Sunset ^beta

‘Nelly Jackson, this is your last warning!’

‘Billiam Blind, I don’t fucking care at this point.’ Nell’s voice shook from the brisk pace at which she walked towards Broadwater Hall.

None of his warnings mattered anymore: she was on a mission.

‘That’s actually... not my name.’

Nell turned her head to look at him, but he wasn’t where she expected him to be, so she spun on the spot in search of him. If anyone in the great house was looking out the window just then, perhaps the sight of her spinning seemingly without reason would lighten whatever dread they felt at the sight of Nell Jackson returning again to the manor, no doubt to kick up another rumpus.

‘Then don’t call me Nelly, ‘cause that ain’t mine.’

Her search ended when she felt the lightest of weights rest upon her shoulder.

‘I’m sorry, Nell,’ he said, sounding genuine. ‘I was just trying to get through to you, but I shouldn’t have resorted to something so –’

‘It’s fine,’ she said quickly, only wanting the conversation to end. ‘Just don’t keep doing it.’

The weight upon her shoulder disappeared as he slowly flew in front of her face. As a peace offering, she held her hand out for him to rest on it. His wee shoes nested between the lines of her palm.

‘Billy, I need to do this.’

‘You’ll be getting more than you asked for,’ he told her, shutting his eyes and shaking his head.

‘Good! Maybe that’s what I want!’ she said, the heat coming back to her voice immediately. ‘I should have asked for more. My dad was worth more than just a pub.’

‘It’s your family’s home.’

‘You think I don’t know that? You think I don’t know I was born and raised in that pub? My mam died there. But these people –’ She turned her scowl upon the big house. ‘– they don’t deserve to be able to sit here comfortably and forget what they’ve done. I’m going in.’

She gently flicked her hand upwards to force Billy back into flight.

‘Oh, this isn’t how any of this is supposed to have gone,’ he said, sounding distracted.

‘If you ain’t gonna tell me what you mean – which you never fucking do! – then just let me go. Look, I didn’t even bring my pistol this time.’

‘I’m glad you listened to that, at least.’

‘I’m going in now.’ She shut her eyes to hide that she had rolled them. ‘You really aren’t coming with me, Billy Blind?’

‘I can’t.’

‘And you won’t tell me why.’

He shrugged helplessly at her.

‘About what I expected,’ she said bitterly.

It had been a couple months since she officially met Billy, and he hadn’t done a whole lot for her other than give her enigmatic hints.

He wouldn’t even help her fight now, ever since she got in an argument with the local baker. She had thought he was trying to cheat her on bread they’d bought for the Talbot – and he was the type to do that, because he’d hated her since she was a child, for reasons she could hardly remember now. Sure, she had gotten in his face at the bakehouse, but it wasn’t as if she knew for certain that he’d give her a whack for it. And maybe she shouldn’t have tried to climb over the counter to get him back, but –

Fuck. She had told Roxy she’d make up with him yesterday.

‘Nell, you’re...’

She lifted her face to look at the pixie again.

He shook his head sympathetically at her and said, ‘I just don’t know how I can get everything back on the right path.’

Nell gave him an empty smile.

‘It sure would help if I knew what you was even talking about.’

‘Yeah,’ he said with a frown, either missing or ignoring the frustration in her tone. ‘It would.’

‘See ya, Billy.’

She was walking away before he could respond. Behind her, she heard what sounded like a flame being snuffed out, and she knew he was gone.

The last time she had shown up at Broadwater Hall, a couple weeks prior, she had taken the front door. The footman had tried to turn her away, but she had simply walked past him when she had seen the murderer himself coming down the stairs. The time before that she had learnt not to bring her pistol, whether it was loaded or not – because all it had done was scare the people she never would have aimed it at, like the servants, or Thomas’s sister Sofia.

Sofia Wilmot was a widow, like herself. Nell didn’t know her story nor care; she didn’t need to, as just the disdainful looks she was always giving Nell was enough proof for her that she was likely just as rotten as her father. The whole family had ice in their blood.

It wasn’t common for Nell to hate anyone; she didn’t take it lightly. There was nothing about hatred that felt good to her. But however much Nell tried to accept the situation – to accept that she sold her father’s memory for a pub – she couldn’t do anything to stop her guilt from growing, and guilt was the only thing that made her feel more helpless than hatred did.

Even the family’s home had a sinister look to it; starting with the outside, but even more-so when you went inside. Everything inside the manor was dark colours and heavy-looking furniture; it all weighed down the environment with gloom – and that was only what you’d find when walking through the front door, which Nell imagined had been done up to be the cheeriest part of the house, lest any guests be rightfully tempted to turn around and leave immediately.

The entrance Nell came through this time, on the other hand, was smaller. She expected that it was used primarily by servants, judging by the simplicity of the corridor that lay beyond.

And this time, rather than coming in shouting and making a scene, Nell walked briskly and silently, determined to find either Lord Blancheford or Thomas. When she reached a more decorated corridor with a staircase, she stopped to try to decide whether or not to open one of the nearby doors to see what kind of room was on the other side.

She heard footsteps coming from the next floor and she made the decision to remain visible, rather than trying to hide. She took a deep breath, standing up straighter, trying to look as if she had every right to be there.

Nell tried to think of what she’d say to whatever unfortunate servant was about to discover her. She hoped, however, that it would be the murderer himself – and that if it was, Billy had only pretended to leave her on her own.

But it was no servant. It wasn’t Lord Blancheford, or his vile son; it was only his daughter.

‘Oh,’ the woman said, looking puzzled; then her expression changed, and Nell could easily see even from down there that the woman had rolled her eyes. ‘It’s you.’

Instead of any of the people Nell actually wanted to see, it was Sofia Wilmot at the top of the staircase, looking down at her like she was nothing. Her status as a widow was made evident by her mourning clothes. The darkness of them made her look like a raven perched up there, and the black feathers on her hair ornament only added to the effect.

‘Why have you come here, Nell Jackson?’ she asked, but in a tone which suggested that no matter how Nell responded, the answer wouldn’t be good enough for her.

‘I wanted to talk.’

‘To whom?’ She sounded formal and disinterested, as if Nell had an appointment for something trivial, but had fucked up and come at the wrong time or on the wrong day. ‘My father?’

Nell watched her as she began to descend the stairs. She was a pretty woman, but the arrogant, disdainful expression she always wore around Nell was more or less enough to spoil the good looks she had. Nell wasn’t even certain she’d ever seen her smile – or show any signs of happiness, really.

‘You know very well why I’m here, Miss Sofia.’

‘No, I do not,’ she said with a shake of her head.

Nell scoffed.

She stopped in front of Nell, but lingered on the last step of the stairs; likely because she was shorter than Nell, otherwise.

‘No, I don’t know why you continue to come back here.’

Neither did Nell – not that she was going to admit it.

Instead, she asked, ‘Where’s your father? I wish to speak with him.’

Sofia openly rolled her eyes, this time.

‘Both he and Thomas –’ She paused knowingly. ‘– are away right now.’

‘Oh, I’m sure Thomas is having a grand time, out there making some girl feel unsafe.’

She caught Sofia pulling a face, a pained look; but her expression returned to disdain so fast, Nell almost missed it.

‘My father is in London. He’ll be back in a few days. Not that you should consider this an invitation for you to come back to bother us.’

‘Bother you!’ Nell scoffed. ‘If your dad had just done his fucking job, I wouldn’t –’

‘You made an agreement,’ Sofia butted in. ‘The case has been closed.’

Nell’s heart twisted painfully at her dismissive words.

‘I am sorry about your father’s death,’ Sofia said carefully. ‘My brother should not have –’

‘Killed my dad?’ Nell asked in an obvious tone. ‘Yeah, he fucking shouldn’t have!’

Sofia’s lips were parted, revealing her gritted teeth.

‘How many other dirty things has your dad covered up?’ Without giving her a chance to respond, Nell sharply said, a little too loudly, ‘Eh? How many?’

Sofia flinched from her half-shout, then looked as if she wanted to reach out and smother her; but she kept her hands to herself, balled into tight fists.

‘And you, well –’ Nell rambled. ‘It isn’t like you’ve ever had to worry about such things, and – Well! You wouldn’t know what it’s like for girls like my sister.’

Sofia’s anger faltered; she looked at Nell in confusion, then anticipation, and finally back to loathing.

‘If you’re going to throw accusations towards me, you ought to at least finish your thoughts, rather than maniacally –’

‘You’re a woman!’ Nell blurted out, then realised she had sort of done the same exact thing Sofia was giving her out over. ‘By which I mean, you – you should fucking care about how he is towards my sister, and Lord-only-knows how many other girls!’

‘Should I?’ Sofia asked coldly. But it was the first time in the conversation she avoided eye contact with Nell. ‘Do not tell me how to be a woman.’

Nell ignored her and continued: ‘And none of us can do anything because he’s our fucking landlord. Or he will be, once your dad’s dead.’

Like mine.

Sofia was looking at where Nell’s arms were crossed over her chest, brow furrowed and expression difficult to read.

‘If Thomas wasn’t your brother, would you want people protecting him from justice?’

‘Thomas is my brother,’ Sofia said, sounding almost unhappy. ‘And my father’s judgement is justice.’

‘No, your father’s judgement is fucking bad and corrupt!’

‘And you accepted it!’ she snapped. ‘You could have turned it down, the money and your irrelevant little pub.’

The way she described the Talbot wasn’t entirely inaccurate, but it still made Nell’s anger flare even hotter.

‘That’s ‘cause it’s our home, you bitch!’

Sofia’s eyes widened. She stepped closer to Nell, close enough for Nell to feel her breath.

‘Call me that again and I will –’

‘Bitch,’ Nell said without hesitation. ‘You’re a selfish bitch.’

‘And what is selfless about coming here week after week –’

‘I’ve only done it three times!’

‘– and scaring our servants –’

‘They ain’t scared of me!’ Nell laughed at the thought. ‘It’s him they’re scared of, I’d wager!’

Sofia paused, looking closely at her, before continuing: ‘– just because you can’t live with a choice you made?’

‘We had no fucking choice, Sofia.’

‘Well, you have a choice now. You could either leave before you degrade yourself further and get yourself in more trouble, or –’

‘More trouble? So I’m in trouble, am I?’

‘Would you stop interrupting me!’

‘No. What trouble am I in, huh? Is this because I beat his sorry –’

‘You’ve invaded our home – again!’ Sofia exclaimed, waving her hands frustratedly for a second before regaining her composure and returning to her stiff, haughty normal posture.

‘Because when I did that,’ Nell continued, as if Sofia hadn’t interrupted her, ‘it was in self-defence! I only did it because he started it! And – and he started to drown me in mud! What if I’d gotten that shite in my lungs? People die from that, and we both fucking know he has no problem with killing –’

She stopped when Sofia reached out to push her lightly out of her way. The touch stunned Nell, and for a moment she stood there, watching Sofia walk past her and away.

‘Come back here!’ Nell said, even though she was already right on Sofia’s heels, close enough to smell her hair. Of course she smelt good – she didn’t do any work, nor did she do anything else that would make her sweat, surely.

‘Just leave,’ Sofia said, sounding tired.

Nell looked down her back and saw that her fists were still balled.

‘No! I haven’t even gotten to –’

‘Leave!’ Sofia cried, and as she did so, she whipped around to face Nell, who walked right into her with enough force that Sofia stumbled backwards.

Although Nell would have loved to see her fall, she reached out on instinct to catch her by her shoulders, then held her until she was steady. Except, then she still kept her hands there, digging her fingers into her sleeves, all-too-conscious of the give of flesh beneath the silk brocade.

It wasn’t a safe position to be in. If a servant had walked in, they might have thought Nell was threatening the lady of the house, and then she would certainly be in trouble. God forbid someone mistake her for a man and shoot her on sight, thinking something else entirely was happening between them. As far as she knew, Billy Blind had meant it when he said he would play no part in her unwelcome visit.

Thankfully, Sofia didn’t look frightened. Actually, she didn’t look nearly as angry as Nell would have expected. Her lips were parted in surprise, but her eyes were softer, more distracted than anything.

‘Leave,’ Sofia repeated, sounding uncertain.

Nell let her hands drop, but before she could even take a step back, Sofia leant in closer.

‘Listen to me,’ she whispered. ‘If you keep showing up here without invitation, there will be consequences, and I won’t be able –’

‘No, you listen! You don’t know what it’s like to have your dad murdered – having his killer get off scot-free, and not even being able to tell anyone...’

Nell stopped when she felt her voice waver. She took a deep breath and steadied herself, because she certainly wasn’t going to start crying in front of the awful woman, if she could help it.

When she opened her eyes again, she could see only the blue of Sofia’s; they looked tired, maybe even sad.

‘Please just leave,’ Sofia sighed.

It wasn’t a good enough response, in Nell’s opinion.

‘Oh, fuck you, So –’

Sofia cut her off, but not in a way she was expecting.

Because suddenly, Nell’s lips were trapped, and there was a warmth spreading across her face. She couldn’t see anything besides a blur that could have been Sofia’s cheek; she was too close for her to see properly. The nice smell she had noticed earlier was all around her now, as inescapable as Sofia’s mouth – that’s to say, Nell needed only to step back to get away from both, but her body felt weighed down by her anger and confusion.

Worse still, she had already started moving her lips against Sofia’s, and it wasn’t to talk or even to stop her. It was just like how she had reached out to keep her from falling; kissing her back was something which had come over her naturally, without thought. Especially without thought.

Sofia’s lips slowed, but she did not pull back.

‘What?’ Nell asked, mostly directed at herself. Because her lips were still touching Sofia’s, the word came out half-formed.

She had never been taken by surprise before by a kiss. The couple of boys who tried when she was young had learnt of her disinterest well before they could reach her mouth. The one time she and Captain Jackson had kissed had been during their marriage ceremony when they eloped, and she had always sort of worried that she had been bad at it, and that’s why he never pushed her very hard for more kisses.

Nell wasn’t accustomed to having her face so near to anyone’s; it had never seemed appealing to her, either. Yet the seconds passed and she did not move. She was close enough to hear Sofia breathing through her nose – shaky breaths, like kissing had interfered with the natural rhythm of her breathing.

Unless that was Nell’s own breath she was hearing. It was hard to tell whose was whose when they were that close.

Her heart sank with dread when Sofia finally pulled back, just barely too far even for Nell to reach her lips without having to noticeably lean in.

Sofia stared at her, looking strained. Then her eyes fluttered shut and she leant back in, ready to kiss her again, but this time it was Nell who pulled her head back, like she had done – just far enough for her to notice, to make her pause.

‘I hate you,’ Nell tried to explain.

Her face was hot with growing embarrassment, or something like it. She didn’t know – she wasn’t all that good with feelings.

‘Likewise,’ came Sofia’s murmur a mere second before she pressed her lips roughly against Nell’s once more. But she pulled away again to say, ‘You need to stop coming here.’

Nell opened her mouth to argue, but Sofia went right back in to kiss her, making it hard to think of a clever retort. She tilted her head to try to focus her thoughts, and even opened her eyes just a peek; Sofia seemed to know how to do it fine even with her eyes closed.

Nell felt stupid and naïve for thinking that first kisses were supposed to be gentle. The only things soft about this one were Sofia’s lips and those little breaths she drew.

She felt Sofia’s hand come up to her shoulder and then creep around behind her neck to draw her in closer; she felt her fingers slip under the neck of her coat and shirt, then her fingernails digging lightly into the skin of her shoulder. The hairs on her arms and the back of her neck stood on end and a little thrill shot down her spine.

Even though she felt like she was probably doing it wrong, Sofia clung to her like letting go would be the death of her.

But she had to let go. They had to stop, because they were in Sofia’s bloody family home with servants who could walk in; they weren’t even in a room with a closed door. For all she knew, the woman’s father or brother could be on their way back, and then she’d be well-fucked.

The thought of being in such a private place with her, however, made Nell shudder, and Sofia seemed to have felt it, because she finally tilted her head back to pull out of the kiss; Nell’s lips were on her chin by the time she realised she had done it, though.

She too pulled back, watching Sofia closely. Her eyes were shut, her brow was furrowed; she looked afraid. As her eyes opened and took in Nell’s face, she smiled – but only for a moment, because then her expression grew serious and the weight of her arm around Nell’s shoulders slid away. She stayed pressed against her, however.

Nell didn’t know what to say. At first she felt like she should apologise, but considering it was Sofia who had kissed her, that felt rather unfair.

The look in Sofia’s eyes was foreign to her; the cold colour of them did nothing to offset the burning focus – or hate, or longing, or whatever it was. Then she looked down between them; Sofia had at some point had taken hold of Nell’s shirt without her noticing.

Sofia finally stepped away from her, but her grip on Nell’s shirt was still tight; her eyes lifted from where her fingers were tangled with the linen, and met Nell’s – which reminded Nell that she ought to be glaring at her, not standing there looking dotty.

‘Come,’ Sofia instructed.

She had a lot of nerve, trying to give her an order.

Except it was her house. Nell had barged in, and would have been thrown out – at the least – had she ran into anyone else besides Sofia – who should have called for a servant to throw her out, but hadn’t.

It was hard to determine what she wanted from her by her expression – other than for her to obey, to let her take her wherever it was she intended to take her, to do whatever she – That part, Nell refused to put any thought into.

Nell’s glare was met only with silence; with Sofia’s refusal to say the word again, an expression of contempt and eyes that pleaded. The pride and fear on her face fought for control as Nell allowed Sofia pull her along by the neck of her shirt, enthralled as a siren’s sailor.

Sofia didn’t let go of her even to climb the stairs properly, going up sideways instead. Out of the corner of her eye, Nell could see her tight grip on the railing. She waited until they were at the top of the stairs to try to bat Sofia’s hand away, but she only clung harder.

Finally, Sofia broke their eye contact, so she could see where she was leading Nell, who was little more than a dog on a leash. She stared vacantly at the back of her head, her mind foggy and her lips tingling. She knew that wherever Sofia was leading her and no matter what she intended to do, there was nothing good that could come out of it – not in the long run, anyway.

But she let Sofia take her all the way down the corridor and let her pull her inside a room.

It didn’t take much looking around for Nell to see that it was, as she had hoped – fuck, no, feared – the room of a lady. More than anything else, Nell was aware of the bed: a four-poster just as fancy as would be expected from a family as rich as the Blanchefords. The rest of the room was just as opulent, and it had everything Nell could imagine a lady like Sofia could ever want.

Nell didn’t belong in such a room.

‘Yeah, this ain’t what I came here for, Sofia.’

‘Of course not,’ she said impatiently, stepping in close to Nell so she could reach over her shoulder to push the door shut behind them. Sofia’s mouth was near her ear when she whispered, ‘You came to once again harass my family.’

Nell nodded slowly. The hand on her shirt loosened, then was pulled away, leaving the linen wrinkled. Even if she was hardly fussed about her clothes, she still reached up to smooth it down, if only as a small form of insult.

‘Maybe I just don’t agree with your father’s idea of –’

She faltered when Sofia pushed her hand aside and rested her own palm against the centre of her chest.

‘– justice,’ she finished weakly.

‘You knew what it meant to accept the bribe.’

‘Look at you,’ Nell said in a low voice, ‘able to call it what it is. I suppose you’re the smart one in the family.’

Sofia’s smile was bitter and fleeting, quickly replaced with a calculating look. She stared at Nell’s mouth as if it was a puzzle to be solved. Nell took too long to come up with something else biting to say and found her mouth stopped up with kisses once more. She hadn’t known she was leaning backwards until she felt the door against her back.

Nell didn’t even know she could kiss anyone in such a way. Perhaps Sofia was doing most of the work – maybe that’s why Nell had gotten so close to her, to allow her to lead; but she was surely closer than was necessary – definitely closer than was decent for a pair of women. And of all the women in the world Nell could be allowing to kiss her, it was the awful sister of her father’s murderer.

It was that thought which finally brought Nell to her senses.

She turned her head to pull out of the kiss – felt Sofia’s lips move to her cheek, then down to her neck – so she could gasp for breath and ask herself, ‘Lord, what am I doing?’

So close to her ear, she heard Sofia’s breath catch; the warmth of her mouth faded from her neck.

‘Don’t,’ she said in a hurry. She lowered her voice even further: ‘Stay.’

‘Why should I?’ she asked incredulously.

Rather than answer her, Sofia whispered, ‘Please. Don’t go.’

Nell felt Sofia’s lips brush against her ear. It made her shudder, but not in the way it should have, considering who it was. She still had her head turned and her eyes shut, but that didn’t deter Sofia. It seemed that Nell’s cheek, jaw, neck, and ear were more than enough to keep her busy.

And Nell didn’t mean to do it, but she leant into the unfamiliar touch of the unkind woman. She tilted her head back and allowed her to press her face against her throat. Every inch of Nell’s skin that her lips touched seemed to come alive.

She gave in once more.

Trapping the woman’s face between her hands, Nell took a moment to stare at her wide-eyed expression before kissing her again – this time without holding back.

Sofia’s hands had slipped beneath Nell’s coat again, wrapping around her waist to draw her closer, until they were flush against one another – but being that close, feeling Sofia trying to get even closer to her – Nell’s back hitting the door they had rushed in through –

When Nell’s head knocked against the wood, Sofia didn’t even seem to notice; even when a dazed laugh spilt from between her lips and onto Sofia’s, the woman showed no signs of letting up.

One of Sofia’s hands circled back around to Nell’s front, travelling upwards and resting upon her breast. Nell’s eyes shot open when she felt the hand doing a little more than resting upon it. Her kissing grew clumsy when the hand curved around it, cupping it through the linen.

She wanted to do the same to her, but there was far too much clothing in the way for either of them to be able to feel much of anything; so instead, she began to feel her way down from the woman’s jaw and started to try to loosen her collar.

That was all the invitation Sofia needed, apparently, because next thing she knew, the woman was trying to push the coat off Nell’s shoulders.

They had both stopped kissing due to the common want to see what their hands were doing. Sofia’s task was much easier; neither Nell’s coat nor her waistcoat were buttoned shut, so it was only a matter of shoving them over her shoulders to get them off.

Because they were in her way, Sofia pushed aside Nell’s hands from where they were still working on opening up her collar. Nell held them up in an annoyed surrender, but Sofia ignored her huff.

‘Gentlewoman, my arse,’ she muttered as Sofia’s hands moved over her in a not-so-gentle hurry, trying to pull Nell’s shirt loose from her breeches.

‘Why do you wear men’s clothes?’

Nell’s response died in her throat as she felt Sofia’s chilly fingers creeping upwards upon her stomach. The way the woman’s eyes shut when her hands reached her breasts was nearly reverent in such a way that Nell wanted to laugh at her.

‘What do you gain by doing so?’ Sofia’s voice was low, distracted.

‘Nothing,’ Nell admitted, tilting her head back to allow Sofia the space to start kissing her neck again.

‘Then why?’ came Sofia’s muffled question.

‘Because it –’ She faltered, struggling to focus. ‘– it feels good.’

Even if she was only answering the question – rather inarticulately – it felt wrong to say those words while Sofia’s hands caressed her under her shirt, and especially when her mouth was pressed a little too hard against her throat.

‘Fuck, don’t bite me!’ she said impatiently, leaning back to put distance between her throat and Sofia’s teeth.

‘I’m not,’ Sofia said, shaking her head hastily and leaning in to pursue her.

‘You fucking liar.’

Calling her that – getting only a moan as a response, as if it was merely a strange type of sweet talk – reminded Nell again of who it was that she was dealing with.

Even as the shame and anger began to rise once more, the way Sofia’s thumbs swept over her breasts, and her lips – rather more gently now, and with no teeth – traced over her jugular vein, kept the dark emotions from bubbling over. She allowed her eyes to shut – let herself enjoy it, even as Sofia’s hands slid back down her body to begin to unfasten her breeches.

Nell had never been dressed or undressed by anyone while in men’s clothes. Even back when she only wore dresses, she preferred to do it herself. It was strange, having another person’s hands upon her, stripping her.

The buttons were easy to undo and the heaviness of the red breeches made them sink to the floor.

‘Ah, fuck,’ Nell said, leaning forward to look down past the front of her long shirt to where they had fallen around her ankles. ‘Should’ve taken my boots off first.’

To her astonishment, Sofia dropped down in front of her, reaching to find said boots, which were buried somewhere beneath the bunched breeches.

‘Bet you’ve never had to undress anyone before.’ Nell had already finished the sentence by the time she remembered that the woman had been married, and thus Sofia probably had more experience with it than she did.

‘And I don’t have to now, either,’ Sofia pointedly said, sneering up at her. Even if she was on the floor, hand on Nell’s boot, she looked nothing like a servant.

One came off, then the other, allowing Nell to step out of her breeches. Even though her shirt was still on, she felt very bare.

She tried to be courteous by offering a hand to help Sofia up off the floor, which she took – but the moment she was back on her feet, she was already attacking Nell again with more kisses, and was in such a hurry to get Nell’s shirt off, it made her want to slap the woman’s grabbing hands away from her; instead, she resorted to holding her too tightly for her to be able to make any progress.

During the whole process, they had been wandering about the room. When one would push forward, the other drew back; then, other times, they’d both move forward, kissing furiously until the other would give in. Nell had to remind herself that it wasn’t a fight, and that Sofia’s room was not a battlefield. It wasn’t exactly as if she feared her, even knowing what she and her family were capable of doing to get their ways.

None of it could stop her from wanting her, in that moment.

When Sofia began to pull back, she clung to her, willing for her to stay there in her arms. It was only once she felt the upwards tugging of her shirt that she realised Sofia was only trying to finish undressing her.

Nell scrambled to pull her shirt up over her head. The second the bunched linen passed over her face, Sofia’s lips were already back upon hers.

‘Wait,’ she barely managed to get out. ‘Sofia, fuck, just –’

The woman took a step back, looking breathless.

‘It ain’t fair if I’m the only one naked,’ Nell pointed out, trying not to sound too irritated by her aggressiveness, since it was rather flattering.

She pushed Sofia’s hands out of the way so she could start to undress her in turn. It was unnerving, being stark naked in front of someone who – other than looking a little ruffled and with pinker-than-normal lips – was fully-clothed.

The necklace went first, as the last thing Nell wanted to do was damage it somehow. She draped it carefully over the arm of a nearby chair, where it hopefully wouldn’t get lost.

Sofia’s attire was neatly-fitted, so where one piece began and the other ended was hard to tell, because just about all of it was black; and it was this, combined with her nervousness, which made her struggle a little at first.

‘Be careful,’ Sofia hissed when she exploratorily poked a finger beneath the collar, perhaps jabbing her a little.

‘I am being careful!’ she grunted. ‘I’m not some bumbling idiot.’

Nell lifted her gaze to Sofia’s eyes, warning her not to suggest otherwise.

Sofia’s only response was to reach up to guide Nell’s hand to where it needed to go to unfasten the pieces that made up her dress. With each pin undone, the woman’s clothes became looser; they began shifting over her body under Nell’s roaming touch, like loose tree bark. The belt came off, the mantua and the stomacher parted, and in no time at all, she was down to only her stays and shift.

Nell stepped back to smile at her accomplishment, but ended up frowning down at Sofia’s legs.

‘Hold on. Where did your shoes go? Where are your stockings?’

The woman stared at her in confusion.

‘How did you not notice me taking them off?’

Rather than answer the embarrassing question, Nell just shook her head and reached out to turn Sofia around to unlace her stays. Her hands were still shaking, this time with eagerness. Her breath stirred the small undone hairs above the back of Sofia’s neck.

When the stays were off, she walked around to Sofia’s front, reaching to undo the laces at the neck of her shift. Nell couldn’t help but look right past the finely-made garment to the form underneath – in large part because it was difficult not to notice how the thin textile did very little to hide the lines, contours, and shadows of the body beneath.

Although Nell could see hen-flesh high upon Sofia’s chest, just over where her own hands were struggling embarrassingly with the simple laces at the collar, the way Sofia’s eyes were shut did not appear to be from self-consciousness. It made sense: a lady like Sofia was far more used to being seen in such a way than Nell was. She almost appeared to be enjoying it, judging by the way her hands, which loosely held Nell’s wrists, rubbed little circles against her skin. It made the hair on Nell’s arms stand on end.

Nell flinched in surprise when Sofia raised her arms, before she realised it was to allow Nell to remove the shift by lifting it over her head. Other than whose face was revealed when it was fully pulled off, it was exactly like she had sometimes found herself imagining on lonely nights, years back. Any time spent thinking about such things had been too much, she had felt, but now, she was not so certain.

‘Lord, she really is pale,’ Nell thought, once she was unveiled.

Pale or not, there she was: pretty as a painting.

‘Do not leer at me so.’

‘I’m not. I wasn’t,’ she claimed, trying to meet her eyes. Reluctantly, she finished with, ‘I’m sorry.’

‘No, you aren’t,’ Sofia muttered as she pressed herself against Nell, who rolled her eyes at the unnecessary challenge to her apology.

‘I don’t know what you want from me,’ she sighed.

‘Yes, you do,’ she whispered against Nell’s cheek.

‘I meant –’

Her nails slightly dug into Nell’s shoulder.

‘Be quiet.’

The urge to continue quarreling was killed when Sofia’s lips touched her earlobe, leaving her feeling disarmed and distracted. She never would have thought such a thing would feel good. The awkwardness of standing there naked in the centre of a bedroom within her enemy’s home faded as Sofia’s hands swept over her.

‘Wait,’ Sofia said.

Nell allowed it when Sofia pulled away again, and stood there rubbing her ear as she watched Sofia reach up to take out her earrings.

Unlike the undressing before it, it was something that could only be done carefully. It made everything slow down and feel real again.

Nell hurried to pull her own earring out, but found that it wasn’t there; she quickly tried her other ear, although she could have sworn she had put it in her left ear that morning.

‘I took it out already,’ Sofia explained, after watching Nell make a fool of herself for several seconds; she had been reaching from ear to ear and back again, as if it would suddenly reveal itself.

‘When the fuck did you do that?’

Sofia frowned at her as she finished taking out her own, then held out her hand, where there were three earrings in her palm.

‘Just now,’ she said slowly, as if Nell was stupid, ‘while I was kissing your other earlobe.’

‘Huh,’ Nell said, staring at the little gold earring nestled between the longer silver ones that had been dangling from Sofia’s ears a moment before. She returned to rubbing at her earlobe as she watched Sofia set the jewellery down upon the armchair, near the bracelets and rings she had taken off her before.

It shocked Nell a little whenever Sofia came back to kiss her again – because she did it with such intensity, every single time. Within seconds, she’d find herself moulding to Sofia’s body, mindlessly matching her fervour. The moment their lips connected, the wrongness of it all faded and made it tolerable – enjoyable.

Still, Nell hated that she was being grabbed the way she was by Sofia, at the hip and tightly around the waist. Specifically, she hated that it felt good that the woman wanted to hold her – especially with such urgency. When Nell squirmed against her grip – trying to figure out what to do with her body, rather than trying to get away – Sofia only clung harder.

Sofia’s head dipped and Nell felt her face heavy upon her breast; she felt the pressure of Sofia’s mouth upon it; she felt the tension in the muscles of Sofia’s back disappear, as if having her mouth there brought her peace.

Nell forced her eyes open. She kept thinking that the sight of who it was would shock her out of it, bring her reasoning back, remind her that she was doing perhaps the stupidest thing she had ever done in her life.

‘Fuck,’ was instead the only thing that came out of her at the sight of Sofia Wilmot’s mouth upon her breast. Even worse, the dragged-out, longing way she had said the word made it sound like approval, and that just spurred Sofia on.

She wanted something to do with her hands. Sofia froze when Nell touched her hair, slowly taking apart the hard work of whatever servant who had been stuck fashioning it that morning. The black feathered ornament was stripped away with only enough care to not cause pain or damage. When it was free, Nell tossed it towards the toilet table and smiled to herself when it landed neatly in the centre – not even bouncing off the mirror. She half-expected Sofia to chastise her for throwing it, but the woman was still stiff, face ducked against Nell's chest.

Without thinking much about it, Nell ran her hands through her hair, ruining the carefully-crafted curls that had – if she had to guess, going by the texture – only been done hours before. She felt a little bad for ruining the fine work of whoever had done it, but she wanted to see what Sofia looked like with it down; she wanted to see how it would frame her face, how it would sit upon her bare shoulders – shoulders which slowly began to relax again as Nell unravelled it, freeing her from the last remnants of anything that could qualify as her being dressed.

It made Nell smile, thinking about how difficult it would be for Sofia to come up with an excuse as to how and why she’d made such a mess of her hair.

But then something odd happened: Inexplicably, Sofia lowered herself onto her knees in front of Nell.

It wasn’t something Nell was prepared for at all, and she wasn’t sure how to respond; the idea of getting on the floor with her when there was a perfectly-good bed just there seemed absurd.

Yet Sofia seemed to have gotten it in her head that it was a good idea, and all Nell could do was watch as the woman shifted to get closer to her. Her hands came up to touch the sides of Nell’s thighs, sliding around to the back of them. She watched Sofia lean towards her, felt her lips press against her lower thigh – felt them travelling upwards – and that was enough to finally give her pause.

‘What the hell are you doing now?’ Nell asked, trying to disguise her nerves with impatience; trying to resist the urge to back away, put some distance between Sofia’s mouth and that part of her.

Sofia lifted her face to look up at her in apparent mortification.

‘Why are you down there? Get off the floor!’

‘I thought...’ she said weakly.

‘Come on, stop fucking around.’

Sofia looked confused as she stood back up – hurt, even.

‘I had thought...’ Sofia whispered, covering her face with her hands.

It was like she thought Nell was rejecting her.

Nell reached out to take Sofia’s hands off her face, revealing pink-tinged cheeks: evidence that she really did have blood underneath all the paleness.

‘Hey,’ Nell said to get Sofia to open her eyes again and look at her. She tried for a more gentle tone: ‘We doing this or not?’ Nell gestured towards the bed as an explanation.

Instead of looking too closely at Sofia’s face while awaiting her response, she stared down at the woman’s hands, which she hadn’t yet let go. They had a delicate look to them, all dainty and with tidy nails. The only callouses she had were on the right hand, on the side of her middle finger, and opposite the thumb – which suggested the hardest work she ever did with them was hold a pen, but that she did so often.

Nell was so busy staring at Sofia’s hands that she was taken by surprise when the woman stepped in closer, pulling one hand free from her light grip and using it to draw Nell’s face in for yet another kiss. Sofia drew one of Nell’s hands closer, spreading its fingers and guiding it to her breast. When she went to grab her other hand, Nell stopped her.

‘Am I not allowed to decide what I want to do with my own hands?’

Sofia looked up at her as if dazed; then she blinked, looked down at where Nell’s hand still held her breast. Nell could feel the woman’s rapid respiration beneath her palm.

‘Stay.’

It was as if she expected Nell was about to leave her, just because she had challenged her.

This time, Nell allowed her to take her other hand, which she raised to her cheek, holding it hard enough there that Nell could easily feel the bones in the woman’s pretty face.

‘You’re sure that nobody’s going to...’ Nell trailed off before looking back at the door.

‘I’m the only one home right now.’

‘What?’ she asked, looking down at her in disbelief. ‘Where are your servants?’

‘Oh. I was not counting them.’

And that was what reminded Nell of exactly who she was dealing with: a spoilt toff who didn’t even think her servants counted as people.

‘Of course they wouldn’t count to you. Why would they?’

Sofia gripped her tighter around the waist, preventing her from moving away from her.

‘You don’t know me.’

Even if it was true, it still made Nell laugh, because she was currently closer to the woman physically than she had ever been with anyone else since she was born.

‘Saying shite like that ain’t giving a good impression, Wilmot.’

She felt Sofia shiver at the usage of her surname. Then the lady turned her head as if to bury her face in Nell’s palm.

‘But I suppose that’s what I should’ve expected,’ Nell said quietly, ‘given how you were raised.’

Sofia finally opened her eyes again and looked at her, but clutched the hand to her face even harder.

‘It’s too late.’ Her voice was in monotone. ‘You must understand that you won’t be able to do anything here that will make right what my family has done.’

‘Your fucking family –’

She wrested her hand free of Sofia’s grip, took the other away from her cold chest, and stepped back – but in doing so, she found that they had wandered so close to the bed that she was trapped between the edge of the mattress and a wild-eyed, naked Sofia Wilmot.

‘Oh, fuck, Lord,’ Nell muttered as she felt herself tipping backwards and could do nothing but turn her landing into her taking a seat upon the bed. When she looked again at Sofia’s intense expression, she simply finished with, ‘Shit.’

Nell waited. For all her heated words, she had not been moving away from her with any intent to leave.

‘You’ve made your bed...’ Sofia said without much confidence, stepping closer to her.

‘Oh, surely you’re not about to –’

Nell’s back hit the bed and the realisation of what was happening took the words right out of her. She quickly moved before Sofia could climb atop her, much to the woman’s apparent disappointment. Good.

Nell almost expected Sofia to draw shut the bed’s curtains to give them privacy, but they were left open. Instead, Sofia climbed into the bed, facing her, and Nell met her with as much stoicism as she could manage. It lasted all of five seconds before Sofia closed the distance, pulling her in by the head to kiss her.

Sofia again tried to move so that Nell was on her back, but Nell was stronger than her – even without Billy’s help – which she demonstrated by rolling atop Sofia, putting the woman on her back.

She heard her groan, but it didn’t sound angry or even disappointed. Nell herself couldn’t help but laugh a little at the thrill of it all – of being able to feel someone warm and alive beneath her. 

Every time their lips met, it seemed as if the two of them fit together a little more naturally. Nell adjusted herself so she’d be putting less pressure on her; Sofia pulled Nell down harder upon her to undo her progress. While it seemed like they were at odds, it only served to draw them nearer.

‘Fuck,’ Nell whispered when Sofia raised her hips to press them to hers.

It was just enough contact to make her feel strange, to give her pause. It made her lift her face away from hers. The woman watched her intently as she raised her hips to Nell’s again, as if trying to communicate something. Nell’s eyes shut as the light pressure resulted in an undue amount of sensation; although nothing made direct contact, the proximity was enough to make her feel very warm and agitated.

‘I want to do more than kiss you.’

‘Ah,’ was Nell’s faint response to the woman’s bold words.

‘Please,’ she said, grimacing as though the word pained her to say it.

‘Right.’

‘Don’t tell anyone,’ Sofia whispered, her tone suddenly changing; she had evidently mistaken Nell’s disoriented, lacklustre responses as hesitation. ‘If you tell, I’ll...’

‘You’ll what?’

The panic on Sofia’s face solidified once more into anger.

‘You will tell no one about this. Nobody can know what we’ve done.’

‘Yeah, yeah. You ain’t the only one with a reputation to uphold.’

She pushed up against Nell, and this time, Nell leant right back into her: an agreement to continue which made Nell’s body ache with relief.

Sofia’s grip on her was fierce. One moment she was holding her just far enough away by the upper arms that their chests weren’t touching; then in the next, she was holding Nell against her as if trying to crush her and rising up against her chest to get rid of any space between their bodies. But it did not matter whether she was being held at bay and glared up at or else clutched tightly and kissed until breathless, Nell could do little but marvel at how alive she was beneath her – at how much she wanted her, in spite of the inescapable rage embedded in their every touch.

Still, she grew tired of Sofia’s indecisiveness, and finally pushed herself upright just enough so that she could pin her down by the shoulders upon the mattress.

Sofia looked frightened.

Nell was frightened, too, but she did her best to hide it, even if it meant glaring down at her.

She felt Sofia’s hands raise to her ribs – felt them shaking – felt her dig her nails lightly into her skin as if she was trying to stop the shaking. Nell tried not to squirm with the dread that came from having such a vulnerable spot of her touched – especially by Sofia Wilmot, a woman who had made vague threats to her between all the kisses which led up to where they were now.

Nell felt certain that Sofia’s threats were genuine; that if it came down to it, she’d do whatever she thought was necessary to save her own skin.

But at that point, Nell didn’t care. It was enough for her that they were both guilty, and growing more so by the second with every rough kiss and stifled moan. If Nell was a sinner, at least she still somehow managed to find another like her – even if it being Sofia was rather unfortunate.

It was a relief, in a way, to know that Sofia likely hated her too much to want to hear anything sweet from Nell, because trying to come up with anything complimentary for her in that moment would have been impossible. Sure, she could tell her she was pretty, but a woman like her probably was told that all the time, anyway.

Nell didn’t know what she was doing – on so many levels. She knew she shouldn’t have allowed Sofia to bring her to her room, never mind let her undress her – undress Sofia in turn – or even kiss her in the first place downstairs. Nell also knew that her lack of experience would soon become apparent, if it wasn’t already.

And as if she knew – as if she could tell that Nell was uncertain of how they could progress beyond kissing, beyond the desperate pressing of flesh to flesh – Sofia pulled a hand away from Nell’s side and – after pushing Nell upwards again to allow some room – took it from under her, snaking it around her shoulders and drawing Nell’s face down to her collarbone. Nell’s eyes shut contentedly as she rubbed her lips along it and pressed her mouth to the hollow where the two sides of it joined; she felt the vibration of Sofia’s moan stronger than ever.

Then she felt Sofia pressing again at her head, directing her face downwards. Nell went lax as she allowed it, feeling like she was drowning in the blissful sensation of the soft skin passing under her face as she was brought down to her breasts. She took too long to pick a side, so Sofia decided for her. It took Nell a moment to remember how to do anything but smile gayly. Then she put her mouth to work to keep from grinning or laughing or any of the myriad of other things inappropriate for the moment.

She felt pressure on her scalp, and thought it was Sofia pulling her hair, just to be a bitch – but then she felt her hair loosen and realised that she was only untying it. Fair enough, considering what she had done to Sofia’s hair before.

When Nell tried to look up at her face, Sofia pressed at her head to keep her where she was.

‘Stop that,’ Nell mumbled as she tried again to lift her face from Sofia’s breast. ‘If you want me to do something, you’re not going to get your way by shoving my face around.’

She felt Sofia’s hands retract, leaving her free to pull her face away. Her anger faded fast at the sight of her tense expression and she went back up to her face. Whether Sofia deserved an apology for her harsh tone or not, Nell didn’t mind her kiss being taken as one.

Then Sofia’s hand slid slowly down her stomach, palm up and fingers first. Nell tensed, waiting for it to reach her thighs – for her to reach between them.

It made Nell laugh nervously – not out of discomfort, as Sofia likely believed, but because she was stunned that she hadn’t thought of it; she had been too flustered by every step of the strange dance which had led them to the moment.

She felt Sofia’s fingers fondle the hair there, much like she had done with the hair at the back of Nell’s head minutes before. Though she was in too deep – though her shallow breaths had already betrayed her – Nell waited, wanting, unwilling to ask.

Sofia was taking too damn long. Whether it was fear or because she took pleasure in making her wait, Nell tired of it quickly. She had come too far to be stuck there, awkwardly holding herself over Sofia’s reclined form, waiting for her to make her next move.

She summoned her courage and reached between them past Sofia’s abdomen until she arrived at where the woman’s dark curls lay. She somewhat wished she had spent more time looking down at that part of her when they were standing.

Unlike Sofia, she didn’t hesitate to press the tips of her fingers past the hair and into the shallow warmth that lay beyond.

Nell smiled to herself when Sofia’s breath caught, then became a breathy moan. Nell did like her voice. For all the faults and unpleasantness she could find or imagine she saw in Sofia Wilmot, she would be lying if she said she didn’t have a lovely voice.

She tried to think of something goading to say, but her mind went empty when Sofia followed her example.

Now she understood why Sofia’s breathing had faltered. Nell averted her rapidly blinking eyes when she caught the way she was being stared up at by Sofia; in those eyes, she finally saw for herself evidence that women’s lust truly did exist – and that it was fucking beautiful.

The arm she was using to hold herself up wobbled as her fingers pressed hard enough into the blanket near Sofia’s arm that it caused her knuckles to ache. She thought she heard herself say ‘fuck’ under her breath, but she was too distracted to be certain.

‘Have you...’ Sofia began to ask.

‘What?’ Nell blurted, caught off her guard by the woman’s voice.

Sofia didn’t answer. Nell didn’t want to know what she was going to ask; she didn’t want to think about what she was doing, or what Sofia was doing, or anything. She ducked her face back to Sofia’s and kissed away any further conversation.

It was only a short time before she began to grow unsteady, half-dizzy from the feeling created by Sofia’s stroking fingers. She lowered herself upon her, trapping Sofia’s arm between them – preventing her from being able to pull her hand away. Something had come over her, and it was as if all she could do was desperately move against her hand; she didn’t try to match the rhythm of her rubbing fingers, as such control over her own body was beyond her; she could only huff and hold her and wonder how any of it could possibly end.

No longer did it matter whose hand it was which was bringing her to the precipice. She couldn’t be bothered with the fact that it was her face she was kissing and struggling for breath against. Whose voice she heard behind the whimpers, whose chest rose against her with sharp and strained breaths – she didn’t give a damn, even though it all belonged to the woman who was complicit in the orphaning of her family.

Then it all reached a point where it felt as if she had shattered; like the broken pieces of her came between the two of them like shards of glass, and while she felt faintly sorry for grinding them into Sofia’s skin, she couldn’t have stopped even if she tried.

She groaned loudly without meaning to and quickly buried her face in Sofia’s neck to smother it – to try to stifle any subsequent sounds. If she hadn’t known better, she’d have thought herself to be in pain. Her mouth opened as her face screwed up again, and she could feel Sofia’s skin against her teeth; she could feel Sofia’s neck being pressed right back against her, as though she was trying to be bitten.

But Nell didn’t want to hurt her, even if she did hate her; and as she lay there upon her, tensed and still shaking, she wanted only to thank her.

She wanted to break down and tell this undeserving woman everything: about how she had thought for years that she was the only one; about how her marriage had been a farce, only done so she could escape Tottenham.

If she lifted her mouth from Sofia’s neck, Nell feared she’d start running her mouth and saying things she never wanted to be known: like that she knew from the beginning that she would never love Captain Jackson like that, no matter how much time he gave her. If she wasn’t careful, words would pour out onto Sofia’s kiss-bruised neck: ones about how she knew what it was like to keep a secret, and how no matter what threats they might make at each other in the minutes to come, she’d sooner die than admit to having ever done with her what she was doing now. It was a secret that could die with them in that bed, if Sofia didn’t fuck it up.

Nell felt like she must have been bleeding, on account of the lightness in her skull; that drained feeling after a seemingly-endless nosebleed. Sofia could have stabbed her while it had all been happening and Nell doubted she would have noticed. She felt dangerously disoriented.

She felt understood.

She still wanted to thank her, and the best way she felt she could do it – the safest way she could think to do it; as in, the way which gave the least of herself away – was to start moving her hand again, to do for Sofia what she had just done for her.

Sofia’s response was immediate; she raised her hips greedily, leaning into Nell’s touch.

The hand she had between Sofia’s legs was wet, but with something stickier than water. Nell couldn’t help but think of blood, after spending years of her life with the army. A fucked up half-finished thought ran through her mind: an open bullet wound. The gory sight would still be easier for her to look directly at than the part of the woman’s body her hand was touching.

Sofia didn’t need to know that her mind had turned to such a dark place. The woman was of a world far beyond things such as fatal wounds on war-torn battlefields. Being pretty was enough, surely, in the world in which Sofia had always lived. And she was pretty – far and beyond what she needed to be, without a doubt. Why else would it be that there was nowhere else Nell wanted to look, and no sounds she wanted to hear but the ones which came from her?

But Nell began to imagine that voice laughing instead of moaning – laughing at her family’s expense. Laughing at the poor, stupid Trotters who took the bribe. The foolish family of bumpkins who sold their father’s honour for a little pub in a little village full of people who would make nothing of themselves and be forgotten as soon as they died, and whose reputations wouldn’t matter past their last breaths.

Sofia was breathing hard, trembling beneath her and gripping at her tightly enough that Nell wouldn’t be surprised if she found bruises on her later.

She was looking at a woman who would destroy her life in the quickest of heartbeats if she thought it would keep her family’s reputation from becoming tarnished.

But Nell wanted to see what her hands could do to a woman, even if that woman was Sofia Wilmot.

Nell tried a sort of swirling motion, using the pads of her fingers. It made Sofia’s involuntary jerks even more erratic, particularly when she passed over a specific spot, so she tightened the circular motion to direct her attention there. Her wrist hurt somewhat from the angle she needed to hold her hand at, but it was well worth it to watch Sofia Wilmot slowly come undone.

It was easier to notice the details in everything that was going on now that she wasn’t the one it was being done to.

Even if it was fucking Sofia Wilmot, Nell still couldn’t help but savour every little whimper she elicited. She watched in amusement as the tiny muscles of her face moved, her expressions shifting as she became progressively more tightly-wound. The sight made Nell want to kiss her again, but she feared getting any closer would break what appeared to be concentration.

In that moment, Nell was able to forget everything she knew about Sofia. Like that she was frigid; something unimaginable as Nell’s sliding fingers were presently being warmed by her. Or that she was selfish – because she seemed to be trying to reciprocate by moving her fingers against Nell again, as if she didn’t realise she had already done enough for her.

Nell would never have guessed that the woman despised her, just then, if she was judging it by the way she clung to her, which was as if she was unsatisfied with anything but a nearness to Nell’s body which was physically impossible.

And within that fragile moment, Nell didn’t despise her, either. It was too hard to hate her when she was looking up at Nell so sweetly through half-shut eyes, liquid blue like thawing ice. She simply couldn’t hate her while she watched the smile form on her face as she cried out, all while tilting her head back into the pillow and making a mess of her own hair.

Beneath her fingers, Nell could feel Sofia’s shiver running through her body. Her own insides ached pleasurably as she watched so many emotions pass over her face.

She could have sworn she heard her say the word ‘fuck’, softer than a whisper, yet still so unbefitting for a lady. As tempted as she was to say it back to draw attention to it, Nell instead only chuckled.

Sofia began to grow limp. The hand that had been gripping Nell’s shoulder fell away, flopping against the pillow beside her head; the other hand stayed where it had been on Nell all along, but no longer was Sofia applying any pressure or moving it. Tendrils of her dark hair stuck to her cheeks, which Nell didn’t dare reach up to brush away, even though she wanted to. There were tiny tears on her eyelashes, likely from shutting her eyes so hard. Her breath came upon Nell’s face, and she breathed it in without hesitation.

Her face was far too close, and it had been Nell who had let it happen. She wanted to lean in and kiss her again, more softly than any of the times before, but the idea of it seemed wrong – as if what they had done wasn’t already wrong – so she instead just hovered over her, staring at a woman she knew she could never again want after she left.

Even though Nell had gone still, Sofia’s fingers had begun to slowly move again – and it was as if she was using them to ask the questions that neither wanted to ask aloud because they were afraid of the answers.

What just happened? What does this mean? Can I still hate you after this?

No matter how gentle her fingers were against her, it was overly-stimulating  – nearly painful – and Nell sought to detach herself from Sofia. She clambered off of her to try to get away, only to collapse upon the mattress at her side – a runaway soldier taken down by blood loss before he could get to safety.

Her face was pressed into a pillow that smelt strongly of Sofia’s hair – a scent she couldn’t remember ever so much as wondering about, but which she now knew all-too-well. She didn’t want to breathe it in – didn’t want to become even more intimately familiar with her scent – but it was impossible to avoid when she was still trying to catch her breath.

‘Oh, God.’

The horrified whisper coming from beside her almost made Nell laugh, but Sofia’s next words made her angry.

‘I can give you a pound if you don’t tell anyone.’

‘Excuse me?’

Nell lifted her head from the pillow to look at her. Sofia’s hands were covering her face.

‘You can have a pound, along with my promise not to ever speak of this again.’

‘I’m not a –’ Nell blinked. ‘What is with your family and trying to throw money at problems?’

Sofia didn’t answer, and Nell’s anger faded quickly and she slumped back against the pillow.

The rise and fall of Sofia’s chest was uneven, suggesting she might have been close to crying. Nell’s own breathing was shallow, but only because she was on her stomach. Nell stared at her chest from where she had her head upon the pillow. Her mind was empty and she felt strangely peaceful.

She watched her breathing slow and become steady. It was easier to look at her chest than her eyes, as those eyes – though not teary – had become soft in such a way that it only made her feel more like she didn’t belong there at her side.

She had already stayed far too long. Worse still, she had allowed herself to relax in a way that nobody ever ought to while in enemy territory.

Abruptly, Nell pushed herself up from the mattress and shuffled to the edge of the bed. When she stood up, she swayed a little, as if boarding a ship.

‘Don’t go.’

Nell whipped around to stare at her as if she was mad.

‘I’m not fucking sleeping here! Besides, I’ve things to do, people to –’ She didn’t want to say the word ‘serve’ lest the woman who tried to pay her get the wrong impression. ‘Not all of us spend our days idly.’

It was a relief, upon looking at her again, to see that Sofia’s vulnerable expression had hardened at the insult.

‘You know nothing about me.’

‘Oh, I don’t know about that,’ Nell said, tilting her head and pretending to wince. ‘I think I just learnt more about you than I’d ever have wanted.’

Pain flashed once more across Sofia’s face, and this time, Nell’s wince was genuine.

Nell needed to find a way to stop looking at her, but it was hard, considering she was still very much naked, and they’d never even made it under the blankets. Her eyes lifted to the bed curtains and she quickly began to untie one. The last view she had of Sofia’s upset face before the curtain fell was painful to behold, no matter how much she hated her.

‘Look...’ Nell pushed the curtain aside just a couple inches to peer in at her. ‘We made a mistake – clearly.’

‘Clearly,’ Sofia echoed with a watery laugh.

She let the curtain fall shut once more and backed away from the bed, looking towards where they had been standing when they had been undressing. Even though it wasn’t as if she needed to be stealthy, she still crept silently over to the bundle of red breeches and scooped them up off the floor.

Nell covertly looked over her shoulder to the bed and froze; she’d forgotten that she put the curtains down only on one side, and had walked right back into Sofia’s view.

‘Fuck! Give me some privacy!’ she told her as she turned away, hurrying to pull her breeches on.

Her body felt strange in a way that would have been nice, had the situation been different. Once she’d pulled her breeches up, she rubbed at her clammy face with her hands – but stopped after a moment when she realised her fingers still bore the evidence of what she had done. She used her clean hand to wipe at her clammy face, finding that there were stray hairs sticking to it all over. She pulled one strand of hair away from her lips and found that it was long and black, not red and curly. Her hands shook as she tried to rid herself of it.

There was a noise coming from the bed. When she looked, she saw Sofia had pulled some of the blankets over her, covering herself from her chest down to her knees. Her head was tilted backwards to look up at the bed canopy. There were red marks all over her neck and shoulders, as if Nell had branded her with every kiss.

‘Fuck,’ Nell said just under her breath, forcing herself to look away.

Well, she took one more look first, but then she started trying to figure out where her other clothes had landed.

Nell could feel the woman’s eyes upon her. She almost thought about trying to cover her own kiss-marked chest with her hands or arms, but she felt it would appear cowardly.

‘Wait.’

Nell guiltily looked up from the slightly-wrinkled tips of her fingers. Her hand was still shaking.

‘You need to help me with my clothes.’

‘Don’t you have servants for that?’ Nell asked with a tight smile, curling her hand into a fist and letting it drop to her side. ‘I sure fucking hope you don’t think I’m your servant.’

She knew what Sofia meant. She knew that it was because she did not want to have to explain her state of undress. And Sofia knew she knew, and that was why Sofia looked at her again as if she hated her as she moved closer to the edge of the bed. She did not get out from under the blankets, instead holding them tightly to her chest – as if Nell’s face hadn’t already been –

‘Get my shift for me,’ she ordered. Then she shook her head at Nell’s glare and added in a reasonable tone, ‘It’s right beside your shirt.’

‘Fuck you. Get it yourself,’ she told her as she walked over to the two pieces of clothing, picking up only her own.

The dark mantua lay crumpled upon the floor a little ways off, along with petticoats and a hollow pair of stays. Nell’s waistcoat, however, remained to be seen.

She watched Sofia out of the corner of her eye, up until her peeping was interrupted by her shirt passing over her face. But Sofia wasn’t budging.

‘Stubborn, ain’t ya?’

Nell breathed a little easier once she was covered, although she still felt sweaty and peculiar.

She sighed as she picked up Sofia’s shift, flinging it at her without looking. The muffled sound of surprise gave her hope that it had hit her in the face, but she didn’t dare look.

‘Must you?’

‘Hmm?’ she asked innocently.

Nell pretended not to look as Sofia pushed the blankets off her and got out of the bed. She sighed in relief when the woman’s body was covered up once more by the shift. 

While Nell was seeking out the rest of her clothes, Sofia had taken a seat once more upon the bed. Every time Nell looked up, she expected to see her staring at her – but the woman’s head was turned downwards. If she was crying, it was impossible for her to tell.

After she had gotten all dressed again, she saw that Sofia hadn’t moved an inch, and it was then that Nell finally took pity on her.

‘Fine. Get up, come over, and I’ll do ya real quick.’

When she didn’t respond, Nell took it upon herself to gather the clothes which she had ignored whilst getting herself redressed. She half-swore that she was finding more layers than she even remembered stripping from her. The stomacher in particular gave her trouble, since it appeared that one of them must have kicked it underneath an armchair, meaning it was a miracle that she found it at all.

Somehow, during it all, Nell had forgotten the gravity of what all the black Sofia wore represented. While she was certain some patron of the Talbot had once mentioned how long Sofia had been widowed, and likely too where she had lived during her marriage, it wasn’t something Nell could remember now, and she certainly wasn’t going to ask.

She covertly looked up at Sofia. It was hard to reconcile the image of her smiling between their kisses – sighing underneath her with pleasure and relief – with one of her as a man’s wife.

The realisation that she had just slept with a woman still mourning such an enormous loss made Nell’s heart sink.

Sofia stood up and let Nell dress her. They did not speak, and it was all done while Nell was guiltily avoiding her gaze; once she had noticed that Sofia’s eyes were glassier than normal, it was too hard to look into them.

She was sure that she wasn’t doing as good a job as Sofia’s handmaid, or whoever it was who dressed her, but Sofia did not complain.

All too soon, she was wrapped up once more in her fancy clothes. Piece by ornate piece, she was returned to the austere Lady Wilmot, and such meant the necessary disappearance of the soft and tearful Sofia whom Nell had just met and lost.

It was as if it hadn’t happened, and that things were just as they were before, lacking only in the heat and venom which the two of them were now too tired and sad to maintain.

Well, that and Sofia’s hair was still –

‘My hair.’ Her voice sounded queer from crying. ‘You need to do my hair, too.’

‘I ain’t doing your hair, Sofia,’ Nell said with a solemn shake of her head.

‘What do you suggest I tell them as to why I took my hair down and made it so disorderly?’

She shut her eyes and sighed at the haughty disbelief in the woman’s tone.

‘You’ll come up with a lie. You’re good at that, ain’t you? Your whole family is.’

The stretch of silence that fell between them was enough to make Nell open her eyes to look at her with curiosity – or perhaps dread.

But Sofia’s expression was dull; she didn’t look like she was still listening.

‘I’ll be off, then,’ Nell said with a very broad forced smile which probably made her look a little mad. ‘It was, uh – Y’know –’

She made a few more incomplete noises as she wandered towards the door – hums and sighs and anything else she could think to do to keep the silence from swallowing them both.

‘Please come back,’ Sofia finally said, her voice steadier. Nell hoped it meant her tears had stopped – not even just for her sake, but because she was starting to hate the idea of the woman being left on her own in a state of misery.

Nell pretended to be busy with her sleeve as she walked back over to Sofia.

‘All right. What?’ she asked, only looking up at her once she was sure she looked properly disinterested in whatever she was going to demand next.

She had been right to be worried that the woman was crying, but there was nothing she could do about it.

‘Sorry, but I have to go,’ she weakly said, taking a step backwards.

‘Come back,’ Sofia said, reaching towards her hand, but catching her sleeve instead.

‘I can’t stay here any longer.’

‘I understand.’

Judging by the way she was gripping Nell’s sleeve, she wasn’t so sure Sofia did understand. It was with as much gentleness as she could manage that Nell loosened Sofia’s hold on her. After all her fingers had been unhooked from her sleeve, Nell did not let them go, but held them awkwardly and at too strange an angle to be truly considered her holding her hand.

But there were no more words to be said. Nell let go of Sofia’s hand and left the room without looking back.

Sofia stood there numbly until a servant thought to check on her.