Now she said frankly, “I had the understanding that it was improper to be too forward, that here in England as in America men regard loose women with no respect and would never make a serious offer.”
“Yes and no.” Jacqueline shrugged, laughing ruefully. “It is as I told you—one must balance upon the wall that separates eligible ladies from courtesans. It is a skilled woman who can be seductive and demure at the same time.”
“That requires the ability to play a part, as a stage actress would do,” Celia said with some exasperation. “It is all so unnecessary.”
“Ah, but it is a game, my love. Do you not recognize it now? Northington is oh so playful, but beneath his words lie a very real intent—he wishes to learn if you are agreeable to occupying his bed. You say ‘No no’ while you lean close to him and your eyes say ‘Yes yes,’ and he is confused and intrigued by it all. He must learn which you mean, the no on your lips, or the yes in your eyes. The trick is to keep him interested yet hold him at bay until he has made a commitment to you.”
Celia laughed softly. “How do you make it seem so plausible when the entire thing sounds so ludicrous?”
“Because it is true. Men in England are only as bold as they are allowed to be. It is the woman who must set the boundaries.” Jacqueline paused, lifted a deep china cup and sipped sweet, hot chocolate before saying over the rim, “It is not a game for the timid. Ladies are expected to be virgins on their wedding nights, yet seductive enough to lure a man to their bed. A contradiction. Arranged marriages are much safer, and once wed—ah, then can come the affairs of the heart, as long as one is discreet and has already provided the necessary heirs for her husband.”
“A rather jaded view of marriage, I think.”
“Because you are American in nature. I’ve noticed that Americans regard personal freedoms as their right instead of as a luxury. Yet in America, marriages are still arranged for daughters of distinction. After the marriage there can be no affairs of the heart without such dire consequences that I marvel at the restraint of the poor creatures trapped in those situations.”
“What of you? Have you had an ‘affair of the heart’ since your marriage?”
“Yes, but fortunately, it has been with my husband. My circumstances were so different—as were Léonie’s. We had nothing but aristocratic blood as our dowries, so we were able to wed men who sought us for reasons other than to increase their estates. If we had remained in France we would have wed men chosen for us by our parents, men who would have been wealthy, titled and able to add to the family fortunes in some way. So out of the Terror came small compensations for all that we lost. Both Léonie and I married for love. Perhaps it has not been such a terrible thing, though I shall always grieve for those who were taken from me.”
“As do I,” Celia said quietly. Her hands knotted into fists in her lap, and she took a deep breath. Poor Maman. To have survived the terror of the Revolution and then die because of a man like Northington—no, Moreland now, a man who had received an earldom instead of true justice.
And justice must be served. She was the only one capable of visiting it upon him, the only one who still cared that he walked freely in the world. Yet her options were limited, her power to affect the earl insignificant. Before coming to England she had thought the papers she brought would be sufficient to lodge a complaint. Now she realized just how naive she’d been. She had few choices left.
But there is still one way to reach the earl, one way to make him face what he’s done.…
Celia looked up at her cousin.
“After our ride in the park, Lord Northington was quite angry, though he wouldn’t admit it. He may have lost interest. If I should wish to regain that interest…”
Jacqueline smiled. “It requires a delicate balance, my dear. Lord Northington is a rake, a man who prefers mistresses to any kind of emotional entanglement. You must seduce him into making an offer using much more than social graces. He has had his fill of those through the years, even before he came into the title of viscount. Every mama in London pursued him for their daughters at one time, and it has only made them more determined now that he is in line to become earl upon his father’s death.”
“He is the eldest son?”
“No. There was another son, Anthony, who was the heir until he contracted a fever that took the old earl and his eldest son as well. Now Northington is the heir.”
Setting her cup in its saucer on the table, Jacqueline leaned back against the cushions of the sofa to study Celia. Long pale fingers toyed with the fringe on a pillow. “There are certain rules of society that cannot be flaunted, petite, and there are rules that can be bent if not broken, I have observed. One must know which rules are which, however. A single misstep will see a young lady ruined, her reputation shattered and her aspirations doomed. It can be so trivial a violation as dancing too closely, or being seen out without a maid in attendance, or even being seen driving down St. James Street. Those who choose to flaunt the rules soon find, to their dismay, how unforgiving society can be.”
Celia froze, incapable of immediate response, the memory of her mother’s shame and isolation in her final days a sharp reminder of how unforgiving society could be.
“I see,” she finally said, and regarded her cousin quietly. Coal hissed in the grate and rain tickled glass windowpanes outside. It was risky to continue, but how could she live with herself if she allowed Moreland to go unpunished?
Finally she leaned forward to say softly, “If Lord Northington seeks a new mistress instead of a wife, perhaps that is what he shall have.”
Jacqueline looked at her, wide-eyed and horrified. “But no! You must not—”
“Oh, I have no intention of yielding easily what he covets, but if I must give him the impression that he can attain his desires, then I shall gladly do so. Will you help me?”
“Help? But how can I help you do something that may well ruin you! No, I cannot. Do not ask it of me, ma chèrie, for it is too wicked a thing to even consider. Oh, I cannot imagine how you could think I would help you ruin yourself!”
“But you could, ma cousine, advise me how far I am able to go without breaking these rules you list. I wish to tantalize him but not antagonize him, lure him without ruining myself. Is it possible?”
Jacqueline had risen to her feet, distress creasing her face, but now she turned to gaze thoughtfully at Celia. Finally a faint smile curved her mouth, and the lines of distress eased.
“Yes, it is possible, of course. Wicked girl! What do you have in mind to lure this raffiné?”
“There is another ball which we are to attend next week, is there not?”
“Yes, Lady Stratton presents her youngest daughter, a rather plain girl in my opinion, but as she is so well connected, she has high hopes of making a good match. Her uncle is most influential—How does this matter?”