Page 81 of Harpy of the Ton
Lawrence shook his head. He’d long ago lost his appetite for any woman other than Bella.
He should have realized that way back—even when she was Lady Arabella, triumphant from having destroyed his livelihood, he’d fallen under her thrall the moment he kissed her.
“I can’t, Ned,” he said. “But I should speak to Millie—I wouldn’t want her recognizing Bella. And I wouldn’t want Bella seeing us—I can’t have her upset.”
“Bloody hell,” Ned sighed. “Youhavegot it bad. Come to the Oak tomorrow—I’ll take you to Millie.”
“Thank you,” Lawrence said. “You’re a good friend—better than I deserve.”
“Oh, I think you’re getting what you deserve, judgin’ by that lovesick expression on your face,” Ned replied. “You were always one to say that a sinner reaps their rewards eventually. Perhaps you’re beginning to understand that lesson yourself.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Bella shifted herbasket from one arm to the other, wincing at the ache in her shoulder.
“I said you’d bought too many potatoes,” her companion said.
“William’s fond of my potato pie, Sophie, and when they’re being practically given away, I can’t leave them be.”
“Isn’t Mr. Baxter generous with the housekeeping?”
“He gives me what he can.”
Sophie grinned. “I’ll bet he does. I overheard Mrs. Gleeson saying you were the luckiest woman in the county—and she’s a vicar’s wife!”
“Sophie, you mustn’t speak of such things,” Bella said, glancing about. “The women of the village say enough about me as it is.”
“Take no notice. They’re only jealous because you’ve caught yourself such a virile husband.”
“Sophie!” Bella cried. Though she had little understanding of what Sophie referred to, she knew enough to understand it wasn’t a topic on which a young woman should speak. “I trust Sam’s not been taking advantage of you.”
Sophie colored. “Sam’s a good man—he wouldn’t do nothing to dishonor me, but seein’ as we’re betrothed, I see no harm in having a bit of a kiss and a cuddle.” She lowered her voice. “Theway a man pushes his tongue into your mouth—I’d never have thought it’d be so…”
“Pleasurable?” Bella suggested, tempering the little pulse of need at the memory of Lawrence’s kiss.
“I’m quite envious of you, having a man to kiss you every day like that. It must be wonderful.”
“It is,” Bella said.
Or it would be if he kissed me every day.
“And then, at night…” Sophie continued. “I know it’s not proper to speak of such things, but I never knew my mother, and my aunt passed when I was young. There’s only Uncle Ned, and I can hardly ask him. I hope you don’t mind.”
Bella glanced at her friend—the eager young girl betrothed to an amiable, soft-spoken young man. Sophie had a life of fulfilment and love ahead, with a man who adored her.
She and Bella were of similar age—perhaps a year apart. But next to her, Bella felt like an aged aunt watching a young girl through envious eyes.
“Does it hurt much?” Sophie asked. “Mrs. Chantry said I’d bleed like a pig on my wedding night.”
“She saidwhat?”
“Will I bleed every night? I mean—I know I bleed every month, but it doesn’t hurt, least not at the time, though my body aches before.”
“I-I don’t know,” Bella said. “I can’t remember.”
“But surely each night when Mr. Baxter…” Sophie trailed off. “Oh, forgive me! I know I shouldn’t speak of it, but I’m”—she lowered her voice—“I’m frightened. Sam’s a big lad. I don’t know if I…”
Bella took her hand. “Do you love Sam?”
