Morven was living in a hotel on Duke Street, not far from where Rhys had once lived as a bachelor. The establishment was high-class, with a flawless reputation. As a temporary accommodation, it would not sully a widow’s reputation to be seen there, although she did wonder why Morven would not stay with friends, if she did not have a townhouse of her own in London.
Morven answered the question when they settled into the private loungeroom, even though Natasha had not asked directly. “My accommodations must seem odd to you, as you have such an extended family and friends. I told you I had lived an isolated life in Scotland for many years. Friendships withered as a result and I have no family to call upon. Neither did my husband. The title died with him.” She smiled softly. “I considered purchasing a townhouse, only I am so rarely in London that the expense does not justify itself.” She rested her hand against the teapot, checking the heat.
“Then you are returning to Scotland soon?” Natasha asked politely.
“I never intended to stay for the Season,” Morven confessed. “Such frivolities are not for me.”
“Your charity work is your only interest?”
“For a very long time, I did not have even that,” Morven said, pouring two cups of tea. She handed one to Natasha. “It can be unbearable when one’s husband dies. It took a great deal of time for my interest in life to return. Your awakening was much faster than mine.” She smiled.
Natasha’s innards jumped. “I have no idea what you mean,” she said stiffly.
Morven sipped. “I do not believe anyone else noticed how closely you watched Lord Marblethorpe at Henley. I deflected your interest quickly enough the gossips may not have had time to turn away from the delectable sight of men in wet clothing.” She smiled and her smile was full of mischief. “I rather think the experience of lusting after a man is new to you, since your husband passed. Yes?”
Natasha stared at her. She could think of nothing to say. Shock and horror curled through her. She realized she was holding her teacup in midair and put it back on the saucer with an unsteady hand. “I…er…”
“Will you be pursuing your interest, Lady Innesford? I ask not from a prurient view point, but because I would be happy to help, if that is your intent.”
Natasha’s horror grew. “No!” she said, her voice strangled and weak. “I could not possibly… Pursue?” she repeated, the implications behind the word impacted all over again. “You make it sound as if…as if…” She shook her head.
Morven put her cup down. She was smiling. “Oh dear,” she said, sounding not at all distressed. “You are rather innocent, despite marriage and…how many children have you?”
“Seven,” Natasha said automatically, staring at the woman. Her mind was exploding with all sorts of strange ideas and realizations. “Have you…extended your help to other…women?”
“Ladies, all of them,” Morven said gently. “Not many, no. There are few who are honest enough about their thoughts and feelings to encompass more sophisticated forms of pleasure.”
“Is that what they are?” Natasha said distantly. She felt as though she had been tipped into Alice’s rabbit hole.
“Certainly,” Morven said firmly. “Pleasures of the flesh, although the Queen would have women think lifting their eyes above the drudgery of child birth and home-keeping a mortal sin.”
Natasha looked at her with growing horror. “Is this the secret of your charm? Is this how you manage to raise so much money? By arranging….”
Morven actually laughed. “Good lord, no,” she said, when she had herself under control. “Charm and education are my weapons when it comes to that. These pleasures I speak of are a very private aspect. I know you understand that sort of discretion. Your Great Family…well, it is really the three families that cling together so tightly, isn’t it? Others say it is nearly impossible to be included in the inner circle of your family and friends. The strength of the bonds that bind you together are widely envied, only I suspect those bonds include an iron boundary of discretion, too. You protect each other.”
Natasha deliberately drew in a slow, controlled breath, deep into her lungs, as far as her corset would let her. Then she let it out and felt a little control return to her. “You have a rather exalted view of my friends,” she said gently. “We have known each other for a very long time, that is all. There is no iron boundary, as you say.”
Morven nodded. “Of course, you would say that. I am aware, though, of the scandals that have dogged all of you in the past. That would bring you together, wouldn’t it? It would make you want to work together to shield yourselves from further notoriety.”
Natasha give her a stiff smile and sipped her tea to give herself time to think. “I don’t know you nearly well enough to begin to respond,” she said.
“That is a very sensible attitude,” Morven said approvingly. “You really do not know me at all and therefore have no reason to trust me. I would feel exactly the same way if I were you. I did want to extend my offer of help, despite the risk of shocking you. You are a widow, too. I know what your life must be like.” She sipped her tea while Natasha scrambled to find a way to respond.
Morven spoke again before Natasha could. “Of course, Lord Marblethorpe is part of the family, isn’t he? Lady Farleigh’s oldest son…he would be well inside the iron boundary that you say does not exist.” She spoke softly, as if she was thinking to herself.
Natasha felt the heat swoop up from her belly, flushing her face and neck and making the hair on the back of her neck prickle. She was helpless to stop it and aware that it was an unmistakable signal that Morven would not fail to see.
Morven’s generous mouth curved up into a smile and her blue eyes twinkled. “I thought so,” she said complacently. She patted the back of Natasha’s hand where it rested on the table. “I would wish you luck, only I saw the look on his Lordship’s face, too. I don’t believe you will need to do more than hold your breath and let him trip you.” She straightened up and picked up the teapot. “Are you attending Lady Shelburne’s Sweet Pea Ball next week?”
The invitation to the ball was still sitting on the desk in the library. “I haven’t attended the ball for years,” Natasha said bluntly, still too uncomfortable to bother with pretty phrases and prevarications.
“Since your husband passed?” Morven guessed. “Perhaps you should consider attending this year. Dancing is one of the best ways to drive a man to desperation…but then, I’m sure you knew that already.” Her gaze met Natasha’s.
“I determined that for myself when I was seventeen,” Natasha replied. She felt her mouth open and her eyes widen.
Morven gave another merry laugh. “I almost feel sorry for Marblethorpe!”
* * * * *
Natasha stepped out of the carriage almost before it had stopped, yanked her hoops back into place impatiently and hurried up the three short steps and used the door knock with energy.
The door was opened almost immediately—by Raymond.
“I saw you through my window,” he said and glanced over her shoulder and up and down the street.
Natasha stepped back, doubt tearing at her suddenly. “Is this wrong? Should I not have come here?”
Raymond made an impatient sound. “You should do exactly what you want to do. I look, only to see who might observe I’m not wearing my jacket. If you don’t mind that, come in. Otherwise, I must shut the door and dress properly, then open it again.”
“I’ve seen you in less,” Natasha said.
Raymond laughed and stood aside. “You’d better come in then.”
She slipped inside and Raymond shut the door. “I have this, thank you, Thomsett,” he told his butler, who was only just hurrying through from the back rooms.
Thomsett halted and nodded. “Tea, sir?”
“I won’t stay long,” Natasha said, already feeling uncomfortable about the impulse that had driven her here.
“No, thank you, Thomsett,” Raymond told him. He waved toward a front room. T
he morning room, Natasha guessed. She had never been here before, although everyone knew where the Devlin family townhouse was located. She went through and was pleasantly surprised by the airiness of the room, the pretty roses and the arrangement of the furniture. She didn’t sit down, though. Her discomfort was increasing.
Raymond pushed his hands into his trouser pockets. “You are almost vibrating. What has happened to bring you pounding on my door?”
Natasha tore off her gloves. Her hands were sweaty. “I have just come from Duke Street. I had tea with a woman who said things…” She took a breath. “Perhaps I should leave. It was silly to think that I…” She bit her lip.
“That you…?” Raymond asked.
“It’s just that I could speak to Seth about anything!” she said in a rush. “I could ask questions and not feel like a fool.”
“Ask me, if that is what you want,” Raymond said.
Natasha calmed herself. She smoothed her hands down her gabardine skirt. “Is it true that there is a…a layer of people who…do what they please, when they please, with whomever they please? That they help each other do it?”
“Ah…” Raymond lifted a brow. “Who was it who opened your eyes, then?”
“Morven, Lady Tachbrook.”
“I don’t know the lady or the name,” Raymond confessed.
“A Scots baronet. She was standing next to me at Henley.”
Raymond’s smile was warm. “I failed to notice anyone but you at Henley.”
Her heart gave a little trip hammer and hurried on. “Is it true, then? There are people out there who freely…”
“Freely indulge in sexual partners? Oh yes,” he said softly. “There have been people like that throughout history. However, they are usually more discreet than to blurt it out over tea and crumpets.”
“She told me because…” Natasha halted, aware of what she would have to say to finish the sentence, and who she was saying it to.
Raymond raised his brows. “Something about me, perhaps?” he guessed.
“Yes!” Natasha said, relief touching her. “She wanted to help me. She said she would help me…trip you.”
Raymond laughed. It was a deep belly laugh, filled with humor.
Natasha could feel her own lips twitch. “I suppose, if I really had wanted to trip you, I just showed you my hand, didn’t I?”
“Indeed,” he replied, sobering. “Although you would have no need of card tricks to achieve that, if you wanted it. You have but to ask.”
Natasha’s breath whooshed out of her. She scrambled to remember what she had wanted to say.
Raymond smiled. “I like disconcerting you.”
“I’m afraid mention of…of…sex,” she added firmly, “will always disconcert me.”
“You said you could say anything to Seth,” he reminded her. “Just not sex?”
“I didn’t have to speak of sex, when I merely had to reach out…” She drew in a breath. “You are distracting me,” she said firmly, gathering her thoughts together. “Raymond, are there really people who have sex simply for the sake of having sex?”
“Yes.”
“Morven made it sound affectionless and calculated. I cannot imagine how it could be pleasurable if the affection is not there.”
“Sex without love, is what you mean. Sex without love is a poor substitute. It is better than nothing, though,” Raymond said softly.
“Than not having sex at all? How could it be?”
“The act itself generates a weak substitute for love. It engenders intimacy.” He shrugged. “There is a reason prostitutes exist, beyond merely giving men a vent for natural urges.”
Natasha stared at him. “Did you…I mean have you…?”
Raymond’s gaze was steady. “Have you ever indulged yourself, Natasha?”
“With another person? Never,” she said firmly.
“I mean, by yourself. Because it was pleasurable.”
Natasha couldn’t look at him. Her face was burning again. She couldn’t even form an answer. She wouldn’t answer.
“Those who find pleasure with other people are doing as you do by yourself, only with the other person there, it creates a small amount of intimacy and companionship that is usually missing in their lives.”
Natasha cleared her throat. She still couldn’t look at him.
“And yes, there are some people who do it simply because they like the act itself and cannot have enough of it—sometimes more than a single partner can provide.”
Natasha glanced down at her hands, where she was smoothing her skirt in constant motion. She made her hands stop. “I feel as ignorant as I did when I was seventeen and discovered I had a half-brother who everyone had lied to me about for my entire life.”
Raymond lifted her chin, making her look at him. His fingers were firm. “You are unaware of such things because you have always been loved and sheltered, that is all. The people this Morven talks about are often troubled, their hearts broken by transitory affairs, diseases, pregnancies and more. It seems bohemian to recklessly embrace free love, yet it comes with a price. Such matters are hidden away from gentle souls like you, because they are unpleasant.”
“Only, they are true, aren’t they?” she replied. “It is like when Annalies first told Elisa and I about the homeless, wretched children living in squalor right here in London. We didn’t believe her until she showed us. Only then could we do something to help them. If we had remained ignorant about that unpleasantness, then Elisa and Anna would never have adopted their children and I would not have thought to help establish the Orphans Society. Shielding people from harsh truths doesn’t work, Raymond.”
“Shielding you may not work,” he replied, his tone one of agreement. “There are many people who are perfectly happy to move through life in complete ignorance of harsh realities.”
“My mother was one of them,” Natasha admitted. She met his gaze. It was far easier now to do that. “Please do not shield me anymore, Raymond. I would prefer to know whatever it is I do not know.”
“Such as how badly I want to kiss you right now?” he asked.
Her body seemed to tingle. Her breath stopped. Then she shook her head. “You did it again.”
“Disconcerted you. Yes.” His smile was warm.
“Do you? Want to kiss me, I mean?”
“You asked for the truth, remember?”
Her breasts seemed to swell inside her corset. She grew aware of the tips, brushing gently against the cotton of her camisole. Her heart raced.
Yet Raymond made no move toward her. He stayed utterly still, except for his hand in his pockets. They were curled into hard fists, she realized.
“I should go,” she said slowly, staring at the tight balls of his fists, lifting the fabric of his trousers. “It would not be nice to linger here and dangle something I am not prepared to give. Besides, I promised Anna and Elisa I would stop by after tea with that woman.”
“To report on her?” Raymond asked.
“They thought she was such a nice woman,” Natasha admitted. “All the way here from Duke Street I was thinking just the opposite. Now, I just feel sorry for her. Her life is truly empty of friends and family and she uses sex to fill the void.”
“How very astute of you,” Raymond said softly. “Will you tell Anna and my mother that?”
Natasha smiled. “If I can find a way to tell them that doesn’t mention you, I will. Neither of them prefer ignorance, either.”
* * * * *
The three of them sat in Elisa’s boudoir, on the edges of their chairs so they could lean closer and keep their voices down as they discussed every aspect of Natasha’s visit with Morven Fortescue. Natasha had let them think Morven was the one who lusted after one of the other rowers, which left Raymond out of the discussion entirely.
“I still cannot believe she would ask you to help her seduce the man, though,” Elisa said. It was not the first time she had said it. “It is rather cheeky.”
“I imagine
she thought Natasha would be practiced at it,” Anna said. “Men make fools of themselves around her all the time.”
“I am practiced at not letting them trap me in corners,” Natasha said shortly. “Encouraging them is an entirely different matter.”
“Does any man have to be encouraged?” Elisa asked. “It seems to me they tend to make up their own minds.”
“If they believe the woman is available, then yes,” Anna said. “Otherwise, wouldn’t it simply be a matter of letting them know one is secretly available?”
Natasha gave a little shudder. “It is all so very clandestine and underhanded. Marriage is much easier.”
“If one loves their husband, then yes,” Anna said. “We three are very lucky in that regard.”
Elisa shook her head. “We risked scandal and complete ruin, all of us, to marry the man we loved. It’s not the same thing at all. Anna, imagine if you had been married off to a suitable Duke or Prince. Do you imagine you would feel the same way about marriage and the bedroom, then?”
Anna took off her spectacles and rubbed the bridge of her nose. “I would think not,” she said quietly. “I remember as a child and a new woman thinking that marriage would be an escape from the torments at home, only now I have Rhys,” and she smiled, her eyes suddenly glowing, “I can see how such a marriage would be just another torment.”
“My mother forced an engagement with a man called Sholto Piggott upon me,” Natasha said and shuddered.
“I was going to marry Vaughn’s father,” Elisa added. “I cannot even imagine what the marriage bed would have been like, had I not met Vaughn.”
Silence fell between them as they contemplated what might have been.
Then Elisa stirred. “Besides, I didn’t ask you here to talk about that poor woman.” She glanced over her shoulder once more, even though the door to the suite had been firmly shut for a good hour. Then she leaned forward again. “I spoke to Raymond about Susanna.”
Natasha caught her breath. So did Annalies, yet there was a gleam of interest in her eyes that Natasha did not share.
Soul of Sin (Scandalous Scions Book 2) Page 6
