But the old curate would have been horrified to learn that, instead of shock, I felt only curiosity. What would it be like to kiss and touch someone so openly? To press my lips against Molly’s plump, pink ones? Or to once again kiss Mr. Markham? I desperately wanted to try, but instead I kept hold of the feather like it was a promise, keeping it in my fist until it was time for the ladies to rise and go to the parlor.
When we entered, I made sure to take a low seat in back, out of the way and partially out of sight, hidden beyond an end table laden with flowers. I still felt unease around all these strangers, and that unease tripled as soon as I left Mr. Markham behind. I looked longingly at the window, which showed a welcoming velvet night outside.
“I’m already bored,” Helene declared, tossing herself onto the sofa. “Why must the men stay and talk forever when we are all ready to play?”
“We could find that cute servant boy,” Ettie suggested. “That would make the men wish they’d hurried up.”
“What shall we play?” Rhoda asked. She was the tallest of the women, with pale blond hair and strong features that made her look like a goddess from Norse myth. Zona, her fraternal twin, was much the same, although with hair more golden than white.
I knew it was typical for card games or parlor games to be played after dinner, so I wasn’t surprised when Molly declared that we would play charades once the men joined us.
“Although,” she said pointedly, “we will have to be more subdued than normal.”
This elicited a chorus of groans from the women, along with some pouting, which only serve
d to make them look lovelier.
“But why?” Helene asked.
Molly threw a meaningful glance in my direction, and I wished I’d found an even more out of the way spot to sit. The others turned towards me, curious and irritated.
“Oh,” Ettie said. “That’s right. You’re Julian’s new pet.”
“I’m a relative of the late Mrs. Markham’s,” I said, hearing how defensive I sounded.
“Ettie,” Molly scolded, “you’ve quite put her out. Look at the poor girl—she looks like a wild animal backed into a corner.”
Truly, that’s how I felt. Though the women were nothing but intrigued—if condescendingly so—my body thrummed with energy and adrenaline, as if it thought I were under physical attack. The fantasy of running out of the room became blindingly sharp in my mind, and I even shifted my feet under my dress to stand.
“Well, I don’t see why we need to act any differently just for her,” Helene said.
“It’s not for her, it’s for Julian,” Rhoda said. She offered me a kind smile. I decided that I liked her.
Molly walked over. “Girls, this isn’t way to treat our new acquaintance.” She took my hands and pulled me to my feet. “I promise we aren’t normally this cheerless about new friends. We will have so much fun during our visit, and I think you will have fun with us. Can I tell you a secret?”
I wanted to shake my head. I wanted to pull my hands away and run out of this room and out of this house. But something about Molly was magnetic. Cutting and mendacious, but magnetic.
I nodded.
She put her mouth against my ear, her breath hot on my skin. “I don’t think it’s fair for Julian to keep you all to himself and then not play with you, like a trinket in a glass case. Perhaps you and I can change his mind?” And then she nipped at my earlobe, taking it in her teeth and flicking her tongue over the sensitive skin there. As soon as it started, it finished, and she was moving back across the room, throwing me a daring glance over her shoulder.
I put my hand to my ear, not sure how I felt about her proposition or her unexpected touch.
The door to the parlor opened and the men entered, led by Silas, who seemed to be the leader of the party. His pale skin made his dark brown hair and blue eyes stark, mesmerizing, but his engaging laugh and easy smile kept his beauty human and approachable. All eyes followed him as he walked in and gracefully folded himself into a seat, already smiling and joking as he sat.
“You finished your conversation early,” Molly noted to Mr. Markham.
“I didn’t want to leave poor Miss Leavold too long in the viper’s nest,” he said. His tone was light, but there was a warning in his words.
“Oh, we’ve been behaving ourselves, Jules.”
“Mary O’Flaherty behaving herself. Shall I alert the newspapers?”
Without waiting to see her reaction, Mr. Markham turned and walked to the back of the parlor, back to me. As he approached, my vantage point from the stool gave me an entirely different view of his body, namely of how tightly his trousers clung to his muscled thighs and how this highlighted an even more interesting part of his body. He’d removed his dinner jacket, and so now I could see that lean waist and how it led up to that chest and those strong arms that had so effortlessly carried me to my room a few nights ago.
He sat next to me. “Are you comfortable? Entertained?” he asked.
“Of course she is,” Silas laughed. “She’s with us. And we will show her such entertainment that she’ll be spoiled for amusement with anyone else.”
