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Henrietta looked at him with a little frown, but he didn’t say anything further.

“I agree,” Rees said. “And then tell the girl to stop throwing up a fuss because she’ll never catch a husband at that rate. Nothing a man hates worse than a squalling wife.”

“Oh my, yes. I must tell her that. Husbands are such an enviable possession, after all. Just look at you, my lord.”

Rees gave his bark of laughter and pushed back from the table, standing up. He surprised her with a swooping bow. For a moment he looked almost handsome, his forbidding face relaxed into a grin. “Lady Henrietta, it has been indeed a pleasure. Darby, I take back everything I said in the carriage.”

The moment he left the room, Henrietta turned to Darby. 272 Eloisa

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“I knew he was telling you dreadful things in that carriage!”

Her husband drew her to her feet before answering. “I didn’t listen,” he said, looking down into her eyes. Henrietta was suddenly aware that she was alone with him. That they didn’t need a chaperone. That they were married.

“I was thinking of other things.”

< 36 =

A Wedding Night

Wedding nights are many things to many people: terrifying to the unwilling, too quickly finished to the eager. Henrietta had read enough poetry, especially all those poems anticipating the night, to understand that some women were eager. Look at Juliet, going on and on about Romeo lying on her, like snow on a raven’s back. Of course, Juliet said that before Romeo climbed up to her room—

which was the important distinction, to Henrietta’s mind. Juliet didn’t know what the marital act entailed, whereas she, Henrietta, did.

The problem was that she, Henrietta, knew far too much about the whole procedure to look forward to it. In fact, were there a rope ladder dangling from her window, she’d be down it herself in an instant. Never mind the fact that rope ladders were undoubtedly difficult to negotiate. She looked longingly out the window, but there was nothing to be seen but a brick wall with snow blowing over it.

“Just lie still,” Millicent had told her that very morning.

“It’s over faster if you simply lie still. Think about something useful. I often cataloged the linen in my head. That way, one 274 Eloisa

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doesn’t feel as irritated by the event.” Then she added practical, if rather nauseating details about how to deal with leakage—

none of which Henrietta really understood. It sounded as if the procedure were almost as messy as one’s monthly, which happened to be Henrietta’s least favorite time of month. In fact, had she any idea that marital intimacies required one to pad oneself with rags the next day, she would never have agreed to the marriage.

But then, Anabel had called her mama when she said good night. And Josie had only one small bout of tears before bed, and it was inspired by Anabel spewing on her nightgown. Henrietta considered throw-up a justifiable reason for temper. Now both children were fast asleep, with a likable girl named Jenny watching over them. Even better, Jenny had agreed to accompany them to London.

All of which left a newly married Henrietta Darby in the largest bedchamber the Bear and Owl could offer. By herself. Henrietta couldn’t decide whether to disrobe or not. She had no maid until they reached London and could engage one, and so she was wearing a simple traveling dress that she could easily unfasten by herself. In the end she bathed (to remove the reminders of Anabel’s supper) and pulled on her night rail with a dressing gown over it.

She was sitting by the window gloomily thinking about Rapunzel’s ability to turn her hair into a ladder, when the door opened and Darby appeared.

“Good evening!” he said. He was holding a bottle of wine and two glasses. Henrietta looked at him rather bitterly. It was due to his inconvenient lust that she was sitting here awaiting such an unpleasant event.

The fact that he was so elegant made the whole procedure seem more embarrassing than ever. It had been a long day, but he was impeccably attired. His hair was tousled in a manner that looked coiffured, and his fingers were long and ele-Fool for Love 275

gant as they wrestled the cork out of the bottle. Why did she have to endure leakages and pain and blood when he would doubtless remain as exquisite and polished as he always was?

Darby handed her a glass and she took a sip. Despite herself, she was rather curious to see her husband without clothes. An improper thought, no doubt.

“I’ve been downstairs, and the innkeeper confirms that we’re snowed in,” he said, with what seemed to her unnecessary emphasis. She drank some more wine.

“How’s your hip feeling?” he asked, sitting down across from her.

She felt the beginnings of a blush. Was this married life? A husband mentioning body parts to you with no shame?

“Precisely as customary,” she said, inviting no further commentary.