Hattie Glover’s Millinery

course not! I would never go to a man’s rooms.”
“So, under the cover of some tree branches you became familiar.”
She nodded. “We embraced and kissed as I told you, but I was too ashamed to say that I allowed him to… to…”
“It is all right. I will not judge you. What did you allow?”
“I allowed him to touch my bosoms,” she whispered. “Place his hand in the neckline of my bodice and actually touch them.”
“Did you allow him to touch you anyplace else? Perhaps somewhere below the waist?” Hattie pressed as suspicion began to grow.
“What do you mean?”
Good grief, she was going to make Hattie say it aloud. “Between your legs perhaps?”
“Heavens, no!”
“I do not mean to shock you, Miss Pruett, but I must ask if you know anything about the act that creates babies?”
“Well, he kissed me—very deeply, and he touched my bosom so…”
Her ignorance would have been comical if it weren’t so achingly pathetic. The partial truths or utter falsehoods girls shared with one another could easily be resolved by one plain talk with their mother telling them precisely what to avoid and why. But their virgin purity must ensure they remain ignorant to the realities of life until their wedding night.
“You are quite certain no part of him entered any part of you.”
Miss Pruett’s pink cheeks deepened to red. “Um, his t-tongue was in my mouth. Oh please, Mrs. Glover, don’t think ill of me! I didn’t mean to become so undone, but it felt so nice.”
“Calm yourself, dear. You have done nothing wrong, nothing that millions of other women before you have not done. No sort of kiss, no matter how deep, will impregnate you. Nor will touching a breast. Of that you may be certain. You cannot be with child unless…”
There she stalled. It was not her place to impart this information. And yet, she simply could not countenance poor Miss Pruett remaining ignorant about her own body worked.
“Unless what? Please tell me.”
Hattie’s face burned until she was quite certain it was as scarlet as Miss Pruett’s. She did not want to have this awkward conversation. “There are parts of a man’s body and a woman’s body that fit together…”
As she succinctly relayed the scientific particulars, Hattie’s mind returned to the previous evening. If kissing alone could make one pregnant, she would be well on her way. She had lost her head under bombarding waves of sensation and would gladly have invited Guy Hardy into her bed. Although his rejection embarrassed her, thank heavens one of them had had the presence of mind to stop things. What must he think of her unbridled display? Would he come back again? She believed so and very much hoped so, while at the same time wishing she’d never met the man who had stirred up a tempest in her calm teapot.
“And that is how one becomes with child,” Hattie completed her tutorial. “Do you have any further questions?”
Jennifer Pruett’s complexion had gone from scarlet to bone white. Her mouth hung open slightly as she digested the technicalities of intercourse. “Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why would any woman submit to that, let alone wish for it?”
Would this never end? Hattie carefully formulated her next words. “Sometimes, the woman performs the act because it is expected of a wife or because she wants children. But when she is very attracted to a man and her body has become… aroused, she may find pleasure in the, uh, the penetration.”
Miss Pruett remained unusually silent for a minute before replying, “I can’t imagine that.”
“Well, it is true. And now, if you have no further questions.”
“So you have done this act with Mr. Glover.” Jennifer shook her head, mouth turned down and eyes squinting. “And you liked it?”
“Honestly, Miss Pruett, I’ve already told you too much and have no other information to impart. Now that you understand what must happen, you can see there is no possibility of a pregnancy.”
“That is some comfort at least. But if I do not hear from Mr. James again, I shan’t be able to bear it, for he is the only man whom I could ever love, the only one with whom I could even imagine performing The Act.”
“The expression about plenty of fish in the sea is quite true, and you will survive this heartbreak,” Hattie said tartly, her patience with the dramatics wearing thin. “As for avoiding Bellamy’s proposal, I’ve given you my best advice and have nothing else to add.”
Jennifer draped herself over the table once more, head resting on crossed arms.
Hattie rose and circled the table to pat her back. “I’m terribly sorry, but I must work now. You may sit here while you gather your composure, and feel ready to leave.”
After another little pat, Hattie withdrew from the room to find Rose overwhelmed with customers. Several spring hats were wrapped and purchased or ordered to specification. Then the delivery man arrived to pick up the order for the Wicks’ wedding party. Hattie sent him to the alley entrance and went to open that door, only to find that at some time during the sales flurry Jennifer Pruett had left the shop. Sympathy for the girl’s predicament warred with relief that she was gone.
As Hattie loaded the young man’s arms with a stack of large hatboxes, she could not help but dwell on the previous night, Hardy’s masculine hands arranging the bridal veil on her head and caressing her face. She tingled even now recalling his dark gaze and fire rekindled deep within her. How wonderful it had felt to be held and kissed for the first time since Henry. For years, she had worked hard to suppress every natural urge in her body, but underneath, coals of desire had apparently been smoldering, for one breath from Guy Hardy had ignited her.
It was easy to speak to Pruett in platitudes about fish in the sea, but Hattie well knew that love, young love in particular, was not easily overcome—as she had learned due to Henry. She also