Proof by Seduction (Carhart #1)(72)

“Nonsense,” said Jenny. “Let’s start with the basics. What did your aunt tell you?”

Miss Edmonton blushed again. “My aunt said that my husband will come into my room and pull my skirt up. And then he’ll put himself inside of me. She said it hurts. She suggested I hold my tongue and pretend I am somewhere else until he is done.”

Jenny stared at her. “Yes. I should think it would hurt if you did it that way. Good heavens.”

“Whatever do you mean? Are there less painful ways to do it?”

“Suppose you are on the second floor of a house. How would you rather descend? By leaping over a railing? Or by walking down a staircase?”

Miss Edmonton looked at her. “The staircase. Are you trying to say my husband won’t have to put himself inside?”

Jenny blushed. “That part’s necessary. But if he does it slowly, and if he cares about whether you’re ready for it, it won’t hurt after the first time. And maybe not even then.”

Jenny could hear voices and footsteps from the street. Even back here, in the room farthest from the street, a draft filtered through. She’d left her front door ajar, and a good thing, too. Both she and Miss Edmonton could use the breeze.

There was a light sheen of sweat on the other woman’s forehead, one that could not be absorbed by any quantity of delicate rice powder. “But—that thing he puts in me—is it big?”

“If you’re lucky,” Jenny promised.

“And he’ll make me do it every night? Sometimes more than once?”

Jenny tried not to think of Miss Edmonton’s older brother. “If you’re lucky.”

“And he’ll want me to do all sorts of wicked things with my mouth?”

If you’re lucky, he’ll do them back.

Jenny squeezed her eyes shut. “Miss Edmonton,” she said, “these things are all so individual. They will depend on your husband and on your own predilections. Almost anything your husband wants you to do can be enjoyable, if you like and respect him. You just have to let yourself relax. If he’s kind to you, and if you are kind to him, you’ll find that most marital relations are quite enjoyable.”

There was a long pause. Jenny wondered what the other woman could possibly be thinking.

“Is it true,” Miss Edmonton finally said in a whisper, “that if I don’t do as he says, he’ll beat me?”

“No,” said a dark, raspy voice. “Because if he does, you’ll tell me straight away, and I’ll kill him.”

Miss Edmonton gave a little shriek, and Jenny opened her eyes. Gareth stood back, shrouded in the shadows cast by the short hall between her two rooms. When he stepped toward them, Jenny saw a grimace on his face. She wanted to shut her eyes again, to obliterate that fierce expression from her mind. Could she have done anything worse than tell his virgin sister about the sexual act?

He avoided her gaze, and her heart pounded.

“Come, Laura,” Gareth said. “Enough of these questions. I had better take you home.”

If he was going to hate her, Jenny decided, she’d give him real reason to do so. “No, Laura,” she said. Her own voice sounded a little deeper to her own ears, perhaps a bit more mysterious. It was almost as if she were Madame Esmerelda again. But she was not. This time, Jenny Keeble did all the talking.

“Listen to me.” She dropped her voice, and Laura leaned close. “And ignore him for now. Do not ever make the mistake of believing that as a woman, you must submit to men’s rules—that if your husband beats you, your choice is either to submit, or to find a man to intervene on your behalf. Because when the moment comes, and he raises his hand to strike, there will be no man there to save you. Not in that moment, maybe not for days. Men leave. It’s in their nature. If that time ever comes, you will save yourself.”

“Legally, though—”

“A pox on legalities. If you know what you want, you’ll find a way to get it. Men, or no men. And no husband or brother or—” she chanced a look at Gareth, who watched stonily “—lover will ever stop you. And that’s the truth.”

“You told me you couldn’t see the future.”

“I can’t. But I can see the present.” Jenny laid her hand on the other woman’s shoulder. “What you did—coming to me, today, and asking these questions—was deeply courageous. Courage is stronger than physical strength. Remember that. Today, I see a powerful woman.”

Laura blushed, deep red. “I don’t know—”

“Maybe your brother could save you. But if you ever have need, you will save yourself.”

Laura’s hands clenched at her sides.

“Enough,” Gareth said. His teeth gritted together. He didn’t look at Jenny—he didn’t even look at his sister. “More than enough. Come, Laura.”

“Blakely,” Miss Edmonton said, “I only wanted to—”

He inhaled. “You can argue your onlys on the way home.”

He walked from the room without a backward glance.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

THE BEST Gareth could manage for his sister was a hired hack. The seats were sticky—with what, he dared not guess. The interior smelled like mold and vinegar. He spread his handkerchief on the seat, a flimsy barrier between Laura and the rest of the world.