She had not been wrong, this past four months. It was worth anything, everything to have this. And she had never felt a shadow of it with anyone but Anna. She recalled with tenderness their first time together, how inexpertly they had touched each other, how they had laughed and tried this and that to find out what each of them liked.

There was much Ariadne still didn’t know. But Anna had outpaced her like a motorcar outpacing a carriage. Her hands were on Ariadne’s knees, sliding up, finding the bare skin above her stockings. Slipping under her jaconet muslin petticoat. Ariadne’s hand tightened in Anna’s hair. She knew she was making little whimpering noises as Anna’s fingers found their way unerringly to the heart of her. She dropped her hands, flailed for a moment before grasping the shelf tightly. She felt as if she were falling, flying off the edge of the world. She dragged her eyes open, desperate to see Anna’s face. In the scarlet light, her eyes were darkly blue, her lips parted. For the first time in two years, Anna was concentrating entirely on Ariadne.

It was too much. Ariadne gasped and shuddered as the world came to pieces around her. “Anna, Anna, Anna,” she whispered, the word losing itself against the broadcloth of Anna’s jacket. Somehow, she had pressed her face into Anna’s shoulder.

When she turned her head, she could hear Anna’s heartbeat. It was racing.

She drew back, her hands stroking down the front of Anna’s shirt, soft material over warm skin.… “Anna, come here. Let me—”

“Oh, there’s no need.” Anna stepped back. “Really, Ariadne, you should have told me that was all you wanted. We could have done it a long time ago.”

Anna cracked the pantry door open as Ariadne hastened to straighten out her skirts. She jumped down from the shelf, her shaking legs barely able to hold her. “Anna, we cannot just—”

“Walk back into the party together? I agree. There will be talk,” Anna said. “I’ll go first; you follow some minutes later. And we should avoid each other for the rest of the evening, I’d say. Don’t look so worried, my dear. I’m quite sure nobody saw us.”

Cordelia could hear the murmurs as she and James spun around the ballroom. Not that she minded. Let them all mutter about how he was being rude, dancing with his wife when surely he got enough of her conversation at home. She didn’t care what anyone said; she felt delighted, triumphant. She was not a fool who had been compromised into a marriage with an unwilling man. James cared for her.