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“I believe I understand you. A man marries because he 140 Eloisa

James

finds a woman attractive.” In her mind, she heard Darby’s voice, husky and low, telling her that she had beautiful hair.

“And therefore he expects this marital intimacy, whether the woman wishes it or not. Well, I think it’s idiotic!”

“What is idiotic?”

“Why couldn’t a couple be pleased with each other and yet avoid that particular event?”

“Men are driven. I can’t explain it better than that.”

Henrietta’s eyes were narrow. “What exactly did Darby say after you informed him that I was unable to—satisfy him in this regard?”

“He looked quite saddened, my dear. I think he has a genuine regard for you. It is a shame.”

“But what did he say?”

“He said that he had forgotten a previous appointment, and asked me to give you his excuses for not meeting you outside the schoolhouse.”

“It was that easy?” Henrietta said, stunned. “He gave up that easily?”

There was no solace in her stepmother’s eyes. “I am truly sorry if I ever gave you the impression that a man might—

might overlook your condition.”

“It’s so stupid of me not to realize that the two things were connected. I thought there would be a man who didn’t want children,” Henrietta whispered. The desolate note in her voice wrung Millicent’s heart.

“Oh don’t, love, don’t cry,” she said, sitting down next to Henrietta on the settee and winding her arms about her.

“I’m not crying.” And she wasn’t, although her face was white and strained.

“Darby is a fool to let you go for such a reason,” Millicent said. “You’re right, men are fools.”

“Not a fool,” Henrietta said bleakly. “A lecher, it seems. Because that is what’s meant by lechery, isn’t it?” She twisted about to meet Millicent’s eyes and found her answer Fool for Love

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there. “A man isn’t content with debauching a mistress; he must have his wife as well.” There was a moment of silence, broken only by the sound of the rising wind.

“Oh, this would all have been so much easier if I had known years ago!” It seemed wrenched from Henrietta’s heart.

Millicent fumbled for a handkerchief, but it was she, rather than Henrietta, who used it.

“I know that Darby must have seemed a reasonable parti,”

the dowager said, a few moments later. “After all, he apparently dislikes the idea of having children, and his sisters are motherless.”

“It’s quite all right,” Henrietta said. She didn’t turn her head toward Millicent. “I shall do very well without a husband. And I hardly know Darby, after all. Miss Pettigrew has pointed out what a detriment a husband is in a woman’s life.”

“And for all we know, Mr. Darby is a criminal. Would you like to speak to Mr. Fetcham about this?”

Henrietta blinked. “Mr. Fetcham? Why on earth would I wish to speak to the vicar about marriage? Unless I were getting married, I mean?”

“Perhaps he could help you reconcile your misfortune.”

“No amount of talk about God’s will is likely to reconcile me to the future I see before me.” Her voice was hard and to the point. “Stupidly, it seems, I had quite hoped to marry at some point.”