‘Well …’
Essie stilled. Edward had been responsible for the Cheapside site. Freddie had said there was an unspoken agreement between the lads to divvy some of the spoils between them, instead of handing them over to Edward. But what if Edward also kept some jewels? She eyed the bodkin. Did he pay for this apartment with his wages, an inheritance, or with stolen jewellery? Essie shook the shadows of uncertainty from her head, telling herself the Hepplestones were people of means. Respectable. She chided herself for thinking otherwise as she ran her hands across the wall and felt the ripple of silk …
‘This is for you.’
He stepped closer now and slid the hairpin into her hair. ‘It’s beautiful,’ he said. ‘Like you.’ He tipped his head to the side, those green eyes asking only one question.
Essie knew she shouldn’t, but against her better judgement she stood on her toes and kissed him. His lips tasted of cherry syrup. They drew away from each other for a beat, and then kissed again with greater confidence. He wrapped his arms around her and lifted her onto the table. Her heart raced and her breath was ragged as his fingers caressed her cheeks, her hair, her neck.
Slowly, Edward unlaced her boots and let them each drop to the floor with a thunk. Then he stood and placed both hands on her shoulders, eyes burning into hers.
He promised.
Her throat was dry. Her heart thumped and she longed to lift her legs and wrap them around Edward’s waist, to lose herself in this strange sensation of heat and desire that made her limbs ache. But she wasn’t sure what to do.
So she did nothing except sit a little stiffly atop the table, knees primly together.
Edward started to unbutton her dress quickly, slipping it down so her shoulders were laid bare and creamy in the twilight. He kissed her skin, and his fingers lingered on her shoulders before he traced the line of them.
‘Oh, Essie,’ he whispered as he started to feather his fingers down her spine. ‘You’re so beautiful … this skin,’ he sighed, and he trailed kisses down her back until her dress was bunched at her waist. Linen scratched against her soft stomach.
Edward stepped in front of her now, and cupped her breasts with both hands, groaning. Her back arched involuntarily, and suddenly she found herself pulling off his jacket, fumbling with the buttons of his waistcoat. He took over, stripping off his waistcoat and shirt and flinging them to the floor.
They pressed together skin to skin, breathing ragged. She’d opened her legs so he stood between them, and she could feel him pressing into her through the cloth of his trousers.
She hesitated. What if Freddie …
Edward leaned forwards and kissed her deeply. More than anything she wanted him. All of him. She wanted to feel his flesh pressed against her skin … to feel alive. Essie was so very tired of feeling lost, sad and ashamed. Was it so wrong to snatch a moment of joy?
‘Edward …’ She seized his hand and led it to the warm spot under her skirts, between her legs. He gasped, then fell to his knees, slowly slipping off her drawers. He then slid his tongue up the inside of her thigh, moving higher and higher until he reached the point where her thighs met.
After that, it all seemed to happen so quickly. She lay down on the table as he unbuckled his belt and unfastened his pants. He leaned into her, feeling first with his fingers, then he thrust himself into her. She bit hard into her hand as the warm sensation she’d been feeling was pricked with sharp pain.
He stopped, sensing her discomfort. ‘Sorry … I’ll stop. We’ll wait until—’
But Essie pulled him by the shoulders so his full weight was pressed against her groin and adjusted her hips. The burning sensation softened.
Essie didn’t want him to stop. Not ever.
As they moved together she was aware of the light falling across the room, shadows shifting against the crystal chandeliers. Her brown curls rippled across the table like an ocean. Edward buried his nose in her hair as they moved together faster and faster until Essie thought she couldn’t stop.
She sighed. Edward shuddered, then stilled.
Edward rolled to the side, groaning. ‘Essie Murphy,’ he whispered. ‘Thank you.’ Then he reached across and clasped her hand. They lay together like that for a moment, her head on his chest and his arm wrapped tight around her. He whispered again, so softly that she almost missed it, ‘I wish you were coming with me to Boston. One day I’ll take you.’
Another promise. Her heart filled.
She kissed his chest. ‘That would be wonderful,’ she said. ‘But what about Gertie? I couldn’t leave her.’
‘Shh.’ He kissed her forehead. ‘I’ll take care of it.’ And he kissed her again before gently helping her back into her dress.
‘We’d best—’
‘Of course, before Freddie …’
They spoke shyly, glancing at each other and blushing like schoolchildren.
Essie turned away to pull on her drawers and lace her boots while Edward refastened his shirt, waistcoat and jacket. She’d just finished fixing her hair when the doorbell rang.
‘It’s Freddie!’
Edward kissed the top of Essie’s head and gave her hand a reassuring squeeze before he walked down the hallway to answer the door.
‘Well, hello Freddie. Any luck?’ Essie could hear Edward’s voice carry down the corridor. It was only when she smoothed her skirt and tucked a curl behind her ear that she realised her lovely hairpin was missing. She quickly checked under the table and scanned the floor.
Nothing.
Edward must have removed it from her hair and tucked it away for safekeeping.
She felt the heat rising to her cheeks as she recalled what had just happened between them.
No matter, he would return it to her when they saw each other again on his return from Boston. It was only eight weeks, and then he would be coming back to her, just as he had promised …
The door whipped open and Essie’s mother stood framed in the doorway, holding a candle.
She pulled her shoulders back and stood as if she were a queen. Her hair was neatly swept into a bun, and her green shawl was wrapped around her shoulders to hide her filthy tunic. But the dark rings under her eyes and the spider’s web of red veins across her pasty cheeks and nose betrayed her.
Essie cringed as Edward held open the door of his motor for her to climb out. Freddie had hurried inside some minutes ago, leaving Essie and Edward alone to say goodbye.
It was kind of Edward to offer to drive her and Freddie home at this late hour. He’d insisted—said he was driving out anyway for a late supper with friends at a new restaurant before he set sail tomorrow. Essie felt threads of hope and confusion twist in her stomach as she pictured him drinking and dining in a posh restaurant with his well-dressed friends. How would she ever fit into that world?
Essie met her mother’s icy gaze as she stood on the doorstep and brushed her nerves aside. She needed to move quickly to shoo away her mother before she spoke—or, worse, invited Edward inside.
Her chest tightened with embarrassment and shame. What would her beau think of her if he saw how she lived? Would it make him realise that she didn’t belong with him in his Mayfair flat?
‘You shouldn’t have waited up, Ma.’
‘Well, when your brother came inside alone, I got to wondering what could be keeping you.’ Ma narrowed her eyes as she took in Edward’s bespoke striped suit, front-creased trousers and pale shoes. ‘And now I see.’