is talking about, it is a good time to discuss what is wise behavior, what is becoming, and what is very likely to be misunderstood and taken as permission you really do not mean to give.”
“We’ve already talked about it, Mama.”
“Then why are you still unhappy and apparently confused?”
Jemima looked up and blinked, tears in her eyes again. “What is rape? I mean exactly? Could it happen to me? Would I die? I mean, would I have to commit suicide? That’s a terrible sin, isn’t it?”
“If someone is so desperately unhappy that she is driven to suicide, then I think I would forgive her,” Charlotte answered. “And I am certain God is better than I am, so I think He would forgive her too. There might be a price to pay, I don’t know. There normally is for anything done less well than we could have done it, for acts of omission as well as commission. But it is not my place, thank heaven, to judge anyone else. And as far as Mrs. Quixwood is concerned, we don’t know if she meant to die.”
“So she’ll be all right? In heaven, I mean?” Jemima said earnestly.
“Certainly. It is the man who raped her who will not.”
“Everybody says ‘rape,’ but they don’t say what he actually did to her.”
Charlotte knew that she must face the issue now, or make it even worse.
“We have talked about love and marriage before, and having children,” she said frankly. “If you love someone, and he is gentle and funny and wise, as your father is, then the acts of intimacy are wonderful. You will treasure them always. But if you imagine that kind of act with someone you do not know or like, and he tears your clothes off you and forces you and hurts you—”
Jemima let out a gasp of horror.
“That is what is called rape,” Charlotte finished. “It is terrible at the time—it must be—but that is not all. You may find that you are with child, which will have consequences for the rest of your life, because the child is a person, and one you have brought into the world. You will love him, or her, but the child will also remind you of what happened.”
Jemima stared at her, blinking slowly, tears on her cheeks.
“And as you have already heard, people will tend to blame you,” Charlotte continued. “They will say that somehow it was your own fault. You were dressed in such a way that he thought you were willing, or that you invited him and only said ‘no’ at the last moment. Or he may even say you were perfectly happy at the time, but that you are now claiming it is his fault now so that you are not to blame for losing your virginity, and therefore your reputation.”
“I think I might kill myself too,” Jemima said slowly.
“There will be no need,” Charlotte told her steadily. “It will not happen to you. You will not see young men alone until you are a very great deal older, by which time you will also be wiser and more able to make your own wishes known, unmistakably. No one ever treated me that way, nor will they treat you less than as the woman you choose to be.”
Jemima nodded. “And Papa will catch the man who did that to Mrs. Quixwood, won’t he?”
“Mrs. Quixwood is not his case, but he will help how he can. I fear, though, that it will not be easy, and it may take some time.”
Jemima smiled. “We’re lucky, aren’t we, to have Papa to look after us?”
“Yes, we are. But you will still not see young men alone, no matter who they are.”
“But …” Jemima began.
Charlotte raised her eyebrows slightly.
“But with others? If Fanny Welsh is there too, it’s all right?” Jemima insisted.
“I will take it under advisement, and let you know,” Charlotte replied.
CHAPTER
12
NARRAWAY HATED PRISONS, BUT it had quite often been necessary in the past for him to visit people awaiting trial, and sometimes even afterward when they were convicted. However, seeing Alban Hythe was more personal, and therefore painful in a quite different way.
Hythe looked ill. He was clearly exhausted and he seemed undecided as to whether he should even try to appear calm. He greeted Narraway courteously, but with fear jumping in his eyes.
Narraway tried to dismiss the overwhelming pity from his mind. He needed clarity of thought if he was to be of any help. They sat opposite each other across a scarred