Even one kiss had helped; she felt a little less lonely already. So she was grinning a little again afterwards, at his protests and the pleasant shiver that came from his hand trailing over her.
“Well, there really isn’t much to say,” Jemima insisted, whether about his relatives or not. She could hardly say that it had been mostly awkward, and she also didn’t want to speak too soon and say she was making strides. She had spoken to Noble a little, and Clementine had lent her that essay today, so she was hopeful. But what else? The only other thing that crossed her mind, that was not about his family, was perhaps recounting that abortive attempt at a shopping trip (and by then Ford’s mouth was at her neck, and Jemima wasn’t much inclined to ruin it by reminding him that society was obviously entirely scandalised by her.) She shrugged innocently. “I’ve just been here.”
Ford had been the one out at work, after all: if anyone had news or stories to tell, it ought to be him. He was still in his clothes, while she had been all but ready for bed – and Jemima’s arms had reached around his shoulders, but when he drew back from her neck she relaxed her arms and moved her hands to his shirt to loosen his collar for him. She had managed a couple of buttons whilst leaning in for another kiss, but then her fingers found some kind of string under his collar, strung around his neck. Some kind of locket or pendant? As she opened another of his shirt buttons, she ducked her gaze in curiosity to see what it was.
“Well, there really isn’t much to say,” Jemima insisted, whether about his relatives or not. She could hardly say that it had been mostly awkward, and she also didn’t want to speak too soon and say she was making strides. She had spoken to Noble a little, and Clementine had lent her that essay today, so she was hopeful. But what else? The only other thing that crossed her mind, that was not about his family, was perhaps recounting that abortive attempt at a shopping trip (and by then Ford’s mouth was at her neck, and Jemima wasn’t much inclined to ruin it by reminding him that society was obviously entirely scandalised by her.) She shrugged innocently. “I’ve just been here.”
Ford had been the one out at work, after all: if anyone had news or stories to tell, it ought to be him. He was still in his clothes, while she had been all but ready for bed – and Jemima’s arms had reached around his shoulders, but when he drew back from her neck she relaxed her arms and moved her hands to his shirt to loosen his collar for him. She had managed a couple of buttons whilst leaning in for another kiss, but then her fingers found some kind of string under his collar, strung around his neck. Some kind of locket or pendant? As she opened another of his shirt buttons, she ducked her gaze in curiosity to see what it was.
