Free Truth Within Dreams by Elizabeth Boyce

“No more bed! I spent most of yesterday in it, and slept every bit of twelve hours last night, thanks to Mr. Whombleby’s dreadful laudanum.”
    And what a strange night it had been, riddled with wild dreams that left her lethargic. They’d all felt so real, hallucinations, she supposed, caused by the opium. A parade of visitors had tromped through her room, from a child made of marmalade to Henry.
    There was no explaining the marmalade dream, but her Henry hallucination must have been brought on by thinking of him so much. She still couldn’t stop puzzling over his behavior on the balcony yesterday, his apologies and sadness.
    “May I ask you something?” she said before she could think better of her course.
    “Certainly.” Claude had resumed his inspection of tenant farm reports, but glanced up at her. “What is it?”
    “Men enjoy the company of women, don’t they? Intimately, I mean.”
    Her brother winced. “No, we are not talking about this. Go ask Mother.”
    “It’s just,” she pressed, her fingers knotted at her waist, “I wonder …” She tripped over her words, fumbling for a way around to her real question. “…
if
they do, why some men, like Sir Saint, wait so long for marriage.”
    A laugh burst from his throat. “Are you asking if Sir Saint Tuggle is a virgin? Whether he will come to your marriage bed pure and unsullied?”
    She nodded.
    Claude smirked. “It’s different for men, Claude. We aren’t held to the same standards as ladies. Unless he’s the saint his mother hoped him to be—and I assure you, that is not the case—then I don’t see how he could possibly be … you know.”
    When she didn’t say anything, he returned to his work.
    Claudia crossed an arm over her middle, rested her other elbow on it, and tapped her chin. “So, are you telling me that you—”
    “
Argh
! Stop it! No more!”
    “But what about Henry?” she demanded. She had to get the answer out of her brother before he ran her off. “Do you think he’s untouched? Before the other night?”
    He clapped his hands over his ears. “For the love of God, Claudia! You couldn’t find an able-bodied man over the age of eighteen who is not experienced. Does that satisfy you? Christ, woman! Go away and let me work in peace.”
    “Mercy, you needn’t get so ruffled. We’ve always been able to talk about anything.”
    “Not this!”
    Claudia huffed.
    There was a knock. The twins both looked as the door opened.
    Henry paused in the entry. “Greetings, Baxters.”
    Butterflies buffeted Claudia’s stomach. Ever since The Plan, she couldn’t put Henry back in the proper compartment of her mind. Years ago, she’d trained herself to regard him as no more than a friend, but the last thirty-six hours had thrown her mind into total disarray. Once again, Henry was the hero of her romantic fantasies. She’d woken to his kisses yesterday, and dreamed of kissing him again last night.
    He was so handsome it made her teeth ache. Today, he wore a dark blue coat, which made his hair look like antique gold. His linen was crisp and white at his throat. Nankeen breeches clung to thighs heavily muscled by years of avid horsemanship. Even his calves looked powerful, encased in brown riding boots. Goodness, but he was delectable.
    “You’re dressed to ride,” Claude observed. “Thank God. You’ve arrived not a moment too soon.” He cut a meaningful look at his sister. “Give me a moment to put these things away and we’ll be off.”
    “Actually, Claude, I hoped I might persuade Miss Baxter to accompany me.”
    Yesterday’s grim demeanor remained in the past, Claudia was pleased to note. Henry held himself straight and tall, one hand behind his back, the other resting on his thigh. The perfect sporting gentleman.
    When his gaze came to rest on her, however, Claudia recoiled. There was something wrong with his eyes. An unfathomable emotion. Or rather, a lack of one. Henry could never hide anything from her. She’d