Captive Splendors by Fern Michaels Page B

“First you speak of whores and then you talk about making mistresses out of wives. In that case, what is the difference between a legitimate spouse and a woman who sells her favors?”
    â€œThe difference, my son, is between passion and venality. It is the line between inspirations of desire and planned behavior, the wide breach between tenderness and love and promiscuousness.”
    â€œGod, Father, you really do take me for a bounder, a jackanapes, a whoremonger!” Caleb said hotly, the fine hairs at the back of his neck bristling. “If any other man talked to me in such a way—”
    â€œIt’s because I care for you,” Regan interrupted. “You haven’t had the most normal upbringing. Not in the least. You’ve spent your life among men, aboard ship or in the seaports of the world. Not exactly the kinds of places where a man could learn to appreciate women. All I’m saying is that when the time comes for you to marry, in all likelihood it won’t be to one of the doxies on the wharf. She’ll be a girl carefully nurtured and watched over by her family. And in that case, her initiation into love will come from her husband, and he must take full responsibility.”
    Caleb ran a hand through his dark hair. “All right, Father, it seems as though you’re not going to let me off without this little talk about the birds and the bees. But you’re years late with it. I’ll play your little game and listen to what you have to say. You were telling me about a man’s responsibility for turning a sheltered, innocent girl into a passionate, responsive wife. What does that responsibility entail?”
    â€œFor one thing, a man must understand he is not an animal in a state of rut with only one purpose in mind —to satisfy himself by raping the woman.” Regan’s voice lowered, and a deep note of sorrow entered his next words. “You saw what rape did to Sirena and how she suffered.”
    â€œFather, whatever you may be thinking, I am not a rapist,” Caleb said defensively. “I saw what happened to Sirena, I was there, yes. I’ll never forget it. I don’t consider myself like those scurves who—”
    â€œDon’t be so hotheaded. However you look at it, if a woman isn’t ready for you, taking her is tantamount to rape. Can you imagine what it’s like to be an inexperienced young girl in her first encounter with sex? The nudity of a man, the hugeness of his sex? And to be ridden? I am fully aware that it isn’t always horrible to every young woman. I’m speaking of the sensitive, intelligent girl. A girl like Wren, for instance.”
    â€œI’ll ask again. What responsibility does a man take?”
    â€œPatience. Knowing how to enjoy the awakening of a woman’s spirit and passions. Learning how to arouse her and lead her into the mysteries of the flesh. Even if a woman isn’t a virgin, if she’s been badly used, can you conceive of how frightful it would be to be taken without tenderness? Compare that fear with the delight of a woman overflowing with love for the man hungering for his body, yearning for his caresses.” “And suppose a man finds himself strapped to a woman who is incapable of this sublime passion even after every consideration and patience has been shown her?” Caleb wondered, watching for Regan’s reaction.
    â€œThen either she’s a goose or the man is a bounder. And since you tell me you’re not a bounder, Cal, be careful not to turn the woman you marry into a goose.”
    Caleb laughed again, this time uproariously, leaving behind the embarrassment he had felt earlier.
    Just then the door opened and Sirena appeared. “What’s going on in here between you two?” she asked, moving over to Regan, her taffeta petticoats rustling with each step she took. A puzzled expression crossed her face. “Caleb, what in the world is so