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It was just a thin strip of ribbon around her neck – purple, like her eyes.
Felicity didn’t really know what had possessed Pippa to wear it. Pip had always been the sort of girl to wear jewelry: necklaces, baubles, assorted sparkly things.
This seemed different, though – true, it accentuated her neck – long, graceful, milky white – but it didn’t show off her wealth or social position, and that was half the reason Pip usually wore those things.
To say it was a long day for Fee would be an understatement. She could never stop herself from looking at Pippa, could never stop her eyes from lingering on Pip’s dark curls or the line of her body underneath her dress. That day, though, it was like Felicity couldn’t tear her eyes away, and it was all due to that little strip of fabric.
Fee knew people were beginning to notice. By the time she got to French class, Gemma had asked her no less than eight times if she was alright, and Cecily had made an equal number of snide remarks. Thankfully, Cecily seemed to think that Fee’s staring was due to jealousy, rather than…
Well.
The only person who hadn’t bothered Felicity about this matter (other than Pippa herself, of course, who merely preened like a ninny every time she caught Fee staring) was Ann.
It was still strange for Felicity, to have this affinity with Ann Bradshaw, of all people, the mousy charity student who she had once teased mercilessly. To see Ann now, sending her a sympathetic smile while she fiddled with the sleeves of her dress, making sure her wrists were hidden, made Fee feel almost…
Well.
Not guilty, that’s for sure, because Worthingtons are never wrong.
(Although sometimes, in the darkest part of the night, after she’s finished imagining Pippa’s bare body writhing under hers, Fee thinks she doesn’t really want to be a Worthington.)
In any case, the day passed excruciatingly slowly, seconds dripping by like drops of honey. Fee couldn’t wait to get back to her room, to pull up her nightdress around her hips and think of the contrast of that deep purple ribbon against Pippa’s neck as she touched that secret part of her.
(The part of her that her father had never managed to touch, feeling things her father had never, never made her feel.)
Of course, because it seemed as though she was intent on ruining Fee’s life, Pip followed her upstairs, chattering inanely about a ball she was to attend over Christmas holiday.
Pippa may have made Felicity feel things that she’d never felt before, about anyone, but she still had the capacity to be the most irritating person in the world.
Fee snapped at her, of course, because she was in charge, she always was, and Pippa had to do what she said.
For once, though, Pippa didn’t listen, following Felicity into their shared room as though she hadn’t said a word.
And Fee had never suspected, not for an instant, that Pip knew about her feelings, knew how oddly, ardently, strongly Fee felt for her, because Pippa was entirely useless when it came to thinking about things other than dancing and fashion.
It seemed as though Fee had underestimated her, though, for Pippa walked across the room, shameless, and placed a kiss on Felicity’s lips.
Fee wondered what Pip would do if she tugged on that little strip of ribbon. It seemed she would be able to find out.