“An insect?” Warren snorted. “You’ve always been a hopeless romantic.”
“I’ve never been a romantic.” Townsend glared at them. “Must I go on?”
“I wish you would,” said Aidan. “I’m actually starting to feel better.”
“Let’s see... I took her to an orgy at Wroxham’s country estate to cure her of a tendre for a certain gentleman who shall remain unnamed, who happened to be embroiled in a scandalous assignation.”
They all looked at Warren as a blush spread about his ears.
“I had my cock out and everything,” said Warren. “It was not well done of you, Towns. Our friendship barely survived.”
“My marriage barely survived. Aurelia and I had a screaming fight in the carriage on the way home, and...” He fell silent. “Well, I had a lot of apologizing to do afterward, to you and everyone. Love makes people do stupid things.”
Aidan gave a mirthless laugh. “I wouldn’t know about that. There’s no love between us.”
“That doesn’t mean you aren’t being stupid,” said Barrymore in his typically forthright way.
Aidan leveled his friend with a glare. “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying that when I was hurting Minette, I didn’t even know I was doing it. I thought I was being a caring, honorable chap. I was incredibly stupid. Maybe you’re being stupid too.”
“In what way?”
Warren jumped in to smooth rising tempers. “We don’t know in what way, Arlington, or what’s going on between the two of you, but maybe we can offer advice after we’ve watched you muck about for a while.”
“So you’re going to make a study of my marriage?” Aidan leaned back in his chair. “Is this absolutely necessary?”
“Yes,” they all said in unison.
He let out a sigh. “I’m only warning you, our problems run deep. We’re not at all similar. Unlike your wives, Guinevere is hardly part of our class.”
“Our class?” Barrymore tilted his head.
“Well, there’s your problem,” said Townsend. “If you’re lording it over her with your riches and title—”
“It’s not that,” Aidan interrupted. “She scorns my riches and title. We don’t have the same world view. We are not the same.”
“And yet she’s your wife,” said Warren. “You must find some way to connect with her. You must have something in common.”
Aidan pursed his lips. After I fucked her in the temple, I molested her all through the night, kissing her and stroking her and hurting her. Oh, did I mention she likes erotic pain? “We have things in common,” he bit out. “Just...not enough. Not enough to build a workable marriage.”
“Not yet,” said Townsend. “But we’ll help you figure things out. The ladies will help too. You know how the three of them get when they put their heads together toward a common goal.”
The other gentlemen groaned. “Yes, we know,” said Warren. “All too well.”
“In this case, their scheming can be put to good use,” insisted Townsend. “This is important. Our friend’s happiness is at stake.”
The other men nodded and agreed that the women could be capital schemers when the situation called for it.
Good Christ. Aidan needed another drink.
* * * * *
“Dearest Gwen,” said Minette, crossing the sitting room to put an arm about her shoulders. “We have all become the most smashing of friends over the past week. Don’t you think?”
Gwen regarded Barrymore’s wife warily. What now? she thought.
It was true they’d become closer friends. She called all of them by their first names, and knew a great deal more about their marriages than she had ever really thought to. She had learned that Minette was the chatterbox of the group, while Aurelia put great stock in propriety and manners. She’d learned that Josephine grew up in India and even communed with tigers. Her friends were interesting and kind, and well-loved by their husbands.
“I’m so grateful for your friendship,” said Gwen politely. “Shall I call for more cakes?”
“Forget the cakes,” said Josephine, who tended to abruptness. “The time has come for a frank talk. A talk about you and Arlington.”
Gwen took another sip of tea. Bless them, they were so interested in her marriage, even though Gwen resisted talking about it. The three of them were in such affectionate accord with their husbands, it made Gwen feel hopeless. Even if Arlington could find something to love in her, he would never love her that much.
“A frank talk?” she echoed, forcing a smile. “That sounds serious.”
“You and Arlington have been married for what, six weeks now?” said Minette. “And, well, to be perfectly honest, people are still gossiping that the two of you don’t get along very splendidly. Which seems a shame, for you are both friendly and wonderful.”
“Oh,” said Gwen. “Well, ours was an arranged marriage.”
“So was ours.” Aurelia regarded her with sympathy. “And it is so awkward at first.”
“Yes, it is,” said Gwen, pouncing on this truth. “It was especially awkward for us, because he didn’t want to marry me. And honestly, I didn’t want to marry him either.”
“But you’re married now,” said Josephine. “Don’t you think he’s a fine fellow? He seems a caring enough husband.”
Gwen couldn’t say anything to disparage him when they all admired him so much. She couldn’t explain how he made her feel common and ugly in manners. She couldn’t explain how he brought out her wanton side, then pointed to it as evidence of her Welsh “wildness.” She couldn’t explain how she both adored and hated him.
“He is very admirable,” admitted Gwen. “I guess that’s part of why it’s...difficult.”
The ladies all watched her, waiting for her to elaborate.
“Why would it be difficult, if you find him admirable?” prompted Minette.
Gwen took a deep breath. “I suppose it’s because he’s so much finer than me. So much more confident and polished. I think he finds me wanting. No. I know he does.”
This confession brought tears to her eyes. She’d thought it to herself a thousand times, but to confess it out loud was embarrassing. It made it feel so awfully real.
“I’m afraid he’s not content in me. That I am not good enough. We cannot seem to...connect.”
Josephine, Minette, and Aurelia exchanged more glances. Aurelia rose from her chair. “I’ll be right back.”
After she left, Minette took her hand. “You are certainly not the only woman in history who’s had difficulty connecting to her husband. We all struggle with it, especially when you are wed to a particular sort of man, who is very strong in temperament, and titled and rich, and used to having his way. And when it comes to our husbands, well, you know, the lot of them had a rather infamous past.”
“A ‘rather infamous past’?” Josephine laughed. “You might as well say it plainly. They were rogues through and through.”
Gwen looked at them in surprise. “Your husbands? Rogues?”
“Yours too,” said Josephine. “They were known for it, I’m afraid.”
“But they are such family men now.”
“So is Arlington,” said Minette. “He’s different now that he’s married. He’s never been one to dote on women, so it’s novel and charming, the way he looks at you in that longing way.”
Gwen stared at her friend. If Arlington looked at her with longing, it was for carnal reasons only. “I think he mainly married me to have children,” she said. “And to have a portrait to hang over the fireplace. He sent for an artist right away.”
“Oh, how fun,” said Josephine. “I hope it turns out beautifully. Arlington looks so smart when he’s done up in his cape and sword and medallions. He wore them for the painting, didn’t he?”