An Indecent Gambit

Chapter Seven: Kiss and Tell

As the days passed into weeks, James realized he had underestimated Miss Follet. He had noticed very frequently a particular, scornful look to her eyes, but as far as he could tell even his best efforts had done no more than irritate her. She was always cool and composed, no matter how rude or embarrassing he was. He began to see that he would need a change of tactics. Mere bad manners would not dissuade her. It would take something deeper.

It was his mother who gave him both the idea and the opportunity. At breakfast one morning, just as James was about to take his first sip of coffee, Mrs Redwood barked, "Have you kissed Grace yet?"

James spilled coffee all over his plate. "I beg your pardon!"

"It was a simple question, James."

"Grammatically it may have been, but morally it is not!"

"I do not see why. You have been engaged three weeks. There would be nothing immoral in a kiss."

"I did not know morality was simply a question of time. If I must know a woman one minute to dance, and two days to walk, and three weeks to kiss, then I suppose after I have known her four months I may take all manner of liberties with no regard at all for notions of fondness or marriage."

"Do not be flippant, James! And answer the question. Your avoidance is suspicious."

James felt his cheeks heating, which was an extremely novel and unpleasant sensation for him. He busied himself in mopping up the spilt coffee with a napkin.

"James?" Mrs Redwood said icily.

"No," James said. "I have not."

Mr Redwood laughed wheezily. "The boy has come over shy, Margaret. Look, he is blushing."

"I am not blushing!"

"He has no need to be shy," Mrs Redwood said. "He is engaged to the girl. Besides, having had a dozen or more indecent dalliances, he certainly cannot claim to be naive. He must take the part of teacher, and help ready her for what is to come later."

James breathed in through his teeth. "Mother. This is not a good conversation."

"On the contrary," Mr Redwood said, "I find it a capital one. Look up, boy. Look up. Hah! Your cheeks are scarlet!"

James hastily gulped down his coffee. "I am feverish. Unwell. I cannot see Miss Follet today. I might give her a cold and she might die."

"That would be a tragedy," Mr Redwood said cheerfully, "but I fancy it would do you good to be unwell in front of her. It might encourage her to be more tender towards you."

"They do not get on as warmly as they should," Mrs Redwood said. "The girl must be shy. You must make more effort to attract her, James. I know you know how."

James ripped his bread roll to pieces. "There is to be no question of my being attracted, is there?"

"You have in the past proven yourself capable of being attracted to women," Mrs Redwood said. "I don't see why Grace should be any different."

There was no way for James to explain to his mother exactly why Miss Follet was certainly very different. He remained silent, focused upon ripping his bread roll to pieces.

"Anyway," his mother said. "You will make more effort with Grace. It would not be fair for her to be entirely surprised on her wedding night."

"Mother!"

"I am only being practical about this, James. Her mother certainly has not prepared her as she should."