Noble Destiny by Katie MacAlister

amount of concern. Patricia seemed to be upset about Charlotte’s relatives, and although heaven knew Charlotte herself wasn’t any too fond of her brother and her distant cousins, it seemed rather an odd thing to bring up objections to them now.
    â€œPeople will think you had them. With Dare.”
    â€œThat’s ridiculous.” Charlotte snorted, returning her attention to her list. “I am not even remotely related to you and Alasdair. Do you think the king would be offended if I were to not invite him?”
    â€œNo,” Patricia said, pacing the floor before Charlotte. “You don’t understand. If you and Dare marry so very quickly, people would be bound to talk about you.”
    â€œWell of course they’ll talk about us,” Charlotte reassured her in a soothing voice. “People always talk about me! Alasdair and I shall be the toast of the ton . How could we be anything else? A dashing, handsome earl and a lovely almost-contessa marrying in such a romantic manner is bound to cause envy in the hearts of everyone worth any consideration. I assure you I am quite used to being the darling of Society. I shan’t shame your brother, if that is your concern.”
    â€œOh…I give up,” Patricia said, gesturing defeat with her hands. Charlotte raised an eyebrow for a moment, then decided not to point out that worrying just caused spots, and she returned to her list. For half an hour the only sound in the cozy sitting room was that of the quill on paper.
    â€œLady Charlotte?”
    â€œMmm?” Charlotte crossed Lady Jersey’s name off her list. The rude comments she had delivered after she discovered Charlotte had attended her party in disguise were utterly and completely uncalled for. Charlotte relished the opportunity to give Lady Jersey a taste of crow.
    â€œWhat…what is it like?”
    Charlotte looked up. “Revenge? It’s quite satisfying.”
    A startled expression flickered across Patricia’s face before a dusky rose color swept up from her neck. “No, not revenge. Relations. Marital relations,” she added for good measure.
    â€œMarital relations? You mean your husband’s relatives? I have no idea—”
    â€œNo, not that sort of relations, I mean… relations .”
    Patricia’s deep blush and her downcast eyes made a connection in Charlotte’s mind. “Oh, you mean the joining between your womanly parts and his manly instrument? I’m sure I shouldn’t tell you, but as my dearest cousin Gillian told me about it before I was wed, and as you are to be a bride next week, I shall just this once break the rule and tell you.” She set down the quill and arranged her hands on her lap, then looked her sister-to-be in the eye.
    Patricia leaned forward, her attention completely on Charlotte. “Yes?”
    â€œIt’s messy.” Charlotte nodded twice, then picked up her quill and started double-checking the list.
    â€œMessy? That’s all? It’s…messy?”
    â€œYes, that’s all.” Charlotte looked up for a moment, tapping the quill on her chin. “My cousin did have a good deal more to say about it, something about transporting her to heaven, but to be truthful, I thought it was just a messy business. Necessary, if one wishes to have children, and I wish to, but nonetheless, it’s messy.”
    â€œMessy how?”
    It was Charlotte’s turn to affect a faint blush. She waved her hand dismissively. “There are bodily humors and such to be contended with. Not to mention certain…scents. My advice to you is to have a linen cloth handy. Two if your husband is particularly vigorous.”
    â€œA linen cloth?”
    Charlotte nodded. “You will see. Messy.”
    â€œAh.”
    Happily for all concerned, the subject was dropped in favor of a debate on the relative merits of Belgian versus Irish lace, a discussion that ended abruptly when