She half turned her head, then looked away again. ‘Are you some kind of savage? I thought you were sweet and gentle. Now you are being indecent. And horrible.’ She gave a little sob. ‘Men and women do not appear ... naked before each other.’
Rod held her shoulders and turned her on to her back. She gave him a startled glance, and then closed her eyes, tightly. ‘Let me go,’ she said, quietly enough. ‘Let me go, or I shall scream.’
He could not afford to lose either his courage or his ardour, now. Or he would be lost indeed, for there could be no going back. Besides, he was aware of being more than a little angry at the situation in which he found himself, and for which he had been so little prepared. But he remained reluctant to force her in any way. ‘That would be a silly thing to do, my darling girl,’ he told her. ‘When your mother spoke to you of marriage, did she not tell you what happens between husband and wife? How babies are born? Have you and Marguerite never discussed it?’
Her eyes opened again, more frightened than angry this time; nowshe was having unthinkable suspicions. ‘Do you take us for nigger women?’ she demanded. ‘You have placed this ring on my finger.’ She touched it. ‘When God wills it, I shall become pregnant.’
For a moment he almost despaired. If she wasthat ignorant ... but he could not afford to despair. And she had given him a possible lead. ‘Of course it is God’s will,’ he agreed. ‘But it is also God’s will that to make it happen, I must enter you.’
‘Enter ... ?’ She looked down at his penis again, then up at his face, then threw off his hands and sat up, throwing herself from the bed. She moved so quickly she took him by surprise, and he reached her just before she got to the door. Then he caught her by the back of her nightdress, which promptly ripped away from the shoulder straps. The material slid down past her buttocks and tripped her up, and he caught her as she would have fallen.
‘Let me go,’ she shouted. ‘Let me ...’ She turned in his arms to strike at him, and he reached behind her to turn the key in the lock, then swept her from the floor and carried her back to the bed, while she punched him and tore his flesh with her nails. ‘You are a monster,’ she panted, as he dumped her on the bed, removing the remnants of her nightgown as he did so. ‘A ...’ She discovered for the first time that she was as naked as he. ‘Oh, my God!’ she shrieked. ‘Help me!’ she screamed.
Rod wasn’t sure whether or not he heard footsteps outside the door; the blood was making too much noise as it drummed in his ears. ‘If you don’t shut up and stop fighting me,’ he said, catching her wrists to save his face from further scratches, and forcing them down on to the bed, one on either side of her head, while he threw his leg over her and thus straddled her thighs, ‘I am going to hit you.’
She snorted and panted, her breasts surging up almost to his own chest as she reached for breath. But every heave of her body beneath his made her touch him, and her movements slowly subsided, while her legs stopped kicking.
‘Now you listen to me,’ he said. ‘Putting a ring on your finger is a symbolic gesture. But we are not yet married. And we will not be married until we have consummated our union. That is the law, man’s law no less than God’s law. If it is something you had not expected, then I am sorry. I had supposed differently, or I would have acted differently. But it is done now, and must be completed. Do you understand me? I love you, and I shall try not to hurt you more than I have to. But Imust enter you, or I am not your husband.’
She glared at him. ‘I do not want you to be my husband,’ she snapped. ‘I cannot believe I ever wanted that. You are a despicable brute.’
‘I am going to be your husband,’ he said, still keeping himself under careful control, ‘because that is what we want, have wanted, all these past nine months. And because our marriage has been consecrated by the priest. All that now remains is the consummation. So behave yourself, and submit to me, and afterwards we will see if we can again be friends.’
She stared at him, her mouth twisting, her eyes dilating, but she was beginning to realise that she was at his mercy. ‘Then do it,’ she whispered at last. ‘Do it, and be done, and leave me alone. Forever.’
‘I cannot do it, right this minute. I must harden again. I must make love to you first.’ Her eyes widened again, and then clamped shut. He lay on her, kissed her mouth, but she would not respond. He stroked her breasts, and she shuddered. When he was ready, and parted her legs, her muscles stood out like ridges as she tensed herself. And when he entered her, she screamed, again and again, with every thrust, wailing her misery across the plantation.
Chapter Five: New Orleans and Long Island — I860
‘WELL, here’s a to-do,’ Wilbur Grahame said, and peered across his desk at his son-in-law’s face. ‘Did she really do that to you?’
‘She did,’ Rod said, determined to remain angry; quite apart from the pain of the scratches, and the scars they would undoubtedly leave behind them, it was his best, perhaps his only, defence.
‘She must be stronger than she looks. Jacob, some brandy for Mr Bascom.’ He leaned back in his chair. ‘Well ... there can’t be a soul on the plantation, including all the guests, that didn’t hear that racket. There was even talk amongst some of the Frogs of breaking the door down. I soon put a stop to that.’
Rod drank some brandy and felt better. Although it was again daybreak, he had not slept at all. ‘Well,’ he said, ‘for that at least I must be grateful, or I imagine I’d have fought a couple of duels by now.’
‘Not even a Froggie is going to come between a man and his wife, at least openly,’ Wilbur reassured him. ‘But there’s still talk that maybe you treated her badly. Maybe you should’ve let her go when you’d had her once. To keep her locked up in there all night, going at her time and again ...’
Rod glanced at Jacob, but the black man’s face was totally impassive. ‘I happen to be in love with her,’ he pointed out; that too was a very important defence to his actions. ‘And grew more in love with her as every second passed. I could not believe she would not come round and start acting sensibly.’
‘So now she’s in with her mother and Marguerite, claiming rape and God alone knows what else.’
‘She is my wife,’ Rod reminded him.
‘Oh, sure. So rape doesn’t come into it. But ...’
‘But nothing, Mr Grahame. I consider that Mrs Grahame has grossly neglected her duties as a mother in allowing Claudine to reach womanhood with so distorted an idea of what marriage is all about. She actually seemed to believe that once I had placed a ring on her finger, children would mysteriously appear.’
‘Hell, boy, her mother thought that too, when she and I were married. Still does, so far as I know.’
Rod stared at him in amazement. ‘But you have two children.’
‘Sure, but she doesn’t connect the two. Every time I mount her she reckons I’m giving way to masculine lust and grits her teeth.’
‘Then, sir, I think you have been damnably false in not acquainting me with the true situation.’
‘Not so fast, boy. I’m on your side.’
Rod frowned at him.
‘I’m not a fool, Rod,’ Grahame said. ‘I can see your face, and I saw Claudine’s body. There’s hardly a bruise on her save what you might describe as compatible with spending a night making love. I don’t believe a word she says about your beating her, and I don’t blame you in the least for screwing her. Like you said, she’s your wife. I guess she’s going to have to like it or lump it. Like her mother, she can lie there gritting her teeth.’
Rod scratched his head. ‘I had supposed you would require an annulment.’
‘Good God, no! An annulment? After she’s been opened up? Even if it could be done after that, hell’s bells, think of the scandal.’
‘You don’t think there’s going to be a scandal, now?’
Grahame grinned. ‘Gossip. That’s different. And most of it will be to your credit, if we tell everyone she was screaming with pleasure.’
&nb
sp; ‘My God! But she’ll tell them different.’
‘Now, boy, that’s up to you.’
Once again Rod frowned at his father-in-law.
‘I reckon she deserves whatever’s coming to her,’ Grahame said. ‘So you take her off honeymooning as planned, and if you have to, beat some sense into her, with my blessing. And get her pregnant.’
It sounded an entrancing prospect. Because however angry he had been, and still was, at the virtual fraud which had been practised upon him, having physically to conquer Claudine’s superb body had most powerfully aroused his senses, and he was sure that he could love her, given the opportunity. He had been reluctant to let himself feel he would never again possess her, which was one reason he had made love to her all night, until her screams and pleas for mercy, and his passion, had dwindled together in exhaustion. But now once again Wilbur Grahame was surprising him by his attitude — and yet, what was so surprising about it? He had made the decision that Rod would prove a valuable asset to the family. Having done that, as he had said, his daughter would have to like it or lump it, especially as she had so readily fallen in with his plans in the first place.
This was the first moment Rod had understood that Wilbur Grahame might have actually put the idea into Claudine’s head. But whether Grahame had or not, and whether Rod had been set up, as indeed he could perceive he had, it would now be foolish in the extreme not to see it through — and hope that he could.
He stood up. ‘I shall do my best,’ he said. ‘And Marguerite? And Mrs Grahame?’
‘You leave them to me, boy. We’ve had our differences before.’
Rod nodded, and went outside. He turned towards the guest wing, in search of Jerry, who would also be leaving today, and checked as he approached the stairs and saw Marguerite coming towards him, from the other end of the hall. She observed him at the same moment, and also stopped. Then they moved forward together, towards each other.
Her face was cold. ‘Are you going to seek the solace of your friend?’ she inquired.
‘I was going to say goodbye,’ Rod replied. ‘Shall we do it together?’
‘I do not think that would be a good idea, Mr Bascom,’ she said. ‘I do not think it would be a good idea for us ever to do anything together again.’
‘Now that’s going to be difficult,’ he told her. ‘As I’m going to be around for a long time.’ How he remembered her promise, that he would be miserable with Claudine, and that she would smile at his misery. But she was not smiling now. Instead she looked past him, understanding from whence he must just have come.
‘I see,’ she said.
‘Your father is not an easily misled man,’ Rod said, savouring his triumph.
‘I never supposed he was,’ she said, quietly. ‘Well, had you not better go and drag your victim, screaming, from her mother’s arms?’
‘Do you really think I am an ogre?’ he asked. ‘Areyou that easily misled? Do you not know what is required of a wife, either?’
She gazed at him for several seconds, then turned and walked away from him.
Rod climbed the stairs and knocked on Jerry’s door. Early as it was, Jerry was fully dressed, and the Negro slave appointed to serve him during his stay on Martine’s was just finishing packing his bags. ‘Do I countyou a friend, or an enemy?’ Rod asked.
Jerry grinned. ‘Perhaps you should count me a doctor. Those are terrible scratches.’
‘And they went very deep.’
‘I can believe that. So?’
Rod shrugged. ‘I am her husband, and will remain so. I suppose nothing ever comes to a man with unalloyed fortune.’
‘Now, there, you know, is almost a pity. I had supposed you might be accompanying me back north.’
‘With, or without, Claudine?’
‘That’s a question I’d prefer not to answer. I can only offer you my best hopes for your future. And perhaps a word of advice: the best horses are led to water, rather than driven.’
‘That was certainly my intention,’ Rod agreed. ‘But when intentions are compounded by passion ... would you have acted any differently, old friend?’
‘Probably not. It will come right in the end, I have no doubt. Meanwhile ...’ he held out his hand, ‘I must finish packing. Just remember that you have a large number of friends, who will stick with you, whatever the circumstances.’
‘That is certainly the quality of friendship,’ Rod agreed, shaking hands. ‘And is much appreciated. As I so appreciate your coming here, Jerry. I can only apologise for exposing you to such embarrassment.’
‘She’ll come round,’ Jerry said again.
*
He wondered what he did feel, as Rod left the room. He could not see himself forcing any woman, even if she was a recalcitrant wife. But Rod had certainly been within his rights to do so, as he was within his rights to be angry. And who could say howhe would react when the event was, as Rod had put it, compounded by passion? Perhaps he had never felt sufficient passion. He had been born to total security, and thanks to the reputation enjoyed by his forebears, he had known nothing but security all of his life. Nor had he ever experienced the passions of warfare, the emotion which demands that an enemy be killed, and thoughts of the man’s flesh and blood, wife and family, promise and achievement, totally banished from the mind. He had not even ever been in love, brought up as he had been to the sea; not for him, in this peaceful age of prosperous progress, the wildly romantic adventures of his grandfather, Toby McGann, or his greatgrandfather, the immortal Harry, both of whom had fought for their women when several years younger than himself.
Rod was different. He had experienced warfare, and then personal disaster, and had risen above it. He was far away from home and boyhood friends, from his roots. It would follow that he felt more deeply. And he was a gallant and determined fellow. If Claudine Grahame — or Claudine Bascom as she now was, and apparently would remain — did not learn to love him as he wanted to be loved, then the loss would be her own.
But it would also be Rod’s.
The slave closed the second bag, and made sure the lock was secure. ‘All done, sah,’ he said.
Thank you,’ Jerry said. He had not been able to accustom himself to treating any other human being as a thing, nor did he ever wish to do so. ‘I can carry them down myself.’
‘But you got for say goodbye to the master and the mistress,’ the slave pointed out, and then glanced at the door, as there came a gentle knock.
‘I’m here,’ Jerry called, and the door opened to reveal Marguerite Grahame.
She licked her lips, a quick movement of the tongue, strangely out of character for one so normally composed and confident. ‘I came to say goodbye.’ She looked at the slave.
Who looked at Jerry.
‘Perhaps you’re right,’ Jerry said. ‘I would be grateful if you’d carry the bags down for me, after all.’
‘Yes, sah.’ The man picked up the bags, one in each hand, glanced at Marguerite. ‘Miss Meg.’ Then he sidled through the door, hesitated in the corridor, and positively ran down it.
‘I think he is frightened of your size,’ Marguerite remarked.
‘I think he may be more frightened that you may be about to compromise yourself,’ Jerry said.
They gazed at each other, and then she closed the door, very deliberately. ‘Would that distress you, if I compromised myself with you?’
He considered the matter. He had certainly not come to New Orleans to find a bride. This was, indeed, the very last place on earth he would have looked for a wife, nor could he see himself ever accepting slavery as a part of life, the way, for instance, Rod had apparently done. But then he had never anticipated meeting anyone quite like Marguerite Grahame, even after Rod’s letters extolling the beauty of the two sisters. And where he had been content to admire from afar, enjoying the company she bestowed on him as Rod’s best man, but never suspecting and therefore never hoping for a moment that she could be the least interested in someone like himself ... it
now appeared that he might have been incredibly wrong. If only he could be sure that she did feel that way about him, and was not seeking some vengeance, or at least a counterweight, against Rod. But there was only one way to find that out. ‘It would please me very much,’ he said. ‘If I was sure you knew what you were about.’
‘You mean because of what happened to Claudine?’ She left the door, and came a little further into the room. ‘I should not scream, if that is what you are afraid of.’
There was pink in her cheeks at the boldness of her words, and her figure was perfectly delineated beneath the muslin house gown. She was by far the most desirable woman he had ever met, made the more so by his certainty that she wanted to be possessed, at least at this moment. But by whom? And did she really have any idea what was involved?
‘There are other things,’ he reminded her.
‘You will not give up the sea.’
‘That’s right.’
‘But in time the sea will giveyou up,’ she pointed out.
‘Why, there’s a point. But unlike Rod Bascom, when that happens, I will already have a home, to which I am tied by every bond known to man.’
Now it was her turn to consider. ‘New England,’ she said thoughtfully.
‘Long Island,’ he corrected. ‘I am also profoundly opposed to the concept of slavery. I could never live here, save by freeing your slaves and destroying your wealth.’
‘If you are that unbending a man, then your strength is far greater than your size, and your muscles. I love you.’
‘I do not think you can, on so short an acquaintance.’
She moved a step closer yet. ‘Must it be the fate of both the Grahame sisters to have to propose? Or have I already done so?’
She was very close now, and he could inhale her perfume. And he knew enough about her, from his observations over the past fortnight, to be sure that she counted no obstacle as insuperable. She meant to win him over to her point of view, and had no doubt at all that she could do so, given time. Well, it would be a pleasure to give her all the time in the world; he also had no doubts as to the eventual outcome, even if it would not be as she wanted. Thus it would be his business to winher. ‘No,’ he reassured her, untruthfully. ‘You have merely suggested that you might respond favourably tomy proposal.’ He held her shoulders, and brought her against him. She gazed at him with the utmost solemnity, and he realised that he had too seldom seen this girl smile. ‘I think I love you,’ he told her.
Iron Ships, Iron Men Page 12