I purse my lips, hoping she’ll get the hint that I don’t want to talk about it. How can I explain it to her? How can I admit that my mind was so full of William after I returned to my room that every time I closed my eyes, I saw his face, felt his hands, heard his words? It was like I was pressed against that wall all over again, and William was whispering all the things he’d do to me. It filled my imagination, obliterating my view of the naked man in my bed and replacing him with William. And to my horror, I was titillated. Not by Archie, but by William.
Because that bastard was right. I wasn’t attracted to Archie. Not in the least. Sure, he was cute. Charming. The most adorable man I’ve met. Yet there was nothing between us that sparked desire.
Nothing but thoughts of William.
William! Of all people.
It was useless to fight the fantasy, and I even tried to let it fuel my enjoyment with Archie. But every time I felt Archie’s cold thin lips, his probing tongue that he unceremoniously shoved into my mouth with the gusto of a man digging up treasure in my tonsils, his hands that plunged under my skirt before playing with other parts of me first, I’d be pulled back to my less pleasant reality. I tried again and again, tried to sink deeper and deeper into my fantasy while he kissed me, touched me. Yet the deeper I went, the further my mind wandered. When it wandered back to the recreation room at Somerton House and the moment William locked eyes with me while kissing Jolene, excitement flooded me. The sexual kind, yes, but another kind too. The kind that sparked inspiration. Words on a page. A scene between Johannes and Timothy played out in my mind’s eye, and I had to write it down at once.
I pulled away from Archie, who’d already stopped kissing me and was asking what was wrong. Apparently I’d begun staring into space. I barely recall what happened next because my muse took over. I rushed to the desk, asking Archie to excuse me for just a moment. The next thing I remember is the sound of the door closing behind him. I was vaguely aware when he said goodbye and gave me a gentle kiss on the cheek. Even now the memory is hazy with how deeply distracted I was, but I know he was disappointed by my abandonment.
I dip the cloth in the basin, watching the liquid turn cloudy with ink, and wring out the excess water with violent precision. I’m such an asshole. I wish I could say this was the first time I’ve done something like that, but it’s not. I’ve always chosen my writing over romance, but this experience—this research—was meant to support my writing.
William is to blame for this. He succeeded in sabotaging me, just like he wanted.
“That’s a shame,” Jolene says. “I’m sure you were looking forward to a much more thrilling night. Still, if you kissed, you’ve earned a point in your bet with William. I suppose that means you’re in the lead.”
The cloth falls from my hands with a splash.
I whirl to face her. “What do you mean I’m in the lead?”
She stares down at her hands. Though a soft smile graces her lips, there’s no excitement in her posture. “We didn’t sleep together last night. Well, I slept in his room, but in Mr. Phillips’ bed.”
“Did that idiot never come back from the party?” Daphne mumbles from her curled-up position. “I only get promoted from intern to editorial assistant if he vouches for me. I’d prefer he wasn’t dead today.”
Come to think of it, I didn’t see Monty even once after Mr. Somerton gave him the sachet of Moonpetal. Whatever that is.But I don’t care about Monty. Not after what Jolene said. I sit on the bed beside her. I’m not great at faking sympathy—or any soft emotion, really—but I do my best now.
“You must be disappointed,” I say. “You put a lot of effort into spending the night with him.”
“Yes, but—no, I can’t be disappointed.” She heaves a sigh, a wistful look taking over her face. “What we shared was deeper than sex. He told me things he hasn’t told anyone. Confided in me like he’s never been able to do with another soul before.” She lowers her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “He told me more abouther.”
“Her?” My mind goes to Meredith and Greta Garter. I don’t know why, but the thought of him sharing that same vulnerability with Jolene makes my heart sink.
“June, of course!”
I furrow my brow. “June?”
“Well, he still hasn’t confirmed if that’s her name. Nor did he give me concrete details…” She frowns as her voice trails off. Then she shakes her head. “Whatever the case, he was so distraught after seeing you safely to your room with Archie. I was certain I’d done something to offend him. But it wasn’t me at all. It was June! Painful memories must have arisen inside him. For a time, it was like he didn’t even know I was there! I was finally able to reach him, and we shared the most beautiful night. He recited poetry that made my heart ache, all about the longing he feels, his desire to be close to someone yet feeling dragged back by his past. With us divided by separate beds, I felt like we were star-crossed lovers from a tragic epic. It was an experience I’ll never forget.”
I’m not sure what to say about that. It’s strange that William was so upset over his lost love in Jolene’s presence but didn’t once mention her to me last night. He had ample chances to when he shared about his embarrassing past.
Jolene rises from my bed. “I better get ready to catch my train. I think I’ve stayed away long enough to make my fiancé lose his mind. He’ll be wondering where I’ve gone.”
My mouth falls open. “You have a fiancé?”
She strolls over to her bed and begins packing her few items into her carpet bag. “Yes. He’s an investor in my father’s business. A stranger, practically. I have a choice to remain a working woman or marry, and I’m choosing the latter. I’ve enjoyed my job at the modiste, but I’d much rather run my own household. Especially if said household is a grand estate.”
“I see.” There’s no judgment in my tone. While I wouldn’t choose marriage over independence, the choice she’s making is a valid one.
“He’s handsome, and I already know he wants me, so I’m not worried about a lack of desire between us. But until our wedding day, or until he’s won my heart, I’m a free woman. I’m going to enjoy my freedoms in every way I want. You know all about that, though. We’re two of a kind.” She winks.
I smile back. I still don’t have the heart to tell her she’s wrong about me. After learning more about her, I see she’s the far more experienced of us.
“Now that I no longer have a personal stake in your bet with Mr. Haywood,” Jolene says, “I can fully root for your win. You’re in the lead now. Only by one point, but it’s something.”
Her words send my pulse quickening. Unless William has gathered secret points I don’t know about—which would be impossible with how closely Jolene has been stalking him since she joined us—I have one more point than him. If I can stay ahead of him, I’ll win the publishing contract.
She lowers her voice. “Maybe this is underhanded of me to say, but I’ll say it anyway. If you were the cause of William’s distress last night…well, maybe do exactly what you did again. You were the last person he talked to before he lost his mindover June. It’s safe to conclude that when he’s upset about June, he gets too lost in his emotions to be intimate with anyone else. So…”
