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Kindle Notes & Highlights
by
Olivia Waite
Read between
May 31 - July 8, 2022
Lady Moth’s rosebud mouth was at its best when she smiled.
Growing up, Lucy had always known she liked girls more than boys.
they’d restricted her to mending and embroidery. You could take a robin, put it in a cage, and carry it with you around the world—but if you never opened the cage door, how much of a difference would you have made to the robin’s life? All it would know was the view through the bars.
She fetched a green wrap of wool lined with silk, and told herself she felt no relief at seeing the infamous Priscilla’s handiwork hidden from sight.
Only Catherine, who was more than usually interested in Miss Muchelney’s hands, could see how the knuckles were white with strain.
Words like embers danced on her tongue and she feared the lightest breath would kindle them into flame.
Catherine’s whole body went tight and liquid—how easy would it be to just lean forward, and press her mouth to Lucy’s, and taste that sound on her own tongue?
surely it was only a tight turn of the carriage that staggered her, and not the thought of parting from Lucy.
Catherine and Lucy passed the next two weeks orbiting one another like a double star: ever moving, never touching, never truly separating.
But Lucy was waiting, her gray eyes eager, and once again Catherine found she couldn’t bear to disappoint her.
the attractive force between two bodies is mutual and equivalent, whatever the difference of mass between them . . .
Nothing in the universe stands alone.
“Maybe even a beautiful idea.”
Falling in love with a genius was a daunting thought.
Lucy’s delighted laugh gave Catherine so much pleasure she had to excuse herself from the room on the pretext of a missing skein of silk.
It took fifteen minutes for her heart to stop racing,
It was a thought to break the heart.
The inescapable truth: women could fall in love with other women.
Friendship, people would call it in public, even as they prayed silently their own daughters had no such friends.
Catherine valued Lucy’s freedom in this as much as her own. I want more; I understand if you don’t.
Catherine wanted Lucy, but more than that, Catherine wanted Lucy to want her back.
as though each one were mending a small rent in Lucy Muchelney’s heart.
but all she could imagine was Lady Moth’s hands going everywhere the shawl would:
A new smile, shy and hopeful. A smile like the first ray of dawn. Lucy was enchanted.
if the countess was really trying to seduce Lucy, Lucy was all for it.
“You can’t always judge by what came before. Sometimes, there is a revolution.”
The words burst over Lucy like sunlight, or the flare from a newly discovered comet.
Therefore she asked, in a sound barely more than a whisper: “May I kiss you?”
Lady Moth held her breath, then let out a sigh that formed a single word: “Please.”
the kiss exploded where they met.
The same result: sparkling fire.
She wanted to sink her hands into the lady’s hair and hold her in place and kiss her until the sun went dark and the moon went dim and the stars blew out like spent wax candles.
though the pink in her cheeks was a spur to memory.
Catherine went breathless when she saw it, watching the glass beads sparkle as the younger woman moved—though Lucy’s eyes sparkled more, as they met Catherine’s.
she wasn’t sure her knees would have supported her, had she been standing when that look was sent her way.
Why cast about for artful phrases when there were much better things to do with one’s mouth?
Then Lucy smiled, and for a moment her gaze darted down to Catherine’s lips.
“but I confess: you weren’t the first I wanted to kiss.”
“So you are drawn to dark-haired, troublesome women,” Lucy said, leaning closer.
“God help me, it see...
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Catherine drank pleasure from Lucy’s ready mouth,
the only solid thing the skin and heat and feel of the woman in her arms.
Catherine’s curious fingers slipped along the line of Lucy’s bodice, the girl broke away with a gasp.
“Too fast?” She’d done it now: she’d lost control, tried to take too much, too soon . . .
Lucy laughed and reached out to pull her back.
Catherine stiffened automatically, shame at her unruly desire turning ...
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Catherine narrowed her eyes. “Don’t you want to do more than kiss me?”
the countess’s pulse leaped to meet her fingers.
Catherine’s cheeks warmed further, and her eyes slipped down to Lucy’s mouth. “I’m not sure I want to wait so long as that.”
Her tongue lingered over the name, and her smile widened with pleasure.
