“I did it,” Charlotte whispered. “I cured it.”
“You did.”
Elspeth’s hands were warm on her arms.
Charlotte laughed. “I did.”
Dizzy with her triumph, she grabbed Elspeth’s collar, pulled her in, and kissed her.
A sharp inhalation. Elspeth braced herself against the door and kissed her back, hungrily, until Charlotte was breathless.
They stood forehead to forehead, breathing hard. Elspeth touched her cheek.
Charlotte squeezed her eyes shut. It had been so long since she’d done anything like this. Years. She’d been so concerned with maintaining—both her propriety and her ability to carry on—that she hadn’t realized how much she’d missed it.
“Take me to bed,” she whispered.
“You sure?”
“Please.”
Elspeth’s hand slipped into hers. She led Charlotte across the room and pushed her gently into the little bed in the corner, leaned in. Her kisses were soft now, like Charlotte was something to be handled carefully. Something precious.
One hand cradled Charlotte’s face. The other traced down her neck, over her bosom, lower and lower. She pushed Charlotte’s skirt up over her hips, worked at her underthings until her hand found its way between Charlotte’s thighs.
Charlotte gasped and shuddered, tears spilling down her cheeks.
Elspeth pulled away. “We don’t have to do this.”
“I want to.”
Elspeth wiped her tears away. “You’re weepin’, Lottie.”
Charlotte sat up, sagging against her. “It’s just... it’s been so long. Since Sasha was born. John died so soon after, and I haven’t...”
Elspeth kissed her forehead. “S’all right. We don’t have to.”
“Iwantto.” Charlotte wiped her eyes. “Unless you don’t want to.”
The corner of Elspeth’s mouth turned up. “Ain’t the first time a woman’s turned the waterworks on to me. I just want you to be sure.”
“You must be dreadful, if women are always crying in bed with you.”
Elspeth let out a bark of astonished laughter. Charlotte giggled wetly. Good Lord. She’dgiggled. How long had it been since she’d done that?
“You must be dreadful,” she repeated, “and I’ll go on thinking you’re dreadful until you prove otherwise, so unless you’d like a black mark on your record—”
“Can’t have that, can we?” Elspeth murmured against her lips, pushing her back again.
Charlotte slid Elspeth’s braces down over her shoulders. Elspeth sat back and tugged her shirt free of her trousers, pulled it over her head.
Charlotte’s breath hitched. She touched the hollow of Elspeth’s throat, the dip between her breasts. Cupped one of them in her palm. With a low murmur Charlotte didn’t quite hear, Elspeth kissed her neck, her hand slipping back beneath Charlotte’s skirt and between her thighs. Charlotte clung to her and breathed her name.
No black mark was added to Elspeth’s record that afternoon.
xxxvii. In which Arthur forges onward, despite the forest’s misgivings
Arthur had hoped they’d come across the heart of the wood that very day, but the forest was behaving oddly—if there were a normal way for an enchanted forest to behave. With the acorn as his compass, Arthur was certain the heart of the wood was somewhere straight ahead. The forest wouldn’t let them go that way. It kept closing paths before them, opening others that pushed them farther west or east or south. The trees shifted so much that it confused him. He focused on the acorn.
