Rose sat up straighter and brightened. "I like to learn." She then slumped back down. "But my mother always discouraged me. As long as I work at the Society and do a proper chain stitch on my embroidery, she's happy."
"That's unfortunate. Most of the women I know would never survive in the world on their own because they are ignorant. But they're ignorant because they've never been given the opportunity to learn. What saddens me is that they don't know they're being deprived. They don't know that they are deliberately being kept uninformed."
She put her book down next to Ursula's, then leaned back into her chair. "But what does this have to do with..." she fumbled for the right word, "your sweetheart?"
Ursula smiled. "Emily. Her name was Emily. And during my time at school, I spent so much time strengthening my mind that I neglected everything else--my social life, my looks..." She bit her lip. "Embellishing my looks seemed pointless. And it wouldn't have mattered even if I had embellished my looks because my face was always bent over a book.
"In fact, my face was bent over a book in the library one day when a soft voice brought me out of my studies. I looked up and caught a glimpse of beige crinoline. I continued my gaze upward, until I saw a pair of velvety brown eyes. And a shy smile on the sweetest face. That's what I always remember most about Emily. Her sweetness." Ursula was losing herself in her memories, until she turned her head and saw Rose. "I'm so sorry. I'm sure you don't want to hear this. I don't want to make you feel uncomfortable."
"No, please, go on."
"But maybe it's not right that I tell you these things."
"Please. I feel as if I waited forever to be close to you. I want to know everything about you."
Ursula thought about it for a moment, and decided that she would give Rose whatever she asked for.
"She asked me if anyone was sitting at the table across from me and I told her no. So she sat. She had the most beautiful eyes, and softly curving cheeks. Her hair was a deep brown, almost matching her eyes, pinned back loosely'¦" Ursula stopped herself. Telling Rose about what had happened between her and Emily was one thing, but she did not ever want Rose comparing herself to Emily.
"Anyway, I just knew I was blushing terribly. It was hot in the room and I felt strange. I was aware that this woman was looking at me but I didn't have the nerve to look back.
"She told me that her name was Emily." She smiled. "She spoke so softly, I almost didn't hear her.
"Emily and I studied our books in silence for a while. I was suddenly so shy, I didn't know what to say." She laughed. "Can you imagine that? Me, shy."
Rose fiddled with the ruffles of her sleeve. "Well, you are somewhat quiet."
She tapped a finger on her armchair. What was the point of being talkative when no one ever listens? "Being quiet and being shy are two different things."
Shifting in her seat, she again debated whether she should continue.
Rose waited, completely engaged in what Ursula was saying, her eyes filled with compassion and affection. And perhaps a touch of pain. She had been used, yes. And her life was at stake, yes. But there was something else to it. It seemed to emerge each time Ursula mentioned Emily's name.
"So, Emily asked me, 'Are you going to the carnival on Saturday?' The carnival had come into town and would be open for two weeks, beginning that Saturday, on the town's outskirts. Many of the girls were planning on going, but I hadn't given it much thought.
"She told me that she wanted to go but, not having any friends, she didn't have anyone to go with. So, I asked her to go with me."
Rose's eyes widenened and her mouth hung open slightly for a moment before she spoke. "You mean you asked her as if...um..."
Ursula quickly shook her head. "Oh, no. No, no. I simply implied that I wanted to go, too, and we could go together."
Ursula had looked into Emily's cocoa-brown eyes and had seen something that came close to pleading, so she'd had no choice but to ask her to go to the carnival. "Most of the girls going to the carnival were either picked up by their suitors or had carriages waiting for them--one of the advantages of coming from a family with money... but this was only two days before the carnival and I wasn't able to arrange for a cab. There wasn't one single cab available in town. So we walked." She shrugged.
"It was a long way, but as petite and fragile-looking as Emily was, she was energetic and lively." No, Emily had not been some withering flower. Her heart ached at the memory of Emily's spirit and vitality. That young, lithe girl had so much in her, so much potential for joy. But her spirit would be broken, her vitality drained, her joy stolen.
"Please, go on," Rose said.
"The two miles to the carnival site eventually took us off the main road and through some open fields and patches of trees and bushes. We strolled. Many people passed us, but we took our time. We were really just enjoying one another's company, looking back. By the time we got to the carnival, I felt as if I'd known her for years."
She remembered her disappointment when she'd seen the colorful flags of the carnival flapping high atop tents and poles. She would've preferred to keep right on walking with Emily, just the two of them, talking until they were hoarse. Instead, they entered the carnival and spent the rest of the day wandering the grounds, playing games, riding the carousel, and eating food. A barker was enticing people in to see the freak show, a collection of human oddities. Ursula and Emily had looked at one another and smiled, wordlessly agreeing that this was something they had to see.
The inside of the tent was partitioned off into sections by drapes, with a different person sitting within each section. In the first was a seven-foot man, who sat on a stool drinking a cup of tea. In the second was a woman who came no taller than Ursula's knees. Each section held another story. That's how Ursula had viewed these people, as stories. She couldn't imagine what their lives were like. The bearded lady, the Siamese twins, the alligator man--each one probably had had lives that Ursula couldn't even fathom.
The person Ursula had found the most fascinating was Terry, the half-man, half-woman. When Ursula and Emily had stepped up to the partition, they saw a man sitting on a chair, his right side facing out to the onlookers. When a number of people had gathered around, Terry stood up and slowly rotated until his left side was facing them. Shocked intakes of breath filled the room as Terry turned, for by the time he was fully rotated, he had become a she.
Ursula hadn't been able to take her eyes off this creature. So many questions went through her head and she felt the urge to find Terry afterward and ask them all. But how could she? How could she ask someone who did not fit into society's structure what that felt like? Even though no one had ever looked askew at Ursula the way they had Terry, she felt an affinity with him/her. For all intents and purposes, Ursula looked normal, but inside she felt as if she'd crawled out of a cave of misfits.
She cleared her throat, dispelling those memories. Rose sat quietly, waiting for her to continue. "After that, we were inseparable. We did everything together. My friend, Gertie, warned me that people were starting to whisper about us, but we didn't care.
"We..." Ursula hesitated. She looked at Rose one last time before divulging the deepest, darkest secret she had. She searched Rose's face for a sign, one way or the other. Rose's dark eyes were filled with tenderness, and there was such grace in her presence. Ursula decided that yes, she was safe with Rose.
"We became lovers."
It was as if Rose had been holding her breath, and with this proclamation, she let it out. And she finally blinked, and smiled. "I will never tell a soul." Ursula believed her.
"We tried to keep it secret, but it was becoming more and more difficult." Every time Ursula and Emily were near one another, the urge to touch and kiss had been almost too strong to overcome. Ursula was always afraid that even the sound of her heart thumping when she was close to Emily could be heard in the halls of the school like claps of thunder.
"At Easter break, we each begged our families to let us stay at sch
ool over the holiday. We told them that we were on committees that required extra work. The truth was that we just couldn't bear being apart. Both families protested, but they eventually gave in." It was during this break that everything changed.
"We were able to spend almost every minute of every day together. Then, two days before the end of break, the headmistress returned early. Emily and I, we were in my room..." She glanced at Rose. "I'm not sure how to put this delicately," she admitted. "We were...indisposed, if you will, and not fully attired."
Rose drew a sharp breath and horror clouded her eyes. "Oh, no."
"That's putting it mildly. The headmistress walked in. I have no idea why. She found us in bed." She dropped her head in her hands at the memory. The humiliation began in the headmistress' office, but it continued when she'd notified both girls' families. Ursula had only been grateful that the headmistress decided that to make Ursula's and Emily's actions public would bring embarrassment to the school. So, they kept it quiet.
"What happened then?"
"My parents brought me home. Mama was furious and wouldn't speak to me for months. Papa, I think, was ashamed but it didn't seem to last long. Eventually, I got back into their good graces." I was all they had left after losing Damen.
"And Emily?"
A lump lodged itself in Ursula's throat and she felt as if her head had swelled. God, poor Emily. "Her family institutionalized her." She paused, struggling to breathe through her constricted throat. Finally, she choked down enough of the lump to finish her story. "She was found hanging in her room."
Rose stared at her and splayed her hand across her chest. "Oh, no."
Ursula got up and walked to a card table at the other end of the room. Absentmindedly running her finger across the feather of her father's old quill pen resting in its base, she fought back tears. She'd never spoken of Emily before to anyone. While she certainly had never forgotten her...on the contrary, she'd thought of her almost daily...she'd been able to put her emotions away in a safe place somewhere in her soul. Not speaking of Emily had helped her do that. Now that she was telling Rose the story, she was finding it difficult to hide her sorrow.
Without realizing it, Ursula had pinched the feather so hard that the spine had snapped, and she let out a pitiful sob.
Rose appeared at her side and put her hand on her arm. Ursula tried to hold back her tears but when Rose pulled her around and held her, she began crying uncontrollably, her body heaving.
There was a knock on the library door. "Is everything all right, miss?" Mrs. Troy asked with concern in her voice. Ursula tried to respond but choked on her words.
"Yes, Mrs. Troy," Rose said. "Everything is fine."
"Do you need anything?"
"No, we're fine. Please leave us alone."
After a pause, Mrs. Troy said, "Very well." She didn't sound convinced.
Ursula continued to cry on Rose's shoulder for a few minutes. Rose then gently pushed her away and took her hand. "Let's go upstairs. We don't want your father walking in on us like this." She guided Ursula toward the door, then got behind her and patted her back, telling Ursula that she should keep walking.
She turned her head and waited while Rose quickly backtracked to the table and picked up the books they had been reading. Rose then pulled her up the stairs to her bedroom, and locked the door behind them.
A large armoire stood in the corner of the room. Ursula opened one side and pulled out a drawer, from which she drew a blue handkerchief. She dabbed her nose with it, then sat down dejectedly on her bed. The light in the room had shifted and the sharp yellow sunlight of late afternoon streamed through the window. It illuminated half the room, leaving the other half in shadows.
"You've been here several hours." Ursula had finally calmed down enough to speak. "Won't your parents be worried?"
"I suppose my mother will pitch a fit." There was a look of consternation on Rose's face for a moment. Then, she moved to the door, stepped outside, and closed it most of the way.
"Mrs. Troy," Ursula heard her call out. "Mrs. Troy, do be so kind as to ring my mother and tell her that I will not be home for a while. Tell her that Ursula is considering doing additional work for the Society and that we are discussing duties and functions. Thank you." She re-entered the room and locked the door.
"You don't have to stay. I'll be fine. Really. I'll have our driver take you home."
"No. I'm not leaving you while you're in this state." Rose went to a small table near the door and picked up a match. "I see you have an affinity for candles, just like me." She smiled as she lit the beeswax candle that stood in a small brass candlestick. "It will be dark soon," she said, and blew out the match.
Rose sat down on the bed next to Ursula and put her arm around her shoulder. "Just as you promised to help me, so shall I help you. I won't leave you."
The light from the window hit Rose right in the eyes and she blinked. Ursula noticed for the first time that Rose's eyes were not a simple brown, but a soft, lush sable, glinting with flecks of gold.
Engrossed in Rose's eyes, Ursula didn't notice her body getting closer until their hips were touching. Her mind was muddled and her eyes swollen with tears, and the movement of Rose's arm confused her.
Rose placed her hand on Ursula's face and leaned in slowly to kiss her. Ursula responded immediately and brought Rose's body close to her. Her arms were tight around Rose's waist as she kissed her softly. Then as their kissing grew more intense and deep, her hands worked their way up Rose's back, over her shoulders, and down her front. She cupped Rose's breasts and let out a moan, one that spoke of long-buried frustration and desire.
Rose brought her hands up to the front of Ursula's dress and unbuttoned the large pearl buttons, just enough so that she could slip a hand in and reach a breast.
Ursula's breath caught and she could feel the pulsing between her legs that began every time Rose was around. After her initial reaction, she was a bit shocked at Rose's boldness.
"Have you done this before?" she managed to gasp.
"No. Am I doing it wrong?"
Without answering her question, Ursula put her arms around her again and kissed her, languorously. Slowly, she began unfastening Rose's dress. When she'd gotten down to the last one in the long series of passementerie buttons she slipped it off her shoulders and laid her back onto the bed. She hadn't been with anyone since Emily, and hadn't thought she'd be with anyone ever again, but she knew she wanted to see Rose's body, kiss it, caress it, and feel it against her own.
The sun had fully set and the air in the room was thick and heavy, but was cooling from a breeze that had picked up. The candle on the table flickered, casting shadows that constantly danced on the walls.
Ursula's muscles were tight and she could feel the tension as she lifted her arms. It was almost as if her body was fighting against itself, trying to stop itself, even as her arms moved of their own accord. She pulled the dress off and carefully draped it over her blanket chest. Her hand went to the silk ribbon that laced up the front of Rose's bodice and pulled until it came loose. Ursula had been resisting the desire to do this for what seemed like forever, but she couldn't do it any longer. She wanted to see more, feel more, of Rose.
Afraid at first to look Rose in the eyes, she kept her gaze on the bodice as she gently tugged to pull the ribbon free of the loops. When she'd pulled it out of the last holes, she pushed the bodice open. There was only a thin linen chemise covering Rose's breasts. Ursula's breathing grew heavy and she paused. Slowly, she picked up her head and found Rose looking at her.
Rose's eyes were dark, half-hidden by heavy lids. Her fair skin was flushed pink and her breathing quickened when Ursula looked at her. She didn't stop Ursula from doing anything.
Before she went any further, Ursula wanted to be sure that Rose wanted this. The last thing she wanted was for her to feel taken advantage of or abused. She wanted Rose to know that she cared for her deeply, and that what she wanted was not just from physical lust.
"Rose."
"Yes?"
"I want to touch you," she said, expecting to be admonished. Instead, Rose ran her hands through Ursula's hair and stopped on the back of her head. "I want you to touch me," Rose whispered.
The lightheadedness Ursula felt could have been from the fire in her chest and belly or the shock at Rose's response, but either way, it was intoxicating. Lowering her head, she gently kissed Rose between her breasts, then slowly lifted her chemise. When she got it above her breasts, Ursula stopped and stared, mesmerized by the beauty of Rose's body. She was perfect. Her small, pale breasts had a rosy flush to them and her nipples had hardened in anticipation. Ursula let out a sigh and pulled the chemise over her head.
Her face hovered over Rose's as they stared into one another's eyes. She kissed her, slowly, for a long time, before letting her hands begin the journey of exploring Rose's body.
She brushed her fingertips lightly over one nipple, then the other, her belly clenching each time Rose shivered. She wanted to kiss Rose all over her body and feel her soft, velvety skin on her lips. After each caress along her curves, after each kiss to different spots of her shoulders, her breasts, her belly, she expected Rose to protest. Instead, she arched into Ursula's touch and let out sharp little breaths each time Ursula's fingers or lips touched a sensitive spot.
Trembling, Ursula trailed her hand down to Rose's belly and slipped it between her thighs. The sharp gasp told Ursula that she didn't have to stop. She moved her hand back up and pulled on the tie of Rose's bloomers and loosened it. Her heart pounded as she slid her hand beneath the band of the bloomers. Her fingers were on fire and ached to touch Rose. Ursula kissed Rose's neck, chin, and lips as her fingers slid through the curly hair to reach Rose's center. The warm wetness enveloped her fingers.
"Oh," Rose groaned, and it sounded like surprise and pleasure.
Twice Bitten Page 14