Betty explained the process with relish, and Lily recalled that Cal had once told her and Rose about a man’s most vulnerable place and how they could defend themselves if necessary. It seemed an age ago. In all the panic of her abduction, she’d forgotten.
“The second time,” Betty continued, “it was a feller who was just passing through, on his way to—I forget where. I sort of let him, coz I wanted to know what it felt like, and he was clean and youngish, with nice teeth and good clothes. And he was passing through, so it wouldn’t get all around the village and damage me good name.”
“And how was it?”
Betty snorted. “I reckon he’d had a bit too much of me Pa’s ale, coz it was all sloppy and mushy. Like kissing, oh, I dunno, a big warm snail. Ugh!” She laughed and Lily laughed with her.
There was a short silence, then a soft question came out of the darkness. “So what was it like for you tonight, miss—when Mr. Galbraith kissed you?”
“Bliss.” Lily sighed with happy remembrance. “Simply glorious.”
“Did he put his tongue in your mouth? I heard they do that, sometimes.”
Lily felt herself blush in the darkness. “Yes.”
There was a short silence. “Wasn’t it horrible?”
“Not at all. It was... wonderful.”
Betty considered that. “I wonder if I could get your Mr. Galbraith to kiss me—just so’s I know what it’s supposed to be like.”
Lily was shocked at the surge of jealousy that spiked through her. She said stiffly, “I think it’s only good with the right man.”
“I don’t s’pose he’d want to anyway, would he? Not after he’s kissed a lady like you.” Betty sighed gustily. “Trouble is, I’ve got a few fellers wanting to court me—the inn makes good money, and Pa’s made it known that when I marry I’ll come with a goodly sum—me marriage portion, I mean. And I like two of them fine, but not in any special way.”
“Have you thought of kissing each of them and comparing?” Lily suggested.
“Yes, but it’s risky, miss. I dunno what it’s like for ladies from London, but around here you let a feller kiss you and next thing the vicar is calling the banns. Or else your reputation is shot.”
“I see.” Lily pondered that. It wasn’t all that different in London, not for unmarried girls of good family. But kissing Edward was her secret, her very special, precious secret. Nobody in London need ever know.
A yawn surprised her. “We’d better get some sleep. It’s going to be a long journey tomorrow. Night, Betty.”
“Night, miss.”
Lily snuggled deeper into the bed, closed her eyes and relived every sensation of the kiss. Kisses.
He wanted her. She could feel it. It wasn’t just someone paying her an empty compliment. Edwarddesiredher.
She’d been attracted to him from the first. Like all the other girls who’d flocked around him at Cal’s wedding reception, she’d been drawn to him, like a moth to a flame. She’d hung back, knowing a man like Edward Galbraith was completely out of her league.
But tonight he’d kissed her. On two separate, glorious occasions.
Oh, he’d claimed it was merely a case of passing lust—and maybe it was—but inside she was still tingling. And she was dazed. Dazzled. Delighted. She didn’t want to sleep, she wanted to dance and sing and twirl madly around. And kiss him again.
Edward Galbraith had kissed her, ordinary little Lily Rutherford.
Twice.
But even as she thrilled to the memory, guilt pierced her. She had no business kissing a man under a fitful moon, while her family was at home, frantic with worry.
• • •
“Any news?” Emm came to a standstill as she and Cal asked the same question simultaneously—and realized in the same instant what the answer must be. Cal had just arrived home. It was almost midnight, but Emm, though tired, had been putting off going to bed. Just in case...
“They didn’t go to France,” Cal said wearily, pulling off his soaked greatcoat and gloves and dropping them on a nearby chair. “Not from Dover, at least. Storms in the channel prevented anyone crossing for the previous two days. All the ships were still tied up. I checked every one of them, and every hotel and inn—as well as inquiring at every post inn on the way; there was no sign of either of—” He broke off as he took in his surroundings. Under the spatters of mud, his face paled. “What the devil are all these flowers for? Emm?”
Emm hurried forward and hugged her husband tightly. “Hush, it’s not what you’re thinking. We put it about that Lily has the influenza, and the flowers are from her well-wishers. We’ve also been inundated with fruit.”
