Glass Slipper by Abigail Barnette Page B

put her hair in order and wear something that flattered. Not that she could have found an unflattering dress in the bunch, after Marie had finished. Joséphine chose violet silk and tied her curls up with a bright yellow ribbon, aided by the brush Julien had bought for her in the village while she had been in the clutches of Madame Brujon. She looked like a violet, she decided with pleasure as she viewed herself in the looking glass. She did a little twirl, and stopped at the sound of masculine laughter.
    Julien stood in the door, watching her. “I was going to ask if you liked your new dresses, but I can see the answer before me.”
    She blushed, cursing herself for acting like a silly little girl. “I do. And I hope you like me in them.”
    Heavens, whatever had inspired that? She smiled, proud of herself in spite of her shock. That was the bold sort of thing a woman like Marie would have said.
    Julien’s eyebrow lifted in approval. “Yes, well. I think I like you better out of them. Shall we?”
    She took the arm he offered. Just being near to him sent heat racing to her core.
    “I hope you like duck. My game master’s assistant shot several this afternoon. He’s a young man, about your age, his name is Sebastian. I thought you might meet him tomorrow for your morning lesson.”
    Morning lesson? “Am I to have hunting lessons?”
    “No, don’t be absurd. Hunting fell out of favor with the ladies of the court before I ever set foot in the palace.” He paused in his step. “No, I was thinking of allowing you to learn with him, like you did today with Marie. If he doesn’t object, of course, and if you find him pleasing.”
    “Oh.” Joséphine’s heart sunk. Did Julien not find her pleasing? He’d said she was beautiful…had that just been flattery to put her at ease.
    “If you find the idea objectionable, we can ask Marie back,” he told her, misinterpreting the reason for her dismay.
    “No,” she stated firmly. How strange, that she could enjoy intimate pleasures with the woman while being so completely jealous of her. “I would rather you teach me. Privately.”
    He started them walking again, arm in arm down the corridor. “Are you certain? Sebastian and Marie are younger than me, Sebastian can’t be more than a year older than you.”
    “I am not concerned about your age.” If anything it lent him something exciting, in Joséphine’s eyes. He seemed so sure of himself, so confident. Surely a man her age wouldn’t be able to match the self-assurance that came with age and experience.
    He ruminated on this point for a moment, letting them walk on in silence. “How did you come to this conclusion, may I ask? I don’t wish for you to turn down my offer because you are afraid of displeasing me, or worried that you must repay me somehow to display your gratitude.”
    “Not at all.” She wondered if there were any delicate way to put her desires into words, then remembered the morning they had spent together and decided that any prettily vague sentiments she expressed would be useless. “I have not been to court, but my stepsisters have. They have talked about your reputation. People call you the best lover in the kingdom, the worst and most disgraceful rake ever to have seduced a woman.”
    “And you’re not afraid of a disgraceful rake robbing you of your virtue?” He lifted one eyebrow.
    She considered her answer. “I only said it was your reputation. I never said that I believed it.”
    He laughed as they turned the corner to the great hall. The table was set the same as it had been the night before, and best of all, there was no sign of Madame Brujon. Joséphine sighed in relief.
    “Were you expecting someone?” Julien teased as he pulled out her chair for her.
    She folded her napkin over her lap. “I am not a great admirer of being rapped on the knuckles for selecting the wrong fork.”
    They chatted comfortably while they ate. For all the old woman’s unpleasantness, Madame Brujon