She had let him kiss her. She had let him kiss her twice. And worse yet, she had enjoyed it.
Jilly hurried along the garden path, clutching fistfuls of her skirts to avoid treading on the hem of her gown in the darkness. It had been so wrong of her, but she had always wondered what it would be like. Nora clearly enjoyed her husband’s attentions, but she had never really gone into any salacious detail as to what those attentions entailed. And as an unmarried woman, no one was truly inclined to tell her, not to any degree of satisfaction.
She had always thought that kissing would be pleasant, of course, but in her imagination it had always been just a light touch of the lips. She had never imagined that anyone would kiss her as James had—it had shocked her to her core. At least until a strange heat had coalesced inside her, stoked by the slow, deliberate sweep of his tongue against hers.
A shiver trickled down her spine at the memory. That scorching heat that had settled low in her belly had burned away all her resistance, and she could still hear the echo of his satisfied groan as she had draped herself over him like the worst kind of strumpet.
You won’t marry anyway. Where’s the harm?
Perhaps there was something wrong with her, because those softly-spoken words had sent a surge of dark delight straight through her. She didn’t intend to marry; there would be no husband to expect her to come to his bed untouched. There was no harm.
The thought drew her up short, slowing her steps as she reached the terrace. Good lord, he had turned her into some sort of hussy. Effortlessly.
Nora was waiting, her back pressed against the ballroom door, a glass of champagne held in her hands. She smiled as Jilly approached, her dark eyes filled with a sort of amused knowledge.
“Drink this,” she said, holding out the glass. “Robert brought it. It will help.”
“Help what?” Jilly accepted the glass, took a deep, bracing sip. The chilled champagne flute soothed her tender lips.
Nora’s lips twitched into a grin. “Dear, you look like you have been kissed. Thoroughly.”
Jilly choked, a wild flush staining her cheeks. For a moment she considered denying it, but Nora looked only amused. “Do you think me very wicked?” she asked in a small voice, hoping for just a tiny amount of reassurance that she hadn’t committed an unforgivable sin.
“Of course not,” Nora said. “I think that for the first time in too many years, you have been human. May God bless His Grace for reminding you of it.” She peered out into the darkness of the gardens, searching. “Where is the duke, anyway?”
“He said he wasn’t fit for a ballroom,” Jilly said. “He said you would understand.”
Nora tipped her head back and laughed, muffling the sound with her gloved hand. Her snickers eased slowly as she beheld Jilly’s nonplussed expression.