Candice Hern Read Free Page A

then. I am willing to do that. Grace, even you could promise as much."
    "I suppose so," Grace said, though a skeptical frown marked her elegant brow as she poured fresh tea for everyone.
    "So long as we keep it to ourselves," Beatrice said, " strictly to ourselves , then you have my promise as well."
    "And mine, of course," the duchess said with a wicked smile. "This should be interesting."
    Penelope beamed at the group. "Wonderful. But I challenge you all to take our pact a step further. I say we should each actively seek out a lover."
    "What?" Beatrice exclaimed.
    Marianne shook her head.
    "You go too far," Grace said.
    "Oh, do not worry, Grace. I am pleased enough to have your promise not to scold the rest of us as we dip our toes in sensual waters. Though it would delight me if you did, I do not expect you to take a lover. Beatrice, what about you? Are you ready to accept the challenge? To make a true effort to find a lover?"
    Beatrice laughed. "It will be a challenge, indeed. Chaperoning my niece, Emily, in her first Season, is a time-consuming enterprise. I swear we must have every evening booked for the next three months. That girl is determined to land a husband before summer. And my two girls are forever underfoot, impatient for their own Seasons. I cannot imagine how I could squeeze an affair into my schedule."
    "But you will keep an open mind?" Penelope prompted. "And an open eye?"
    "I promise to do my best," Beatrice said, and gave a wistful sigh. "All that talk of stallions and hands and such does indeed remind me of my dear Somerfield and what I've missed since he's been gone. It would be nice to ... well, it would be nice."
    "Excellent. And you, Marianne?"
    Oh, Lord. What could she say? Stallions and such certainly did not remind her of David. The marriages of Penelope and Beatrice had obviously been quite different from her own. It was a bit of a revelation to Marianne that perhaps the physical intimacy she'd shared with her husband was not as fulfilling as it might have been. Had she in fact missed something essential, something wonderful?
    She gave herself a silent scold for such a disloyal thought.
    "I am willing to support the rest of you," she said, "if you decide to take lovers. I am not so sure I am ready for that step just yet. It seems ... I don't know. A betrayal of David's memory, I suppose."
    "Did you sleep with other men while he was alive?"
    Marianne uttered a gasp of outrage. "Of course not."
    "Then you have not betrayed him," Penelope said. "Listen to me, Marianne. We all loved our husbands and would never have been unfaithful to them while they lived. But they are gone. We are no longer bound to them. I certainly do not feel I have besmirched the memory of Gosforth by taking a lover three years after his death. And I do not believe David would have wanted you to pine away in cold solitude for the rest of your life."
    "You are too young for that," the duchess said.
    Despite Penelope's logic, Marianne was not entirely sold on the idea. For one thing, she did indeed still feel bound to David. She always would. But she had never intended for her own life to be a shrine to his memory. She missed him, she grieved for him, but she enjoyed being alive. She had a rich and contented life filled with friends and charity work and Society events. But she was willing to admit it might not be as full a life as it could be. She gazed at Penelope's radiant face.
    "I suppose you are right," she said. "I just never thought about it before. It's all so new. You must give me a little time to consider the matter. Besides, I am not at all sure how I would go about it."
    The duchess smiled at her. "You must find the right man."
    "Easier said than done," Beatrice said.
    "Well, it should not be just anyone," the duchess said, her green eyes flashing with amusement. "Pay closer attention to the gentlemen at our balls, for example. When you see an attractive man, look him straight in the eye. If he looks back in a way