Stormswept by Sabrina Jeffries Read Free Book Online Page B

pillow. What was there to explain? That she wished she were a Welsh girl who could kiss whomever she wanted? It was true. At the moment, she’d rather be a scullery maid than a lady.
    The door swung open, making her jerk her head around. Her mother slipped into the room and came to sit on the bed beside her. “I wanted to make sure you were all right. You do understand why your father punished you, don’t you?”
    Juliana swallowed her resentful words.
    “He merely wants what’s best for you, dear. If you’re to make a good marriage, you must learn to control these wild urges of yours. You cannot simply go off on your own. There are men who would—” Her mother broke off, lips tightening.
    “Would what?”
    Mama dropped her voice as if speaking of a deadly secret. “Assault your person.”
    Juliana’s eyes widened. Lettice hadn’t told her that. “You mean they would hit me?” Juliana didn’t count Papa’s canings as hitting; that was merely punishment for transgressions.
    “Not exactly.” Mama looked pained. “Men can assault a woman in other ways. They can touch a woman . . .” Her mother trailed off, obviously embarrassed.
    “You mean, like kissing them?” Juliana added helpfully.
    Her mother glanced up, startled. “What do you know of kissing?”
    Juliana dropped her gaze. “I-I’ve watched Lettice.”
    Her mother’s sigh of relief sounded loud in the room. “That maid of yours is entirely too forward with men for an unmarried woman. But then, she’s Welsh.”
    What did that have to do with it? “Do only Welshwomen let men kiss them like that?”
    “An unmarried Englishwoman would never allow a man to kiss her, unless he were her betrothed, of course. Even then, it would be a buss on the cheek, no more. Only married people may kiss on the mouth . . . and . . . well, touch each other.”
    Mama’s voice grew brittle. “But men have trouble curbing their intense . . . ah . . . feelings. So women must be the strong ones and hold them at bay.”
    Mr. Vaughan’s kiss had made her feel all tingly and pleasant inside. She’d wanted to stand there kissing him forever. “Don’t women have intense feelings?”
    “Certainly not! Not proper Englishwomen and well-bred ladies. The Welsh are different, because they have impure blood. But English ladies are a higher breed—strong feelings aren’t in our constitution. There are a few unmarried women willing to be any man’s paramour, but certainly no one who travels in our circles.”
    Juliana knew the word “paramour” had something to do with living in the same house with a man who wasn’t related to you either by blood or by marriage. But the word sounded so foreign that she’d dismissed it as a Continental peculiarity. “These few unmarried women . . . they’re English?”
    Her mother sat up straight on the bed. “In name only, I should think. Their behavior demonstrates that they’re not—” She broke off. “I shouldn’t have mentioned it. In any case, you mustn’t think about women with such impure blood. You aren’t of that kind, not with your breeding.”
    “So you’re saying that if a woman, even an Englishwoman, lets a man kiss her and likes it, she has impure blood.”
    “Of course.” Her mother’s eyes narrowed. “You’re awfully curious about this, Juliana.”
    She managed a smile. “Well, my window is over the garden, so I see the servant girls with their sweethearts go by. I never could understand why they kiss so much.”
    Her mother gave a tight-lipped smile. “And now you do.”
    Impure blood? That explained everything —why she felt so different from her family, why they always told her tocontrol her emotions when she only wanted to let them out. That must be why she loved Welsh things and had “strong feelings” when Mr. Vaughan kissed her.
    “I’d best return downstairs, before I am missed and your father loses his temper.”
    Juliana scowled. Mama’s meek acceptance of Papa’s