"Is your drawing going well?" Rose limped down the front steps. "See anyone interesting?"
Jack jumped to his feet. He held out his arms. "Careful," he cautioned. "You might fall again." When she was settled on the step next to him, he said, "I thought you were resting."
"I was, but…"
"But what?" He closed his portfolio and set it aside. "You okay?" He eyed her with concern. "Is it your—"
"I'm fine," she said quickly. "I would just rather be down here with you."
Jack smiled. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "I'd rather you be down here with me, too."
She laid her head on his shoulder. They sat in silence for a few minutes, lost in their own thoughts.
Jack pressed his lips to the top of Rose's head. "It doesn't seem real, does it?"
She twisted around so she was looking into his face. "How did you know what I was thinking?"
He brushed his lips across hers. "I saw it."
She looped an arm around his neck. Pulling him closer, she murmured, "Is there anything you don't see?"
"I don't see those people across the street looking away anytime soon."
She tossed a quick glance over her shoulder. A handful of black-clad women were staring at them. One held a handkerchief over her mouth, as if she were trying to hide the movement of her lips. She was leaning toward a short woman with silver hair who had slits for eyes. The leader of the group appeared to be a tall woman near the center of the group. Her bony hands were clasped in front of her chest. She wore a look of utter disgust.
"We may as well give them something interesting to watch," Rose murmured. Before Jack could reply, she hoisted herself onto his lap. She twisted her fingers in his hair.
"Rose, what're you—" She cut him off with a kiss.
The women across the street let out a collective gasp. "Well, I never!" one of them said, just loud enough for Rose to hear. "It's a disgrace the way some girls behave."
This time it was the leader who spoke. "It's an absolute disgrace."
Rose just smiled and deepened the kiss. It would be a disgrace to pretend I don't want him.
Jack took hold of her arms. Gently, he pushed her back. "Rose, honey, we can't." The look in her eyes sent a shiver down his spine. "Not out here anyway," he added.
She pulled him in for another kiss. They were both out of breath when it ended. "Carry me upstairs?" she whispered.
The door was still swinging shut when Rose pulled Jack's shirt off. Her legs were wrapped around his hips. Her hands slid across his back. He stumbled forward, trying desperately to reach the bed before she could do anything else.
Everything became blurry after that. Rose felt Jack's lips on her neck, felt him nip gently at her throat. She felt his hair slide between her fingers. "Jack," she whispered. Somehow, despite their shaking hands, they managed to finish undressing each other.
"You're so beautiful." It seemed wrong to touch her. She couldn't be asking him to. That couldn't be her voice now becoming softly insistent. It couldn't be her hands— "Rose!"
*****
"You awake?"
Rose mumbled something Jack couldn't understand. She hugged him tighter, pressing her face into his neck.
"Sounds like a no to me," he said, smiling to himself. He kissed the top of her head. Her hair smelled like lavender. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply. "I love you."
*****
Una Hall carefully placed her teacup on its saucer. "I tell you, Celia I had never seen anything like it." She spoke with the perfect balance of hushed, demure shock and upper-class matronly disapproval. "There isn't anything girls these days won't do. Of course," she added, "this wasn't a girl of quality."
Celia Lane shook her head. With a sad click of her tongue she said, "What can you expect from people like that? It isn't as if they know any better."
"They don't want to know any better. Do you honestly think they have to live that way?" She continued on before Celia had a chance to reply. "They could do better if only they tried, but people like that are so opposed to bettering themselves. It's terrible, really. I mean, when you think of everything we try to do for them—"
"I don't think it's such an awful thing."
Una turned her steely eyes on the young woman next to her. Matilda shrank in her seat, her cheeks already a deep scarlet. "I mean, it’s not as if..." she said haltingly. "What I meant to say is..." She twisted her hands in her lap. "I'm sorry, Aunt Una."
Una turned back to Celia. "It's just like I was telling you before. Girls these days will do and say anything. It's the mixing of those sort of people with our sort. The schools are giving so many places to children who simply should not be there, children who would be better off accepting their lot in life."
"Yes," Matilda said tentatively. "But didn't you just say the lower classes could better themselves?"
One look from Una silenced her for the rest of the afternoon. "What I meant was they could better themselves within their own station. No one said anything about forgetting their place."
Matilda just nodded. She stared at her hands. Her lily white, perfect hands. I wonder what Rose is doing right now. She and Rose had never been friends, not really, but for some reason she couldn't stop thinking about her. She kept trying to imagine what her life was like. She probably doesn't have anyone telling her to be quiet or that she isn't intelligent enough to understand the conversation.
"Of course," Una said, "hair like that just couldn't be natural. Nature simply does not create a red like that."
Matilda raised her head slightly. Red hair? So red it doesn't seem possible? It couldn't be...could it?