Page 24 of Twelve Drummers Drumming

If she had been distracted by him before, it was nothing to how she felt now.

Jemima’s kiss was hesitant at the beginning; it was her first, after all, and she was still not entirely sure it was welcome.

Hugh’s response, however, soon told her just how welcome it was. His lips gently caressed her own, his left hand moving to her waist. A steadying hand that brought her close, her breasts pushed up against his chest, crutch forgotten.

Jemima had never felt so warm in all her life. All outside surroundings had disappeared, and she could be anywhere. Nothing mattered but Captain Rotherham and his gorgeous mouth.

As he turned his head slightly, she could feel the rough graze of a day’s worth of stubble. Leaning into him, Jemima’s hands moved to the back of his neck, pulling him closer.

Her mind was filled with him. Hugh. He certainly knew what he was doing, his passionate kisses shooting tingles of pleasure across her body. Jemima moaned, unable to stop herself, but it did not offend him.

Hugh groaned, pulling her closer, gently encouraging her lips apart. Guided by him wordlessly, abandoning herself to the pleasure, Jemima obliged—and almost opened her eyes in shock.

His tongue lightly explored her separated lips, then ventured into the soft warmness of her mouth. Meeting her own, he kissed her passionately with no thought as to time or place.

Jemima clung to him as if he were the last man alive in the world, yet long before she was ready for it to be over, it was.

Hugh lifted his head and opened his eyes. “Jemima,” he said, his voice jagged. His eyes were sparkling, despite the darkness of the alleyway.

She gazed up at him, wordless, speechless, thoughtless.

The moment could have remained between them for minutes, but eventually, Hugh’s gaze dropped. “Miss Fitzroy,” he said in a whisper, “I think I should probably return you home now.”

Chapter Six

“And I justcan’t believe how happy I am!”

Repeat that one more time, Jemima thought, biting her tongue to ensure she would not speak aloud,and I will make sure that you never bother me again.

“I am sure you cannot,” Jemima said quietly. Caroline was so enwrapped in her thoughts, she did not heed the sarcasm dripping from every syllable as Jemima warned herself silently that her sister’s inability to notice would not continue indefinitely.

Caroline sighed as she held up a cream dress with golden embroidery around the hem and the neckline, trying to find somewhere to stand where she could see herself in the looking glass. She was dressed only in her undergarments, angling her body to try and create the illusion that she was wearing the dress. “It was ever so much a surprise, you know.”

Jemima didn’t say anything, but Caroline did not need her cooperation to continue.

Flinging the dress she was holding onto the floor, she picked up another which had rather more decoration around the sleeves. “I had absolutely no idea he was going to propose marriage. I thought he was merely interested in telling me about his family’s chosen portrait artist—but of course, they are waiting to have the portrait painted until we are married you see, so I can be included…”

It was difficult for Jemima to be around her stepsister at the moment, though it did not appear that Caroline had noticed.

The engagement ball was that evening, and Caroline had spent the entire day working herself—and her sisters Arabella and Sophia—into a frenzy of preparation. Sophia had only collapsed into tears twice, which Jemima personally considered rather impressive considering the heightened feelings of the occasion.

As the only one who was not permitted by their parents to attend the engagement ball, Sophia was starting to bear the disappointment well. At least, Jemima had her suspicions that the only reason she had not dissolved into floods of tears as the evening drew near was because of the treats from the patisserie, carried in the arms of a slightly flustered Jemima.

“And then I thought my gloves, they simply would not do! Yet I think on reflection, they will do very well. Don’t you think the plans for the reception itself exquisite? I told Walsingham, I said…”

But for Caroline, there was nothing to do but discuss herself—her and Stuart Walsingham’s happiness.

Every conversation circled around it or dived straight in. It was impossible to speak to her but hear Dr. Walsingham’s name; the more one attempted to avoid it, the more surprising it was when it suddenly appeared.

Even Arabella, the peacemaker of the family, had snapped once or twice when in a seemingly innocent conversation about pianoforte music, Caroline had once again introduced Dr. Walsingham and his far superior musical tastes.

As it was, Jemima kept a vapid smile on her face and her mouth shut as her stepsister wittered on.

“…and his entire family loves me, naturally—well why would they object, and on what grounds? There is not much family left, to be sure, only his mother and his younger sister. But then I am so accustomed to sisters, it really was no trouble at all to…”

Jemima nodded slowly, hoping that was the response Caroline was expecting. She was also in her undergarments but had a robe wrapped around her. Dressing for the engagement ball was not her particular priority.

Her mind was on a far different gentleman, one she had spent a good amount of time dwelling on, in the moments when she could ignore her surroundings.

---