Page 44 of The Lady’s Guide to Deception and Desire
Meanwhile, Jenny laid breakfast upon a side table and escorted Pom Pom downstairs for a trip into the garden.
“Good morning, my darling.” Her mother kissed her cheek. “Though it’s such an hour, I can almost say good afternoon!”
“Ma, you’re feeling better?” Rosamund sat up. “You’re dressed!”
“I do, and I am.” Pouring from the teapot, Mrs. Burnell passed her daughter a cup. “I’ve been so anxious, as you know, and I’ve a confession to make.”
She cast her eyes to her lap. “I wasn’t entirely truthful about the medicine, and I know you didn’t like me taking it, which made me not want to tell you before. I’ve been having more of the drops than I ought and”—Mrs. Burnell looked acutely embarrassed—“I was filling up the bottle with water, so you wouldn’t know.”
For a moment, Rosamund was speechless.
“It was dreadful of me—but I promise not to take them anymore. They were making me feel most peculiar. Soothed, in a way, but then I’d feel more jittery than ever later on.” Reaching into her pocket, Mrs. Burnell pulled out the bottle and placed it upon Rosamund’s own bedside.
“Well, that’s marvellous, Ma.” A lump came to Rosamund’s throat.
While worrying about her mother’s state of mind, she’d taken to imagining all sorts of ridiculous things, becoming slightly neurotic herself.
What had possessed her the night before! Had she really thought the duke might have kidnapped Bessie and be keeping her in the crypt? Rosamund felt quite ashamed.
And she’d all but dragged poor Mr. Studborne on her midnight adventure. Goodness knew what he thought of her. He certainly hadn’t stuck around long when they’d emerged to find themselves in her bedroom!
Rosamund heaved an inward sigh.
He’d been a perfect gentleman, of course—and was only doing his best to preserve what remained of her dignity.
She watched as her mother lavished butter upon a crumpet.
“You were right…that I’d put myself under too much strain.” Mrs. Burnell passed the plate to Rosamund with a wide smile. “But, now His Grace has asked for your hand, everything’s going to come right. He came to visit me this morning, telling me your wonderful news—and asking my permission, of course. A duchess, my darling! Just as we dreamed!”
Rosamund bolted upright.
She recalled a strange sort of conversation with the duke the night before. She couldn’t remember what she’d said, or the exact words he’d used to propose marriage. But she supposed it was true. He had mentioned the ceremony and she hadn’t refused him.
In fact, one of the first things she’d done was to persuade Mr. Studborne to look round the chapel with her, on the pretext of planning where the candles and flowers ought to be positioned.
Dropping her chin, Mrs. Burnell gave her daughter a teasing look. “Lord Studborne told me he's eager not to wait long. You and I should probably have a chat before the wedding takes place. The marital act is rather disturbing, though one gets used to it. There are certain things you can do to help the coming along of a baby. There’s sure to be something in that little book I gave you. Perhaps read that first, and make a note of any questions you have.”
She smoothed down her skirts. “The duke tells me there’s an orangery and it’s a delightful place to sit, so I’ll head there. Your little dog can keep me company until you join me.”
Rosamund sat in bed for a good while, endeavouring to take everything in. It was such a relief to see her mother returned to good spirits, but the duke’s proposal remained a shock. After all, what did he know of her?
As to the side of matrimony to which her mother alluded, Rosamund had only the haziest of ideas. She tookTheLady’s Guidefrom her nightstand and perused the list of contents, finding a chapter on 'Bedroom Matters’.
The subject of conjugation between the sexes might easily consume a whole book by itself. It is enough to say that where affection exists, and a man is patient, physical coupling may become a source of pleasure to both parties.
Where deeper feelings are present, the act is a transporting experience, bonding man and wife so that none shall come between them.
For those who lack such feelings towards their husband, bedroom sports are more to be endured than enjoyed. However, allow him as many freedoms as you can bear, even where his practises may be against your own inclinations.
Only ensure that he does not injure you and, in time, you may take pleasure in what first seemed abhorrent.
On occasion, a headache or other ailment may be professed, to avoid the matrimonial act, but wives should beware employing this tactic with regularity.
Better that your husband finds his release in your arms than in another’s.
It was annoyingly vague.
How could something be both a source of pleasure and potentially abhorrent? And what were these practises that a woman might find unpleasant? Madame Florian had hinted at something similar, saying the duke had "certain tastes".
