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“Really?”

“Various methods. Would you mind if I shock you further?”

At that, Henrietta smiled, if a bit shakily. “I haven’t found you too shocking so far. I have seen women cry before you moved to Limpley Stoke, you know.”

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“Wretch! Well, the truth is that Sebastian Bonnington was not the first man in my bed—other than my husband, that is.”

“Oh.”

Esme felt a crawling embarrassment, but she barged ahead. “When Miles first left our house, I was enraged. I wanted his attention and tried to get that attention any way I could. I flirted with every gentleman in the ton who showed the inclination. I didn’t bed them. But I gave every indication that I was doing so. Do you understand, Henrietta?”

“I think so. You were trying to make your husband angry. Did it succeed?”

“No,” Esme said a little sadly. “No, it didn’t. You see, we really weren’t suited as a couple. My father insisted that I marry Miles, and Miles knew that I had been forced to do so. He was the most good-natured person in the world. My behavior only made him feel more guilty, and less as if he had a right to reprimand me for my wanton behavior. He was utterly pleasant, whenever we met.”

“I expect that made you even angrier.”

“Yes . . . I was very young and very foolish. Eventually I found myself in the bed of an older gentleman who was more experienced in such matters than I was. He provided himself with a means of preventing contraception.”

Henrietta’s eyes widened.

“By a year or so later, I tired of affairs. But during that period I used something called a sheath. It’s very simple. Frankly, I think the advice you’ve received about not marrying is all foolishness. Given the existence of this and other methods that prevent pregnancy, your circumstances are no bar to marriage. I’m surprised that Darby didn’t point that out to your aunt.”

The hope that had flared in Henrietta’s breast died again.

“Darby must not have really wished to marry me. Surely he knows about these methods.”

“Naturally he does. The fact is, the male brain is arranged Fool for Love

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in a quite nonsensical fashion. I expect he thinks that a gentlewoman would never touch such an object. Or that a lady’s sensibilities are too delicate even to hear of it. But I never had any hesitation to use the sheath, and I firmly suspect that other gentlewomen do the same. After all, how many women do you know who have produced no more than an heir and a spare? Clearly the method works. It certainly did for me.”

“Then why did no one tell me about it before?”

Esme had a rueful look on her face. “Perhaps it takes a fallen woman to share such secrets. None of the ladies of the sewing circle would want to introduce the subject, Henrietta. It simply isn’t a topic for polite conversation.” She hesitated.

“There is also an idea that women don’t enjoy making love anyway, or shouldn’t enjoy it.”

“I know it is an uncomfortable procedure.”

Esme suddenly laughed, a throaty little laugh that had made men crumple to their knees from London to Limpley Stoke. “I will leave it to my elegant nephew to change your mind about that, Henrietta. Believe me, there is discomfort and then there is pure pleasure. But, if ladies have been told that the act is supposed to be unpleasant, I expect it is difficult for them to admit that they engage in the act for reasons other than impregnation.”

“That seems logical.”

Esme laughed again. “I can’t fathom that we are having this conversation! My close friends are married, but until recently none of them has been living with a husband, so we had no opportunity for such frankness.”

“None of your friends live with a husband?”

“I wasn’t living with Miles, obviously. And my friend Gina’s husband actually left the country twelve years ago, when they first married. So not only was she not living with a husband, her marriage was never consummated.” She paused and grinned. “Of course, that situation has changed. Gina and Cam returned from Greece together just before Christmas.”

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