children.
“As for myself, I surely can’t allow a bite to pass my lips,” Bethel was saying, “for I confess that I have been on a fast that would wring tears from a Chinese peasant. But whenever I feel my resolve waver, I remind myself that one of the first things my William noticed about me was my slender figure.”
She waved a hand at the blue and white Canton china tea service that sat waiting on a silver cart. “Emma, dear, why don’t you pour this afternoon?”
The purpose of her pouring, Emma knew, was to show off her betrothal ring. For while a young lady should never brag about her good fortune, a little subtle flaunting was allowed.
The Carter sisters wouldn’t be able to miss the ring, for it flashed like blue fire even in the dull light of a gray day. The ring was a huge sapphire encircled by a dozen diamonds, and he had slipped it on her finger only yesterday. Afterward he had turned her hand over and kissed her palm and then the inside of her wrist, and then at last, at last, he had kissed her mouth.
She had been startled by how his mouth had felt on hers, so strange and sweet and urgent. And afterward, when he’d let her mouth go, her own lips had felt thick and hot. She’d touched them with her tongue and tasted him.
The ring was duly exclaimed over and admired by the two elderlyladies. Emma smiled shyly at Miss Liluth as she handed her a cup of tea with no milk and two sugars. Liluth Carter had been an acknowledged beauty in her day and she was pretty still, with cornsilk hair, pale and fine, and violet eyes.
Emma wondered if Miss Liluth had been kissed by her young man before he had gone off to die in the war. Perhaps they had even made love the night before he left. Emma found the thought of committing such a delicious sin with the man you loved terribly exciting—like sailing before a squall. And dangerous as well, fraught as it was with discovery and scandal. She liked to imagine herself doing it, although she doubted in her heart she would ever find the courage. Certainly she couldn’t imagine Geoffrey ever suggesting it.
But in all these years that she had known Miss Liluth, Emma had never spoken with the woman about the man she had loved and so tragically lost. Powerful feelings drove Liluth Carter to that train station every Tuesday to wait for a man who would never return. Yet no one ever acknowledged those feelings aloud, and so they did not exist.
Emma knew she would never learn the secrets that lived inside Miss Liluth’s heart. She would spend the next hour in her company, just as they had spent hundreds of hours before this, and the conversation probably wouldn’t progress much beyond the weather.
A lady was required at all times to have an ample supply of small talk at her tongue’s end, most of it about the weather. Emma had often wondered, though, why they should all care so much about the elements when they so rarely went out in them. The ladies of Bristol fretted more over the weather than did the fishermen.
“The weather,” Miss Annabelle Carter said as if on cue, “has been most variable lately.”
“It never settles this time of year,” Bethel chimed in. She sounded sorely aggrieved, as if it behaved so just to vex her. “At least winter and summer are settled seasons. One knows what to expect.”
Emma caught her sister’s eye, and they shared a bemused smile. “Ifind this unsettled weather most unsettling,” she said. “Don’t you, Maddie?”
Her sister’s face lightened with quiet laughter. “Indeed. But then I’ve discovered that with the weather in particular, one must keep one’s opinions flexible.”
“It was raining the day my Charles went off to the war,” Miss Liluth said. “I always feel so sad on rainy days. Perhaps tomorrow it will be fair.”
Bethel leaned over and patted the woman’s arm. “I’m sure it will be, my dear.”
Emma swallowed around an ache in her throat that felt strangely like tears. There sat Miss Liluth,
“As for myself, I surely can’t allow a bite to pass my lips,” Bethel was saying, “for I confess that I have been on a fast that would wring tears from a Chinese peasant. But whenever I feel my resolve waver, I remind myself that one of the first things my William noticed about me was my slender figure.”
She waved a hand at the blue and white Canton china tea service that sat waiting on a silver cart. “Emma, dear, why don’t you pour this afternoon?”
The purpose of her pouring, Emma knew, was to show off her betrothal ring. For while a young lady should never brag about her good fortune, a little subtle flaunting was allowed.
The Carter sisters wouldn’t be able to miss the ring, for it flashed like blue fire even in the dull light of a gray day. The ring was a huge sapphire encircled by a dozen diamonds, and he had slipped it on her finger only yesterday. Afterward he had turned her hand over and kissed her palm and then the inside of her wrist, and then at last, at last, he had kissed her mouth.
She had been startled by how his mouth had felt on hers, so strange and sweet and urgent. And afterward, when he’d let her mouth go, her own lips had felt thick and hot. She’d touched them with her tongue and tasted him.
The ring was duly exclaimed over and admired by the two elderlyladies. Emma smiled shyly at Miss Liluth as she handed her a cup of tea with no milk and two sugars. Liluth Carter had been an acknowledged beauty in her day and she was pretty still, with cornsilk hair, pale and fine, and violet eyes.
Emma wondered if Miss Liluth had been kissed by her young man before he had gone off to die in the war. Perhaps they had even made love the night before he left. Emma found the thought of committing such a delicious sin with the man you loved terribly exciting—like sailing before a squall. And dangerous as well, fraught as it was with discovery and scandal. She liked to imagine herself doing it, although she doubted in her heart she would ever find the courage. Certainly she couldn’t imagine Geoffrey ever suggesting it.
But in all these years that she had known Miss Liluth, Emma had never spoken with the woman about the man she had loved and so tragically lost. Powerful feelings drove Liluth Carter to that train station every Tuesday to wait for a man who would never return. Yet no one ever acknowledged those feelings aloud, and so they did not exist.
Emma knew she would never learn the secrets that lived inside Miss Liluth’s heart. She would spend the next hour in her company, just as they had spent hundreds of hours before this, and the conversation probably wouldn’t progress much beyond the weather.
A lady was required at all times to have an ample supply of small talk at her tongue’s end, most of it about the weather. Emma had often wondered, though, why they should all care so much about the elements when they so rarely went out in them. The ladies of Bristol fretted more over the weather than did the fishermen.
“The weather,” Miss Annabelle Carter said as if on cue, “has been most variable lately.”
“It never settles this time of year,” Bethel chimed in. She sounded sorely aggrieved, as if it behaved so just to vex her. “At least winter and summer are settled seasons. One knows what to expect.”
Emma caught her sister’s eye, and they shared a bemused smile. “Ifind this unsettled weather most unsettling,” she said. “Don’t you, Maddie?”
Her sister’s face lightened with quiet laughter. “Indeed. But then I’ve discovered that with the weather in particular, one must keep one’s opinions flexible.”
“It was raining the day my Charles went off to the war,” Miss Liluth said. “I always feel so sad on rainy days. Perhaps tomorrow it will be fair.”
Bethel leaned over and patted the woman’s arm. “I’m sure it will be, my dear.”
Emma swallowed around an ache in her throat that felt strangely like tears. There sat Miss Liluth,
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