by May Burnett
She smiled. Would he continue to take her wishes into account in future years? “I would like to spend at least one day seeing the city and lake, as I have only caught intriguing glimpses so far, and maybe do a little more shopping, with Mme Tarcassi’s advice; then I am also ready to continue our journey to England.”
“Aren’t we going to toast the newly married couple? I would like to drink to my sister’s health and happiness.” Margaret did not sound pleased that her younger sister was consulted about their travel plans, and not she. Emily would have to be tactful so as not to constantly ruffle her feathers during the remaining journey.
“Indeed,” Anthony said, and gestured to the waiter hovering at the back to uncork the bottle. There was a popping noise, and everyone was served a glass of the bubbly beverage.
“To my sister!” “My cousin!” “My wife!” “Madame”!
Tsien put his glass down after a small sip. “This is your traditional drink for special occasions?”
“It is an acquired taste,” Anthony explained. “Give it a chance, Tsien. Remember that I also needed time to appreciate Chinese liquors.”
“What a waste,” Sir Conrad murmured under his breath, and drank again from the pale yellow liquid, sighing in appreciation. Emily suspected her husband had ordered the best vintage to be had. She was not sure if she entirely liked the unaccustomed taste herself.
“For my part, I appreciate a true masterpiece of the vintner’s art,” Signora Tarcassi declared, confirming Emily’s suspicion. “This is slightly on the dry side, exactly as most connoisseurs prefer.”
“We can try different varieties on our way home, as we shall be crossing France,” Anthony said. “Their non-sparkling wines are also worth drinking.”
“So now we are related by marriage,” Conrad said to Anthony as the waiters began to serve carefully selected delicacies. “How strangely fate works! Had I not suggested that detour to Verona less than a month ago, you would not be a married man now, Wetherby.”
“As you say, it must have been fate that drew us to that city,” Anthony replied easily. “Providence decided that it was time for the Bellairs ladies to return to their native shores, and we were but its humble instruments.”
Sir Conrad did not look humble at all. “Emily said you live in London most of the year? I shall pay my respects to your lady, and her lovely sister, as soon as we are all in London again.”
“You can always find me through a message at White’s, but we may not stay in London for long. My sister and her husband will insist on a visit to their home, I imagine. I do not know where they are fixed this winter.”
Emily twitched. It was the first she had heard of the plan, and she was uncertain how she felt about it. All would depend on how she was received by her in-laws. And what of Margaret? Would she come along on that visit? Would she be welcome?
“How long do you suppose it will be until our mother can join us in England?” Margaret asked. Her thoughts must have moved along similar lines.
Anthony shrugged. “We do not know if that leg was a simple break or something worse. I have looked for a suitable courier to bring her to England here in Geneva, and believe I have found the right person; but I want Emily’s advice before engaging her.”
“A woman?” Sir Conrad frowned. “I am not sure –“
“An energetic woman would be best, in my view,” Emily supported her husband. “Thank you for consulting me, Anthony. I would like to give my own instructions to this courier, so she treats my poor mother with patience.”
“Is this woman Swiss?” Tsien asked with interest. “She had better speak Italian.”
“Mrs Cantrey is an English widow fixed in Geneva for the time being,” Anthony said. “She speaks French and a little Italian, but her main qualification is her force of character. You will see what I mean when I present her to you, Emily.”
“As Mrs Bellairs’ nephew, I am obliged to you,” Sir Conrad said to Anthony. “Let me know when my aunt arrives in London, so I can pay my respects, and ask after her health. Will she be residing with you?”
“At first, undoubtedly, but we shall see what she prefers once she is well. She may prefer Bath, or some other salubrious spot.”
“Thank you, Anthony,” Emily said again. “You are the best thing that ever happened to our family.”
“You can demonstrate your gratitude soon enough,” Signora Tarcassi said with a broad smile. “Indeed, I believe we should not linger any longer than necessary over this delicious fare.”
Emily blushed, while everyone else grinned knowingly.
Chapter 21
What passes amongst a couple intimately should neither be discussed with outsiders, nor is it proper matter of speculation.
Maxims for Young Gentlewomen, Vol. 2, by a Lady (1824)
“My lady,” Anthony said, drawing Emily into his bedroom. She watched from the middle of the room, immobile, as he carefully locked the door. Locked doors had always before had something of the illegal, forbidden about them.
“We would not want to be interrupted,” she said, “but I hope there is no fire in this hotel tonight.”
Anthony smiled at her. “Don’t worry, we won’t be asleep, and should have ample time to escape.” He scrutinized her face. “Are you nervous, Emily?”
“Only a very little. I trust you, and I am curious to know what all the secrecy and whispering is about.”
He stilled in the act of removing his neck-cloth. “You don’t know?”
“Well, I know the theory, but it is not the same as the reality, I imagine. I know how one moves the arms when swimming, but actually swimming in a lake or sea would still be an entirely new experience.”
“You have never done so?”
She moved to the fireplace, warming her hands. “No more than I have done these things we are about to try tonight, Anthony.” After a moment she admitted, “I have thought about doing them with you ever since our first marriage in Verona.”
“You cannot have imagined that more fervently or more often than I.” His eyes devoured her. “This dress, while lovely, has too many buttons. Since your maid is staying with your sister tonight, I shall have the privilege of helping you undress. It feels like unwrapping the most delicious gift one could receive.”
“I am not quite clear on that part. Do we undress completely?” In some situations that could be rather chilly.
“How do you usually sleep?”
“In a nightshirt.” Emily looked around for her luggage, which was supposed to have been delivered ahead of her arrival. “It must be somewhere here. Signora Tarcassi bought a new one for the occasion, of sheer primrose silk.”
“I look forward to seeing you in it, but it is not needed tonight. We have a warm fire, and privacy. I would very much like to see you naked, Emily, like those ancient Roman statues. The human body is a thing of beauty.”
“But most of those statues are of men,” Emily objected. “Will I also see you …?” Her voice refused to pronounce the shocking word.
“Unless you have any objection to the sight? There is nothing wrong about seeing one’s wife or husband without clothes. Of course,” he added, considering, “in some circles people prefer to keep nightclothes on throughout, and only engage in intimate relations in the dark. That seems a great waste to me, however. I like to see what I am doing.”
“In the dark? That would involve a lot of fumbling, I imagine.”
He chuckled. “Very likely. Though without the nightclothes, that could be fun too, once in a while. The other senses are heightened when you take away sight.”
He clearly knew a great deal more than she. With how many women had he practiced? Her husband probably would not fumble even in pitch darkness.
“I am willing to follow your guidance, Anthony. Show me what to do.”
“Just relax for now.” He had taken off his jacket and neck cloth and boots, but was still wearing the rest of his clothes. “May I?”
She nodded, and stood
still as he deftly dealt with the tiny buttons and hooks and carefully pulled the gown over her head without disturbing her hair, then found and discarded every single hairpin. She had never stood before a man with her hair down, in her underwear. The unusual sight did not faze her husband at all. He proceeded to unroll her stockings, untie her stays, pausing now and then to kiss and pass his warm palms along the patches of skin he discovered along the way. For some reason Emily’s breathing was getting a little choppy. Although she was shedding clothes, she felt warmer with each layer he removed.
“You are still dressed,” she said when she only retained her chemise.
“That is easily dealt with. Would you like to undress me, or shall I do it myself?”
“Let me try, but I am not as quick as you.”
“Take your time, my dear.”
His skin was even hotter than hers felt, when her hand touched his throat, and the hard planes of his shoulders and back. What she uncovered was far more compact than she would have guessed from his slender appearance; he was all muscle, lean and firm. A smattering of light-coloured hair grew on his chest; he had nipples, just like she did, but his were small and flat.
Once his upper body was naked, she looked her fill in the flickering light of the fireplace and the candles. He did resemble one of those Roman or Greek statues. Would Emily’s slighter figure measure up to his standards?
From the admiring, warm gaze he turned on her, her husband did not have any complaints. “You are loveliness itself,” he murmured, reverently caressing her arms and waist.
Her admiration emboldened her. “Shall I take off the chemise too?”
“Nothing would please me more.”
He did not look away for an instant as she slowly removed her last garment, and let it drop to the carpet. His eyes were very dark.
“Now you,” she demanded, and he instantly complied. Yet when she saw his member for the first time, jutting straight ahead, she averted her gaze in momentary shyness.
“Is it so frightening?” There was a trace of humour in his voice.
“It looks much bigger and more prominent than on statues.”
“That is because my member is aroused. In most statues this body part is shown quiescent, often covered with leaves; that way it is less likely to break off. When I am around you, Emily, it grows and straightens.”
She was a married woman, and allowed to look. Under her timid gaze, his member jerked a little and grew even more, straining in her direction.
“It seems to have a life of its own,” she ventured.
“You are torturing me, Emily. Come here for a kiss.”
She closed the short distance, and felt his naked, strong arms envelop her, his warm skin touch hers in multiple places. That part was nestling against her lower stomach, unmistakeable in its hardness, but she forgot all about it in the heat of a deep kiss. Her breasts felt sensitive, rubbing against his hard chest.
“Come to bed, Emily.”
She followed him willingly. The difficult part was yet to come, but she was determined to be brave.
Half an hour later she ruefully acknowledged to herself that no bravery had been necessary after all. Anthony had skilfully distracted her with his hands and tongue till he drove all thought away and only sensation remained.
When he entered her at last there had been a momentary twinge, immediately forgotten in the strangeness of the new experience, and the pleasure of having him so close, joined with her. His own pleasure was unmistakeable: he kept telling her how much he enjoyed making love to her – till words and thoughts failed him too, near the culmination of his efforts.
This act could create a new life inside her. It was a mystery and miracle. That liquid must have been his seed – though how could the seed of a big human be so very tiny? It made no sense, but this was not the moment to puzzle about it.
“Have you recovered your breath, darling?” Anthony himself had been out of breath even more than she, but from his voice, had regained his stamina.
“Yes, and my mind is working once again, at least after a fashion. You practically shut it off there for a while, Anthony.”
“That is supposed to happen. If you were able to think throughout – or I – I would be doing it wrong.”
“Is it always like this?”
“It will get better with practice. For your first time I think we managed very well, - excellently well – a good omen for the future. I plan to do this very often, even in the daytime, and it is my aim to make you enjoy it as much as I already do.”
“Just tell me what I should do differently. I have a feeling that I should not be so passive next time.”
“From that remark, I infer that you have a natural talent for making love. At this moment you cannot imagine the pleasures yet in store, but it will be my honour and privilege to show them to you. Beginning right now, unless you are sore.”
“Again? How often can one do it in one night?”
“We are about to find out.”
***
By next morning she was sore after all, and exhausted to the smallest bone of her body. So this was debauchery, - or would be if they were not respectably married. Did other married couples engage in such heated and passionate embraces? She tried to imagine any of her acquaintances coupling the way they had done over the long Swiss night, but her imagination failed her. Did that mean Anthony and she were overdoing it? In the end Emily decided that a wedding night had to be more intensive than the normal routine of married life, since each partner brought the pent-up desire of the betrothal period to the occasion.
So in all likelihood this aspect of her married life would settle down eventually. Not too quickly, she found herself hoping, even if it meant she would be sore more often.
A bath was ready for her, strewn with rose petals, rose oil mingling with the water. She stretched her tired muscles, let the warmth seep into her pores.
“You look delectable like that, and smell even better,” Anthony observed. He was already bathed and fully dressed. In her deep sleep she had not noticed when he got up.
“How late is it?”
“Nearly one, lunchtime for the citizens of Geneva. We shall be combining lunch and breakfast when you are dressed. We expended much energy overnight, and need to replenish it – at least I do.”
“I would not mind eating, but I want coffee most,” Emily decided. “This feels pleasantly decadent. Rose oil is expensive.”
“You will get used to expensive things in no time,” he predicted. “This was chosen by your maid, but you can try out different fragrances until you find which you prefer. As long as it does not make me sneeze – my nose has an aversion to carnations, for some reason.”
“No carnations,” she promised. “They are nice to look at, but I am not partial to their perfume either.”
“I have a confession to make.” Anthony sat down in the armchair as she passed the sponge under her arms. His expression was serious.
Emily paused in sudden alarm. A confession, at such a moment? Horrible possibilities - of previous wives, fatal diseases, illegitimate children or huge gambling debts - flashed through her mind in an instant. But no, she would not give in to panic before she had heard him out.
“You alarm me. Pray let me know the worst, I cannot stand any suspense after such a beginning.”
“You are not merely Mrs Wetherby. I have found it expedient to travel without using my title, but when we return to England you will find you are Lady Pell, my marchioness.”
“A marchioness?” Emily dropped the sponge into the water in her surprise. “That is one of the highest titles, only just after a duchess! Are you joking?”
“No, I am quite in earnest, my dear. Since I inherited the title some years ago, most girls I met only saw the marquis, not the man. Sometimes I myself was not sure where one ended and the other began. It was a wholesome experience to put the title aside for the last two years, and make my way across the continents as plain Mr. Wetherby. I found
and wed you without having to worry about your motives, Emily. I shall always be glad of that.”
“But, Anthony, in my position as a poor relative you were already almost as far above me, as if I had been aware of your title. Indeed, knowing about it would have given me pause. I am not sure I can do justice to such a position. I was not brought up to it.” She wished she were not sitting in the bathwater when they were discussing such an important matter.
“You are young and intelligent, Emily, you will soon learn, and I shall support you as long as it is necessary. If you could adapt to life in Italy, this will be comparatively easy. By the time we arrive in England you will have accustomed yourself to the idea, and belonging to the aristocracy offers many advantages. Not having to worry about the gossip of the masses, or about the cost of things… I used to be a spendthrift, but this journey has taught me the value of many things. Above all, I know the value of a sweet, loyal wife.” He smiled at her.
Emily’s head was whirling. She might have guessed from details he had casually dropped that Anthony was not just a rich commoner. But a Marquess! She outranked his sister the Countess! It quite turned all her ideas of the future upside down. “I feel strange, but I daresay I shall become used to the notion.” Another thought struck her. “Oh, good heavens, what will Margaret say? She was always more ambitious than I, and is less than pleased that I married before her. When she learns of this -!”
“She will have to know eventually, but we can wait until we arrive in England before we tell her.”
“Does Tsien know? Sir Conrad?”
“No, I did not tell anyone I met on my travels. You are the first to learn of it, which is only right, as it affects you most.”
“Hmm.” She pressed out the sponge and replaced it on its porcelain dish. “I had better get out of the water, and face my first day as your wife, Anthony. Being your wife is more important than the title.”