“Hazel!” gasped Willow, clutching at the neckline of her gown. “Never say that little demonstration came fromexperiencewithkissingaman.”
It was the overly shocked tone which had them all giggling, and even Olive chuckled, thinking it was a fairly good impression of Grandmama.
As Willow gasped theatrically again and this time pressed her palm to her chest, Hazel blurted, “Whatareyou doing?”
“I am attempting to clutch my pearls, only I seem to have left them in my room. Drat that maid, to have left off the most important piece of my affronted-society-matron costume!”
Since Willow’s humor tended toward the drier side, it took most of the other young women a beat to realize she was teasing them. But when Lady Athena began to chortle, the rest soon followed.
“You forgot your pearlstonightof all nights?” Bonnie called out, still chuckling. “When you may have the chance to dance with the duke?”
“Oh, does the duke like pearl necklaces?” Tiffany perked up.
Lady Athena called out, “Most men do!” and then dissolved into laughter again, with Hazel covering her chuckles with her fingers, leaving Olive to wonder what she’d missed.
Oh. This was a reference to one of those illustrated how-to books about sex, wasn’t it?
Pearl necklace, pearl necklace…
Drat it all, why couldn’t she recall what a pearl necklace was when it came to double-entendres?
It is unlikely the latest copy of the Journal of the Society of Archaeology will contain answers.
True, but it was more interesting than discussing a theoretical sex act with a cold and aloof duke. She squeezed the journal in her lap. After all, it was only once a quarter that she got to read a new adventure from Aberdeen Jones.
You are here to make friends, and you have done it. Now, be a good friend and try to look interested in whatever Lady Athena is miming.
Good heavens, whatwasshe doing with that imaginary cucumber?
So, despite the edge-of-her-seat archaeological adventures Mr. Jones always seemed involved with, Olive could afford to put off reading this edition for a while. She closed the journal, exhaling slightly. There. That wasn’t so hard, and it was definitely worth it.
The conversation swirled around her, and Olive did her best to participate, even if kissing had held little interest for her in the past. At school, she’d always been considered slightlyoddfor her perhaps-unhealthy interest in history, art, and ancient artifacts. These young women, however, had accepted her with open arms, and teased her like old friends.
They’d taken to gathering before the evening’s entertainment. Each Friday, Lady Dumpkins insisted there be dancing, and thus far, had thrust one of the young hopefuls at the Duke of Cashard.Thatwas where the conversation soon turned; which of them would be the lucky lady to dance with him tonight.
“Oh, he is just adivinedancer,” sighed Tiffany, who had been one of the first chosen. “Not the world’s best conversationalist, but a duke does not have to be.”
“One would think you would wish your husband tolikeyou,” Bonnie pointed out.
“He can do whatever he wants after he marries me,” her sister shot back. “I’d be a duchess.”
“Dinnae limit yerself to one auld dobber with a stick up his arse, lovely,” Athena directed with a wink. “There are plenty of other lords here. My brother’s a viscount.”
“A viscount?” Tiffany sat forward. “The handsome one? I have not met him yet.”
“Aye.” Athena’s chuckle was low and throaty. “Lysander hasnae been in attendance much—his own estate is a day’s journey away.”
“What about you, Athena?” Hazel had grown closer to the Scottish woman than any of the rest of them. “Are you going to dance with the duke?”
That throaty chuckle burst from the redhead’s throat as she lounged back in the leather chair. “And subject myself to what sounds like his high-and-mightiness? Nay, thank ye verra much. Some starchy auld?—”
“He is not that old,” Bonnie pointed out. “He is looking for a wife.”
Athena shrugged, her expression stating that she honestly didn’t care, and Olive was impressed, despite herself. Her parents had long ago told her that she didn’t have to marry if she didn’t wish it, and that there would always be a place at home for her if shewanted to spend the rest of her life with her father’s books. But marriage to a duke…
Books are wonderful, but what would it be like to actuallyexperiencesome of these adventures? To see Paris by moonlight, or ride a gondola, or stand in a ruined temple in India and imagine the sights and sounds and smells as they must have been?
Olive was cursed with an active imagination, but only enough self-confidence to fill a thimble. How would she ever make her dreams happen? If shedidmarry someone wealthy and powerful, perhaps he could finance?—
