Chapter 12 #2
Jenny met Miriam’s eyes. They were a deep hazel with darker flecks in them, framed by thick, short lashes.
Miriam’s lips twitched. She walked to the easel, her eyes staying on Jenny’s, and picked up a piece of charcoal in her left hand, but stood as still as if she was the subject of the painting rather than its executrix.
Jenny drew a deep breath whilst trying not to move and her eyes began to prickle from the effort of keeping them still.
‘You can blink,’ Miriam said, giving her a smile, and whatever spell had been captivating the pair of them came to a gentle end.
Jenny watched Miriam, the artist, work. Her hand moved across the easel.
Occasionally, her lips moved as she muttered, too low for Jenny to hear.
Once or twice, she frowned and scrubbed a little at the canvas with her ring finger.
At other times, she smiled to herself. The need to see what was being created consumed Jenny, but she sat patiently and let her mind wander.
Miriam clicked her tongue twice, pulling Jenny out of her reverie.
‘Tilt your head a little more. The light isn’t too good now.’
Jenny turned her head to the window. It was growing dark, and she’d lost track of time.
‘No, too much,’ Miriam said. ‘Let me show you.’ She laid the charcoal on the shelf beneath the easel and walked over to kneel beside Jenny. She placed her hand against Jenny’s cheek.
Jenny’s breath stopped.
‘What’s wrong?’ Miriam’s eyes widened and a little furrow appeared between her straight, dark brows.
‘Nothing,’ Jenny answered. ‘Just … show me where you need me to be.’
‘Just slightly higher,’ Miriam said softly, guiding Jenny’s face with the palm of her hand. ‘There. Perfect.’
Her eyes flickered up to Jenny’s then she brushed her thumb across Jenny’s cheekbone outwards towards her ear. Hundreds of starlings took flight beneath Jenny’s ribs, aching to burst free, and now she did gasp softly as Miriam’s touch awoke flames within her.
Though she’d been instructed to sit still, she took the hand that she was resting on the edge of the chaise and placed it on Miriam’s face.
They held each other’s gaze, eyes searching for meaning and approval and consent. Then, just when it seemed to Jenny that they would stay locked in this pose for eternity, Miriam leaned down and gently pressed her lips against Jenny’s.
The softness of them was exquisite; the scent of lemon hair oil combined with the lily-of-the-valley was a heady mix that appeared to be just as effective in inducing a trance-like state as the tincture.
Miriam drew back briefly, but when Jenny tugged softly on the back of her head, she kissed her again.
The first kiss had been one of stillness, lips simply touching, and the pressure was an investigation into acceptance.
This one was different, more urgent, as their lips sought a rhythm of each other’s longing, pressing together, slipping apart but moving as one.
There was barely room for two on the chaise, but somehow they managed to fit around each other.
Miriam ran her hand lightly over Jenny’s jawbone then downwards over her neck.
She slipped her fingers beneath the lace ruffles that covered Jenny’s collarbone to flutter over the skin.
Jenny slid her hand around Miriam’s back and scraped her nails up the back of Miriam’s dress, tugging her closer with the fierce urge to embrace her tightly.
Miriam lowered her head to Jenny’s neck and slowly kissed it.
Jenny moaned as a dart of desire pierced her.
She arched her spine, tilting her head back to allow Miriam’s lips freedom to roam downwards.
She reached for Miriam’s thigh and ran her fingers over the fullness, wishing not for the first time that women could be free of the obstruction of petticoats and skirts.
When they finally parted, Jenny felt bruised with delight, her body overly sensitive. Miriam’s hand crept into hers and she leaned against the side of the chaise.
‘I’ve never done that before,’ Jenny whispered. ‘Have you?’ She searched Miriam’s face, recalling Miriam’s mention of her previous roommate.
Miriam laced her fingers between Jenny’s. ‘Yes, I have, but that felt special.’
Jenny closed her eyes, enjoying the warmth and substance of Miriam’s presence. For a while they lay in silence, then Miriam spoke.
‘How long do you think you would have to know a man before you accepted his proposal of marriage?’
Jenny grimaced. ‘I believe six months is the correct answer. I’ve never had the opportunity to find out.’
‘And how long do you think you would need to know a woman before… Well, obviously you could never marry her, but before…’
Jenny opened her eyes. Miriam was looking down at her, her thick, lustrous hair framing her face, Jenny having given in to temptation and pulled it loose from her plait.
‘Before you became her companion?’ Jenny asked. ‘Or a roommate?’
‘Yes, something like that,’ Miriam said.
‘Was your previous roommate someone you called a companion?’ Jenny asked.
‘For almost a year, though I knew it would never last. She was beautiful, but she never wanted to talk about anything serious, and she didn’t make me laugh.’ She kissed Jenny’s cheek. ‘You’re beautiful and you make me laugh.’
Jenny’s eyes filled with tears. ‘Oh, Mim.’
‘What? Did I say the wrong thing?’ Miriam asked. ‘Please, tell me if I did. I can sometimes be abrupt, but I would never want to upset you.’
‘No, you haven’t at all.’ Jenny wiped her tears away with the back of her hand, then swallowed. ‘I’m not upset. I’m far from it. I just never thought anyone would want me.’
‘Why on earth not?’ Miriam’s eyes widened.
Jenny sniffed. She could really do with wiping her nose which was also becoming alarmingly moist.
‘Because I… Well, I don’t know really.’ She wriggled upright, moving her legs to allow Miriam space to stay reclined against her.
‘My uncle has always told me I’m problematic. So far, I’ve completely failed to find any suitors. The few I had in my youth passed through my life quickly. None of them stayed. Uncle Conrad said I put them off.’
Miriam turned away and rummaged down the side of the chaise. ‘Here,’ she said, producing a handkerchief. ‘Give your nose a blow and stop being so silly. Now, I think perhaps I should meet your uncle, after all – to give him a piece of my mind. He really does seem to be a dreadful person.’
‘He’s not. He’s very kind and he brought me up.’ Jenny blew her nose thoroughly.
‘But I believe that he has also kept you tethered at his side for far too long. You need your freedom. Now, all we have to do is work out how you can afford to pay for it.’
She reached for Jenny’s hand and kissed her knuckles. ‘I would love to have you here as my guest, but I think it better if we do things officially so that Mr and Mrs Godolphin can’t complain and evict us both. And, in truth, I can’t afford to pay for this room by myself.’
‘Is that why you want me here?’ Jenny asked. The joy she’d been feeling flowed away as abruptly as the tide receding.
‘No, I want you here because I want you here.’ Miriam rolled upon her elbow and put her hand behind her head. ‘Because I feel very much that I could be happy with you. That we could be happy together.’
Jenny’s pulse quickened. The kisses and caresses they had shared were sinful by any measure, and yet felt so purely sublime. More than that, though, was the swell of affection that surged inside her.
‘I think I feel that, too,’ she said. She raised herself up a little more and swung her legs down to make space for Miriam. ‘It’s supposed to be wrong, isn’t it? Physical acts between a woman and another woman.’ She bit her lip. ‘And love.’
Of course, kissing and touching a man with such abandon so soon after forming an acquaintance would also be completely scandalous, and would probably have felt more transgressive.
‘There are some things that are supposed to be wrong, but if they feel right and hurt no one else, then I don’t see how they can be.
Anyone who knows anything about the classics knows that the Greeks and the Romans got up to all sorts of things and were almost approved of for doing them,’ Miriam said.
‘What sorts of things?’ Jenny murmured; a thrill crept through her at her daring.
Miriam twisted round to face her.
‘Shall we try to find out?’ she asked playfully.