“That’s truly wonderful, my dear.” Elinor frowned down at her lap. “Forgive me for asking this, but, how well do you think you know Guy?”

Petra bristled slightly. “Enough to agree to be his wife.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Please don’t take offense. I know I have no right to ask, but Guy’s reputation with women . . .”

“Yes, I know,” Petra interrupted. “He told me all about that himself. But I’m no naïve ingénue, Elinor. I’m younger than he, I know, but that doesn’t make me a simpleton. He even told me about the lady guerrilla fighter in Macedonia. Oh, and I wonder, was there someone in Tibet, do you know? He told me he learned the art of massage in Tibet.” She was laughing now at Elinor’s clear puzzlement.

“It was impertinent of me to start this discussion,” Elinor stated. “Clearly you and Guy have an understanding beyond anything I was imagining. But perhaps I can tell you something about my brother’s growing up, which you might find enlightening, useful, perhaps at some point in the future.” She paused, knotting her fingers in her lap. “I hope I’m not interfering, I know it must seem like it, but . . .” Her voice faded.

Petra was all attention. “No, not at all. Please tell me,” she encouraged. “I know so little about that part of his life.”

“Our father was a strange man,” Elinor began. “Strange and difficult. Our mother had a wretched life. That affected both of us, but I think Guy felt it even more deeply than I did. It was as if, perhaps, he felt partly responsible. Our father neglected his wife, left her sometimes for a year or more. She had no idea where he’d gone or who with, whether or when he would return. She put a brave face on it in public, but in private it was very different.

“When Guy was fifteen our father started taking an interest in him. He started to introduce him to the world he lived in, the women he consorted with. Guy told me once that our father had taken him to his first brothel for his fifteenth birthday and they had shared several women.” Elinor shuddered. “It’s too awful to think about. Guy was such a sensitive boy . . . Our father was a brute. I know one shouldn’t speak ill of the dead, but he was,” Elinor stated with a note of defiance. “And I believe he tried to make Guy like him.”