she was stunned.
Lovers never spurned her, especially after they'd sampled her luscious fruits. His lack of enthusiasm was so shocking and so unusual that she was perplexed. For once, she was smitten and eager for a second rendezvous, while h e could care l ess.
"I guess I'll see you at supper." She was determined to act as nonchalant as he.
"If not before."
Like a silly schoolgirl, she soared at the prospect that they might convene earlier.
"Have a grand afternoon."
"I will."
He stood and straightened his clothes, ran his f ingers through his hair, and in the blink of an eye he was tidy and composed. He leaned down, bracing himself on either side of her.
"That was fabulous." He brushed a kiss across her lips. "Thank you."
Then, he turned and left.
She stared at the door, listening to his retreat. This couldn't be his sole visit! It had been too exceptional, too out of the ordinary, though in view of his inexperience,
6 1
he probably didn't fathom how unique it had been. She would need to enlighten him.
The tang of his seed was strong, and the flavor had ceased to be pleasant. She reached for his glass and downed his brandy, washing away the remnants of their debauchery.
She didn't know why, but she was depressed, and she felt unclean. She poured herself some wine, drank it, too, then rang for a bath.
5
"Well," Melanie snapped, "i f you hadn't spilled the f irst bottle of love potion, we wouldn't need to purchase a second. Is it my fault you're so clumsy?"
It was a sunny summer afternoon, but their carriage was dark, and Kate was glad for the shadows. They shielded her facial expressions so Melanie couldn't detect how she was gnashing her teeth.
That blasted potion! Hadn't it wreaked enough havoc?
Melanie had demanded to see the vial, and Kate couldn't explain its absence, so she'd fibbed about what had happened, when she should have avoided any fabrication. She was a horrid liar.
"I didn't drop it intentionally. It slipped out of my hand."
"I declare, Kate. With each passing day, you're less dependable. Mother says if you grow any more unreliable, she'll terminate you. What will become of you then?"
63
Kate was tempted to utter a few scathing retorts, but she resisted the urge. Regina frequently taunted her with termination, and when she'd been younger, the prospect had terrified. But anymore, she was so fed up that banishment would be a relief. She'd be compelled to make her own way, which she should have done years earlier, but habit and routine had kept her from forging a different path.
However, if she was to be fired, she was determined it be over a dramatic infraction. She wasn't about to lose everything due to an idiotic tincture, although she was nervous about condemning it as a fake.
Though she yearned to deny it, the elixir had mysterious qualities. Against her will, it had lured her into Stamford's bedchamber, and now she could concentrate on naught but him. Her mind had been so radically afflicted that she worried the concoction was dangerous, that it had altered her personality.
How long would the treacherous effect last? What if it never disappeared? Was she destined to be consumed forevermore by obsessive thoughts of Stamford?
A woman could go mad, languishing in such wicked reveries. Kate wished she could open up her head and bustle through with a stiff broom to sweep away all images and dreams of him.
"Can we forget about the potion?"
"No, we can't," Melanie griped. "Have I asked for the moon? I ordered you to put it into his wine, and you couldn't accomplish that simple feat."
"It's not as easy as you contend. What if I give it to him at the wrong moment? He might stumble upon a chambermaid. What would we do then?"
64
"Honestly, Kate," Melanie scoffed. "As if Stamford could be smitten by a servant. Even a magic tonic can't cause such an abnormal result."
"Will you listen to me? Please?"
"No. I'm quite resolved." The carriage rattled to a halt, and Melanie peeked
Lovers never spurned her, especially after they'd sampled her luscious fruits. His lack of enthusiasm was so shocking and so unusual that she was perplexed. For once, she was smitten and eager for a second rendezvous, while h e could care l ess.
"I guess I'll see you at supper." She was determined to act as nonchalant as he.
"If not before."
Like a silly schoolgirl, she soared at the prospect that they might convene earlier.
"Have a grand afternoon."
"I will."
He stood and straightened his clothes, ran his f ingers through his hair, and in the blink of an eye he was tidy and composed. He leaned down, bracing himself on either side of her.
"That was fabulous." He brushed a kiss across her lips. "Thank you."
Then, he turned and left.
She stared at the door, listening to his retreat. This couldn't be his sole visit! It had been too exceptional, too out of the ordinary, though in view of his inexperience,
6 1
he probably didn't fathom how unique it had been. She would need to enlighten him.
The tang of his seed was strong, and the flavor had ceased to be pleasant. She reached for his glass and downed his brandy, washing away the remnants of their debauchery.
She didn't know why, but she was depressed, and she felt unclean. She poured herself some wine, drank it, too, then rang for a bath.
5
"Well," Melanie snapped, "i f you hadn't spilled the f irst bottle of love potion, we wouldn't need to purchase a second. Is it my fault you're so clumsy?"
It was a sunny summer afternoon, but their carriage was dark, and Kate was glad for the shadows. They shielded her facial expressions so Melanie couldn't detect how she was gnashing her teeth.
That blasted potion! Hadn't it wreaked enough havoc?
Melanie had demanded to see the vial, and Kate couldn't explain its absence, so she'd fibbed about what had happened, when she should have avoided any fabrication. She was a horrid liar.
"I didn't drop it intentionally. It slipped out of my hand."
"I declare, Kate. With each passing day, you're less dependable. Mother says if you grow any more unreliable, she'll terminate you. What will become of you then?"
63
Kate was tempted to utter a few scathing retorts, but she resisted the urge. Regina frequently taunted her with termination, and when she'd been younger, the prospect had terrified. But anymore, she was so fed up that banishment would be a relief. She'd be compelled to make her own way, which she should have done years earlier, but habit and routine had kept her from forging a different path.
However, if she was to be fired, she was determined it be over a dramatic infraction. She wasn't about to lose everything due to an idiotic tincture, although she was nervous about condemning it as a fake.
Though she yearned to deny it, the elixir had mysterious qualities. Against her will, it had lured her into Stamford's bedchamber, and now she could concentrate on naught but him. Her mind had been so radically afflicted that she worried the concoction was dangerous, that it had altered her personality.
How long would the treacherous effect last? What if it never disappeared? Was she destined to be consumed forevermore by obsessive thoughts of Stamford?
A woman could go mad, languishing in such wicked reveries. Kate wished she could open up her head and bustle through with a stiff broom to sweep away all images and dreams of him.
"Can we forget about the potion?"
"No, we can't," Melanie griped. "Have I asked for the moon? I ordered you to put it into his wine, and you couldn't accomplish that simple feat."
"It's not as easy as you contend. What if I give it to him at the wrong moment? He might stumble upon a chambermaid. What would we do then?"
64
"Honestly, Kate," Melanie scoffed. "As if Stamford could be smitten by a servant. Even a magic tonic can't cause such an abnormal result."
"Will you listen to me? Please?"
"No. I'm quite resolved." The carriage rattled to a halt, and Melanie peeked
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