herself over and over. She looked beautiful, as always. And yet inside, she felt... she felt... well, she felt rather awful. Frightened was too strong a word for it. Anxious, perhaps, but that was something she refused to admit. Perhaps the best word was bored. Or maybe even lonely.
Yes, that's what she was: lonely. And so she went about kissing men to ease that pain. Only it never did. Sometimes it made her feel even worse.
"Milady?" whispered Miss Carson. "Are you all right?"
Gwen blinked. "Milady? Good lord, that's my mother! You must call me Gwen. And I shall call you Debra, if that's all right?"
"Of course it is!"
"Excellent!" But then she fell silent, praying that Debra forgot the original direction of their conversation or was perhaps too polite to push the question.
No such luck. The girl reached forward and touched her hand. She had strong hands which she supposed was to be expected in a country girl. And when she squeezed Gwen's fingers, Gwen squeezed back with all her might and Debra didn't so much as blink.
"Did he hurt you?" Debra asked.
"Oh goodness no! Nothing like that," she said aloud. Though inside she thought there could have been hurt. There could have been so much worse than that. "I play with the danger, you know," she said, startled that she was confessing something so personal. "I like the excitement of doing something forbidden right under all those biddies' noses! I have a chaperone at every ball, and not a one of them has stopped me from anything!"
"But what did you do?"
"I let him kiss me," she said. "In an empty room. That was the mistake, you know. The empty room part. Usually, I allow just a little touch in a hallway or in the shadows. Nothing so very private as a room."
"What happened?" The words were so breathless, Gwen almost didn't even hear the question.
"He pressed me up against a wall and... and..." She had thought about it so often since then. The man was inconsequential. He was a boor and so she told him afterwards. Indeed, after that Season, he left London never to return, which was an excellent thing indeed. But the experience of it lived in her memory. The feel of it. Of him.
"Gwen?"
"It was nothing really. He pushed himself against me and I felt it."
"It?"
Gwen grimaced. Really, she didn't think she would have to be so very explicit with a country girl. She gestured to her groin. "You know. It . A man's it . Pressed up against me. So hot and... and so very there. He pushed against me, and I could feel it through my clothes."
"Really?" Debra gasped. "Did it hurt?"
"Hurt? No! Of course not!"
"Did you..." Debra's blush appeared in full force. "Was it nice?"
Gwen released a nervous giggle, then immediately pressed her fingertips to her mouth. Oh how many nights had she lay in bed thinking about the experience, trying to find the words to describe it even to herself. "It wasn't nice," she said. "It was surprising. And interesting. And... and I want to feel it again."
Debra squealed with laughter. "And have you? I mean, did you let him—"
"Oh no! Not with him. He was a boor. And not with anyone else since. But..." She'd imagined it. And she couldn't help but imagine what it would be like with the Tall Gentleman as he was now called in her mind. He was so very big, his it would have to be equally big, wouldn't it? Would he grind it against her like the other man had? Or would he do something else?
And what if he was doing that with someone else? Someone like Debra?
"Are you going to marry the Tall Gentleman?" she blurted. "Is he your intended?"
Debra frowned. "The tall gentleman?"
"He called you by your first name."
"Edward, you mean? Yes, he is awfully tall, but... No. No, I'm not going to marry him."
Edward. His name was Edward. Well, that was rather unfortunate. Not nearly so exciting as Fabian or Alastair. But the name didn't matter. "Tell me more," she prodded. "Is he unsuitable in some way?"
"Gracious, no! He's perfectly suitable. But he's just... well,
Yes, that's what she was: lonely. And so she went about kissing men to ease that pain. Only it never did. Sometimes it made her feel even worse.
"Milady?" whispered Miss Carson. "Are you all right?"
Gwen blinked. "Milady? Good lord, that's my mother! You must call me Gwen. And I shall call you Debra, if that's all right?"
"Of course it is!"
"Excellent!" But then she fell silent, praying that Debra forgot the original direction of their conversation or was perhaps too polite to push the question.
No such luck. The girl reached forward and touched her hand. She had strong hands which she supposed was to be expected in a country girl. And when she squeezed Gwen's fingers, Gwen squeezed back with all her might and Debra didn't so much as blink.
"Did he hurt you?" Debra asked.
"Oh goodness no! Nothing like that," she said aloud. Though inside she thought there could have been hurt. There could have been so much worse than that. "I play with the danger, you know," she said, startled that she was confessing something so personal. "I like the excitement of doing something forbidden right under all those biddies' noses! I have a chaperone at every ball, and not a one of them has stopped me from anything!"
"But what did you do?"
"I let him kiss me," she said. "In an empty room. That was the mistake, you know. The empty room part. Usually, I allow just a little touch in a hallway or in the shadows. Nothing so very private as a room."
"What happened?" The words were so breathless, Gwen almost didn't even hear the question.
"He pressed me up against a wall and... and..." She had thought about it so often since then. The man was inconsequential. He was a boor and so she told him afterwards. Indeed, after that Season, he left London never to return, which was an excellent thing indeed. But the experience of it lived in her memory. The feel of it. Of him.
"Gwen?"
"It was nothing really. He pushed himself against me and I felt it."
"It?"
Gwen grimaced. Really, she didn't think she would have to be so very explicit with a country girl. She gestured to her groin. "You know. It . A man's it . Pressed up against me. So hot and... and so very there. He pushed against me, and I could feel it through my clothes."
"Really?" Debra gasped. "Did it hurt?"
"Hurt? No! Of course not!"
"Did you..." Debra's blush appeared in full force. "Was it nice?"
Gwen released a nervous giggle, then immediately pressed her fingertips to her mouth. Oh how many nights had she lay in bed thinking about the experience, trying to find the words to describe it even to herself. "It wasn't nice," she said. "It was surprising. And interesting. And... and I want to feel it again."
Debra squealed with laughter. "And have you? I mean, did you let him—"
"Oh no! Not with him. He was a boor. And not with anyone else since. But..." She'd imagined it. And she couldn't help but imagine what it would be like with the Tall Gentleman as he was now called in her mind. He was so very big, his it would have to be equally big, wouldn't it? Would he grind it against her like the other man had? Or would he do something else?
And what if he was doing that with someone else? Someone like Debra?
"Are you going to marry the Tall Gentleman?" she blurted. "Is he your intended?"
Debra frowned. "The tall gentleman?"
"He called you by your first name."
"Edward, you mean? Yes, he is awfully tall, but... No. No, I'm not going to marry him."
Edward. His name was Edward. Well, that was rather unfortunate. Not nearly so exciting as Fabian or Alastair. But the name didn't matter. "Tell me more," she prodded. "Is he unsuitable in some way?"
"Gracious, no! He's perfectly suitable. But he's just... well,
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