Page 88 of Pride, Prejudice & Wicked Pleasure

“It was a general question,” he said. “I assumed—but forgive me if I touch upon a sensitive matter. What brings you to Derbyshire?”

“How do you know I am but visiting?”

What the deuce was her purpose in such questions? he wondered.

“I understood from Mrs. Trenwith that you are touring the area with family.”

“Ah, yes, Abby. You must be well acquainted with her?”

He recalled her loquaciousness during the first lesson.

“You are under no obligation,” he told her. “As always, the pupil must approve any progression and dictates the pace of the lesson.”

She nodded. “Have you known Abby long?”

Perhaps she desired conversation to return to her former level of ease and trust. He sat down and filled his own glass.

“Nearly ten years.”

His answer seemed to surprise her.

“That long? You must be…good friends?”

“I consider her a dear friend.” He would have stopped there but found himself seeking a deeper rapport. “She was my mentor.”

He saw this bit of information stunned her.

“I was a young and naïve fellow at the time,” he explained, “and thought myself deeply in love with a Duchess, a beautiful widow of noble birth. In hindsight, it was more an infatuation than true devotion. She entertained my attentions at first, but at my first attempt to kiss her, she laughed at my awkwardness. She told me that only gentlemen of certain predilections and capabilities could satisfy her. Her remarks devastated me. She recommended me to her friend, Abigail Trenwith. I had every wish to prove myself as skilled a lover as any to be had. I was an eager student, and Abby a brilliant teacher, though I suspect any novice would have been in awe of her. My efforts made no difference to the Duchess, however. She had moved on to her next admirer.

“Do not feel sorrowful,” he added at seeing her lips formed in sympathy. “My heart healed soon enough.”

“Did you become an instructor after that?”

“I felt greatly indebted to Abby. When first she applied to me to serve in the capacity of a mentor, I balked, for surely there were any number of men who would leap at the opportunity. And that was precisely the problem, she pointed out to me. She had no wish for those men, but only those whom she could trust not to take advantage of the situation and those who would honour the education as the benefit of the student, not the teacher. As you can imagine, Abby can be quite persuasive.”

She agreed. “It did not take me long to adopt her philosophy.”

“Have you?”

“I have my reservations still. After all, what moral, upstanding citizen would not consider what we do a sin?”

“’There is nothing good or bad, but thinking makes it so,’” he quoted of Hamlet.

“Then we would, each of us, define our own morality.”

“And some of the worst sins have been perpetrated by a majority of individuals believing the same. What is the injury we do compared to what society has done—in the name of all that is good, moral, and Christian? Our preachers might do more good to turn their tongues against an institution such as slavery than condemn what man and woman were meant to do by nature.”

“Take care, sir! Your speech might be considered blasphemous.” But there was a quirk in her mouth that showed she did not condemn what he said.

“‘For as he thinks within himself, so he is.’ Book of Proverbs. I hope you do not consider yourself less worthy, less decent for what you have done.”

He sensed his words, or perhaps the tone of his voice, struck a chord within her.

“I am almost fully reconciled myself as a sinner,” she said with that light humor of hers. “But if it became known what I had done, innocent parties—my family—should be injured by my actions.”

“Does your unc—family—know you to be here?”

“My aunt and uncle are having dinner with friends in Lambton. I had mentioned the possibility meeting with Mrs. Trenwith. I spoke true when I said I was to meet with an old acquaintance who happened to be passing through Derbyshire, but the inference they would draw from my statement would be erroneous.”