a hidden interest arose between you even when his hand touched yours at a time when she was not wearing a thin silk glove, which made you open your lips in surprise.

every time Jean hid a smile behind his hat when you got out of the carriage, giving him a suspicious look.

"we have maids for that." you said it bluntly when he entered your chambers with a tray of tea and chocolate.

"I just helped carry the tray."

"isn't your place in the stable?"

"my place is where you are."

even at that moment, after those words, you should have kicked out that arrogant groom who worked in your family's stable, but you didn't do that, which got you into trouble.

it doesn't matter, because when you're lying on the sheets surrounded by his warmth and the smell of straw emanating from him, when your blood is boiling in tension, just not to hear a knock on the door.…

his breathing is warm and steady, his hands strong and confident as they slide under your back, loosening the tightly tied lacing of your corset dress.

"how do you manage to breathe in this?" he murmurs into your lips with a smile, still hovering over you as his fingers move a little faster than necessary out of impatience.

Jean kisses your neck, his lips slowly moving down to your collarbones before he traces a path between your breasts with his lips, languidly stretching each kiss on your skin.

you understood that you were doing dirty things, that you had to be "clean" before marriage, but any moment with him justified your sins.

his hand shifts as he intertwines your fingers with his, as if to remind you that he is there, pressing your hand to the sheets.

"just tell me yes when I ask for your hand in marriage." he whispers. "I don't have anything right now, but I promise that I will achieve everything without hiding behind your status."