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“And that finishes the drawing room!” Meg said brightly. She pushed some fabric samples away and looked at the betrothed couple with obvious delight. “All that remains to discuss are the bedchambers, your dressing room, Kitty, and your upstairs sitting room.”
Kitty looked at her prospective husband and bit her lip to hide a smirk. Mr. Standen’s eyes were glazed over and his normally impeccable couture showed signs of wear and tear; a byproduct of a seemingly endless afternoon sequestered in the drawing room in Berkeley Square, deliberating with the ladies of the house on decorating decisions for the home he and Kitty had hired to reside in after their wedding in the fall. He had started the process only too willing to demonstrate his understanding of the best way of appointing each room in an elegant house befitting the heir of a Viscount. His taste was extremely nice, and Kitty had mostly sat back as he and Meg argued over what fixtures were most appropriate for a house in which to entertain members of the ton. As time had gone on, however, his eyes had begun to lose some of their spark and he gave in to almost everything Meg had recommended just to avoid the battle.
“Dash it, Meg, surely you and Kit can devise a scheme for her bedchamber without my help. Do my own room the way I want to at another time. Can’t be expected to decorate a ladies’ bedchamber; stands to reason!” grumbled Mr. Standen.
“Well, I’m sure I can advise Kitty,” Meg said, a little doubtfully, “And I have no doubt it would look all the crack when we were done with it! But your opinions are so particular that I fear that I would hear complaints about this and that forever on.”
“Ask m’mother for help, then,” Freddy suggested hopefully. “No use asking me. Don’t even know what kind of furniture Kit will need in the dressing room. Never seen a lady's dressing room, after all.”
Taking pity on her betrothed, Kitty said, “I’m certain you and I can do a good job on our own, Meg.” Naively, she continued, “I’m quite sure Freddy won’t have much cause to notice what my bedchamber looked like, anyway, so my tastes are unlikely to bother him. Isn’t that right, Freddy?”
Meg looked shocked, and said, “But, my dear Kitty—”
“Exactly so!” Freddy said. To Kitty’s astonishment, she saw that he was bright red and flustered. He fairly leapt out of his chair. “Well, that is to say…not a conversation for company! Must go anyway; meeting m’father at my club. Can’t take you, Kit—talk with you later! You too, Meg!” He started walking backwards out of the drawing room, stopped, ran back, kissed his betrothed’s fingertips with somewhat less than his typical elegance, and beat a hasty retreat. Meg burst out laughing. Kitty looked at her in astonishment.
“Good God! What was that about?” She exclaimed.
“I declare I’ve never seen Freddy move that quickly in my entire life!” responded Meg with mirth. “To be sure, Kitty, I do not blame him one bit. What a thing to say!”
“But what did I say?” Kitty asked, befuddled. “Was it about the bedchambers?”
“To be sure it was, you goose!” Meg said. “What engaged man doesn’t anticipate the inside of his wife’s bedchambers? Really, Kitty, you can be so missish at times. I am sure it doesn’t signify, talking about this with me—after all, we will be sisters, and I am a married woman! But to ask Freddy to discuss whether or not he will have much cause to see your bedchamber in front of his sister is the outside of enough!”
“Is…is that why Freddy looked so shocked?” Kitty said faintly, stammering with embarrassment. “But our….our…marital relations were the last thing on my mind, I assure you!”
“That was only too obvious,”giggled Meg. “Though I am sure it’s no credit to my poor brother if that is the case!”
“It’s not about that at all!” Kitty said, bristling in defense of her betrothed. “Indeed, Meg, you misunderstand me! I have no fear that Freddy will be….all that’s good and proper in that regard after we are wed!”
“‘All that’s good and proper’ is exactly what you should hope he is not, in your bedchamber, my dear Kitty!” said her expectant sister, unanswerably. “It is clear that I shall have a lot to explain to you before your wedding night! I don’t know how I haven’t thought about talking about it with you until now, but it’s true that Miss Fishguard was a maiden herself while you were at Arnside, and you without a mama. It’s no wonder that you said what you did. Although what Freddy must be thinking of it, I don’t know!”
“I expect he was thinking that he was marrying a little prude,” Kitty said, glumly. “Perhaps he’ll cry off entirely. Oh, Meg, you don’t think he was offended, do you?”
“No, I don’t!” Meg said. “Whatever little sense Freddy has, he has much sensibility, especially where you are concerned, Kitty. Besides,” she said, mischievously, “I have seen the way Freddy misses steps in the waltz when he dances with you. My dear girl, that man has never missed a dance step in his entire life! No, he won’t cry off. However…it wouldn’t hurt to avoid talking about bedchambers and marriage beds in the future, when you’re in company, that is.”
“Oh yes, I will,” Kitty said. “As it is, I know he’ll chastise me about it the next time we’re in conversation. He will lecture me that such conversations are ‘not at all the thing!’” Both ladies dissolved into sisterly giggles, and turned back to the swatches.
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Mr. Standen’s words to his betrothed on the subject when he next obtained a private moment with her were much different, however, than Kitty had been fearing.
“Mean to talk to you about what you said t’other day, Kit,” he said, introducing the subject with some embarrassment after dinner some days later. His sister Meg had withdrawn to her bed, tired from the ever more heavy burden of her pregnancy. “About the bedchambers.”
“Oh, Freddy,” Kitty cried, dropping her eyes to the ground, “I know! I am so very sorry for that moment, for I know you should’ve thought me such a goose! I wasn’t thinking about….the way that our living situation must change in that regard after we’re married. But since Meg explained what I was missing, I declare I haven’t stopped thinking about it since! I hope you’re not in a miff?”
“No, no!” Freddy reassured her, “It ain’t that at all. I’m not in a miff. Came to me after I left. Hadn’t more than a few hours with that Fish of yours following our betrothal and don’t guess she enlightened you much about what passes between a husband and wife. Figured that you likely didn’t ask the right questions—well, stands to reason you didn’t! Betrothal was a hum at the time, after all.”
“Yes,” Kitty said, “I didn’t think to ask her about….about the marriage bed.”
“Are you afraid of it, Kit?” asked Mr. Standen, bluntly. “What I mean is—don’t need to be. I wouldn’t do anything to hurt you. And won’t make a push to do anything you don’t want to do.” He paused. “Even if you don’t want to have anything to do with all that.”
“Do you…do you not want to have anything to do with all that?” Kitty asked hesitantly.
“Shouldn’t say that,” Freddy said, rubbing his nose thoughtfully. “Not a natural thing for a man to not think about his wife, you know! Or any other woman as becoming as you, for that matter,” he added, in a rush of candor. “Asking a bit too much, Kit. Not the thing, but I ain't perfect, you know."
"I am afraid that I won't know how to be a good wife to you, Freddy," Kitty said glumly, "And I so want to be. But the truth is that I have no experience at all in these matters."
"I should think not!" Freddy exclaimed. "Good God, Kit, a fellow don't want his wife to have experience in these matters before they get leg shackled!"
"Oh no, I know that," reassured Kitty, "But what I meant was is that I do not have any knowledge about how to be pleasing in...in what passes between a man and his wife. I very much fear that I may be a disappointment in that regard, Freddy. Most ladies have mothers or sisters to advise them about this, and of course, I do not." Although Meg had been as instructive to Kitty as she felt she could be, naturally she had not wished to dwell too explicitly on the thought of her brother en flagrante delicto with his new wife, and Kitty left the conversation more confused than she had been at the outset. "Perhaps I could write to Olivia," she said thoughtfully, "But I hardly wish to introduce the subject through letters—"
"Lord, no!" Freddy said. "Now look, Kit, don't be spreading the subject all over town! Between me and you, you know! Private matter! Manage just fine on our own. Truth is," he said, "It ain't the worst thing in the world, having an innocent wife to practice with. Dashed appealing, if you want to know the truth."
"Do you know what to do, Freddy?" Kitty asked a little anxiously.
"Well, Kit, upon my word! Not the thing to ask!" Freddy spluttered. His mind cast back to the occasional encounters he had during his school years, most of which had been brief and all of which had been awkward. Unlike many fashionable men of the ton, he had eschewed dalliances with the dashing women of the town as more likely to lead to scandal than pleasure. Nothing horrified Mr. Standen more than the possibility of shaming his family by becoming one of the town's on dits, and until his betrothal to Kitty Charing, it had been easy to turn his mind away from matters of the flesh. As his marriage date rapidly approached, this was more and more difficult. He took Kitty's hand in hers and held it firmly. "I'll take care of you, Kit. Nothing for you to fear. That's all you need to know."
Shyly, she raised her eyes to his. "I know you will, Freddy," she said. She was coloring prettily, and a smile played on her lips. "The truth is, and I know it's not ladylike to say, but—I'm not afraid. Quite the opposite, in fact."
"Well, by Jove!" Freddy exclaimed, a world of possibility opening to his mind.
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