Was it possible for one’s entire torso to flush with embarrassment?

“Good,” she murmured, wishing the fire of her skin would stop before it reached her toes. “Excellent.”

And no other words came.

Basset stared at her, his polite smile remaining, no hint of burning anywhere in his face or neck.

Fortunate man.

“Would you care to sit down?” he asked when she said nothing more. “One of the footmen will fetch you a plate if you wish.”

Adelaide shook her head, swallowing somehow amid her burning throat. “No, I thank you. I have a breakfast tray. Or I have had one. A tray, that is. I haven’t finished yet, though it would certainly appear that way, and perhaps I won’t finish if everything has gone cold…”

Why could she not stop talking? What was happening to her?

“Indeed,” Basset said slowly when she fell silent, his expression turning a little bemused. “Nothing worse than a cold breakfast.”

Was he humoring her? Mocking her? Feeling as stilted as she was?

Oh, what did it matter anyway?

“Basset,” Adelaide began in a rush, stepping forward to grip the nearest chair, “I realize last evening was not the preferred time for you to answer all of my questions, but I wonder if you might indulge me now.”

His eyes widened and he leaned an elbow on the table, rubbing at his brow. “Adelaide, it is far too early for me to imbibe spirits, and this conversation will make me drink.”

“But you are the only one I can ask!” she cried, her knuckles turning white. “Please, Basset.”

He sighed, looking over at her, his own discomfort now painfully evident. She watched him swallow, then fold the newssheet, nodding. “Very well. Proceed.”

Adelaide nodded once, a knot forming somewhere within her. “After what… transpired, will I now be with child?”

Basset wet his lips. “Perhaps, but that is not certain.”

“So it takes more than once?”

“It can.”

“And it is expressly for making children?”

“Not… entirely,” he answered, straightening a little, his brow creasing, “but I believe it is primarily for such things.”

“Not entirely?” she repeated in confusion.

He averted his eyes, looking at the tablecloth with some focus. “It can also be for… pleasure, I suppose. Connection. And this may shock you, but it is not confined to matrimony. In my view, it ought to be, but that is not universal.”

Adelaide let that sink in a moment, her grip on the chair loosening just slightly. “So those who are caught in compromising situations and marry quickly, this is what they were doing?”

Basset nodded, swallowing again. “Or leading to it. Yes.”

“I see. That makes a great deal more sense.”

“Good. I know how you hate being ignorant.” He looked over at her, smiling at last.

“Indeed. So…” She bit her lip, tilting her head a bit. “Does this… thing, this consummation—”