Mastering The Marquess (Bound and Determined #1)(109)

“Would have thought that you had questions or concerns that he could not answer? Or rather, perhaps I should say that you would not ask. I am quite sure that he could—and would—answer whatever you cared to know, but I am equally sure he was afraid that you would not wish to speak with him. And perhaps he is a little afraid of facing you. It is clear that he blames himself for all that happened.”

“Blames himself? Yes, of course he might—as he did with his mother. But it is not his fault.” Louisa lifted her face and stared at Madame.

“Is it not?”

“No. It is most certainly not. He cannot be held responsible that the Countess is deranged, and quite clearly she is. Nothing about her is normal.”

“And do you feel the same about your husband? I am quite sure that if you were coming to talk to me it was because you had questions. Do you think your husband is deranged because of his desires?”

Louisa dropped her eyes again. She shifted in the bed, her every muscle crying in protest. It would have been far easier to answer a few days ago. Innocence kept the world simple.

Now she was forced to understand, forced to consider. “No, but I am confused by them. It is so difficult to understand. And if I cannot understand my own feelings, how can I understand Geoffrey’s?”

“Well, you had better figure it out. Your future life will depend upon it.” Madame took her seat again. “Now, what were you going to ask me?”

“Does it matter now?”

“I rather think that it does. What you must realize is that what happened is not typical of anything. I can assure you that your husband derives no pleasure from abducting unwilling women. Indeed, he finally broke with the Countess over something much less offensive.”

“I was going to ask you about whips and hot wax.”

Madame raised a brow.

“The Countess had told me that Geoffrey liked whips and hot wax and that once I understood I should come and talk to her. Even before everything happened I could not imagine speaking to her about anything so intimate, and so I was coming to you.”

“Aah.”

Louisa hesitated. “I had begun to have some understanding of my husband’s wants—he likes control and can be quite domineering—but I could not imagine him with a whip in his hand.”

“And after your experience that has changed?” Madame leaned forward.

“Yes—at least to the extent that I have now seen him holding a crop.”

“And did he seem to be enjoying it?”

“No. Not at all. I could tell he did not wish to strike me.”

“But you still wonder if in other circumstances he might?”

“Yes.” When she kept her answers simple it was much easier.

“Why?”

That was not so simple, and not something she was sure she wanted to talk about. “Because he spanked me with his bare hand and clearly took pleasure in it.” The words jumped from her mouth before she could hold them back.

“And did you enjoy it? Enjoy the feeling of his hand slapping against your skin?”

Madame had cut to the heart of the matter. How could she admit to such a thing? Madame had asked if she worried that Geoffrey was deranged. The truth was that she worried about herself. “Yes, I enjoyed it even though it hurt some. I was quite surprised by the whole thing, but afterwards, as things progressed—yes, I must admit that I found pleasure in it.” There—she had said it. She turned from Madame and stared out the window.

“And before yesterday, would you have done it again?”

“Yes.”

“And what if you had found out that Geoffrey did like whips, what then?”

“That I do not know, did not understand.”

“And now?” Madame asked.

“Now I know how much it hurts. I cannot see that there is any way that I could take pleasure in that. The spanking burned, but it was the pain of a moment, the prick of a rose thorn. The crop mark I feel still, and there is not pleasure in it. So I will ask again: Does my husband like that?”

Madame was silent, considering the question in all its aspects. After a moment she rose and went to stare out the window. “I am not sure how to answer you. As we speak I realize that I am not sure. These things are rarely as simple as they seem. Yes, I have seen Swanston take pleasure in whipping a woman, but he never took pleasure in each blow as some did, and he enjoyed it only with those women who desired to be whipped. I have never known him to go out looking for someone who wanted pain, and he has certainly never forced or even pressured anyone. In my profession I have seen many such men—men who want to cause pain. Your husband was not one of them. He clearly found some satisfaction in it, but I was never quite sure what. You will have to ask him. I know it will not be easy, but if you wish a good marriage you must talk.”

Louisa knew that. She might have avoided it, but she knew it to the bottom of her soul. If she’d only insisted that they talk sooner, much trouble might have been avoided—although perhaps not. She would hold no one but the Countess responsible for what had happened.

Madame turned back to her. “You are, however, completely right about Geoffrey’s desire for absolute control in sexual matters. I do not think that is negotiable for him. If you do not like that, I fear that there are many clouds ahead in your marriage.”