Potent Pleasures Read Online Free PDF

asked, seeing that Charlotte’s eyes were shadowed and her face was waxen.
    And Charlotte simply said, “I think I shall be ill.” And she was, right on the Axminster carpet in Julia’s bedchamber. Which was problematic because it was the middle of the night and Julia did not want to sleep in a sour-smelling room, so finally they both went into Charlotte’s bedchamber and prepared for sleep.
    Except that Julia gasped when Charlotte was undressing, and when Charlotte looked down she saw blood on her thighs and nearly jumped out of her skin.
    “Oh, aren’t I silly,” said Julia. “You’ve got your monthly: Do you have the right cloths?” And when Charlotte shook her head silently (it wasn’t even due for weeks), Julia tripped off into her room and got the necessary items.
    Charlotte washed at the basin in the corner, delicately touching that part of her which stung and ached and throbbed, and which she’d never really thought about before.
    He’d ruined her, she suddenly realized. This is what is meant by ruined. She must be torn inside, changed.
    And then, like a chill blowing down her back, she understood that she could never get married, because any man she married would find out, would know that she was ruined. Charlotte’s mind went very, very quiet, and she even managed to smile at Julia when she rushed back in the room.
    She put on her soft white nightgown and curled up in bed, facing away from Julia. But she couldn’t go to sleep for a long time. And when she did, she sobbed aloud and woke up, imagining the faces of her mother and father. What would they say if they knew?
    The next morning Charlotte lay in bed feeling miserable. Julia sat next to her, sipping hot chocolate and talking. Luckily, Julia never needed much of a response to engage in lively conversation.
    “I simply cannot believe Mr. Colby’s perfidy!” she repeated again and again. Charlotte noticed that “Christopher” was now definitively “Mr. Colby.”
    “I just can’t believe that he tried to take liberties with me!” Julia elbowed Charlotte again, trying to get her attention. “Charlotte! This is important! He didn’t just try to kiss me, you know. He put his hand —on my breast , Charlotte! On my breast ” Julia said again, emphasizing each word. “I could have been ruined,” she said with relish.
    Charlotte didn’t respond. Julia peered at her. “Are you quite all right, Charlotte? You’re very quiet. I could ask my mother … she has some good remedies for a bad monthly. Would you like that? Oh, no,” she wailed, “I couldn’t! Why, she would take one look at me and see that I was almost ruined last night!”
    Charlotte thought dully that Julia certainly was enjoying herself.
    “Why,” Julia continued, “if I hadn’t trampled on his foot, just at the right moment, well, who knows? He might have overcome my resistance!” Julia giggled. “But you know, Charlotte,” she said. “His lips were rather wet, and it was revolting … I don’t know what came over me! Kissing the curate!” She giggled again.
    Charlotte listened silently. What was the matter with her? At least Julia knew Mr. Colby. She even adored him. But Julia hadn’t lost her head. They both knew that if Julia had been able to tell her mother, which of course she couldn’t, Lady Brentorton would have approved of her response to the curate’s kiss.
    But when a stranger, a total stranger, kissed Charlotte out of the blue, she collapsed into his arms as if she were begging for more. So Charlotte separated her guilt from her anger. How evil could the man be? He must have thought … she didn’t want to think what he must have thought, and quickly covered her burning cheeks with her hands.
    It was only when the huge house was quiet, around two in the afternoon, that Charlotte started to cry. Julia had gone riding with her parents; her maid was down in the kitchen. Charlotte soaked her pillow with tears: for the husband she would never have, for