Candice Hern Read Free

regrets, if that is what you are suggesting. I am only encouraging you to find a lover because I know it will make you happy. It will rejuvenate you, invigorate you, make you feel like a girl again. Don't you want to feel desirable? Don't you want a man to make you feel beautiful again? Yes, of course, all of you are very beautiful women, but what good does it do you to hear it from me? How much more satisfying to hear it whispered in your ear while a man's hands caress every beautiful part of you?"
    "Penelope!" Marianne said, more intrigued than outraged. "You are incorrigible."
    "Am I? Or am I just speaking out loud the thoughts every one of you has entertained at one time or another? Ladies, we are all friends, and as friends, we should be able to speak frankly with each other, even about such private matters. To be honest, I have been burning with the need to talk with someone about my affair. I cannot keep such excitement bottled up inside me. So here I am, confessing my little transgression without the least remorse, and with every hope that I can repeat it again soon. And hoping the same for all of you." She clapped her hands together with glee. "We must find lovers for each of us. Even Grace. Especially Grace."
    "I could never do that," Grace said, busying herself with a mote spoon as she cleaned the teapot spout. "Never."
    "Don't be so sure," the duchess said. "If the right man came along ..."
    Grace shuddered visibly. "Never." She kept her eyes down, not looking at any of them, as she refilled the pot with hot water from the silver urn at her side.
    "Poor Grace," Penelope said. "That shudder of yours speaks volumes. The old bishop wasn't so randy after all, was he? A bit of skillful lovemaking from a handsome young man would do you a world of good. But I see you are not yet ready to loosen those tight stays of yours, even for a moment, so I will not press you. What of the rest of you? Marianne? Beatrice?"
    "What, exactly, are you asking of us, Penelope?" Beatrice asked. "That we each make a promise to seek out a lover?"
    "Yes!" Penelope bounced with enthusiasm and clapped her hands together. "A pact! A real pact this time. A secret pact, just among the five of us."
    A secret pact? To take a lover? The notion both disturbed and excited Marianne. Could she ever agree to such a thing? Did she want to?
    "Not me," Grace said. "Do not expect me to become party to some sort of improper agreement."
    "Yes, my girl," Penelope said, wagging a finger, "even you. Our pact shall be that we give ourselves permission to break out of those self-imposed restrictions of respectable widowhood and truly live as independent women, in control of every aspect of our lives. And that means if an attractive man catches our eye, we are free to act on that attraction. We will, of course, be discreet. In public. But among ourselves, we should feel free to be as indiscreet as we want. In fact, I believe each of you shall be required to share every delicious experience, as I have done. No detail will be considered too intimate."
    They looked at one another, all save Wilhelmina apparently as stunned, and fascinated, as Marianne at what was being suggested. Could they really do it? Could they be that candid about things most people never discussed at all? Assuming they actually found lovers. Marianne felt a rush of anxiety, as though she was about to be initiated into a secret society she had no desire to join.
    "We once made another sort of pact," Penelope continued, "to lend our support to one another if our families attempted to pressure us into an unwanted marriage. Let us simply extend that pact with a promise not to judge or censure and scold one another about our lovers, but to offer good, solid female understanding and encouragement. Among friends. What do you say?"
    Marianne's uneasiness lifted. She could do this. No one was making her promise to find a lover, which she could not imagine doing. "You are only asking us to be open-minded,