They sat in silence for a moment before Harriet decided to take advantage of her captive audience.
“What doesmonosyllablemean?”
He groaned and reached up, removing his hat and scrubbing a hand through his dark hair. Was everything the man did meant to be erotic? Did heknowthe act made Harriet want to runherhands through his hair? Surely he must.
“Harriet,” he complained, but she did not intend to be moved. After a few moments of pointed silence, Alexander seemed to realize this. “Oh, very well, you hellcat. It’s the same thing asquim. There.”
“Honest?”
“Yes. It’s just another word for it.”
“Your lot do have quite a few words for that part.”
“Yes, well, it’s of utmost importance—shapes one’s life, as you pointed out.”
“Whymonosyllable, though? An odd name, no?” Alexander laughed.
“It’s in reference to another,moreinappropriate word for a woman’s …”
“Quim.”
“Yes.”
Harriet held his gaze steadily; hewouldtell her the word. If she was going to give up having children for him, surely he could give up propriety for her. Alexander realized the meaning behind her stare and laughed again.
“All right. All right,” he said, throwing his hands up. “The word iscunt. Are you satisfied?” Harriet hurried to scribble the word in the margin of her book.
“Hardly! Do you know other words forswive?” Harriet had her pencil at the ready. The man was a veritable font of knowledge; she didn’t know why she hadn’t thought to quiz him earlier.
“Please, no more.” He reached his hand under the blanket and shifted, rearranging himself across the seat. No doubt he was uncomfortable from a day of riding out in the rain. “I’m not going to list off filthy words for your Mr. Deacon.”
“Oh, these aren’t for Mr. Dawkins. I presume he knows quite a lot of them; men always know words. They’re likely already in his dictionary—unless you know somethingreallyvulgar. They’re for me. I don’t see when I might have the opportunity to learn them organically. I ought not to be robbed of words simply because I’m to forgo … amorous congress, don’t you think?”
“You … you plan to never … have intercourse? In your entire life?” He looked horrified at the prospect, but Harriet wasn’t certain what he’d expected if she wasn’t to consummate the wedding with him.
Alexander felt certain he’d misunderstood her. But then she said blithely, “I have lived this long without engaging in fornication. I don’t suspect I’ll miss it overmuch.”
“I assure you that it’s precisely because you haven’t done it before that you say that.” Alexander assumed that, as usual, Harriet would fight him on this point.
Instead, she replied, sagely, “I presume you’re correct. Hence, my intent to abstain. I am not aware of what I’m missing and therefore there’s little to miss.” His heart pinched pathetically at the thought of her never getting to experience a good bedding. Although surely it was better than her announcing her intent to have relations with all and sundry.
And then, because conversation with Harriet often felt as smooth as being thrown from a horse, she continued: “I suppose the only thing I’d really miss is kissing. As I have seen it done before, I’m somewhat aware of what I’m lacking. I shouldn’t like to die without a proper kiss.”
Seen?Seen?She’d never even been kissed? The very idea undid something in Alexander. Had he been capable of forming thoughts, he might have had ones like:Lady Harriet Bancroft going to her grave unkissed would be a tragedy. And who would I be if I didn’t prevent such a thing?
In the name of something like chivalry—certainly not unbridled lust—he leaned across the carriage, took her lovely face in his hands, and met her mouth with his own.
It wasn’t the longest or most passionate kiss of his life. In fact, by all measures it was rather restrained. This was her first experience after all; he wanted to tempt her, not overwhelm her. He hadn’t allowed his tongue to sweep over her full lower lip, or—more enticingly—dive into her mouth. The kiss was simple and sweet. But God, did it thrill.Heat coursed through his body, and he had to make a concerted effort not to draw her into his lap.
In faith, he’d wanted to kiss her ever since the library, and while this kiss did little to sate his desires, he was glad to know just how she tasted, even if only to add accuracy to his fantasies. He let go of her after a moment of catching his breath, aware he’d likely shocked her with his advance.
At least she wouldn’t die without a proper kiss. Sadly, he might diebecause ofit. His heart was racing, and he felt all the more indignant that she might never lie with a man. Specifically, himself.
Alternatively, Harriet appeared … unmoved.Peculiar. The only signs to the contrary were her swollen, red lips and a slightly dazed look in her eyes. She gathered her wits quickly—one of her most particular skills—and went back to the action her mouth knew best: talking.
“Thank you,” she offered politely. “However, that wasnota proper kiss.”
“The best kisses aren’t.”
