Page 38 of The Laudanum Ladies' Society

‘Now?’

‘Why not? Unless you have somewhere else you need to be? You were only passing, weren’t you?’

How easily a lie could catch one out, Jenny thought ruefully. ‘Need to be, possibly. Want to be, definitely not. My uncle won’t miss me. If anything, he’ll be happy I’m not at home to be wasting coal. I’ve had to argue to keep the fire in my room lit because he says that now it is March, it isn’t necessary. I say the weather has its own opinion about that!’

Miriam laughed. It was a warm, deep sound that burned inside Jenny.

‘Where should I stand?’ she asked, looking around. Even though they had cleaned the living half of the room, there was so much clutter that Jenny couldn’t really imagine where she would find space.

‘I don’t want you to stand,’ Miriam said. ‘Sit on the chaise.’

With a flourish, Miriam opened a folded shawl of turquoise patterned with gold embroidery and let it fall on top of the chaise. ‘Sit back, so that you can just fall into the most natural position.’

Jenny did as instructed, reclining against the rolled end of the chaise. Miriam sat by her on the couch.

‘Let me do something with your hair,’ she said. She unwound the scarf then reached behind Jenny and unclipped the comb so that the tightly coiled bun fell loose, then she began to take the pins out, one by one. Jenny closed her eyes as the feeling of being touched became overwhelming. It was wonderful.The feeling of surrendering her actions to somebody else was refreshing and slightly terrifying at the same time. Miriam’s hand brushed against her cheek and Jenny had to suppress the soft moan that rose in her throat, reminding herself that the artist would be used to doing this with subjects.

Once Miriam had arranged Jenny’s hair to her satisfaction, she sat back.

‘Put your hand under your chin and lift it slightly. Turn a little to the left. Now, look directly at me.’

Jenny met Miriam’s eyes. They were a deep hazel with darker flecks in them, framed by thick, short lashes. Miriam’s lips twitched. She walked to the easel, her eyes staying on Jenny’s, and picked up a piece of charcoal in her left hand, but stood as still as if she was the subject of the painting rather than its executrix. Jenny drew a deep breath whilst trying not to move and her eyes began to prickle from the effort of keeping them still.

‘You can blink,’ Miriam said, giving her a smile, and whatever spell had been captivating the pair of them came to a gentle end. Jenny watched Miriam, the artist, work. Her hand moved across the easel. Occasionally, her lips moved as she muttered, too low for Jenny to hear. Once or twice, she frowned and scrubbed a little at the canvas with her ring finger. At other times, she smiled to herself. The need to see what was being created consumed Jenny, but she sat patiently and let her mind wander.

Miriam clicked her tongue twice, pulling Jenny out of her reverie.

‘Tilt your head a little more. The light isn’t too good now.’

Jenny turned her head to the window. It was growing dark, and she’d lost track of time.

‘No, too much,’ Miriam said. ‘Let me show you.’ She laid the charcoal on the shelf beneath the easel and walked over to kneel beside Jenny. She placed her hand against Jenny’s cheek.

Jenny’s breath stopped.

‘What’s wrong?’ Miriam’s eyes widened and a little furrow appeared between her straight, dark brows.

‘Nothing,’ Jenny answered. ‘Just… show me where you need me to be.’

‘Just slightly higher,’ Miriam said softly, guiding Jenny’s face with the palm of her hand. ‘There. Perfect.’

Her eyes flickered up to Jenny’s then she brushed her thumb across Jenny’s cheekbone outwards towards her ear. Hundreds of starlings took flight beneath Jenny’s ribs, aching to burst free, and now she did gasp softly as Miriam’s touch awoke flames within her.

Though she’d been instructed to sit still, she took the hand that she was resting on the edge of the chaise and placed it on Miriam’s face.

They held each other’s gaze, eyes searching for meaning and approval and consent. Then, just when it seemed to Jenny that they would stay locked in this pose for eternity, Miriam leaned down and gently pressed her lips against Jenny’s.

The softness of them was exquisite; the scent of lemon hair oil combined with the lily-of-the-valley was a heady mix that appeared to be just as effective in inducing a trance-like state as the tincture.

Miriam drew back briefly, but when Jenny tugged softly on the back of her head, she kissed her again. The first kiss had been one of stillness, lips simply touching, and the pressure was an investigation into acceptance. This one was different, more urgent, as their lips sought a rhythm of each other’s longing, pressing together, slipping apart but moving as one. There was barely room for two on the chaise, but somehow they managed to fit around each other.

Miriam ran her hand lightly over Jenny’s jawbone then downwards over her neck. She slipped her fingers beneath thelace ruffles that covered Jenny’s collarbone to flutter over the skin. Jenny slid her hand around Miriam’s back and scraped her nails up the back of Miriam’s dress, tugging her closer with the fierce urge to embrace her tightly. Miriam lowered her head to Jenny’s neck and slowly kissed it. Jenny moaned as a dart of desire pierced her. She arched her spine, tilting her head back to allow Miriam’s lips freedom to roam downwards.

She reached for Miriam’s thigh and ran her fingers over the fullness, wishing not for the first time that women could be free of the obstruction of petticoats and skirts.

When they finally parted, Jenny felt bruised with delight, her body overly sensitive. Miriam’s hand crept into hers and she leaned against the side of the chaise.

‘I’ve never done that before,’ Jenny whispered. ‘Have you?’ She searched Miriam’s face, recalling Miriam’s mention of her previous roommate.