"And the other on page sixty-one?" added Julianne. "Surely a woman wouldn't do that… would she?"
Again Carolyn knew precisely to what her friends referred without looking at the book. Her face flamed hotter and she found herself shifting in her seat from the same disconcerting sensations that had plagued her during her entire reading of the Memoirs.
Readings, her inner voice interjected, emphasizing the plural.
She shot her pesky inner voice an inward frown. Very well, readings. Many, many readings. Alone in her bed, her mind overflowing with carnal images that left her overheated.
Although she again had no personal knowledge of the shocking goings-on described on pages fifty-three and sixty-one, she had no reason to doubt the word of the Anonymous Lady who clearly knew her way around a boudoir. And a library. And the stables. And even the dining room.
For starters.
Carolyn shoved the sensual images aside and stated, "According to the rumors, everything in the book is completely true."
Sarah cleared her throat. "Yes. Men do do those things. Um, women, too."
Carolyn blinked. Surely Sarah hadn't done that. Yet another quick look at her sister made it quite clear she had. And that she was deliriously happy about it. An odd mixture of delight and envy suffused her. Delight-that Sarah, who for so long had been overlooked because she wasn't classically beautiful and her interests tended toward scholarly pursuits, had found a deep and abiding love with Matthew Devenport, the Marquess of Langston. And envy-because Carolyn so profoundly missed the deeply satisfying relationship she'd shared with Edward, one she knew in her heart and soul could never be duplicated. She'd been fortunate to find her one true love. And sadly, had lost him to a sudden and unexpected illness.
After three long years of widowhood she'd finally accepted the fact that the ache of missing her beloved husband would never completely go away. So she kept him in a special corner of her heart where his memory burned brightly and always would. She might have remained forever in her state of mourning, isolated from everyone except her family and few closest friends, but several months ago Sarah had taken her firmly in hand and all but dragged her out, encouraging her to discard her solitude and black gowns and join the living again.
At first Carolyn resisted, but she'd slowly come to once again enjoy being out in Society, attending soirees, socializing with old friends, forging new acquaintances. She behaved a proper lady at all times, determined to never do anything that could besmirch Edward's memory. Achingly lonely though the long, silent nights remained, her days were now pleasantly occupied with visits and shopping excursions with Emily and Julianne-her two dearest friends, and of course Sarah, her dearest friend of all. Still, she had a great deal of free time on her hands here in London and wished to find something to occupy herself.
Something useful. A project of some sort. Most days she felt as if all she was doing in life was taking up space.
Not wishing to dwell any longer on her increasingly somber thoughts, nor on the more salacious parts of the book, parts that had reignited desires she'd thought long buried, she said, "I recently learned that the Memoirs, in addition to being the latest scandal, is also responsible for a new rage sweeping the ton."
Emily arched a brow. "Oh? Making love in a moving carriage?"
"Or in the billiard room-"
"No," Carolyn said with a laugh, cutting off Julianne's guess. "It's the notes the author describes."
"Oh, yes, the mysterious unsigned missives the Anonymous Lady received from one of her lovers," Julianne said in a breathless voice. "She'd arrive at the time and place in the note and they'd engage in a tryst."
"Exactly," Carolyn said. "Last night at Lord and Lady Lerner's musicale I heard several ladies say they've received such notes. And the results were very satisfactory."
"I would image so," Sarah said, her nod sending her spectacles sliding down her nose. "I'd very much like to receive such a note."
"Indeed?" asked Emily, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "From whom?"
Sarah blinked and pushed up her glasses. "Why, Matthew, of course. In fact, I told him so over breakfast this morning."
Julianne heaved a long, dreamy sigh. "I would loveto receive such a note. It's so… dashing. And romantic."
"Such a note would ruin your reputation," Carolyn said gently to her overly romantic friend.
"Yes, but to be desired so strongly…" Julianne heaved another sigh. "The Memoirs have taught me so many things. Things Mother certainly never told me."
"No one's mother would ever tell them such things," Carolyn said with a smothered laugh of horror. Certainly her mother never had. On the eve of her wedding, her mother had only offered the troubling and cryptic advice for her to close her eyes, brace herself, and recall that the ordeal would be over in a matter of moments.
Clearly Mother did not know of what she spoke, because her wedding night had been a beautiful, tender experience that marked the beginning of her and Edward's deeply satisfying and intimate bond.
"My mother has never spoken of such things with me," said Emily. "Indeed, if it weren't for the fact that she gave birth to six children, I'd be tempted to say she didn't know how we were conceived. I think it very fortunate that an Anonymous Lady wrote the Memoirs to drag us all from behind the shroud of ignorance. Someday soon some lucky, handsome, wealthy man will have the good sense to fall in love with me, and he will be very happy that I've read the book."
Carolyn glanced up at the portrait of Edward that hung above the fireplace and a flood of sadness swept over her. Love and intimacy were over for her. Edward had been such a wonderful, honest, kind and loving man. To this day she considered it a miracle that the very eligible, very handsome Viscount Wingate had singled her out for his attention. Indeed, if her father hadn't been a physician and the viscount hadn't happened to injure his hand in the same London bookstore where she and her father were browsing, they most likely never would have met. But from that first moment, she'd felt as if she found a piece of herself she hadn't even realized was missing.
Blinking away the memories, Carolyn forced a smile and said, "Well, perhaps we'll hear of more notes being received at Lady Walsh's masquerade tonight. It is rumored to be a gala event."
"I heard more than three hundred guests are expected," reported Sarah. "Matthew told me this morning that Lord Surbrooke is arriving in London today and will attend."
For reasons she neither understood nor cared to examine, Carolyn's pulse jumped at the mention of her new brother-in-law's closest friend. She'd met Lord Surbrooke several times over the years, as Edward had known him, but she herself had only become better acquainted with him earlier this summer during a house party at Matthew's country estate.
At first she'd categorized the handsome, charming earl as nothing more than another shallow aristocrat, spoiled by too much money, free time, and fawning women. Yet when he believed himself unobserved, his dark blue eyes turned pensive and seemed to harbor sadness. It was an emotion she understood well, and she couldn't help but wonder if some manner of tragedy had befallen him in the past.
But there was something else in his eyes… something that disrupted her calm and made her insides flutter in the most unsettling way. Something she wasn't quite certain she liked.
She was saved from commenting when Julianne chimed in, "Mother told me that Mr. Logan Jennsen will also attend the party."
Emily wrinkled her nose. "I'm certain he'll be easy to spot in the crush. He'll no doubt be garbed as a serpent. Or perhaps a wolf."
"I don't understand why you dislike him so," Sarah said. "He's very entertaining."