“I think that it shall be disgusting,” Celine had declared, her upper lip curled in revulsion.
“What do you mean? No, I think it shall be soft, and warm, and utterly romantic!” Dahlia had said dreamily.
“What about you, Helena, what do you think?” Celine had asked her.
“I think that it shall be nice.”
“Nice?” Dahlia had asked. “That is it? Nice?”
“Well, yes. Nice.”
“A kitten is nice.” Celine laughed.
Helena chuckled at the memory.
Well, it was nice. It was warm and soft. So, Celine was not very far off. Kittens are warm and soft too.
Laughing silently at herself, Helena shook her head.
Now married, Celine and Dahlia never spoke of kisses—nor of intimacy with men. Perhaps between the two of them, they did, for she did hear that married women spoke more freely of marital acts with other married women. Perhaps had she asked them, they would have answered her.
But now she no longer needed to ask them. Now she knew what it felt like to be kissed by a man. By a man such as Matteo Castor.
This evening, she would see him again for the first time since they kissed. The Spring Musicale was the first of the two remaining social events that they would attend as a betrothed couple.
A myriad of feelings swirled through her at the thought of seeing him again, and at the thought that their time together was coming to an end. Each as weighty as the next.
Her thoughts were interrupted at the sound of her bedroom door opening. Her lady’s maid curtsied upon entering, then went directly to her.
“May I begin, m’lady?”
“Yes, thank you, Sally.”
She picked up the brush and started with Helena’s hair.
“Have you finished with Chastity’s preparations?”
“Yes, m’lady.”
Helena thought she detected a sigh in her answer.
“Sally?”
“Yes, m’lady?”
“How have you been getting on with Chastity lately? She has been somewhat more demanding of your assistance as of late.”
Helena had noticed that her sister had become very dependent on Sally, indeed, requesting her help or company more than she used to.
On every available afternoon, Chastity and Sally went for a walk. Whenever Helena had volunteered to accompany her, Chastity would decline the offer, stating that she knew how busy Helena was.
“Oh!”
Sally dropped the brush. She bent down and hastily picked it up.
“‘Tis- ‘tis nothing that I cannot perform, my lady. I am happy to be of service to Lady Chastity.”
Sally wiped her hands on her apron and avoided her mistress’s gaze.
