Agatha
"What happened next? Did they then tell you what happens between a man and a woman?" Agatha enthusiastically pushed for answers.
Rosalie eagerly waved the fan. Whether it was due to the summer weather or the topic being spoken at hand, who could tell?
She licked her lips as if they were dry, whilst they were already smudged with lipstick. "I dare not share it with certainty, not when I have not experienced it myself."
The carriage that carried them shook as it took on a hump, and their heads almost butted against each other. Luckily the plushy seats cushioned them so that the rattling did not affect them much.
Rosalie cleared her throat and continued their conversation. The bumpy ride would not stop her. "All I know is that you touch each other to feel good, with your hands and even your lips."
Agatha's eyebrows lifted.
"Men know these things. They are not shielded like us women. Your husband shall lead you," Rosalie went on.
"And for a woman to get pregnant, what would have happened? Because I wonder how women in brothels can go years without being with child."
Rosalie shrugged. "Do not let a man reach his peak in you."
"What ever do you mean?"
"It is the climax. Where a man groans in pleasure and some substance is excreted from his loins. That can have you with child."
The carriage came to a halt, having arrived at their destination. They were at the gate of the Avondale manor.
The coachman driving the horses of the carriage said a few words to the men guarding the entrance before they parted the tall steel gates open.
The roadway to the manor was lined up with well-kept flowers and the spiraling green lawn that was backed by luscious dark trees.
"We have arrived," the coachman announced to them and jumped off. He placed the stairs by the carriage, and then waited for their exit.
Realizing that they were out of time sooner than she anticipated, Agatha grabbed Rosalie's arm. "You do not have to do this."
"My indecision on whether I should do it or not flitted the moment I set foot in this carriage belonging to the Avondale Manor." She emphasised the last words, reminding Agatha that just next to the carriage by the door stood the coachman who could hear them.
"You can achieve your dreams without the help of a man taking advantage of you," Agatha insisted.
"How so? A foreigner like me, who shall take me seriously?" Rosalie pushed off Agatha's hand. "I am poor in case you did not know. I find no joy in scrapping from penny to penny daily, being at the mercy of Madame Anne de Balbi's kindness. There is no problem in recognising that if I am to make it, I need a helping hand to not face such hardship." She lowered her voice by a tempo. "As William Grafton's mistress, I will live a lavish and comfortable life. I will not be just some Rosalie who swam from God knows where. His name will be the weight of my name. They will take me seriously when I apply to be part of the grand performances, or better yet, I may become so well known that I could call on thousands to attend my solo performances. Imagine that. When I will ask him to purchase a piano for me, he will do it. Anything I need to sit above, to be high and mighty, will not be so impossible anymore."
With that, she pushed the door and exited. The coachman was at the ready to take her hand into his, assisting her to gracefully step down.
As soon as Agatha was standing next to Rosalie, the huge charcoal door opened to show off an old belly butler. A small steady smile graced his face as they approached him.
"Miss Rosalie," he tilted his head a bit for her. "And..." He was not expecting the company of Agatha.
"This is Miss Agatha. She will be our chaperone."
"Oh, of course," he mumbled.
Rosalie would not mind coming alone, but Anne insisted someone magnified in society to be her chaperone. It would come off as classy and William would take her more seriously. Rosalie was still to choose the man she saw fit among many who had come with proposals. If news got out that she went to the Avondale manor, it would do her good that she was seen with a chaperone. Men loved the idea of an untouched jewel; shiny, spotless, and chaste.
However, what was good for Rosalie was not necessarily good for Agatha. If word got out that she was the chaperone to such a sordid affair, it would do no good to her status in her Season, and most importantly, her Mama would be more than vexed. Which she wanted. Anything to give her Mama a heart attack, while the Earl of Pembroke may rethink his fantasy to propose and wed her.
Stepping into the manor, they were welcomed by the wafting rich scent of wood, roses, and something she could certainly not describe. In short, it was the expensive good life. She was definitely out of place.
The butler led them to the drawing-room, and to her surprise, they found Selina relaxed on a superlative pastel blue settee. Donned in her best as if she had gone out that morning, she read a book with great concentration.
"My Lord will see you soon," the butler told them, "I will tell the kitchen to prepare some tea and biscuits as your refreshments."
At that, Selina lifted her eyes and frowned in confusion. Though she made sure to conceal her surprise as soon as she stood up.
"Miss Agatha—" Selina had started to greet them but was interrupted by her brother coming in.
"Rosalie!" William wore an expression Agatha had never seen on him in the few times they spoke: completely and utterly bewitched. "I was in my study room when they announced your arrival."
Selina took this opportunity to disappear after the butler.
"My Lord, how do you do?" Rosalie's voice suddenly became honey that was sweet to the soul.
To which William grinned at in absolute delight. "Delightful now that I am in your presence."
How was it that in a matter of seconds, Agatha felt like the cloak on the wall. She took a step back to make herself even more insignificant.
"I see you brought yourself a chaperone," William caught sight of her movement. "Miss Agatha," he greeted before his attentions were quickly withdrawn from her, not caring for her response. "Feel at home, Rosalie," he but cooed.
"Such a lovely manor you own," Rosalie echoed Agatha's thoughts.
"Glad that you like it. Would you like a tour?"
"If that will not be a problem," Rosalie agreed.
Taking her hand in his, William led them, and Agatha followed two steps behind to give them space.
"Such paintings must have cost a lot," Rosalie said in awe.
The receiving platform, where there was a huge crystal chandelier hanging from the roof and a cascade of stairs leading to the next floor, also had exquisite paintings of abstract impressionism and pointillism.
"Not quite. Most are my brother's work."
This caught Agatha's attention.
"Your brother paints?" Even Rosalie was shocked. "I would never have taken it to be but professional work."
"It is a passion he has secretly nurtured for more than a decade." There was a hint of pride lacing William's voice.
"A decade? I did not take him to be quite old."
William laughed and Agatha wondered if the Duke looked so carefree and happy when he too laughed. She had never seen him laugh in public. He was always aloof, cold, and rigid, if not carrying his usual look of boredom and lack of interest in what was around him.
Once, as Mama led her out to their carriage after attending a gathering, she had seen him. He was alone, looking at the sky with a sort of stillness as if his soul had left his body. And from within came a feeling she did not want to confess to herself. It was a need to approach him and give him her company, to show him that in the world was someone who could understand and see him.
"He is not old, only 30 years of age."
Agatha shelved that in a secret drawer within her. Nine years older than her, they were so apart in many things: age, status, and upbringing. Maybe that was what made him so interesting. People tend to admire the things they cannot afford for themselves.
They were just leaving William's study when a scream broke from the end of the corridor. "I do not want to!"
"Well, if the Duke finds out you have been lagging behind in your studies during his travel, he shall not take it nicely!" A woman snapped.
"I do not care!"
Rapid steps sounded from the floor before a small boy was revealed in front of them.
"Arthur, that should be enough!" William's once indulgent voice became authoritative and firm.
In a fit of rage, William was not a match for Arthur, who abruptly kicked his brother's leg in frustration and yelled. "You will not tell me what to do! You are not my father!"
Before William could give him his comeback, he had already passed, continuing his run. The woman who had been quibbling with him emerged, gave a rushed apology to William, and then continued her chase after the little boy. Agatha presumed her to be the governess.
The little act left an awkward atmosphere among them. Looking at William, Agatha realized that in all the rough places of the Duke was William softer. He was the angel to his devilish older brother in appearance.
"I was not aware you have a younger brother," Rosalie tried to spark conversation.
"Not many are aware of it, but I do."
Agatha was not surprised why the young one had barely made a public appearance. Such behaviour would give the gossipers something to cater to their whim.
It was later on, before their departure, when William wooed Rosalie.
"Instead of meeting you at a seamy rendezvous, I intentionally brought you to the manor to show my earnest heart for you. You will not be some mistress I am embarrassed to be seen with, but a woman I delight in and shall treat well. Even when I will be forced to marry shall I not abandon you. My feelings are unyielding, and truly do I hope you will consider me."
Agatha sighed. Life was not easy for anyone. Who could refuse that? It seemed Rosalie did not have resistant footing for William's charm.
S.V