Page 62 of Homegrown Magic

“To let me kiss you…”

“I thought we agreed you were going to be very quiet while I finish you?”

With a whimper, Yael presses themself into Margot’s hand, seeking more pressure, and she works them harder. Their head drops back on Margot’s shoulder as they keep grinding into her fingers. “But, darling,” they manage on the edge of a gasp, “it’s so much more fun when we do this together.”

Margot can’t argue with that. She gives Yael the briefest of reprieves as they turn around so their body is flush against Margot’s. With desperate intention, Yael kisses the valley between Margot’s breasts, sending an ache through her entire being. As Yael slips a hand under her breast, lifting and freeing it from its corset, Margot’s fingers get back to work.

Yael lets another low moan escape them, ragged and even hungrier. “I’m not going to last if you keep that up, Daisy.” Their mouth finds Margot’s nipple, and their tongue traces the edges, nipping at it lightly.

Neither will Margot if Yael continues to attend to her breasts like they’re doing. Yael hasn’t even touched her between her legs yet, and still, she’s drenched with desire. “I know exactly what you mean.” She pulls Yael even closer.

Yael’s lips find hers, and they kiss her urgently, deeply. Margot takes their hand, directing it to where she needs them.

They tug on her bottom lip with their teeth. “How shall I ever get this damn skirt of yours up?”

Margot should’ve insisted upon fewer underskirts or forgone undergarments. Then again, they never should’ve come to the ball in the first place. Why aren’t they back in their room at the Glowing Coin, where such problems are easily solved?

Margot pauses in her work just long enough to lift her skirts. She leans back against the jasmine-covered wall as Yael’s hand snakes beneath her clothing and into the heart of her desire.

Together, they find a rhythm, each of them teasing, pushing, pressing. Margot wraps one silken-stocking covered leg around Yael’s waist, and they gasp.

“Daisy,” Yael moans, arching up to her. “I can’t wait—”

And then they break, their pleasure shattering across Margot’s hand. They shiver as they finish, then their mouth dips to Margot’s breast once more. Their hands move under her skirt, insisting she follows them.

She comes a moment later, riding waves of delight. Her head falls back on the trellis, sending jasmine blossoms raining down around her, and she grips Yael’s hair tightly with both her hands.

“Oh, darling,” Yael murmurs moments later, kissing a path back up her neck. Their lips hover directly above hers as they whisper against her mouth, “I fear neither of us was quiet.”

Margot laughs, giddy with sated desire and the closeness of Yael. “I don’t believe anyone heard us, but if they did, I don’t think I care.”

“I feel the same way entirely.” Their lips sink into Margot’s, drawing her to them again.

When they finally break apart, Margot lets go of her bunched skirts—gods, her dress is wrinkled beyond repair, but she can’t bring herself to give it more than a passing thought. Crushed and fallen jasmine flowers litter the balcony floor. Yael plucks one from her hair, and Margot brushes one from their lapel, pouring tenderness into the gesture.

She loves Yael Clauneck. That’s the other truth she knows, and it is utterly terrible.

“Yael?” she murmurs.

“Yes, Daisy?”

“Let’s get out of here, please? Just for the night? Let’s go back to the Glowing Coin?”

“Why not pack our things and leave the city altogether? I’ve about had my fill of Ashaway, don’t you agree?”

Margot wanted one more night, or at least a few more hours to pretend. But she can’t have that.

It’s time to tell Yael the entire truth.

Straightening herself, she brushes another flower from her sleeve. Reaching into her pocket, Margot hands them the letter.

“What is this?” Yael asks, their eyes running over the Clauneck letterhead. Skimming the words Margot knows so well. “Margot, what is this?” they repeat. They read aloud: “We are impressed by your generous estimations of your daughter’s talents and intrigued by the Natural Caster Restoration Potion you claim she is close to perfecting. In remembrance of Fern—whose legacy looms large over Harrow and its economy still—we have seen fit to offer an extension on said debts. For a period of four years until that summer’s end, we will delay the seizure of Bloomfield…”

“It’s from your parents.”

“Obviously. What do they mean? What is this Natural Caster Potion?”

Taking a deep breath for courage, Margot finally tells Yael the full truth. She shares the little she knows about the recipe and why Menorath wants it, and about the Claunecks actually owning her cottage, greenhouses, and the village of Bloomfield. She confesses to her failed attempts to make the impossible Natural Caster Potion, and the four mere months that are left. On the edge of a sob, she also tells Yael about Menorath’s secret message attached to the masquerade invitation, how she persuaded Yael to come back to Ashaway when they didn’t want to, and Menorath’s offer for a permanent pause on the repossession of the greenhouses, cottage, and town if she convinces Yael to remain in Ashaway and rejoin their family.