CHAPTER 1
Slowly, the other women’s conversation pierced Olive L’arbre’s concentration, enough to draw her away from the stunning exploits of Aberdeen Jones. She huffed slightly in irritation then lowered the journal to peer over the top of it at the rest of the gathered ladies.
Whatwerethey discussing?
“Do your tongues get tangled when you do that?”
“Well of course! That is the point. See, when his tongue doesthis…’oo ung usis.”
“Hazel dear, wecannotunderstand you when your tongue is in that posit— Oh, I see what you are doing now.”
The rest of the group of gathered women burst into giggles as Olive’s sister Hazel collapsed with laughter. Olive had to admit the demonstration—complete with her sister holding her hands at the approximate height a man’s shoulders would be—was really quite amusing.
Interesting enough, at least, to compel her to lower the journal further in an attempt to figure out what exactly they were discussing
“The best part isnae his tongue in yermouth, ladies, but theotherthings he can do with it.” Lady Athena Oliphant, a perfectly lovely young neighbor of their hostess here at the Dumpkins house party, winked. “Kissing can lead to quite a lot of fun.”
Kissing? Is that what they were discussing? Well, what was so interesting about kissing? She’d been kissed dozens—hundreds—of times and hadn’t felt anything remotely intriguing enough to put down her book.
The part of her mind which was always watching and analyzing pointed out that perhaps she shouldn’t be basing the comparison on kisses she’d shared with her friends, her sisters, her parents, or even her brothers.
Oh, and a particularly slobbery beagle named King George.
Nonsense. Kisses are kisses.
But from what she could recall, only King George’s kisses had involved atongue.
Hmm.
“Oh dear,” sighed her sister Willow, who had taken Grandmama’s warning about being on their best behavior at the summer party, to heart. “Olive has that look on her face again.”
Snapping from her contemplation, Olive raised a brow. “What look?”
The settee gave a little shudder as Miss Tiffany Oliphant—no relation to Athena, but another local lady—threw herself down beside Olive. “I have only known you a short while, Olive dear, but evenIcan recognize it.” She grinned, and when Tiffany grinned, she positivelysparkled. “It means you are not paying attention to whatever we are talking about because you are thinking about much more important things.”
From her corner with her own book, Tiffany’s sister Bonnie murmured, “As difficult as it is to believe, therearesome things more important than kissing.”
Her beautiful sister huffed and fluffed her hair. “There isnothingmore important than putting on your loveliest complexion, most stunning gown, and pinning down a wealthy lord in marriage. If that means allowing him to kiss you a time or twelve, so be it.”
“A wealthy lord, as in the Duke of Cashard?” Hazel prompted teasingly.
Willow and Tiffany both sighed appreciatively, “Aduke.”
Olive and her sisters had accepted the invitation to Lady Dumpkins’s house party as a way to gain a bit of polish, and hopefully meet other young ladies of similar standing—like the Oliphant sisters. None of them were ladies, and Olive hadnointention of entering Society, if she could help it, but had to admit that thus far, the house party had been far more stimulating than the social life around their sleepy little town of Hearthwell.
It seemed that Tiffany and Bonnie Oliphant were in a similar situation. Their father had been a baron, but since their mother was in trade, they didn’t hold much hope of a proper Social debut either. Not that quiet Bonnie wanted one—of all the young ladies here at the Dumpkins party, Olive had become closest with the other self-identified wallflower.
Her sister Tiffany, on the other hand…
Tiffany Oliphant was the most beautiful woman Olive had ever seen, and knew it. While she could be a sweet and thoughtful friend, it was clear that she believed her beauty was her greatest asset, and could be used to accomplish great things. Such as marriage to a duke, or if not him, then one of the other lords in attendance.
The two sisters lived with their mother nearby, and like Lady Athena, were not staying at Dumpkins Estate full-time. Unlike Athena, who only occasionally joined them for their amusements, the Oliphant sisters—or at least Tiffany—were here as often as possible.
The conversation had continued to sweep around Olive, apparently about the Duke of Cashard and if he would be as cold a kisser as he was a conversationalist. But Tiffany nudged her in the side. “You have that look again.”
Olive lifted her chin. “If you must know, I was contemplating the nature of kissing.”
“Excellent! That is amuchmore satisfactory topic of contemplation than whatever boring old tome it is you are reading.” Hazel’s eyes were twinkling as she teased, lounging in the settee across the sitting room. “And moresatisfyingas well!”
