Page 45 of His Haunted Duchess
“Coming very close together, you know.”
“It will be expected, of course, that you will live at Highcastle which will assist in this process.”
“Living in the same house most certainly helps.”
“You and your husband will come together frequently which is to be expected.”
“As expected as anything, or so they say.”
Caroline smiled quizzically but said nothing. She had not shared her distancing plans with her aunt and Winifred, but thus far, they hadn’t said anything to counter her inclinations—at least, she thought they hadn’t. Her aunt continued in a slightly more lucid vein.
“The wedding itself will be a simple affair,” Aunt Olivia said. “The ceremony, vows, and marriage lines—and all of the necessary paperwork is in order.”
Winifred put up a trembling hand.
“I do hate to be one to doubt, but do we know all of the papers are in order? What a horror to get to the altar itself and fault but for a signature!”
She shuddered. Aunt Olivia took a hearty sip of ratafia.
“The duke did say that all was in order. I expressly questioned him on the day of the picnic.”
Caroline winced. She had little doubt that Frederic endured that experience with equanimity, but felt for him, nonetheless. Winifred nodded approvingly. Aunt Olivia loaded her plate with two more biscuits.
“The bans were published.”
“One may as well be single if the wedding is not in print.”
“Yes, thank you, Winifred. In any case?—”
“I had a cousin once, a Mrs. Hendricks, who failed to publish her bans with sufficient time, and?—”
“Winifred! We were speaking, if you’ll remember, ofcoming together.”
“Oh yes—yes, of course.” She turned to Caroline. “We will be there with you, dear, every step of the way.”
“No, we won’t!” Aunt Olivia looked as if she might turn into a turnip. “A couple needs quiet space, Winifred—intimate space—in order to produce a child.”
Winifred hadn’t blushed, Caroline was sure, in several years. She made up for the dearth now by coloring a hearty crimson. Caroline could feel a similar blush spreading across her own cheeks though she couldn’t think why. Aunt Olivia seemed to have run out of words and ratafia at the same moment and was at quite a loss for both.
“It’s about this intimate space that you’d like to speak?” Caroline prompted. “Is there something I ought to—know?”
Aunt Olivia nodded. Winifred took a deliberate sip of ratafia, pursing her lips primly. Aunt Olivia chewed her biscuit then swallowed hard.
“Yes, well—in this intimate space, it’s a special time to be close together?—”
“Very close or so I’m told.”
“You’re very correct, Winifred. It’s the closest I’ve ever been to another person, saving perhaps a midwife, and that because a child was born breach.”
Caroline couldn’t help but feel that her aunt’s information was somewhat dated, considering the child in question was now the acting lord of the estate. She was obviously trying with all diligence to help.
“It’s likely your husband will be quite fervent,” Aunt Olivia said.
“Yes, very.”
“Like a prayer, only with much more passion.”
“A good deal more if I’m any judge.”
