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Authors: Lindsay Kiernan

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BOOK: A Taste of Honey
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“Okay that's good, not many men are that tall or strong enough to do so without straining.  What else do you remember?”

The kiss was all her mind could come back to, his whiskey breath and the feel of his hands holding her tightly, angling her head as he deepened the kiss.

“Did he say anything to you?”

Katherine's eyes popped open and she groaned.  Amelia.  The only reason that he had even kissed her was because he thought she was his Amelia.  The thought saddened her, that her first kiss had been intended for someone else.  It had started to mean something to her but now that feeling was washing away.  Averting her eyes from her sister she sighed.  “I don't think we have to worry about him trying to see me again.”

“Why do you think that?”

“He's already married,” she said and moved off of her sister's bed to turn back the sheets on her own.

“He's married!”  Robin shrieked, unable to believe her sister would do such a thing when even she had the scruples not to kiss a married man.

“Or engaged.” Katherine shrugged idly trying not to notice the sick feeling that the thought made in her stomach.  “Either way, it's unlikely that he'll try to find me if he already has someone else.” She changed into her nightclothes before turning down the lamp.  Even now he might be wiping her kiss away with that of his Amelia's.  “I'm sure it was just a mistake on both of our parts.”

Robin was less than eager to drop a subject this exciting, now that she was awake enough to enjoy it.  “What if you're wrong Katherine?” she insisted. “What if we come across him in London?”

“I doubt he could recognize me since I saw nothing of him,” Katherine said and unhappily she noticed the slight pout to her voice that sounded so much like her sister.  Rolling over in her bed she pretended to fall sleep to keep Robin from asking more questions.

Chapter 3

 

 

Early the next morning, both girls were treated to fresh scones and the presence of Winnie Brentley, who burst into their room before they'd even gotten out of bed.  She ignored the tradtion of being introduced by someone else, she didn't even introdue herself.  She swung open the door with a loud wack and annonced, “The food here is wonderful!”

She didn't wait for Katherine or Robin to reply as she tore into the food and continued to babble on in the same sunny voice.  “It's wonderful outside this morning.  How can the two of you ignore this weather by sleeping in?” Winnie asked.

Katherine did not usually sleep in, but last night she had tossed and turned fitfully.  She hoped it was just nervousness over attending her first ball that coming night.  Her fingers slid along her slightly swollen bottom lip and she realized that the man who had filled her dreams last night had been real and the evidence of his kiss lingered.  She blushed slightly as she wondered if anyone else would notice the slight change.

Winnie continued to chat without the need of a response from either girl.  “Tomorrow morning in London, we should all go out for a nice, early walk together in Hyde Park.  If you go too late, it becomes very crowded.”  Winnie talked on and on while setting their small breakfast table as she explained that she had not been able to find one of the inn's maids.  “They probably all slept in,” she surmised as she filled the tea cups and added sugar and cream to her cup and her mother's.  “How do you like your tea?” she asked Robin, who had not moved out of bed despite all of the noise their guest was making.

Katherine finished pulling on her robe, and then walked over to the breakfast table, choosing the chair right beside Winnie.  “Robin takes her tea with a little cream, but always later in the day.”  She added her own honey to one of the cups and sipped in the welcoming warmth.  Still one for rituals and proper introductions, she extended her hand in greeting.  “It's very nice to meet you Winnie,” she said as they shook hands.

Winnie Brentley appeared to be an energetic woman who approached even a morning breakfast with enthusiasm and vigor, in spite of the early hour.  She was also much taller than Katherine, with long blonde hair that she wore high up on her hea
d in a tidy bun.  Her vivid hazel
eyes twinkled lightly as she smiled.  The way in which Mrs. Brentley had talked about her daughter now made sense to Katherine.  It was hard to imagine Winnie being demure, but then she was so lighthearted that who could blame her for any wild streak that she might possess?

“I'm sure you're Katherine,” Winnie smiled mischievously as she lowered her voice.  “My mother told me that Robin was the moodier one.” She gestured over to Katherine's sister who had finally climbed out of bed, and was frowning in her search for a lost stocking.

Katherine nodded her head as she began buttering one of the scones and adding honey to it as well.  “Will your brother and mother be joining us for breakfast?” she asked.  With the stark differences between the two female Brentleys Katherine wondered what the brother would be like.  More severe like his mother, whimsical like his sister or somehow boring which was not a word that she could use to describe the other two in the family.

“No, my mother already had breakfast and is ordering the coachman on how to pack her bags correctly,” Winnie said as she rolled her eyes and licked her finger after taking the last bite of her roll, before reaching for another.

The contrast between Winnie, who seemed to ignore many of the manners that her mother had taught her and the bossy Mrs. Brentley, who had likely never licked her fingers in her life, brought a smile to Katherine's face.  Almost immediately, she was sure that she would get along well with the daughter who was part wild, doing whatever she wanted, when she wanted to.  At sixteen Winnie was less than a year younger than the twins but her vibrant behavior made her seem younger, more childish, like she truly enjoyed each moment of life.

“And my brother won't be up for hours,” Winnie added before licking her fingers again and drying them off with her delicate lace napkin.

“Are we waiting that long before leaving for London?”  Katherine asked.  She was not looking forward to another coach ride with her sister and Mrs. Brentley, yet it would be best to have it over with.  Staying in the same town as the man that she had kissed did not appeal to her either.  She knew that she would watch each couple walking down the street, wondering if the wife was named Amelia and if the man beside her just might be the one that Katherine had shared a kiss with last night.

Stop it.  Katherine told herself.  It had been an amazing first kiss, but it meant nothing beyond that.  They didn't even know each other’s names, and she was sure that it had felt more exciting because of that fact.  Besides, for all she knew all kisses were that electric and within the year she would find her own husband to kiss whenever she wanted to.  Then she wouldn't need to pine over her one little stolen kiss, from a married man no less.

“No, we aren't waiting for my brother.  He has his own schedule,” Winnie said. “He doesn't like spending much time in London.  When he does visit, there are friends that he feels the need to see instead of spending time with us.  Most of the nights he stays at an inn in town, closer to the pubs that he and his friends frequent, or one of their houses rather than staying with us at the townhouse.  He probably won't even enter London until tomorrow or the next day.  Besides, we have to leave early if we are going to make it to town in time to unpack and prepare you and your sister for the Emerson's party tonight.”

Robin had finally joined their little table, eating every scone that she could get her fingers on.  Now fully awake she had regained some of her energy.  She quizzed Winnie as to what she knew about the party, and who would be there.  “Are the Emersons very rich?” she asked.

“Yes, and old.  Their children are all married and have left the estate.  The Emersons now hold the event so that they can claim the right of hosting the first major ball each year.  They are quite proud of the fact that many women, like my mother, consider their ball the start of London's season.”

It almost hurt Katherine's head to think that their first night in London would be spent attending an extravagant party that would last far into the night.  Growing up in the country she had become used to quiet nights at home reading beside her father.  “Is there another event tomorrow night too?”  Winnie's head seemed to be as cataloged with events as her mother's who had spent much of the carriage ride reading off the different schedules that she and the girls would have to keep to.

“Yes, tomorrow should be a great time for the both of you to get some information about this year’s bachelors.  Mother sends out invitations to all of the girls that she has sponsored in the past to come and take tea with us.  Not all of her former charges return to London every year but those that do will be in attendance.  That way she can introduce her newest charge to them.  It's kind of a little club that she has made over the years.  The women get very excited and gather together to share the best gossip from the last year.  They also try to help out and scout for eligible bachelors.”

Katherine couldn't help cringing at the idea of meeting all of Mrs. Brentley's previous successes.  She wondered how many of them had married lords, dukes and viscounts like her mother wanted her to.  They would sit around and stare at her, trying to sum up her worth and they would tell her whether or not they felt that her goals were out of reach.  Besides, she did not need more women pressing her on which husband she should choose.

Winnie must have noticed Katherine's scowl.  “They really aren't that bad,” she said as she tore at one of the scones.  “It's not like they pick you apart or anything.”

“Are most of them very rich?  Do any of them have titles?”  Robin asked trying to size up which of the women would be the most beneficial to their purposes.

Winnie was able to list off a few titled ladies and one or two that had married remarkably wealthy however she assured them that most had simply married whoever made them happy.  Her mother even emphasized not reaching too high and letting who they liked dictate who they were to marry.

Before the three girls had finished their breakfast Mrs. Brentley entered their room with the coachman to collect their luggage and hurry them outside.  “We should have left an hour ago,” she chided, as she rushed them all into the carriage for the last few hours before they would enter London.  It was clear that punctuality was one of the subjects that she was stern about.

Luckily the ride to London was more enjoyable than their earlier one.  Winnie kept the conversation light as she sought to discover each of the twins’ hidden differences.  “I think that she has a slightly higher nose than yours,” she told Robin, who chatted alongside her while Katherine and Mrs. Brentley read quietly, trying to pass the time while avoiding any further arguments with Robin.

When they reached London, both Wellings sisters discovered that it was as strange and exciting as they had been warned.  Peering out of the coach windows they watched the different people that they passed by, each with a special secret task that they hurried along to complete.  So many people crammed into one city seemed unnatural and filth littered many of the poorer areas that they passed.  Mrs. Brentley made sure that the coach rode through some of the more beautiful buildings in the area to show the city's balance between beauty and the chaos of street vendors and peddlers who stood along the roads shouting prices and haggling with customers. 

One of the theater houses they passed seemed to rise up to the heavens with giant statues on the top roofs of the building, pointing high up into the sky.  It seemed impossible that anyone in the city had any acquaintances as each person they passed along their way was ignored.  Everyone in town appeared to be complete strangers and they were perfectly content at remaining that way.

Some of the women had beautiful dresses and were attended by the smartly dressed men, out for a morning walk where a local flower seller would persuade the gentleman that his lady's looks would be improved by a half-pence of flowers.  Down narrow alleyways and between tall buildings, Katherine could see the shadowy forms of children that picked through the garbage looking for edible goods. 

Since it was Sunday one of the bakeries they drove past had lines of London's poorer classes who could not afford stoves at home.  They lined up to have the bakers cook their meats on the one day that they were not baking rolls, breads and pastries.  The rich scents filtered into her nose of duck and wild game being slowly roasted over the fires.  The carriage also passed large churches where the bells rang out, calling all sinners into their doors for forgiveness.

Seeing so many strange areas and people gave Katherine relief on one front.  Even if the man she had met last night was staying in London, how would he find her in such a maze of people and events?  She set her mind at ease and started to enjoy the idea of meeting new bachelors at tonight's ball and not fearing that one of them might be strangely familiar to her.

After driving through town for awhile, they ended at the Brentley's small townhouse that was in fact larger than the Welling's entire home in the country.  From the outside it was one of the more modestly sized buildings, but the long narrow building consisted of three floors that rose up into the grey city skyline.

Most of the bedrooms were on the third floor.  There was a small library on the second floor that housed more books than Katherine would ever be able to read, with a billiards room and private sitting area beside it.  The bottom floor had been designed solely for hosting small parties and events.  The front door opened up into a large hall with a sitting room to one side and the formal dining area to the other side.  The richly stained banisters and floors had been newly polished and dusted, making the house feel new, like no one had ever entered it before them.  Mrs. Brentley seemed to ignore the twins' awe as they walked in and stepped aside, watching as their things were brought in and a small army of servants rushed to and fro to help them by bringing tea, packing their trunks upstairs and starting to prepare them for tonight's party.

BOOK: A Taste of Honey
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