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Eloise Bridgerton couldn't say she knew Lucy Granville. She knew of Lucy Granville, because she and her husband were members of the Ton. But Lucy was married before Eloise debuted in society. As Cressida and her had once discussed, debutantes weren’t truly encouraged to form friendships with other women. Nor were spinsters, as she was learning. The divide between herself and her siblings and friends seeming to grow wider as time passed.
It was ridiculous, really, she was an adult. Seeing her best friend or hanging out with her siblings should have been simpler, if anything, once she was on the shelf. Should have made it easy to fall back on the type of conversations she’d once had with Pen, ones not revolving around spouses or marriage. Except even with Penelope there was a “married persons only” feeling that excluded her that was growing somewhat.
It started with a painting, actually. She wasn’t an artist, but something about the picture was bothering her. It was a wildlife painting of birds, and something kept drawing her back to it throughout the soiree.
“It’s the feet.”
Eloise turned, frowning. “I beg your pardon?”
“The feet on the bird. I swear whoever painted it has never seen a bird in their life.” Lucy Granville stopped beside her, gazing at the painting.
Now that she looked at it, the feet were wrong. Creepily long and stretched out - the length of both the legs and the talons themselves far too extended. “Oh, that’s what it is… now it bothers me even more.”
“Perhaps the artist has a fear of birds.”
“They do look creepier the longer you stare.”
Mrs Granville laughed at that, before asking, “Do you draw, Ms Bridgerton?”
“Me? No, no. That is most certainly not one of my talents.” Eloise was quick to disabuse her of the notion. “In fact, I don’t have much in the way of talents. But if I did, drawing would not be on the list.”
“I’d say observation is, though. You did notice something was wrong with the painting, after all.”
“How did you know I thought something was wrong with it? Maybe I really liked it.”
“You were frowning at it. More than once this evening, I noted.”
“You noticed me frowning at the painting more than once?”
“In truth, I came to frown at the painting myself a few times, and noticed you doing the same.”
Eloise couldn’t help but laugh at that. “Well, it’s nice to know we share the same distaste in paintings.”
“At least I can be assured that if I ever come to a soiree held by you, there will be no paintings of birds with elongated feet on your walls.” Mrs Granville offered the jest with a smirk.
Eloise forced a smile. “I won’t be having soirees of my own, as I am unmarried.”
“I rather thought with how wealthy your family was, they would place you in charge of a residence of your own in your spinsterhood. Have you chosen a sibling to stay with instead? I hear you and Mrs Penelope Bridgerton have been friends since childhood, so perhaps she offered you a place in her and your brother’s household?”
Eloise stared for a moment, taken back by many things in that statement, but most of all that somebody - anyone, really - was accepting her as a spinster and willing to discuss the details pertaining to it. After having her decision to be on the shelf all but scoffed at by everyone else, it left her floundering for a reply.
“I… well… no, Pen hasn’t offered me a place in her household.” Come to think of it, that sort of hurt. Her best friend had been just as quick to dismiss her claim to spinsterhood as her mother, and certainly hadn’t suggested she could have a place in her household. Something very much possible. Spinsters could have a place in any relative’s house, after all. Suddenly realizing what she said could be taken as a slight against Penelope, she hastily added, “I’m sure she assumed my place would remain in the main household. And since Anthony and Kate are still away, we couldn’t possibly hold any discussions about our properties and if it would be suitable for me to be placed in one.”
“I see… Well, your family is known for its closeness. I myself would be chomping at the bit for my own place in your shoes.”
“Well, I don’t imagine anyone would actually come to my soirees, anyway. If I had a place of my own and held gatherings, they would all be about poetry, and books, and lectures on… birds’ feet.” She brought it back to the painting, trying to pass it off as a joke even as the idea of it sounded better and better to her.
“I think it sounds like a delightful soiree. You could count on my attendance should it happen.”
“I could? I mean, thank-you, that’s kind of you to say.”
“A good evening to you, Ms Bridgerton.”
“To you as well, Mrs Granville.”
A household of her own. Soirees dedicated to books and poetry and lectures on travel and history… It wasn’t unheard of completely, spinsters from wealthy families having their own homes. Holding small gatherings to upkeep their place in society. Obviously nothing as grand as a ball, unless they were the sole holders of their family’s estates, but…
A place of her own. The chance to try and encourage young ladies to learn about subjects beyond table settings and stitching…
She didn’t bring it up to her mother, that was out of the question. She’d instead slipped it into a conversation with Penelope. “Do you suppose, if I remain unwed, Anthony might let me have a flat? Like old Ms Brewell?”
“Ms Brewell is sixty.” Penelope had reminded her.
“Yes, but how old do you suppose she was when her brother got her that flat?”
“I have no idea, El. I just… don’t think it’s something you should worry about just yet.”
Because she wasn’t a spinster. She wasn’t on the shelf. She almost wanted to say that Lucy Granville was perfectly willing to accept her as a spinster, but shoved the uncharitable thought down. Penelope only wanted what was best for her. She was just every bit as romantic as Eloise’s mother and so thought for certain someone would come along and sweep El off her feet.
She thought about Theo, and the almost-kiss, and she thought about telling Pen about it. About how it just… didn’t make her feel anyway at all despite the deep affection she held for him. Kate’s mother had married below her station. The possibility had been there, just… the farther away from it she got the more she realized she had cared for him deeply and missed their conversations terribly, but… there was no desire to marry him. To have him be her husband. Certainly not the burning need to marry her siblings had all seemed to have over their spouses. Or Pen over Colin.
She’d paid John to take her to the book shop. Alone. She was so terribly frustrated, and just wanted to be away from her siblings. Away from lessons about things she hadn't had the slightest interest in the first time, let alone the second. Maybe if she had a household she could talk to her married siblings about stupid spoons and that would… but if she wanted to talk about spoons she could do so with Hyacinth, and if she wanted to talk about weddings, any of the debutants would jump at the chance to describe their preplanned wedding. And didn’t the groom have a say in that? Should they really be planning it without even knowing the groom? And here she was thinking of weddings. Someone save her now.
“Ms Bridgerton, we meet again.”
“Mrs Granville, nice to see you.” She hastily greeted, surprised to have stumbled across her again so soon.
“Well, what is it you’re here looking for? A treatise on bird’s feet?”
Eloise laughed. “No, I was actually looking at fiction today.”
“Oh? What luck. I was looking for a copy of Don Quixote for a friend. We disagreed over the remembering of a scene, and I want to send it to him to prove I’m right.”
“I love Don Quixote.” She couldn’t help but light up at the subject. “You have to tell me what scene you disagreed over.”
Somewhere along the line they ended up walking along discussing books, and Don Quixote specifically.
“I do have to admit, I always felt for Camille, though, even if she was unfaithful. After all, she was faithful originally, it was Anselmo’s own jealousy and schemes that led to the affair between her and Lothario."
“Pardon?” Eloise gaped at her.
“Isn’t Camille the actual victim? Put in this situation by the men in her lives?”
“I… never did pay much attention to The Ill-Advised Curiosity. I was more interested in Don Quixote’s fights. But Camille, well… she was unfaithful.”
“Yes, but her husband asked his best friend to seduce her. So isn’t it all on Anselmo?”
Eloise thought back to her near-kiss with Theo. She’d pulled away easily enough.
“I don’t see how being seduced is so easy.”
“Was it so easy? She refused Lothario at first. It was when Anselmo didn’t return to defend her that she had the affair. Maybe she was just angry at him.”
“Weren’t there better ways to showcase that anger than, y’know… what she did.”
She understood to a certain extent what an affair meant. Marital relations. She knew it involved men and women being alone. Their bodies. But books were generally vague about these things. Saying someone was seduced, or gave into the man’s touch, but not explaining more. She felt like she was on the edge of something. Things that she shouldn’t really be talking about. That only married people talked about.
“... do you not know about…?”
She felt a surge of agitation. Right when she began to feel included, she was back to being on the outside again. “I’m a spinster.”
“Yes, but you have married sisters and friends.”
“They don’t talk about… certain things to me.”
“Ah, unmentionables… ridiculous, but typical of society to want women to lack knowledge.”
“... you would tell me about it?”
“Women younger than you are experiencing it, there’s no reason you should be in the dark. And, depending on your choices in your spinsterhood, it might be best to know more.”
“So-”
“Not here. Why don’t you call on me sometime during the week?”
“I will.”
“Good day to you, Ms Bridgerton.”
“You as well, Mrs Granville.”
She almost didn’t go.
She almost asked Penelope instead.
Then Penelope and Francesca cut off a conversation when she walked in the room, suggesting it was just about married things. And biscuits. She announced the next that day she was going to go call on someone out of sheer spite.
It started as a very normal type of visit. She was announced, Mrs Granville met her in the drawing room, and she was offered tea and refreshments. Then Mrs Granville tilted her head, and the servants withdrew from the room, closing the doors.
“So, I will ask you if you are certain you wish to have this conversation with me. If this is too uncomfortable, we can merely speak of books again.”
“...I want to know. I feel as though I am… missing something that the rest of the world understands.”
The other woman nodded. “What do you know? About what men and women do together. What actually happens in marital relations or affairs.”
“I know it involves men and women touching each other, and kissing, I suppose.”
“Well, the kissing isn’t really necessary, though it is rather pleasant.” Mrs Granville informed her. “What else? Have you ever seen a man naked?”
“I unfortunately have four brothers.”
“Not just shirtless. Have you seen a man’s prick?”
Eloise wrinkled her nose. “When he was still in diapers, Gregory once or twice escaped the nursemaid and ran naked down the hallway.”
Mrs Granville burst out laughing, and Eloise couldn’t help but join her. “Oh, my, that does seem to be a common theme of those with siblings I have this conversation with. So, you aren’t unaware of the difference between a man’s body and a woman’s body, then. That’s a good start, at least. The most basic version, for relations between a man and a woman, is that a man sticks his prick inside a woman where she gets her monthlies.”
Something about the way she said it felt odd. Mentioning it as relations between a man and a woman, as if that wasn’t a given. Then her brain ground to a halt as it processed the rest of the sentence. “He sticks it in her??”
“Yes. It is possible to use fingers and hands instead, and still find pleasure. Usually for men and women, however, they insert the prick. Especially if the goal is to make babies.”
“How is that pleasurable?” Eloise tried to wrap her mind around the idea that someone shoving something up inside her was supposed to feel good.
“It can be pleasurable, if done correctly. It’s also true that many men don’t bother with the woman's pleasure, only their own. Their goal is to get their spend in the woman to get her pregnant, nothing more.”
Eloise grimaced. This whole thing sounded horrible so far. “Their spend?”
“It’s what comes from a man’s prick during sex when he reaches a pinnacle. It’s what can get a woman pregnant. If he doesn’t spend inside of her, she won’t get pregnant.”
“Wait, there's a way to do this without getting pregnant? Then how-”
Mrs Granville held up a hand. “There are various ways, yes, but they aren’t commonly taught, and mistakes happen. Frankly, most couples just like it this way the best, and the goal of marriage is usually children, so they don’t worry about it.”
“But this is done outside of marriage, too.” She thought of Marina, pregnant outside of marriage and how it had so deeply affected her life.
“If they're smart, they take precautions. Or use their hands or mouth instead.”
“Mouths?? Down there?” Eloise couldn't help the disgust that colored her words.
“Preferably soon after washing, but that is a way to have pleasure without pregnancy.”
“None of this sounds very pleasurable.”
“Words don’t tend to do it much justice. If those involved are any good at the act, or care about each other’s pleasure, there is much more kissing and touching involved. One shouldn’t underestimate foreplay. All of this is much easier if one party is experienced, though that tends to acquire them a reputation.”
“Wait, my brothers - their reputations. Just how many women…?”
“Best not to speculate.”
“My brothers are disgusting.” Eloise scowled.
“No more than the women they slept with. Honestly, it’s a natural act. Instinctive even. One women crave just as much as men. The treatment of the two for seeking it, however, is opposite. Women who sleep outside of marriage are shamed if known, men are praised by their peers.”
“So it’s yet another thing men are permitted to do that women aren’t, or are punished for if they do?”
“If they’re caught.” Lucy corrects her. “Discretion is possible. Hence why I said you should know, so you could make choices.”
Eloise stared at her. “You… you suggest that I could have relations without marriage, provided nobody knows.”
“I want you to know that it’s a possibility, yes.”
She had, in one way known. Known that her brother had relations with certain women, even if the details escaped her. Knew a woman of the Ton could be ruined if she was alone with a man because… well, apparently because they thought chances were high the man had stuck his prick in her during the interlude. Really, how long did this act take? Surely they actually couldn’t have done it if the time was short enough… right?
And the whole thing only made marriage that much more unappealing if she was expected to participate in such acts.
“I don't think I will be doing that.”
Mrs Granville was watching her closely. “Have you ever felt attraction towards a man?”
Her thoughts inevitably turned towards Theo. “I thought I did once…”
“Once?”
“I mean, I felt a deep affection for him, but-”
“Affection and attraction aren't the same thing. It is possible to experience one without the other.”
“I don't understand.” She admitted, frustrated that she had some answers and yet things still seemed to allude her.
“Have you ever looked at a man and felt warm?”
“Warm?”
“Yes, has your body felt heated? In your groin particularly. Perhaps accompanied by a fluttering or tingling sensation?”
Everything about the statement sounded utterly foreign. “No?”
“Not even watching the ballerinas at the queen's ball last season?”
“No...”
“Nor have you felt it towards a woman?”
Eloise stared, mind ground to a halt again. “Why… why would…?”
“There are those that do.”
“But I… I’ve never seen two men or two women court.”
“Of course not, they dare not display their relationships in such a fashion. It could mean their ruin. Even their death.”
“Their death? For no other reason than having relations?”
“Society does not like those who break its molds. As you are well aware.”
“I… I honestly haven't felt what you described when looking at women either.”
“I referred to your refusal to marry. Still, you are certain you have never felt attraction to men or women?”
“No. But… I mean, you can't feel attracted to everyone, right? I mean, if everyone felt that about the ballerinas at the Queen’s…” She trailed off as the dots finally connected. “Did everyone feel that way? Is that why the man was mostly unattired??”
“I would imagine most of the people were feeling heated from the display, yes. It was likely the Queen’s intention as well, to inspire potential matches to act.”
“Oh. Oh…” Eloise buried her face in her hands as what she knew about the world reshaped itself. “What the… is everyone just going around thinking about pricks and putting them into things all the time??”
“Not all the time, or we’d never get anything done. But much more of the time than is mentioned by polite society.”
“That is so… ugh… I’m never going to be able to look my family in the face again!”
Mrs Granville laughed at the outburst. “That could be a problem. Maybe give yourself a couple hours to come to terms with it before returning home.”
Eloise groaned, but after a moment she lowered her hands from her face. “I… why do I not…?”
The other woman grew more serious. “I’ve heard, well, insults more than anything. Often thrown at Spinsters, or disliked wives. I imagine, though, it's much like those who prefer to have relations among the same gender - it's not as common and yet another thing that's unmentionable, but it exists. You exist, and while you are a unique person, I do not believe this is something unique to you.”
Her mind, ever churning, found a new angle to consider within moments. “But doesn't that also mean that a bunch of people are having… relations they don't want to? Because we're told we have to?“
“Yes, I’m afraid it does.”
“...There is so very much wrong with our society.”
“There is.” Mrs Granville agreed without hesitation. “I have found it easier to find loopholes while working inside its boundaries. Your refusal to give into it is quite courageous.”
“I’m not sure many would agree with that assessment. They’re more likely to say that I am being unreasonable.”
“Good. Continue to be so.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Be selfish, Eloise Bridgerton. Be selfish for all of those of us who could not be. For all those who still cannot be. Be loud for those who have had their tongues silenced. If someone is offended because you spoke the truth, let them be offended. Wield your selfishness like a blade for as long as you are able. And when the time comes for you to lay it down to rest, then do so knowing you have already done more than most just by speaking up in the first place.”
The words made her feel as if a burden was lifted. As if she could breathe a little bit easier.
There were people and moments in time she could remember feeling supported or understood somewhat.
With Penelope
With Benedict.
With Theo
With Cressida.
But this was more than that. This wasn't simply, ‘I understand.’
This was encouragement. This was, ‘Keep going.’
It was something, she realized, she had needed to hear for a long time.
“Thank-you, Mrs Granville.”
“Lucy, if you like.”
“Then you must call me Eloise.”
“Very well, Eloise. If you have any more questions about unmentionables, my door is open to you.”
“I probably will have quite a few once I finish wrapping my head around what I’ve learned today.” She confessed
“I shall look forward to your visits, then.”
She sounded sincere, and Eloise realized she, too, looked forward to her future visits.