Alicia Page 6
Alicia regarded her daughter thoughtfully. “Oh, lamb, it is so difficult to explain.”
“But I must know,” Felicia responded stubbornly.
“Yes, I feel you must. I have explained to you about your courses and what they signify. You have seen animals mate on the estate. Do you understand that this is how children are produced? That men and women mate in somewhat the same way?”
Felicia dropped her eyes to her hands and whispered, “I had not thought about it.”
“No, when one is young and shielded from certain realities, one does not. When a man and a woman wed they mate so as to have offspring. My mother did not speak to me of this, and I had not thought much on it either. All children are conceived by mating, my dear. It is a fact of life. A woman may at any time conceive a child through bedding with a man. Men sometimes conceive a...desire to bed a woman. I am not sure if this happens with women also; I have not experienced such a desire. That does not mean that it does not exist, though.”
“Are you trying to tell me that Mr. Tackar has conceived such a desire for you?” Felicia asked incredulously.
Alicia choked back the laugh that bubbled up in her, an almost hysterical laugh. “Yes, my love, that is what I am trying to tell you.”
“But you are not wed to him!”
“Well, you see, that does not preclude such a desire developing. An honorable man would not pursue an honest woman in such a situation. Mr. Tackar is not an honorable man.”
“Does he not wish to wed you?”
“No, he wishes only to bed me. And he has offered me insulting inducements to effect just that. I have, of course, refused him, but he is not willing to accept my rejection.” Alicia passed a weary hand through her auburn curls. “I had hoped that our presence here would not become known to him. I have no doubt that that odious Mr. Parker could not wait to blab it about. He insinuated, in my hearing, that there was some sort of illicit arrangement between Mr. Tackar and myself.”
“No wonder you slapped him!” Felicia exclaimed. “How could anyone believe such a thing?”
“There are some women, my dear, who out of a financial need, or perhaps a desire,” Alicia shook her head wonderingly, “or it might simply be out of a weak moral character, do just that. I should think for the most part that young maidens do so out of ignorance, and with their ruin have nowhere else to turn. There have been fatherless children born at the Grange and I have done what I could for their mothers and themselves, often enduring the censure of the vicar and the village. It is why young women of your station are so carefully chaperoned.”
“What will Mr. Tackar do?” Felicia asked anxiously.
“I do not know. Perhaps he will leave me alone, perhaps he will persist. I am sorry I had to tell you this,” Alicia admitted sadly, her eyes on Felicia’s drawn face. “But he is an unprincipled man and if he should... Men have been known to force their attentions on women, who are weaker physically. I have told your uncle of Mr. Tackar’s suggestions and made him promise that he would take no action. You know that you can always go to your uncle, do you not, Felicia?”
The girl was sobbing now, her head buried in a pillow on the bed. “Do not speak so, Mama, I beg you,” her muffled voice came. Alicia sat on the bed beside her and stroked the glowing hair, whispering comforting words.
“Do not weep, my poppet. Mr. Tackar is unlikely to take any drastic measure, I assure you. But we are alone, you and I, and unprotected, so you must be made aware of the dangers. Avoid him. It is unfortunate that he knows where I am, but what is done is done. We live in a civilized time and nothing is like to happen to me. Dry your tears. I shall help you with the hats.”
* * * *
Morning brought a sparkling fall day, but Alicia’s face was drawn and her daughter looked peaked. There was an unspoken agreement to discuss Mr. Tackar no more. “Come with me to the shop today,” Alicia offered. “You shall choose some material for a new gown.”
Felicia pretended to enter into the project with enthusiasm, but her heart was heavy. Her mother had burdens enough without the added one of Mr. Tackar. She blushed at the remembrance of her mother’s explanation of mating. If one had to do that when they were wed, she wondered that so many people married! Still, since almost everyone did, perhaps it was not that bad after all.
Felicia had never seen a naked man and her face prickled with heat at the thought of it. She had not, in fact, paid a great deal of attention to her own body, though it had held a certain fascination as her breasts had developed. She had been cautioned by nurse and governess to keep herself well covered at all times. It occurred to her that she had never seen anyone else naked. Not even her mother. It must be frightfully embarrassing to be naked before someone else, especially a man.
Felicia chose a deep green crepe, explaining to her mother that she would be able to embroider flowers on it when their mourning period was over, and in the meantime could have a little cream-colored lace at the wrists and neck. She sorted through the vast array of laces before deciding on just the right one for the dress she had in mind. When she had collected everything she needed and was about to depart, Alicia said, “Do not coop yourself up in the inn all day. Mr. Harper has assured me that there is almost always a horse available for you. I should not like for you to miss such a glorious day for a ride.”
“Perhaps after luncheon, Mama. I am anxious to be started with the dress. Shall I see you for your meal?”
“Yes, dear. Enjoy your morning.”
Felicia wandered out into the sunlight, her parcel under her arm. The leaves on the trees were turning colors now and there was the smell of wood smoke on the air. She breathed deeply and reveled in the crispness brought into her. Autumn and spring were seasons full of anticipation, of promises of things to come. Felicia felt an eagerness within her which made her eyes sparkle and her lips draw into a merry smile. A young man passing by doffed his hat at sight of such an enchanting creature. Felicia smiled shyly at him and went on her way to the inn.
Before ascending to her room, she asked the round, bustling Mrs. Harper if Mr. Tackar had left yet and was told that he had. In her relief she danced up the stairs and into the room where she flung the parcel on the bed. She then hesitated momentarily before returning to the door and barring it. Felicia placed herself before the large rectangular horse glass on its trestle feet which could be tilted to any angle. She studied her reflection, starting with her hair and face, and allowing her eyes to descend to her shoulders, breasts, waist, hips, and feet. With an embarrassed toss of her head she began to disrobe in front of the glass. First the long, tight, pleated bodice, with its large fichu, and long sleeves ending at ruching at the wrist; then the full skirt with ruching at the hem. She intended to make her new dress in the one-piece style. Her chemise, gathered at the neck with a drawstring, and her petticoat were discarded in a heap at her feet. Finally her black tights were removed and she stood before the glass naked.
She closed her eyes for a moment, hesitating, before she opened them wide and surveyed her body minutely. Her collarbones were prominent and her shoulders slight. Her arms were thin and sparsely freckled, ending in narrow, shapely hands. She was most interested, however, in her breasts, which swelled out gracefully and ended in the buttons of her nipples. The waist was narrow and the legs long and sturdy, with well-turned ankles and shapely feet. Felicia’s eyes ascended again to the curled auburn hair at the beginning of her legs. She felt a flush spread over her cheeks and refused to meet her own eyes in the glass.
Tentatively she reached one hand up to touch the swell of her breast, firm and soft at the same time. She touched a finger gently to the nipple and felt a strange sensation run through her body. Fascinated by the unusual feeling, she experimented further with her breasts, aware that an aching developed lower down in her body. She met her eyes in the glass; they were shining and rather moist. The blush had not altogether faded, but she was no longer concerned with it. Her breathing was coming more rapidly now, and it
frightened her a little, but she felt elated somehow and did not wish to don her clothing until she had satisfied her curiosity.
Instead she laid down on the bed until her breathing became a bit calmer, though she retained a feeling of urgency. Cautiously she rubbed her breasts again and then moved one hand to the site of the aching between her legs. The motion of her fingers there intensified the aching until it reached such a pitch that she could no longer choose to continue, she had to. And then her body acted on its own, rhythmically lifting and gripping, as she moaned. Amazing how light and beautiful she felt.
She lay on the bed for some time experiencing the unique sense of release. Then she rose and walked in her nudity to the basin on the stand. It was while she washed her hands that the shame stole over her. One was not supposed to touch one’s body. Felicia wondered rebelliously why not, when one’s body could provide such exquisite pleasure. She began to gather up her clothes and redress herself carefully. It was some time before the thought occurred to her. Like a stallion with a mare, that was where a man with a woman... But then would not the woman receive such pleasure with a man? It was difficult, and Felicia eventually gave up the distressing effort, to visualize a man with her mother. It was unthinkable! It was no less unthinkable to visualize a man with herself. Her body was private, a special thing of her own. There was no man she would think of allowing to touch it!
But children were born every day. Then every day men were touching women. Men like Mr. Tackar with his insolent gaze resting on her mother’s fully clothed body. Felicia’s skin crawled at the thought of such a man touching her body. Even Mr. Harper, the landlord, pleasant as he was; it would be disgusting. She found, though, that if she wove a cozy fantasy about the young man she had passed in the street on her way back to the inn that she could almost imagine it. Not quite, of course, but almost. Someone you cared about, and who knew your dreams and you knew theirs. Almost then she could picture allowing him to touch her breasts, with her clothes on, of course. She saw herself in a sunny dale, lying amidst the violets...
“Felicia, are you all right?” Her mother’s voice came through the door.
“Yes, Mama,” Felicia answered absently.
“You might let me in then,” Alicia suggested with some asperity.
Felicia sprang to the door and unbarred it hurriedly. Her face was stained with a ridiculous blush, and her mother surveyed her anxiously as she entered the room. “Are you sure you are feeling quite the thing?”
“Oh, yes, Mama. I …I was just sitting thinking.”
“Are you ready for something to eat?”
“Yes. Well, no, not just yet, Mama. I …I should like to talk to you for a moment.”
Alicia seated herself with relief and drew off her gloves. She waited patiently for Felicia to speak, but the girl merely studied the closed door. “Has something happened? You did not see Mr. Tackar, did you?”
“No, no. Mrs. Harper says he has left. I felt relieved.”
Alicia sighed. “Yes, that is good news. Now it seems so silly to have burdened you with my problems.”
“You had to, Mama. I had to know.” Felicia stopped speaking again and tried to meet her mother’s eyes but could not. She unwrapped her parcel and gently stroked the material.
“Something is the matter. Can you not tell me?” Alicia asked softly.
“I...thought about what you explained to me last night.”
“About men and women? Did that distress you?”
“It was strange to think of, but it interested me,” Felicia admitted.
“I see.”
“Well, when I left the shop this morning it was so beautiful and I felt very happy. And then I thought about it some more.”
“And...”
“When I got here I barred the door,” Felicia said with a heightening of her blush, “and I took off my clothes in front of the glass, and I...touched myself.”
Alicia regarded the bent head affectionately, a tiny smile on her lips. “And did you feel anything?”
“Everything,” Felicia responded simply.
Alicia gave a gurgle of laughter and her daughter raised surprised eyes to her face. “Had you never done so before?”
“Oh, no. I had never thought to do so,” Felicia answered, eyeing her mother warily.
“Obviously I have been remiss in your education,” her mother replied, unable now to contain her mirth.
“But, Mama, is it not wrong?” Felicia asked incredulously.
“So they say,” Alicia admitted between gulps of laughter, “but I have always found it immensely comforting.”
Felicia ran to her mother and hugged her as the two women enjoyed their laughter, Felicia’s of relief, her mother’s of genuine amusement. Eventually Felicia drew a little away, a frown gathered on her forehead. “And does that not happen with a man?”
“It should, I suppose,” Alicia admitted. “But I have not experienced it. Perhaps you will. Perhaps you will have a kind husband who will be gentle and understanding. Certainly I hope you will have a fond regard for him, and that should make you at ease. But you see, my dear, we are all reared to think of our bodies as very private, to be hidden and ignored. I remember not understanding what my mother was talking about when she spoke of her duty as a wife. She sent me into marriage unprepared. It might have been different otherwise; I cannot know.”
Felicia received a good deal more information from this speech than her mother would have liked her to. Alicia had been hesitant always to speak with her daughter about such matters, for she felt wholly negative on the subject and did not wish to taint her daughter with her own judgments. Lord, what a job was raising a daughter when one had to hide so much. The previous evening Alicia had had to mind her tongue carefully so that she would not let slip that Mr. Tackar had killed her husband in a duel. There was little she could say about these intimate matters between men and women which would not reflect her own sorrows.
“Mama, what I did this morning ... it is what the vicar calls self-abuse, is it not?”
“Yes, dear, but then I should not let that bother me overmuch. The vicar has disagreeable names for almost everything, and is a most un-Christian sort of person to boot. I can see no harm in it, but you shall have to decide for yourself. I forget sometimes that you are nearly grown up now. In another two years you will be thinking of marriage yourself. Pooh! This is altogether too serious a discussion for such a beautiful day. Shall we have luncheon and ride together for an hour? We can talk more then if you would like to.”
Chapter Six
After luncheon Felicia proudly presented to her mother the little mare she had ridden the previous day, but Alicia insisted on choosing a different hack. She was an experienced horsewoman and chose a spirited mount while the ostler eyed her skeptically. “I promise not to bring him to grief,” she assured Hodges as she brought the horse’s frisking under control.
They rode north this time through a stretch of forest and on past the hedgerows and fields. The lane was empty and they determined to race to the copse ahead. For all the little mare’s endeavor Felicia was not able to win, but she had rosy cheeks and sparkling eyes from the ride. “Lord, how I have missed that,” Alicia sighed.
“Lady Gorham urged you to make free with her stable, Mama. Why didn’t you?”
“Because she does not like to ride and I wished to spend my time with her. I do enjoy her company and these last weeks I knew we would be leaving soon. She has promised to visit us, you know, but I rather hope she will think better of it. Not that I should not love to see her and Cassandra, but I should hate to be an embarrassment to them.”
“You could never be that, Mama. I cannot believe Lady Gorham has a stuffy bone in her body!”
“Perhaps not. In any case, it is lovely to have a gallop again. I should not be gone too long, though, for poor Mr. Allerton must bear the load alone.” Alicia directed her horse back to Tetterton and asked over her shoulder, “Did you wish to speak further of what we discusse
d?”
“There was just one thing. Do other women touch themselves?”
“Truly, Felicia, I could not say. It is not the sort of thing one discusses over tea.” The very thought of it sent them both into whoops, and that is how the Stronbert Court party found them when they entered the lane from Mr. Tooker’s farm.
Lord Stronbert had his son and daughter with him for the call he had paid on an elderly former tenant. The sound of laughter made him turn his head just as the Coombs ladies rounded the bend behind them.
“Look, Papa, it is Lady Coombs and her daughter. Shall we wait for them?” Miss Helen asked.
“Certainly,” he replied easily as he watched Lady Coombs acknowledge their presence and attempt to stifle her mirth. Her daughter was not so successful and was still chuckling when the two parties joined.
Alicia, a smile lurking at the corners of her mouth, spoke first, “Good day, Lord Stronbert, Miss Helen, Master Matthew. I do not believe you have met my daughter, Felicia. Felicia, Lord Stronbert. You will remember his mother, the dowager marchioness.”
Felicia, who very nearly had her laughter under control, dropped her eyes at this mischievous gambit of her mother’s and was barely able to utter a greeting.
“Unfair, Lady Coombs,” Stronbert retorted. “We are indebted to you, Miss Coombs, for Helen’s enchanting bonnet. You may have noticed that she is unable to part with it.”
Miss Helen was indeed wearing the bonnet, the ribbon beneath her chin tied jauntily under her right ear. “And she has already made an improvement in it,” Felicia said with a grin.
“I knew you would think so,” Miss Helen said proudly. “Grandmother was fit to be tied when she saw what I had done, but I like it.”
“Such language, young lady,” Stronbert cautioned his offspring with a mild but meaningful glance. He turned then to Alicia, as carelessly graceful on horseback as on foot. “You are headed back to town?”
“Yes, I have deserted my post for far too long, but I could not resist a ride on such a day.”