“He cannot possibly be in love with me, Genevieve. We barely know each other.”
“It does not take long to fall in love.” A wistful, faraway look entered Genevieve’s eyes, and Catherine knew her friend was thinking of her former lover. Genevieve appeared to give herself a mental shake, then offered Catherine a sad smile. “Indeed, it can happen distressingly fast. And unfortunately, Cupid’s arrow often strikes our hearts at inconvenient times and makes us fall in love with very inconvenient people. Lord knows I am a perfect example of that.”
“I am not in love with Mr. Stanton. Heavens, I don’t even particularly like him!”
“Actually, I meant Mr. Stanton, my dear. It certainly is inconvenient for him to have feelings for a woman who is dead set against marriage. To say nothing of a woman who is his social superior. And I believe you like him more than you think. Certainly more than you are willing to admit.”
An instant denial rose to Catherine’s lips, but she found she could not utter the words. Instead, she set her teacup aside and rose to pace in front of the floral chintz settee. “I cannot deny I am faced with deciding what to do with this… inconvenient attraction to Mr. Stanton.”
“It isn’t difficult, Catherine, as you only have two options: ignore your feelings, or enjoy them and indulge in an affair.”
Catherine shook her head. “It is not that simple. There are things I must consider before making such an important decision.”
“It is precisely that simple. You want him, he wants you, neither of you are attached, neither are innocents- what else is there to consider?”
“My son, for one thing. What if he were to find out I’d taken a lover?”
“Well, naturally you would be extremely discreet, Catherine. Not only to protect Spencer, but yourself as well.”
“Someone could still find out.”
“Yes, but no one said that taking a lover was free of risk. Oftentimes the risk itself lends an air of excitement to the affair.”
“What about the fact that Andrew lives in London?”
“He may live in Town, but he’s in Little Longstone now.”
“But he will return to London in a week’s time.”
Genevieve raised her brows. “I would think that would be perfect. You do not want a permanent relationship, and he is leaving Little Longstone in one week. What could be more ideal?”
Catherine halted in her pacing in front of the fireplace. “I had not considered it quite that way.”
“Perhaps you should.”
Gripping the edge of the mantel, she tipped her head back to stare at the ceiling. “I never should have reread the Guide last night.” She looked at Genevieve over her shoulder and gave a sheepish laugh. “As I’m sure you can imagine, it put all sorts of ideas in my head.”
“I’m certain it did. But I think it’s far more likely that you were driven to reread the Guide because those ideas were already in your head-put there by Mr. Stanton.”
Catherine nodded slowly. “Yes, you’re right.” She turned to face her friend. “What if I conceived a child?”
“As you know from the Guide, there are various ways to prevent that from happening.” Genevieve stood and walked to stand next to Catherine. Clearly Catherine’s anguish showed because Genevieve did something she rarely did-she reached out her gloved hand and touched Catherine’s shoulder in a show of support and sympathy.
“I can see you are distressed, my dear, and you should not be. There is really only one decision, and I believe that in your heart you know what that is. Allowing yourself sensual pleasure does not make you less of a good mother. As the Guide points out, being selfish upon occasion is not a crime.”
“There is no room for this man in the life I’ve built here.”
“Perhaps not in the long term, but there could be room for the next week.”
Silence stretched between them until finally Catherine said softly, “You would take him as a lover.”
“Yes,”Genevieve replied without hesitation. “I would not deny either of us the pleasure. I would listen to my heart and carpe diem! Seize the day! But based on my writings in the Guide, I’m sure you knew that.” A sad smile touched her lips. “Every woman deserves a grand passion in her life, Catherine. It is one thing to read that such sensual pleasures exist, but to experience them…”She heaved a dreamy-sounding sigh. “The memories of my time with Richard will continue to warm me for the rest of my life.”
Catherine’s heart turned over with sympathy. “You do not have to be alone, Genevieve.”
Her friend held up her hands. “These are not hands a man wants touching him.”
“There is more to you than your hands. You are a beautiful, intelligent, vibrant woman.”
“Thank you. But a grand affair, the taking on of a lover, is based on a strong physical attraction, and that, I’m afraid, is in the past for me. But not for you. Catherine, what is your heart is telling you?”
Catherine closed her eyes. She’d expected to listen to an internal battle between her mind and her heart, but the yearnings of her heart drowned out any other sound-and with only two words.
She opened her eyes. “My heart says carpe diem.”
Chapter 13
While the intimacy afforded by the dark lends itself to sensual encounters, Today’s Modern Woman should not hesitate to try making love without the cover of darkness. Seeing every nuance of your lovers expressions, watching surrender overtake control adds layers of pleasure to the lovemaking experience.
A Ladies’ Guide to the Pursuit of
Personal Happiness and Intimate Fulfillment
by Charles Brightmore
Feeling in need of a brisk ride to settle her runaway thoughts, Catherine decided to stop at the stables on her return walk from Genevieve’s cottage. The double oak doors were thrown open, and she stepped into the cool, shadowy interior. Dust motes danced on ribbons of sunshine streaming through the windows, and she drew in a deep breath, loving the heady scent of fresh hay, horseflesh, and leather. The murmur of masculine voices reached her ears, and her heart quickened. Was Andrew once again in the stables with Fritzborne?
She walked toward the voices, and realized the sound was coming from round the corner-the old, rear section of the stables that had not been refurbished. As she drew closer, the voices became more distinct, and she realized that one of the voices indeed belonged to Andrew. The other belonged to Spencer.
“That’s good,” said Andrew, his words growing more distinct with her every step. “Keep your left hand up. Higher. Protect your face. Now jab with your right.”
“I can’t bloody reach you,” came Spencer’s breathless reply, followed by a grunt. Catherine paused and raised her brows at her son’s language.
“Move your strong leg back a step. That will draw me in closer. Then, once I’m in your range, lunge forward and jab.”
“Ha! I’ll get you now.”
“Ha! I’d like to see you try.”
Catherine tiptoed forward, her slippers silent on the wood floor. When she reached the corner, she peeked around the doorway. And froze.
Andrew and Spencer appeared to be engaged in… fisticuffs? Neither wore their jackets or cravats, and both had rolled back their shirtsleeves to their elbows. Her jaw dropped as Andrew bounced on the balls of his feet, feinting back and forth, while Spencer, fists clenched at chin height, swung at him several times and missed. Then Andrew’s hands flashed out, narrowly missing Spencer’s jaw. Spencer leaned back to avoid the blow, and nearly toppled backward.