Page 1 of Falling for a Footman

One

Great Farleigh Hall, Somerset, January 1811

"So, I promised to tell you how children are made," Charlotte's mother sighed in a way that told Charlotte she clearly dreaded the conversation as much as Charlotte did.

Charlotte clenched her teeth and cringed her toes in her slippers as she looked at the stucco on the high ceiling of the yellow drawing room in her parent’s country estate. If only she could be anywhere else...

“Maybe we should just wait,” Charlotte suggested and hoped that her mother might agree to it.

“No!” Lucy almost shouted. “I have waited this long to know. If Charlotte does not want to know, at least you have to tell me, Mama.”

Charlotte’s fourteen-year-old sister was leaning forward on the lemon-colored silk sofa and her eyes glistened with anticipation. A strand of her ice blonde hair, that was so like their mother’s, fell over her forehead, but Lucy seemed too preoccupied to notice.

“We will not wait, Charlotte,” their mother, the Duchess of Camborne, gently stated. She was sitting comfortably in a chair opposite them with her hands clasped in her lap. “Despite its delicate nature this is important information. I especially wish you to know, before you embark on your first season.”

Lucy made a sound as if she was about to protest, but their mother cut her off before she had the chance.

“And I know that Lucy will not give in unless I tell her as well.” Their mother raised her eyebrows in question. Charlotte nodded that she could go on without further interruptions from her.

Despite her being curious about what happened between men and women, she did not particularly want to have this conversation. It would be much better if her mother could simply give her a book where she could read about it. But so far Charlotte had not found any on the topic in her parents’ extensive library.

“Right,” their mother said and moved a little in her seat. Charlotte’s stomach curled into a tight knot as she wondered exactly how bad it could be. She had grown up in the country and had seen sheep and horses, even dogs, mating, and the females mainly looked bored by the process. But perhaps it was different for humans?

"As you might know men and women are built differently," Charlotte's mother went on hastily, seemingly thinking that the quicker she divulged herself of the information, the speedier they could get on with their day.

Lucy nodded eagerly. Charlotte hoped that her own face had slipped into the societal mask that she had been practicing before her first season. The one that showed a slight interest but revealed no other emotions.

“In their... genital area,” their mother added as if they could have any doubt which difference, she was referring to.

Charlotte looked at the grey weather outside of the window. She could be out walking now. The weather was rather fine for January, even if it was clouded. She could go to the dog run and bring one or two of the dogs on the walk. The dog keeper, Mr. Giles, was only glad when she helped him exercise them.

“Yes, I've seen that in art books and the British Museum," Lucy exclaimed.

Charlotte had also noticed the difference when they had seen the Greek marble statues at the British Museum, but she was certainly not about to mention it.

"When you marry you will..." Charlotte's mother paused as she was clearly trying to find the right word. "I suspect that you at least have some notion that children are created when the husband and wife are alone together in the bedroom?"

Charlotte certainly had a notion. She all too vividly still remembered the morning nine years ago, when her younger brother Henry had burst into their mother's bedroom, and they had found their parents naked in bed. It had been this experience that had prompted Lucy to make her mother promise to tell them how children were made when Charlotte turned eighteen. And Lucy had been adamant to hold their mother to that promise ever since. If she could have learned sooner, she probably would.

"Yes, but what do they do in the bedroom?" Lucy asked.

She sat on the edge of her chair. Charlotte slumped into hers as if the chair could shield her from having to have this conversation. For once their mother did not seem to notice their bad posture. Her face had taken on a crimson hue under her icy blonde hair. Charlotte had always envied her mother and Lucy their hair color; her own was a dark blonde that bordered on brown and seemed much too boring for her taste.

Charlotte's mother cleared her throat.

"Well, the man... as you have seen, the man has an appendage between his legs...”

“What’s it called?” Lucy interrupted.

“Lucy!” Charlotte hissed. With all of Lucy’s interruptions this was going to take hours and now their mother had finally given them a piece of information that was actually useful.

“What?” Lucy asked with the air of the innocent around her.

“Cease interrupting and let, Mama, talk,” Charlotte scolded her.

Lucy crossed her arms and slumped in her chair. When she pushed her bottom all the way back in the chair, her feet could hardly reach the floor. It was yet another trait that Lucy and their mother had in common, their small stature. Charlotte was built more like their father: tall and robust. Her feet easily reached the floor when she sat back in the chair, but who would want that in a woman?

Her friends always jested that she was lucky to be the daughter of a duke and have a large dowry: At least she could be certain to have an offer of marriage her first season. Charlotte would smile, because she knew that they were only teasing, but it felt like a barb every time.