wildflower chapter 3

On a day bathed in the warm spring sun, with a gentle breeze whispering through the air, Lilian de Vermore’s story was about to turn a new page. Ladies, with elegant gestures, lifted their teacups, engaging in polite conversation. It was then that the gossipy Lady Ashton opened the door to a rather scandalous topic. “Have you read Clarice’s new novel?” 

Lilian de Vermore, picking at a walnut tart beneath a large parasol, blushed. “Of course! It certainly didn’t disappoint.” 

A garden party, hosted by the Duke of Headington for the warm spring weather, was in full swing at the Palace of Baltan. Lilian, who had been listening indifferently to the slow tempo of the orchestra, perked up her ears. 

“The way she compares love to livestock…it’s, well…a blatant expression we haven’t seen from those pretentious, virtuous authors.” 

She was referring to a passage in Clarice’s new novel, Love Covered in Filth, where love was compared to a pig. “That part was…quite…memorable for me as well,” 

Baroness Versy agreed with an impassive face. Her husband, Baron Versy, had been the subject of much gossip since their marriage due to his considerable weight gain. Rumors of a strained relationship followed close behind. 

“But there were some disappointing parts, too.” Lady Ashton’s eyes narrowed as she recalled the book’s contents. The other ladies’ eyes gleamed in anticipation. “Never mind. As long as everyone else enjoyed it. Perhaps I was the only one who found the content a bit lacking.” Lady Ashton offered a thin smile and lifted her teacup again. She had a habit of pausing before gossiping, as if she believed doing so would somehow preserve her own virtue while she criticized others. Lilian knew her tactics, yet she found herself drawn in. 

“Do tell us why!” Lilian’s voice, usually quiet and timid, rose in volume. It was a rare occurrence. The ladies sharing the parasol looked at her in surprise. 

“Well…you see, I was curious about which…which parts were…lacking.” Lilian stammered. The shy young lady was uncomfortable with the attention. “I, I also enjoy Clarice’s books. I th-thought Love Covered in Filth would be her masterpiece, but it seems your opinions are…di-different.” 

Lady Ashton smiled kindly at the blushing Lilian. While she enjoyed gossip, she wasn’t a cruel woman, and Lilian found a sliver of courage. “It’s just that…” Lilian gulped, her eyes fixed on the hesitant Lady Ashton. “The descriptions were somewhat…contrived. Miss Lilian de Vermore might not understand, of course.” The other ladies erupted in laughter. It wasn’t directed at Lilian, but rather seemed to stem from some inside joke. “Yes, especially the scene where the two characters first sleep together.” 

“You mean the…insertion part?” 

“Exactly! That passage. It felt so awkward.” 

The fork Lilian had been using to pick at her walnut tart clattered against the glass dish. “Oh dear, what are we talking about in front of an unmarried lady?” At that moment, in the distance, Frederick Eisen began reciting a poem. “Lady de Vermore, please forget our conversation and listen to that beautiful recitation. We’ve been terribly rude.” 

“No, please…tell me a little more!” Lilian, uncharacteristically bold, pressed further. “Well, since you ask, Lady de Vermore, let’s just say that intimacy can be…messy. Whereas Clarice’s depiction of lovemaking was, how shall I put it… too pristine.” 

“It sounds like it was written by someone inexperienced.” 

“Exactly! It’s like she took all the fantasies I had as a maiden and put them on paper.” Perhaps emboldened by their married status, the noblewomen continued their scandalous chatter. 

“And the part about size…did she really say smaller is better?” Baroness Versy shook her head. 

“Wh-why? Wouldn’t it…um…hurt if it were…larger?” Lilian’s final question sent the noblewomen into peals of laughter, some dabbing at their eyes with handkerchiefs. The woman to her right even removed her glove to fan herself, trying to regain her composure. Lilian’s face burned as she realized the naiveté of her question. “Oh my, we must stop. Lady de Vermore’s face is about to burst.” 

Lilian, dazed, shook her head slightly, trying to gather her wits. “No, I’m alright.” 

“It’s a bit much for an inexperienced young lady to hear such things. We apologize.” 

“It’s truly alright, Countess.” 

“We’ll end our teasing here. Shall we listen to Miss Frederick’s poem now?” With the Palace of Baltan’s greenhouse as a backdrop, Frederick Eisen recited her poem. “Wherever the wind lingers, your whispers remain…”