Guilt skewered her. “Forgive me, Lottie. I am woefully distracted today, but it has nothing to do with you.”
“And it has everything to do with a certain handsome viscount,” Lottie guessed.
Hyacinth sighed heavily. “I am beginning to think that Town life is hardly everything I imagined it would be.”
“He is a disappointing lover?” Lottie asked.
Hyacinth’s cheeks went hot. She averted her gaze to her cooling tea. “No. Quite the opposite, in fact.”
Hosting parties and watching her fellow revelers carry on was one thing, Hyacinth had discovered. But she remained shy about having taken a lover. It was not what Old Hyacinth would have done. In all her years under Southwick’s rule, she would never have dared stray or contemplate the thought of another man. Now that she was free, taking a lover was what New Hyacinth felt she ought to do. Speaking of such intimate matters, however, still put her to the blush.
“Oh, do tell, Hyacinth,” Lottie said. “It is always the brooding gentlemen who know how to make love to a lady best. I shall live vicariously through you since I am currently suffering a spell of the dreaded empty bed.”
A spell of the dreaded empty bed.
Hyacinth shook her head. “Lottie, where do you come up with such nonsense?”
Lottie smiled brightly. “I fish it from my madcap mind, of course. Where else? But trust me, now that you have taken a lover as I suggested, you will never want to be without one. Best to choose your next before you are finished with Sidmouth. That way you shan’t be importuned as I have been by my lack of foresight. I cannot believe it has been nearly a month since I have been properly bedded. There are likely cobwebs in my drawers by now.”
She attempted to follow her friend’s logic. “I cannot fathom taking another lover at all. Tom is…”
She stopped herself from saying too much, feeling foolish as Lottie’s eyes went wide.
“Never say it.” Lottie placed her teacup on its saucer with an inelegant rattle of porcelain.
“Never say what?” she dared ask, despite the voice inside her telling her she ought to change the subject. And with all haste. She took a sip of tea to distract herself.
“Does Sidmouth have a staff to rival Priapus?” Lottie asked.
Hyacinth spat her tea.
All over her silken skirts, as it happened.
She quite feared she had stained them. And she also quite feared her friend was mad. “You cannot ask such questions, Lottie. Not even of me.”
“He does, doesn’t he?” Lottie shook her head, undeterred. “I suspected it. He is tall, and his hands are quite large. All excellent signs.”
She stiffened, giving up on her attempts to dab at the tea stains with her napkin. “Lottie! You are utterly outrageous!” But still, another, territorial part of her had her demanding an answer. “Have you been admiring Tom?”
“Why would I not? He is handsome. I am a woman with perfectly functioning eyes.” Lottie grinned at her. “You need not fear I shall set my cap at him myself. Though I would not mind dreadfully if his friend Brandon would come up to scratch. I had such high hopes for him. He is wickedly handsome, and tall as well. His fingers are elegant and long. Do you know, Hyacinth, you can tell a great deal about a man from looking at his hands alone?”
Hyacinth smiled in spite of herself. She was burning up with embarrassment, but Lottie was Lottie. Poor Grenfell had never been able to keep pace with her. Thank heavens she had not married a cruel man like Southwick. She never would have survived it. Some days, Hyacinth still considered it a miracle she had.
“I had no notion, dearest,” she said, amused by her friend’s antics.
“You will have to examine Sidmouth’s the next time you are together. You are still together, are you not? Has he broken it off with you already? Is that the reason you are Friday-faced?”
“No,” Hyacinth hastened to reassure her. “We have a bit of time remaining in our arrangement. After that, we shall go our separate ways as planned.”
“Oh my dear.” Lottie’s smile was replaced by a look of unadulterated sympathy. “Is that the problem? You are in need of a new lover when this one is gone?”
“I—” Hyacinth began, only to be cut off by her friend’s interruption.
“Have you thought about who it shall be?” she asked. “I do have some ideas. Lord Villiers is always an excellent option. What do you think of Sir Percival Wyndham? He