He rubbed the tip of his nose against her cheek. “Yesterday evening I had to stop myself from knocking on your door again. Tonight I was sure I’d not be able to resist. But you’ve come to me instead! I can’t tell you how happy it makes me.”
“It’s not just any man I need, it’s you,” she whispered in his ear. “I’d never allow any other man to touch me as you have.”
He stroked her hair slowly with one hand and pulled it tenderly aside from her temple. “So you’ve been longing to feel me close, have you?” he asked softly.
“My whole body is heavy with longing for you.” Her voice was so hushed that he had to strain to hear her at all. “I’ve never known anything like it before in all my life.”
They realised now that there was nothing more they could say and the only sound in the bedroom was the gentle murmur of Cecilie’s excited breathing as Alexander let his tongue play slowly over her neck, across her breasts and down to her stomach. She moaned with pleasure as he caressed her and opened herself to him, waiting for his hand to reach the very centre of her being.
She caressed his scarred back with a growing urgency and gently ran her fingers around the wound that had healed so well. He in turn eased himself forward until he was on top of her and she could feel his lips against her cheek. He’d never kissed her properly, not since that first compulsory bridal kiss on the day they were married, and he didn’t do so either – a kiss was beyond everything else a gesture of true love, Cecilie reflected.
Then she let out a gasp of sudden shock and surprise. The blood rushed to her loins with such fury and yet such tenderness that she ached. Alexander had entered her!
“Alexander?” His name was on her lips and she looked up at him, eyes wide with wonder. “Oh, Alexander!”
“Hush!” he whispered, quivering, not daring to move. “Please don’t say anything!”
Cecilie realised how delicate the situation was. One unthinking word, one careless movement, might destroy this moment – as easily as dropping a crystal vase.
She could see the near panic in his eyes, the fear of what he’d done. He stayed very still, trembling slightly, barely breathing. Then slowly, tremulously, he began to move inside her. She held her breath, not daring to make the smallest movement. Her heart was pounding. Oh, God!
It was such ecstasy – she was truly ready – she must hold back.
But Alexander could feel her need, and he’d seen the passion on her face. He squeezed her shoulders and begged her to let go.
In an instant she climaxed tumultuously, the indescribable feelings arriving in a frenzied rush. Nothing else mattered. She heard herself cry out. She saw Alexander’s tortured face. She felt him writhing within her. Then she lost all sense of time and place and stopped caring about what happened.
They lay breathless side by side for a few minutes before Alexander got up and reached for his nightshirt.
“Forgive me,” he murmured, his voice hardly recognisable, and left the room in a great hurry.
Cecilie was stunned and lay on the bed without moving. ‘If he goes out to be sick now,’ she thought, ‘I’ll never forgive him.’ But Alexander did nothing of the kind. Instead, he stood in their anteroom and cried – a deep, heart-rending, frightful sobbing. He couldn’t have known how well he could be heard through the closed door and Cecilie listened to him, filled with the deepest compassion. She wanted so badly to go to him, to hold him and let him know he wasn’t alone, but he’d chosen to leave her and she knew that above all else he needed to be on his own for a while.
Eventually she crept quietly back to her room, her heart still racing, listening for any further sound of Alexander, but there was none. She didn’t know where he’d gone.
In the morning when she awoke, she found Wilhelmsen standing in the door of their rooms. From his grave face she could see that he had something of importance to tell her.
“Good morning, Wilhelmsen,” she said, enquiringly, “can I help you?”
“The Marquis said he didn’t wish to wake you up. He sends his compliments and says that he’ll be away for some time.”
Disappointment cut her like a knife. “Away?” she asked incredulously. “Do you mean he’s already left the house?”
“Yes.”
“When will he return?”
“He didn’t say. I don’t think he knew that himself.”
“And where did he go?”
“He didn’t tell me that either.”
“Thank you, Wilhelmsen!” She let out an agonised sigh. “That will be all.”
‘So I’ve finally lost him,’ she thought as the manservant silently turned and left the room. At that moment the pain of a deep and sudden despair bit into the very core of her being. ‘That must mean the dream’s over,’ she thought hopelessly. ‘Last night was more than he could take.’
Chapter 13
Over the next few days, no message arrived at Gabrielshus to tell Cecilie about Alexander’s whereabouts. Cecilie tried not to worry. She kept telling herself that at least he’d been considerate enough to leave the message with Wilhelmsen before his departure and that the best thing she could do was to be patient and just wait for news. Her hopes were raised briefly one morning when a personal message was brought to Gabrielshus by special courier. But Cecilie saw immediately that the message was in her mother, Liv’s, handwriting and not Alexander’s.
Once she’d got over her disappointment, Cecilie opened the letter and found that it was quite long. Liv obviously had many things she wanted to tell Cecilie about. It read:
Graastensholm, April AD 1627.
My dearest Cecilie,
Many things have been happening here, believe me. Are’s youngest son has behaved abysmally. He’s brought shame on the daughter of Niklas Niklasson of Hogtun, the owner of one of the largest estates in the district. Can you imagine? Brand only recently turned eighteen! Meta has locked herself away because she’s so ashamed and doesn’t want to speak to anyone. She’s always been looked upon as one of the most respected farmers’ wives in the district and now her son has brought disgrace on them.
Are is much more relaxed about it and is busy brewing beer and distilling brandy for the wedding, which will take place on Valpurgis Evening, the night before 1st May. It’s being held so soon because time won’t wait for them as you’ll undoubtedly understand. You and Alexander simply must come to the wedding – and Tarjei is back home with us, so you can meet up again. It’s a great comfort for Are and Meta to have him around. I’m sure you’ll agree that he’s so easygoing and relaxed.
We were so happy to hear that your dear Alexander’s health has now been restored. Thank God for that! The ways of the Lord are indeed past understanding. Besides, he’s never been here – your husband, I mean.
Cecilie crushed her handkerchief tightly. Would Alexander go to the wedding? She didn’t even know where he was! The letter continued:
I can’t imagine how this all happened because Brand has never been one for the girls. But I believe that the stable lad, Jesper, is partly to blame because he probably led him astray. That boy chases after girls all year round. They say that they were allowed to go to Hogtun as “night-suitors,” which as you know is the local tradition. This must have proved too much for Brand, unaccustomed to girls as he was. What’s more, I don’t even know how much he and his bride-to-be care for each other. It’s all very upsetting and the father, Niklasson, is absolutely fuming with rage! His wife is quietly pleased because she knows that her daughter could go to far worse homes than Linden Avenue. But she’s so young, only seventeen. Her name is Matilda. You’re bound to have met her many years ago.
Tomorrow I plan to go to Oslo and look for some material for a wedding gift, which I’ll sew for them. And, oh! How awful that Oslo is now called “Christiania!” it’s been like this for the past three years but I’ve only just learnt of it! I did hear a
story about the dear leader of our country, King Christian IV, who you meet occasionally. He was to establish the silver-mining town of Kongsberg, also three years ago as you know. But he’d drunk so much that when he was asked to point out where the town should be, he waved in completely the wrong direction. So Kongsberg, which was supposed to have been situated at a place called Saggranden, was instead built at Numedalslagen!
I don’t know if this story is true but it’s amusing, don’t you think? Mind you it’s a good thing that Silje didn’t hear it as she was so proud of our Royal Family. Ah, I miss both Silje and Tengel! You have no idea how difficult it is to be an elder and the most respected in the family. I don’t feel old at all and I don’t understand how I reached the age I have. And yet I have two wonderful grandchildren, Kolgrim and Mattias.
But I shouldn’t speak of grandchildren when you’ve lost your own longed-for child. How are you keeping, my dearest? Now, I won’t pry, but it’s been two years since it happened and you know how a mother grows impatient to be a grandmother again! Forgive me, Cecilie dear, if I’m meddling in matters that make you feel unhappy!
Cecilie broke off from her reading. ‘Dear tactful mum – who’s said nothing for two years,’ thought Cecilie. If only her mum could imagine the scale of her other difficulties and their bizarre nature! Her thoughts started to spiral downward again, so she mustered all her strength and continued reading.
I spoke to Are yesterday. He’s worried about Tarjei, who must have experienced some awful things during the war. He sometimes has nightmares and wakes everybody up, shouting and yelling. It would seem that in his nightmares he’s afraid that the dreaded Devourer of Corpses is coming to take his dead brother, Trond – or that Trond was the Devourer himself! It’s a tragedy that the poor boy should have seen so much death and violence at such a young age!
Your dad likes Alexander very much, and so do I. We’ll both be happy to see him here at Graastensholm so you must promise to come, Cecilie. Both of you, please!
I’m always thinking of you, dearest.
Your affectionate mum.
Cecilie let out a sigh as she put the letter aside. She felt very homesick. Everything now seemed so hopeless.
More days passed and still Alexander didn’t send a message or return. Cecilie lay awake every night, her tangled emotions passing from desire to anxiety – and then to intense disappointment that he didn’t care. At least he could have told her where he was going or where he was now.
At long last, after he’d been gone for fourteen days, a letter arrived. By this time, Cecilie had allowed her anxiety to defeat her shame and had asked friends and acquaintances if they knew of his whereabouts.
When she looked at the letter, she was surprised to see that it was dated the day after Alexander had disappeared. So he’d wanted to tell her after all. But the letter service could never be relied upon. In the meantime, the letter had apparently been held up somewhere along the way.
Although she could hardly wait to begin reading it, part of her was in fear as to what the letter would say. For several minutes she stared at the outside of it, trying frantically to guess what it might contain. Was it the final death knell? Would it dash all her hopes beyond any shadow of a doubt? Or was there a slight chance that the news might be good? Her thoughts were in turmoil and when she couldn’t bear the suspense any longer, she tore it open with her heart pounding in her ears and started to read. In the letter Alexander said:
My dearest, sweetest girl!
What can I write, what can I say that will express the chaos that rages in my soul? First of all: thank you for last night! And please try to forgive my hasty departure. But believe me, there wasn’t anything else I could do. Please understand that what happened was as great a discovery for me as when I found that I wasn’t like other men.
Cecilie paused. She thought that this was something she could understand. She could only guess at the scale of the emotional impact, but of course it would have been overwhelming. She read on.
I couldn’t explain what had happened, Cecilie, since I thought I was unable of making love to a woman. I don’t think it could have happened with any woman but you. Because you’re very special to me. You know that!
Cecilie didn’t realise it, but a glowing smile lit up her face as she kept reading.
The experience was so overpowering that I had to try and make sense of it on my own. I don’t think I’m one of those who can readily switch from one sex to the other with ease. But it now seems that I’m hanging in mid-air and I feel that I must choose one side or the other. Do you understand? That’s why I’m travelling to meet my old friends so that I can find out what I feel for them.
Hans Barth is in prison and he disgusts me, so I’ll avoid him. But I’d like to meet my friend Germund once again. He never knew anything of my early dreams. I’ll also visit a friend who tried to rekindle a relationship at the ball at Frederiksborg. There are one or two others who are pleasant company. But believe me when I tell you that I only intend to pass the time and talk with them. I must be sure of my emotions. I need to know!
Try to be patient with me, dearest! This is so difficult and so sensitive that I feel I’m walking on a thread stretched across a bottomless pit. You must remember that it wasn’t so long ago that I swore that I could never have any feelings for a woman! Please don’t be sad during this time, Cecilie. If you’re prepared to wait for me at Gabrielshus, despite the knowledge that you may be greatly disappointed, then I’ll be grateful to you forever.
I never realised that it could be so wonderful to lie in a woman’s arms! Or to be more precise, in your arms! But maybe that was something I felt unconsciously at the very beginning of our friendship. I don’t know. But it’s something I must find out about once and for all – and come to know myself for what I really am beyond any shadow of a doubt.
I thank you, dearest Cecilie, for all your kindness and patience.
Your difficult but affectionate husband,
Alexander
Cecilie remained seated, sapped of all strength, with the letter resting in her lap. He had wanted to put her mind at rest after all by writing a letter the day after he’d left. Now she couldn’t blame him for her two weeks of torment. But whether the letter had calmed her many fears was doubtful. Very doubtful.
***
Cecilie was surprised when Alexander returned to Gabrielshus the very next day. She saw him get off his horse and went out on the steps to greet him. A spring breeze was sweeping across the yard as he came towards her and she could see he was watching her expression closely to see if he could detect a hint of her mood.
“Welcome home, Alexander,” she said, her voice strained. “I’m happy to see you.”
“Thank you, Cecilie. I’m very glad to be back. Did you receive my letter?”
“Yesterday.”
“Only yesterday?” he exclaimed, pausing in the act of opening the door for her. “Then, all this time – you haven’t known?”
“No.”
She replied as calmly as she was able to, but her tears were very close. A fierce anguish was burning inside her as she tried to anticipate from his expression and manner what he’d decided.
“Oh, my dear Cecilie,” he said, clearly upset. “Have you been – concerned for my whereabouts?”
“When your letter arrived, I was about to begin a humiliating journey to seek news of you. I’ve been so worried as you’ll understand, both for you – and for your decision.”
For the first time he noticed how pale she was. He opened the door for her to go in and they found Wilhelmsen waiting respectfully inside.
“Hello, Wilhelmsen,” he said. “Like the prodigal son, I have returned. Fetch a carafe of something strong and tasty and two glasses, please! Serve it in the small drawing room and then see that we’re not disturbed, will you?”
When Alexander had poured a g
lass for each of them and persuaded Cecilie to take a sip, he sat back in his favourite armchair. The wheels had long since been removed, and she faced him from the other large armchair that had become hers. This was where they would normally sit whiling away long winter evenings playing chess and a variety of board games.
“Cecilie, I’m so sorry that I’ve caused you two weeks of turmoil. If only I’d known – well. But now I’ll tell you what I’ve decided.”
She sat bolt upright in the chair, gathering all her powers of self-control. In his turn, Alexander seemed to be doing the same. They gazed at each other in silence for a time; then he drew a long, deep breath.
“First of all, I visited my old friend, Germund, as I said I would. I stayed with him and his wife in their beautiful home for four or five days, just to be absolutely sure of my feelings. But I didn’t feel the slightest pang of envy or the wish to get closer to him. So that relationship is very much a thing of the past, and as you know that was the strongest I ever felt for anyone.” He chuckled. “All I felt when I saw the happiness their family shared was a strong desire to be with you.”
Cecilie dared to smile, a cautious, trembling smile because she knew there was still much more he had to tell her. After looking at her uncertainly, Alexander stood up again and began pacing back and forth.
“I’m too nervous to sit still, Cecilie! Anyway, I stood by my decision to complete my journey and visit all my old friends. I’ve met all three of them, and I was given clear signals, even intimate suggestions – careful hands placed on my arm or rested on my shoulder ...” He fell silent.
She waited a few seconds. “And?” she prompted.
Alexander walked over to her. He took her hands and drew her up from the chair. He grasped her shoulders and she looked up at him. He was almost a head taller than her, and as she looked into his face again, she realised once again how incredibly handsome he was.
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