It was to be a week of confronting her past mistakes, Claire mused bitterly as she stood outside the door of the guestroom her former friend occupied in the Rothburies' manor in Hertfordshire. A woman who now more than likely would refuse to see her. Claire was more likely to have the door slammed in her face than to receive actual help, she was aware of that, but desperate times called for desperate measures.

Now that Claire had started to look back on her behavior with clearer eyes, less colored by her own biased lens, she saw that James was not the only relationship she had compromised due to her pride and her envy. There were many others, some significant, some less so. Just like the woman on the other side of this door.

Claire's breath rushed out in relief when the door cracked open by a measure and she saw the familiar face of Lady Whittaker, or Daphne to her friends- which Claire was sure she was decidedly not. Her thick raven black hair was bound in a thick, tight rope, falling over her shoulder and she was clad in a robe indicating that she was already prepared for bed. In her wish to be discreet, perhaps Claire had waited for too late an hour.

Claire could not help but feel a sense of foreboding as the curious look in Daphne's eyes was replaced by utter distaste as recognition dawned on her.

"You," she hissed, her face curling to a sneer.

"Yes," Claire swallowed the lump in her throat. "Me. I have brought some tea. For you."

"How unfortunate. I had hoped that you were out for a rendezvous and simply came to the wrong room, but knowing you, hell would likely freeze over before you allowed yourself to be anything but miserable, so I assume you're in the right place."

Claire bit back a condescending retort in her own defense, asking why the Rothburies would invite a woman of Lady Whittaker's reputation to a respectable gathering.

It would have been vindictive, mean, and entirely unproductive. Besides, it was not as if Claire had had a leg to stand on- she had been the one to place this animosity between them. In addition, Claire knew that Daphne had become very close with Lady Needham- their host's sister and the last thing she wished was for them to think lowly of her.

No matter that she deserved it.

Many, many years ago Claire and Daphne had been rather close friends. Daphne was a few years younger than Claire, at two and thirty, but their stories had been remarkably similar.

Daphne too had been forced into a union with a man many years her senior, thrust from a small village into the shark-infested waters of London. She'd shared Claire's struggle to conceive, she had shared Claire's struggles with loneliness and so Claire had taken her under her wing, a kindred spirit. They'd exchanged letters regularly when Daphne's husband had moved them across the Channel to Paris, and Daphne had even come to visit Claire several times over the years.

And then Daphne had become widowed, and everything had changed.

Unlike Northhaven, Lord Whittaker had left his wife with more money than even the most extravagant woman could spend in a lifetime. Daphne had embraced her newfound freedom with both hands, attending parties, taking lovers, and traveling wherever she wished. Daphne had fun. Daphne was the center of attention wherever she went, charming men and women alike with her humor, wit, and cheery disposition.

In short, she was everything Claire was not.

Daphne had come back to England after observing her mourning period and immediately tried to get Claire to join her in her adventures, Northhaven had already been permanently residing with Anette by that point and Daphne tried to show her that she needn't be stuck at home all day. Daphne had invited her for a Grand Tour of Europe, even offering to pay for Claire's excursion but Claire had refused to go. The fact that Daphne intended for her lover to join them was just a convenient excuse, Claire knew that now, but she had spun it into a much bigger deal than it needed to be, which had devolved into a large fight.

After that, Claire had given Daphne the cut direct at a ball and the two women had never spoken again.

At the time, Claire had justified herself pulling away from their friendship because she did not wish to be associated with a woman whose respectability was somewhat questionable, but if she were truthful with herself, it had been envy for the most part. Daphne had cast of the very chains that dragged Claire down to the depths of her misery as if they weighed nothing at all. And she had thrived without them.

"I wanted to speak with you," Claire settled on, finally.

"You can go to the devil, Lady Northhaven," Daphne hissed and made to close the door. Claire shot a hand out in desperation.

"Please," she beseeched. "I don't have anyone else to ask."

And that was the truth. Even if Daphne hated her, she would be discreet, she would not gossip about Claire's predicament.

Daphne stared at her for a few long seconds before throwing the door open with an irritated grunt. Claire stood there frozen in surprise, she had been convinced that Daphne would have been far more difficult to convince- for all her many good qualities, Daphne could hold a grudge longer than Zeus.

"Oh for the love of God, will you come in before someone sees you and thinks that I have the poor taste to take you as a lover?"

Claire could not help the scandalized gasp that left her as she hurried inside.

"You can do that?" Which earned her an annoyed roll of the eyes. "Really?"

"Don't have a swooning fit here, Claire, I will just leave you lying prone on the floor."

"Have you done that?" Claire blurted in shock, still unable to wrap her head around it. How would the mechanics of that even work?! There was nothing to insert!

"You know I believe in trying everything at least once," she said with a wave of her hand as she flounced into a chair by the fire, indicating that Claire should join her. "Oh God's sake, Claire get your jaw off the floor."

"How-how did you like it?"

"It was.....not for me, I suppose. Unfortunately, it appears that nothing is as good for me as the feel of a man inside me. One particular man, these days, if you can believe it! It is because of that very reason that I am in the predicament that I am in," this she said with a scowl, as if she would like to murder the man in question.

Claire felt her face go hot at such a frank discussion. But wasn't that exactly why she had approached Daphne? So that she could be frank without worrying about offense?

"I see. How interesting," Claire managed diplomatically, her head still trying to digest this new information.

"Is it, Claire? Is that why you're here?" Daphne's smile turned wolfish. "Shall I introduce you to some ladies who would be willing to expand your horizons?"

"That's not why I came!" Claire cried out in mortification. "I don't-! I haven't ever-! Oh, you're funning me."

"Yes," Daphne agreed with a smug smile. "You must let me have my small retributions, Claire, or I might not be very inclined to help you with whoever it is you want to seduce."

"How could you possibly know-"

"Please Claire, I am not an imbecile," Daphne rolled her eyes again. "I know you aren't here to make amends out of the goodness of your heart. You want something, I'm the only one other than your stepmother who wouldn't tattle the moment you confided in me. You can't exactly ask Helen, can you now, because all her knowledge would come from your father."

Claire and Daphne both shuddered at the thought.

"So, who better than your acquaintance of rather loose morals to guide you?"

"....I didn't mean to come across as using you," Claire said quietly. "I just did not know who else to ask. When I learned that you were here, you were the logical choice. I cannot afford another misstep, I have made too many already."

"Oh stop looking like a kicked puppy, I can't stand it," Daphne snapped, moodily pouring herself a cup of the tea that Claire had brought. She didn't offer Claire any. "What is it that you want?"

"I want you to tell me how to be more active during....intercourse," she bit out that last word through her mortification. "My husband and I seldom ever coupled. All of those times I just...."

"Lay there and wished for it to be over?" Daphne supplied helpfully. "Yes, I can't imagine either you or Northhaven being particularly creative."

"Precisely."

"Well, I could certainly tell you, but these things are better done in practice than in theory. I'll introduce you to some gentlemen of my acquaintance-"

"No! I only want the one man."

"Are you absolutely sure? Because if Carlisle is here, that man will take good care of you."

"He isn't-"

"Pity, perhaps a roll in the hay with another man is just what I need. Carlisle; now that's a man with talent. Claire, when I tell you that man can go for hours on end, it is not hyperbole."

"-And besides, I do believe he is rather besotted with a woman of his acquaintance."

"Really?" Daphne straightened up so fast, her drink came close to spilling over. "Carlisle? Now that is a twist, certainly."

"So, will you help me?"

"I have a stipulation."

"Anything."

"I want you to introduce me to the Marquess of Lindsey."

Claire sucked in a breath of surprise.

"W-why would you want that?"

"Rumor has it he's looking for his next Marchioness. Wasn't he sniffing around your sister? I find myself in the market for a husband, and I think he'll do nicely. Now, some women might find all that divorce business a deterrent, but when have I shied away from a bit of scandal? What do you say, will you help?"

Claire looked at her in horror. She wanted James? She was younger than Claire, her hair thick, long, and raven black whereas Claire's own was an uninspiring mousy brown. She had a lovely, luscious figure that men always admired whereas Claire's own was slender without any curves to speak of-

No.

She was done with seeing herself as inferior. She was done being her own enemy. She was worthy of admiration, she was attractive, she was also good-looking.

"Why are you in the market for a husband? I thought that you enjoyed your freedoms as a widow," Claire hedged, feeling queasy.

"Let's just say it has become imminently important that I get married. Within the next seven months and two weeks," Daphne said meaningfully. Claire blinked uncomprehendingly before it finally clicked.

"You're pregnant?"

"Keep your damned voice down! Might as well have the majordomo announce it at the ball tomorrow, why don't you?"

"Oh, Daphne, congratulations," Claire reached out and grasped her hand, Daphne squeezed it tightly. "But who is the father? He has refused to marry you?"

"Oh, I told him I wouldn't marry him if he was the last man on earth!" She set her cup down with a hard clink and rose out of her seat to begin pacing. "That arrogant, insufferable, prudish lout!"

"Daphne! You can't not marry the father of your own child!"

"I can and I will." A mulish glint entered Daphne's eyes. "I will make the best choice for my child, and he is not. That's why I must marry Lindsey. Or any titled man."

"Well bully for you, Daphne, you can't have James. He is mine. I love him and I won't let you have him," she snapped, now on her feet as well. Daphne blinked at her for a few moments before she groaned and buried her head in her hands.

"Well, that's dashed inconsiderate of you, Claire!" She mumbled. "I thought I had it all figured out! This is why I needled Ophelia into obtaining an invitation for me. And there you go, throwing a wrench in my carefully laid plans."

"We'll find you a husband!" Claire promised. "I know several gentlemen that would appreciate an introduction."

"No! They cannot be just any gentlemen. I want them to be titled. If they outrank Earls, even better."

Claire's jaw dropped as that last sentence gave away the identity of the child's father.

"Daphne. Please do not tell me you went and got yourself tangled with the Earl of Pembroke. After everything that happened between you two?! Why would you even give that man the time of day?!"

"It's none of your business, Claire," Daphne's expression grew shuttered and Claire knew that she was not getting anything more out of her friend. Best to let it drop for now, Pembroke was always a touchy subject where Daphne was concerned, their history convoluted enough to warrant an epic on its own. "Anyway, that is enough about me. You want to learn how to seduce a man? I'll teach you every trick in the damn book. You'll have Lindsey eating out of the palm of your hand by the end of this house party. I could use the distraction. Just be prepared, I shall likely ridicule you ruthlessly to make myself feel better."

Claire allowed her former friend to deflect the conversation, sensing that she was still feeling hurt over whatever had happened between her and the Earl of Pembroke.

"Thank you, Daphne," Claire reached for her hand again. "And if you shall permit me, I would very much like to make amends with you. I miss your friendship. I didn't realize how much until now."

"I'll think about it," Daphne replied gruffly, but Claire spied a hint of a smile on her face anyway.