Marian asks me something about the estate and I have to ask her to repeat the question. When I look again at Miss Walker she is blushing, as if she had had the very same daydream. I decide I shall ask her, in time, to call me Gentleman Jack.

In the meantime I must sit through this tedium of visiting, but I make sure I catch hold of her hand as she leaves and let my lips brush against her cheek as I feel her tense and she holds my gaze. I think I shall be able to have my way with her. I need to plot a way to be alone with her again, and this time when I kiss her, I will ask her what she feels. Many girls like to be kissed but that is all. The moment you suggest more, with a wandering hand to their breast or thigh, they become embarrassed, and I must laugh and smile as if it were just a joke and hide my hurt that they only want so much of me. They want a kiss from me, but not a kiss down there. That’s territory you must work towards slowly. Test the waters. Have those conversations about men and women and bodies and carnal pleasure and God, et cetera, until you’re sure that they are thinking what you’re thinking. Then… well. Then you can start to have some fun.

Miss Walker

Back at home, my mind races. How can I orchestrate another meeting without our families all around? I must be calm. I may just be one of her conquests. She will cast me aside if I kiss her again too quickly. Perhaps she collects kisses?

I have never met a woman like her and doubt I ever will again. I have had female friends before, of course, but none like her that make me feel… alive. Is it a sin to feel this way? About another woman, indeed, when surely I should be longing for a man’s company and attention?