Page 42 of Courting Claudia
“Then why did you do it?”
Claudia couldn’t help herself. She smiled. “I don’t know.”
“Tell me more. You can’t expect me to let you go without giving me details of the kiss.”
“The kiss was…” Amazing, toe-curling, sensual, heart-stopping. So many thoughts came to mind, but none of them seemed to fit. So she settled on “Really nice.”
Poppy’s shoulders deflated. “Really nice? Derrick Middleton presses you against a balcony rail and kisses you for the better part of ten minutes and all you can say is it was ‘really nice’?”
“I don’t really have a base for comparison.”
“Did you feel it all over? I read in a novel once where the woman was kissed by a wicked Frenchman and she felt it all over. All over. I can’t even imagine.”
A month ago it had been hard to imagine. Never in her wildest thoughts had she envisioned a kiss affecting her the way Derrick’s did.
“You could say I felt it all over. I felt it in other places besides my lips.” She fought the urge to giggle. She lost. “It feels as if our lips were meant for each other. I know that sounds so silly, but kissing him feels as natural as breathing. Yet it feels so deliciously foreign at the same time. It’s quite exhilarating.”
“I’m assuming the art exhibit wasn’t the first time?”
“No. Once before at my house, in the garden, that was the first. And then again when I went riding with him. Then the art exhibit, and then the Finnigers’ ball. I’m shameless.”
“And you’ve successfully kept this from me for that long?”
Claudia expected Poppy to give her a lecture on how they were supposed to be confidantes. Instead her friend merely smiled.
“I’m impressed,” she finally said.
“Impressed?”
“That you kept it a secret. You’ve never been very good at secrets. Particularly your own. Which leads me to believe that there must be more that you’re hiding. More than a few kisses.”
Claudia shook her head. “No. Only the kisses. We haven’t done anything else. I swear.”
Poppy laughed. “That’s not what I meant. But that’s intriguing.”
“You think I’m a harlot, don’t you?”
“Why would I think a silly thing like that?”
“Because I’ve been intimate with a man who is not properly courting me. And who doesn’t have permission from my father to do so.”
“Doesn’t have your father’s permission to court you, or to be intimate with you?” Poppy asked with a smile.
“Neither. Of course, Derrick said he would not be dictated by my father. He claims I’m old enough to marry who I choose.”
“That’s quite bold of him. Has he proposed?”
“No. I doubt he will. I don’t believe he truly wants to marry me.”
“For someone who’s not so serious, he’s certainly doing a better job of courting you than Richard.”
“Be serious, Poppy.”
“I was. Has it not occurred to you that Mr. Middleton might be interested in you because of who you are and not because of your father and his political ties? This might be the one. The one who could free you, who would allow you to continue illustrating. Who would love you.” Poppy fell back on her bed. “If I were you, I’d try to get myself compromised with him so he’d have to marry me.”
“Poppy! You would do no such thing, and neither will I. That’s a wretched thought, trying to snare a husband in such a manner. He’d probably never speak to me again. I know my father wouldn’t.”
“I was only joking. But I still think you should consider the fact that Derrick is clearly serious in courting you.”