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“Are you ready?” Her voice was quiet, and so close that only Anne could have heard it.
All she could do was nod and they stepped forward together.
The ice was smooth beneath her skates, and she felt her body propel forward a little. Too nervous to let go, she clutched Letty’s arm tighter. They began to move together, long gliding strides, one foot and then the other, Letty’s encouraging words and instruction all she could focus on as the world started to speed by and her heartbeat picked up in a furious tattoo. Letty was holding her scandalously close, and she reveled in her touch.
It waswonderful. Her cheeks burned with cold, but she couldn’t stop laughing as they moved farther down the pond, watching as women twirled and men dipped down to one knee to impress their partners, and children played in the snowbanks.
Was this the wild giddy freedom that Hawthorne felt when he first laid eyes on Paris? This was as close as she could imagine to feeling such unbridled joy, the rush of pleasure so heady that she almost couldn’t bear it. But if this afternoon was about pleasure, then she would push thoughts of her husband away. She was here, safe in Letty’s arms, and she felt a warm glow deep inside her.
“I hate to stop, but we might wish to consider warming up. I think they are selling coffee.” Letty pointed to the haphazard wooden stands that looked as if they had been erected the moment the pond had iced over thick enough to skate on.
Anne stepped back onto the snow and sat on a bench to catch her breath as Letty went to the stands. In a trice, she was back with two steaming tin cups and a paper cone of baked chestnuts. She sat and handed a cup to Anne. Perhaps it was selfish, but Anne shifted closer, savoring the press of their legs together. She wasn’t usually one to like being touched, but she couldn’t get enough of Letty’s body against hers.
She slid her gloved hand out of her muff and accepted the coffee, inhaling deeply. “This is heavenly.”
“Happily, I brought reinforcement.” Letty pulled out a flask from her reticule and tipped brandy into their coffee. “The perfect end to a perfect afternoon.”
“I don’t want it to end,” she said. “I feel like plain Anne whenever we talk, you know. You don’t speak to me the way most people address a duchess.”
Letty laughed, the sound low and rich. “I suppose I should apologize if I have been rude.” Her voice was like a caress.
Anne’s heart felt as light as the snowflakes that drifted down around them. “No apologies necessary. It is most refreshing.” She hesitated, but any conversation between them was lost among the noise from the crowd. Even their closeness on the bench went unremarked as others also huddled together for warmth. “In fact, I have a question that may be too rude for you to answer.”
“You may ask away. I have no secrets,” Letty said, popping a chestnut in her mouth.
“I was wondering how you came about Robert.”
“By the usual way, I suppose.” Her smile was wry. “His father, Mr. John Wilson, was the dashing heir to a barony. Nothing to speak of compared to what you have, obviously, but to a young girl in a small village, it was the moon and stars. My friends swanned after him for years, making cakes of themselves to attract his notice.”
“But you didn’t?” Anne sipped her coffee, grateful for its warmth and the fortification of the brandy. She was fascinated. She had enjoyed a few short liaisons over the years, but she realized that she had never actually talked about them before. It had always seemed too dangerous to explore in conversation.
“My father had been a captain in the army, and we were well enough off, but I would never have dared dream of ensnaring an heir. Besides, I had never felt a physical attraction for any man. I had no thought of marriage.”
“I felt the same way about men,” Anne confided, after darting a look around them. “Though my marital dreams were limitless.”
“When I turned eighteen, John’s mother was doing poorly so he was in the village more often. I suppose he was looking for a distraction. We fell into the habit of talking after church and going for long walks.” She was quiet for a moment, and Anne dared to cover her hand with her own. “I started to have ambitions that my mother chided me for. A lord’s heir would never stoop to marry outside his class, she would tell me, but still she let us walk together on Sundays. I convinced myself that my life could be a fairy tale in truth. It didn’t worry me that I didn’t feel any desire for him. I was always told that good girls don’t feel anything so base aslust.”
“Until, of course, they do. But then they’re ruined, aren’t they?” Anne shook her head. “I was told much the same thing. It took me a long time when I was young to sort through how I felt for one of my friends. I never had the courage to tell her, but it helped me to understand who I was. I have never forgotten her, or how important it was to have the realization that I did not wish for a husband unless it was in name only.”
“Isn’t it awful? Girls deserve better education. I certainly could have used it. When John convinced me to leave a dance early and pulled me into his arms in his carriage, I thought my lack of passion was proof that I was destined to be his wife. After all, I was such a good girl that I didn’t even enjoy my sin. I did it because he was charming and he made me laugh. I was safe when I was with him.”
“Until you weren’t.”
Letty sighed. “Until I wasn’t. And then I had the shock of my entire family telling me exactly what a bad girl I was. My father refused to allow me to stay at home, so I left my village in disgrace with nothing but the clothes on my back and a babe in my belly.”
“How on earth did you succeed?” Anne’s admiration grew.
“John eventually settled a stipend on me. I made some wonderful friends in London, and their love and support sustained me. I found happiness, and purpose, and I have been very happy. And very lucky.” She smiled.
“You have been lucky,” Anne agreed. “But you also worked hard. You are wonderfully strong to have succeeded so well in raising your son and starting a career for yourself. It’s impressive, what you have achieved with no help from family.”
Was that a blush on Letty’s cheeks? She cleared her throat. “Now I have talked so long that you have taken a chill.”
Anne smiled. “Do feel free to make use of my muff, if your hands are suffering also from the cold.”
Letty’s smile was amused. “Now that would be my pleasure.”
Anne’s face burned as she remembered, too late, the double meaning of the word. She hadn’t engaged in such banter in a long time. Then Letty slid her hand in the muff and clasped her own, and it didn’t seem to matter much anymore.
