Mrs. Roseingravewinked.
Maddie caught that wink. She flashed Sophie a gaze pert with accusation before smoothing out her features again.
“Your parents arefartoo knowing,” Maddie grumbled.
“My parents,” Sophie countered, “have five children. I think we’re long past pretending they don’t know what goes on in a bed.”
It was late. The wind was a knife that sliced through clothing. But nothing in the dark and the cold made Sophie feel half as exposed as the memory of Maddie saying:Your daughter has a great talent for making people pay attention.
It couldn’t be true. Yes, Maddie had promised never to lie to her—but what was the distinction between flattery and a lie? Sophie didn’t command attention: she was quiet, small, and round. A natural blender into backgrounds. If she’d been a line in an orchestra score she’d have been the basso continuo floating beneath the melody: pleasant enough, but not what entranced the ear.
Maddie, though—Maddie was better worth attending to. She strode at Sophie’s side, gaslight turning her hemline to gold and her hair to flame. Her thick cloak obscured all but glimpses of her figure as she walked: the long line of a thigh pushing forward, the soft swell of her hip as the wind pressed the fabric briefly taut.
The first time they’d spent a night together none of Maddie’s clothing had come off. Sophie had been too distracted by what Maddie had been doing to her. And then she’d had to hurry away before she’d gotten to indulge her own curiosity.
She wouldn’t make that mistake tonight. Hopeful heat burned through her veins. It tempered her, turned her hunger sharp as a blade.
As if to quench her determination, it began to rain. Droplets pattered the stones around them. Sophie could swear they hissed where they struck her skin.
One drop landed on her forehead, cold as a pearl. She grasped Maddie’s hand. “Come on!”
They ran the last few blocks, gasping and laughing, but even so their hair and hems were wet through by the time they arrived at Maddie’s door. They brushed raindrops off one another in the hallway, breathless and shivering.
Maddie craned her neck to glance down the hallway. “The kitchen’s dark. The others must have gone to bed already.” She and Sophie crept to the attic as carefully as they could, and only breathed easier when the door was closely shut behind them.
Sophie shook more raindrops from her hair as she unpinned it and tried to rub feeling back into her chilled hands.
“Let me,” Maddie murmured. Her own hands had stayed warm, protected by those thick blue mittens. She chafed Sophie’s palms and wrists.
Sophie sighed with relief as sensation flooded back into her fingers. “I hate it when my hands get cold. It reminds me of—” She stopped.
“That’s alright,” Maddie replied after a moment. “You don’t have to tell me.”
Sophie felt embarrassment scorch her cheeks. “It’s just that it’s hard to talk about.”
Maddie’s voice was a deep, cool pond, a mirror-like serenity. “You’re allowed to keep secrets, you know.”
“It’s not asecret. It’s just... distressing.”
“You’re allowed to keep embarrassing things to yourself.”
Sophie snapped, “You’re being kind on purpose!”
Maddie dissolved into giggles.
Sophie grumbled, but the corners of her mouth tweaked upward despite herself.
“We’d better get you out of that wet dress,” Maddie murmured.
They undressed, wet cold locks of hair sending shivers down Sophie’s spine. She all but whipped her clothing off and over the back of a handy chair. She burrowed into the bedclothes, wriggling until her naked limbs were safely sealed away from all that cold air.
She looked up just as Maddie sat on the edge of bed. Her laces were loose and the yellow gown gaped at the neck, but she seemed in no hurry to take it the rest of the way off. Sophie wished she would. It wouldn’t take more than the slightest motion to pull the neck down, bare the breasts beneath the linen.
“Sophie.” Maddie’s voice cut through Sophie’s lustful thoughts. Her gaze was steady and soft. “What is it you think of when your hands get cold?”
Sophie only shook her head. Not so much in denial of Maddie’s question—but in confusion about where to begin to answer.
Maddie waited. One remaining raindrop sparkled on her collarbone and slid down to her breasts, vanishing into the shadowed space between them.
