The Duke and I (Bridgertons, #1)(69)

"Don't try to change the subject," Daphne warned. "I've been waiting for this all week."

Some of the steam went out of her mother. "You have?"

Daphne's look was pure what-did-you-expect. "Well, of course."





Violet sighed and mumbled, "Where was I?"

"You were telling me that some women find their marital duty unpleasant."

"Right. Well. Hmmm."

Daphne looked down at her mother's hands and noticed that she'd practically shredded a

handkerchief.

"All I really want you to know," Violet said, the words tumbling out as if she could not wait to be rid of them, "is that it needn't be unpleasant at all. If two people care for one another—and I believe that the duke cares for you very much—"

"And I for him," Daphne interrupted softly.

"Of course. Right. Well, you see, given that you do care for each other, it will probably be a very lovely and special moment." Violet started scooting to the foot of the bed, the pale yellow silk of her skirts spreading along the quilts as she moved. "And you shouldn't be nervous. I'm sure the duke will be very gentle."

Daphne thought of Simon's scorching kiss. "Gentle" didn't seem to apply."But—"

Violet stood up like a shot. "Very well. Have a good night. That's what I came here to say."

"That's all?"

Violet dashed for the door. "Er, yes." Her eyes shifted guiltily."Were you expecting something else?"

"Yes!" Daphne ran after her mother and threw herself against the door so she couldn't escape.

"You can't leave telling me only that!"

Violet glanced longingly at the window. Daphne gave thanks that her room was on the second floor; otherwise, she wouldn't have put it past her mother to try to make a getaway that way.

"Daphne," Violet said, her voice sounding rather strangled.

"But what do I do? "

"Your husband will know," Violet said primly.

"I don't want to make a fool of myself, Mother."

Violet groaned. "You won't. Trust me. Men are..."

Daphne seized upon the half-finished thought. "Men are what? What, Mother? What were you



going to say?"

By now Violet's entire face had turned bright red, and her neck and ears had progressed well into the pinks. "Men are easily pleased," she mumbled. "He won't be disappointed."

"But—"

"But enough!" Violet finally said firmly. "I have told you everything my mother told me. Don't be a nervous ninny, and do it enough so you'll have a baby."

Daphne's jaw dropped. "What? "

Violet chuckled nervously. "Did I forget to mention the bit about the baby?"

"Mother!"

"Very well. Your marital duty—the, er, consummation, that is—is how you have a baby."

Daphne sank against the wall. "So you did this eight times?" she whispered.

"No!"

Daphne blinked in confusion. Her mother's explanations had been impossibly vague, and she still didn't know what marital duty was, precisely, but something wasn't adding up. "But wouldn't you have had to do it eight times?"

Violet began to fan herself furiously. "Yes. No! Daphne, this is very personal."

"But how could you have had eight children if you—"

"I did it more than eight times," Violet ground out, looking as if she wanted to melt right into the walls.

Daphne stared at her mother in disbelief."You did?"

"Sometimes," Violet said, barely even moving her lips, and certainly not moving her eyes off a single spot on the floor, "people just do it because they like to."

Daphne's eyes grew very wide. "They do?" she breathed.

"Er, yes."

"Like when men and women kiss?"

"Yes, exactly," Violet said, sighing with relief. "Very much like—" Her eyes narrowed.

"Daphne," she said, her voice suddenly shrill, "have you kissed the duke?"



Daphne felt her skin turning a shade that rivaled her mother's. "I might have done," she mumbled.

Violet shook her finger at her daughter. "Daphne Bridgerton, I cannot believe you would do such a thing. You know very well I warned you about allowing men such liberties!"

"It hardly signifies now that we're to be married!"

"But still—" Violet gave a deflating sigh. "Never mind. You're right. It doesn't signify. You're to be married, and to a duke no less, and if he kissed you, well, then, that was to be expected."

Daphne just stared at her mother in disbelief. Violet's nervous, halting chatter was very much out of character.

"Now then," Violet announced, "as long as you don't have any more questions, I'll just leave you to your, er,"—she glanced distractedly at the mementos Daphne had been shuffling through—

"whatever it is that you're doing."

"But I do have more questions!"

Violet, however, had already made her escape.