Now he was here, hovering over her, filling her bedchamber as he had filled her mind, threatening to solve the mystery, to make her whole—and all she could do was tremble.
She felt his fingers fumble with the ribbon on her wet chemise. She heard the wet satin squeak when he untied it. She inhaled a deep draft of his scent, his wonderful clean, masculine scent. In that instant, the image of Annie sprang to mind, Annie twirling her finger into Tyler’s navel, Annie…
Without one smidgen of light, he deftly slipped the tiny buttons out of their loops, opening her camisole down the middle. Just as dexterously, he laid the two halves aside, pushing them off her breasts. His rough hands slid over her skin, cupped her bare breasts; his lips followed. With a low moan of satisfaction she couldn’t have stilled had she known it was coming, she clasped his head and pressed it to her. This was what she had craved, yearned for—but now, strangely, receiving it only called forth deeper, more intense yearnings.
But as her emotions soared, the image of Tyler and Annie returned. She recalled the first time she ever saw the girl, dropping her kimono, exposing breasts twice the size of Madolyn’s. She spoke out of desperation, without design or forethought. “Is this what you do with Annie?”
Tyler reacted as though she had slapped his face. Jerking his lips from her breast, he sat back, straddling her. His face was lost in shadow, but his wonderful presence loomed over her. Light from the parlor silhouetted his head and wide shoulders.
“Say that again.”
“Is this what you do with Annie?”
“Damnation, Maddie! What a thing to ask.”
“I’m sorry. The idea was…I mean, suddenly I remembered seeing her in your room.”
“In my room?”
“In the doorway. That first morning. When you were so brusque.”
“Brusque? With Annie?”
“With me.”
“I was never brusque with you.”
“Yes, you were. After Annie left.”
“Maddie…” His voice caressed her like a warm spring breeze. “I’ve never…been with Annie.”
“You were that morning.”
“The first mornin’ you were here? She brought my breakfast. And my ironin’. She does my ironin’. For pay. Money.”
Money. Oh, my. Relief soared inside her. But she couldn’t help pursuing the topic. “It looked like she spent the night.”
“With me?”
“Sounded like it, too, by the way you shouted at me.”
“I didn’t shout at you.” Suddenly, he dropped his arms, clasped her to his chest, and rolled them to the side. She felt his heart thrum against her. He spoke into her damp hair. “If I did, it was because I didn’t want you to think I had slept with Annie.”
“When you had?”
His arms tightened. “No, I hadn’t. I’ve never slept with Annie. I’ve never been on a bed with her. I’ve never…” He rolled her back, slipped the wet camisole from her body and cast it aside. Tenderly, he cupped her breasts.
“I saw them once,” she said.
“What?”
“Her breasts.”
“Annie’s?”
“Yes.”
Tyler groaned. “This isn’t the sort of conversation we should be havin’ right now.”
“The first day you brought me here. Lucky explained the shortage of water. After my bath, I offered my water for someone else…another woman.”
“Lucky brought Annie up here? To your room?”
“It was before I knew…what went on here.”
He groaned again.
“Annie marched right in and dropped her kimono to her feet. There they were.”
“They?”
“Her breasts.”
“Maddie…”
“I’d never seen another woman…unclothed. They were large.”
“Maddie, don’t.”
“Much larger than mine. Does it…matter?”
“Matter?” His hands stilled on her breasts. For a long time he didn’t answer the question he had repeated. When at length he spoke, his voice was low and husky. “I’ve never seen Annie’s breasts. Never touched them…never…But they couldn’t be as beautiful as yours.”
Her heart stopped. As if to resurrect her, he began to caress her breasts, showering her with sweet agonizing sensations. When he bent his head and took one in his mouth, she held his head as though she feared he might let her go.
There was no chance of that, not through the ensuing hour. While he stripped away her bloomers, then his own clothing, he kept up a gentle prattle, reassuring her, soothing her. At least, she decided that was his purpose. She could have told him he was wasting his breath. Her head spun in dizzying circles, dizzying, sweet, sensual circles all filled with Tyler—his hands, his lips, his low husky voice.
Tyler can teach you, Goldie had said, but until this morning, Madolyn hadn’t imagined what lessons were to be learned.
She was lost from the first, for time after time her body overrode her brain’s objections. The first contact of his nude body with hers was so startling she almost jumped out of her own skin.
“No. No.”
“There, there, Maddie. I won’t hurt you. Get used to me.” Clasping her hands in his, fingers entwined, he eased his body over hers. His furry, muscled legs entrapped hers. She seemed aware of each silky hair.
The effect was astounding. Much like when she dipped her head in the basin of cold water, the shock to her system was followed by pure, sweet acceptance.
For the longest time he didn’t move, then when he did, it was to kiss her lips, a soft, tender kiss. She felt her breasts peak into his chest hair; she felt her heart throb against his ribs; she felt his heart pound in echo.
Then suddenly she knew no more. Her senses reeled with lovely, fiery, nonsensical things—the ragged sound of his breathing, the faint scent of his shaving soap, the salty taste of his skin, and the feel of him, the wonderful, vitalizing feel of his skin touching hers—his hands, his lips, his legs.
None of it threatened, which was a surprise, albeit one she couldn’t investigate, since her ability to reason was curtailed by the intense passion he drew from her.
His large, skilled hands roamed everywhere, tracing gentle, fiery caresses over her body, across her body, inside her body. Before he was through, she knew his body better than she knew her own. She could recognize the feel of each finger, his index finger from his pinkie, and wherever each touched, it burned.
Every touch of his lips became the loving answer to a new, yet familiar quest. He kissed her lips, her face, her neck, her breasts; then lower, his tongue traced a wide and rugged trail across her abdomen.
Her breath caught, her hips lifted, and her brain soared out of control. By the time she felt him burrow his way, hot and rigid, into her begging core, she was in agony.
“It’ll hurt a little, Maddie,” he crooned into her ear. “Don’t be frightened.”
Frightened? How could she be frightened, when she had never wanted anything so badly in her life. Having never considered such a thing, she was nevertheless positive this and this alone could satisfy the fierce craving that consumed her. In search of an ancient elixir, she tightened her hold around his neck. “Don’t stop, Tyler. Please.”
It hurt a little. But the hurt was nothing compared to the stunning sense of joy that seared through her. He lifted her slowly heavenward, then thrust her into oblivion—again and again, until her passions exploded, completing her quest, leaving her breathless and trembling and more joyous than anyone could ever possibly have been, ever on the face of the earth.
He lay beside her, close beside her, cradling her in his all-encompassing embrace. His breath gusted heavy and humid into her hair. For endless moments they lay bound together in silence; indeed, she had trouble thinking, much less speaking. She had never felt such oneness.
When she found her voice, it rose in thanksgiving—for the joy, for the pure joy of what he had given her. “I didn’t know any
thing could be so powerful, so personal. I’m glad you never did anything like this with Annie.”
His damp arms tightened around her. “Even if I had, it wouldn’t have been makin’ love.”
It took a moment for his words to penetrate the emotional barrier left over from their…Their…? “Making love!”
“Whoa, Maddie. I didn’t mean…uh, I mean, damnation! It’s just an expression.” Lifting himself on an elbow, he tried to brush a curl off her forehead, but his familiar presence had suddenly become ominous, threatening. She pushed his hand aside.
The spell had been broken. Shattered. By reality.
She bolted up, dropped her feet to the floor and reached for her dressing gown. “Love is the most horrible word in the English language.”
Thirteen
Long after Tyler left the suite, Madolyn lay on her bed, draped in her dressing gown, pondering the disastrous turn her life had taken.
Every sinner paid the piper, Miss Abigail was fond of claiming. Of course the founder of the Boston Woman Suffrage Society hadn’t been talking about one of their very own, a woman tapped to follow in her own giant footsteps.
That was one thing Madolyn would never do now—follow in Miss Abigail’s footsteps. She wasn’t worthy to clean the woman’s privy. Not after the disgraceful way she had followed Goldie’s advice and the disastrous consequences.
Making love! The term showered her with sweet waves of longing, chased by utter despair.
The morning had accomplished one thing: A question that had troubled her for far too long had been answered by that marvelous experiment in her bedchamber. A question that had haunted her every time she recalled her mother’s nocturnal screams, or consoled a bruised and battered wife.
Why did women fall into the trap of marriage? Why, when the consequences were so dire? So deadly?
Why, indeed? Now she knew the answer to that question, and it was as she suspected that first night, when Tyler kissed her into oblivion.
The male species used the most devastating weapons of all—tenderness and a sensuality that snared a woman the way a spider web trapped a fly.
“Come into my parlor,” the nursery rhyme invited. And women came, by the droves, convincing themselves against overwhelming odds that this was one man who would remain true to his courtship lies. That hers was the man among men who would remain tender and loving after the vows were exchanged.
Hogwash! Madolyn had seen the results of too many such experiments. Oh, there were women who claimed to be happily married. But were they? Really? Behind the closed doors of their homes, of their bedchambers, were they truly free, as human beings were born to be free?
Perhaps a woman with no experience to the contrary could be excused for falling into the tender trap. But not one as world-wise as Madolyn.
Not one who had grown up to the sounds of reality being played out in her own home night after terrifying night.
When a knock came at her door this time, Madolyn called for identification, even though she was sure it would be Lucky.
Tyler wouldn’t return. Not after the way she sent him off. Oh, how it had pained her to do so. She had been unable to control her tears. They had run in embarrassing streams down her cheeks when she told him to leave and to never, never touch her again.
“Damn, Maddie, I didn’t go to upset you. You said you wanted it, too.”
“I did.”
“Well…wasn’t it good? Didn’t you enjoy it? Did I hurt you?”
“Not yet.”
“Not yet? What the hell does that mean?”
“You know perfectly well, although I’ve never known a man who would admit it.”
“You’re not makin’ sense, Maddie. You wanted it. I tried…I thought you enjoyed it. A woman doesn’t usually enjoy the first time she makes love, but I promise…”
“There you go again. Calling it…” Her voice broke, but she forged ahead, for she wasn’t one to leave a person with no explanation. “…what it was.”
“Maddie, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean…”
“I know what you meant and what you didn’t mean. I’ve known for a long time how men get their way with women. Of course, I never experienced it firsthand until today.”
“I am not deceitful!”
“You’re a man.”
“And damned proud of it. I wouldn’t be a…a…fragile, weepin’ female if God made me that way.”
He slammed the door so hard when he left, Madolyn feared he had called the girls, but no one came. Until now. The brilliant light of midday streamed through her parlor windows. The clock on her bedside table showed it to be noon. Lucky would be bringing luncheon.
And she must get herself up out of her bed of pity and eat. She had work to do. Plenty of work. For now one thing was abundantly clear. She must take the next train back to Boston, regardless of what Morley did or did not do. But she couldn’t leave the women of this divided town in the lurch.
“It’s me, Maddie. Goldie. Lucky was busy in the kitchen and asked me to bring your tray.”
“Oh.” Jumping from the bed, Madolyn secured her robe, although she feared it would still reveal her nudity. “Coming.” She ran fingers through her damp, disheveled hair, then tucked strands behind her ears. But when she opened the door, it was to Goldie’s knowing gaze.
Ducking her head, Madolyn stepped aside. She pretended to be interested in the food Lucky sent. “You can set it over there. I’m half starved to death.”
Wordlessly Goldie deposited the luncheon tray on the tea table, but neither of them reached to remove the cup towel.
“May I sit down?” Without waiting for a reply, Goldie took one of the two chairs and studiously smoothed her brassy gold kimono over her knees. Her painted face was all innocence when she spoke. “We haven’t had a chance to visit in such a long time, what with the hours you’ve been keepin’.”
Madolyn sat across from Goldie without meeting the madam’s eye.
“Go ahead and eat, honey, don’t let me stop you. I’ve already had my dinner.”
Madolyn removed the cup towel, revealing two pieces of crisply fried chicken, a mound of mashed potatoes covered with gravy, and turnip greens. Her stomach tied in knots at the thought of taking a single bite.
“Ummm. You said you were starvin’. Good thing Lucky added an extra chicken leg.”
Madolyn spread her napkin on her lap, but the very touch of it brought a rush of tears. Images, in vivid color and poignant detail, assailed her. Annie ironed his shirts. For money. He hadn’t slept with her…hadn’t made love with her. Love!
Goldie, as was her nature, got straight to the point. “Where’d Tyler head off to in such a stew a while ago?”
Madolyn, taken off guard, glanced up. Goldie knew. Tyler told her! How could he have? “I wouldn’t know.”
“Oh, well…” Speaking, Goldie peered into the bedchamber beyond Madolyn. She felt herself flush.
What had he told her? Dear God, what had he told her?
“I think maybe I owe you an apology, Maddie. A bit late, I dare say, but…”
“Apology?”
“I should have kept my big mouth shut.” The madam shrugged, setting her mass of henna-tinted hair to flying. “I wouldn’t have hurt you for the world, honey, but you asked my advice and I’m one for handin’ it out. Can’t keep my blabbermouth shut when it comes to men and women.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Goldie. You have nothing to apologize for. Absolutely nothing.”
Goldie reached across the table, captured and squeezed Madolyn’s hand. “Oh, but I do, honey. I didn’t run into Tyler, and Lucky wasn’t too busy to bring your lunch. Truth is, he looked me up and asked me to see about you.”
“To see about me?” Indignation rose in billows. Indignation and embarrassment. As was often the case where Tyler was concerned, she didn’t know which to give into first. Anger, she knew, would serve her better.
Withdrawing her hand, she stiffened her spine. “As yo
u can see, I’m perfectly fine. I can’t imagine what Mr. Grant might have told you, but don’t believe a word of it.”
“Honey, you don’t have to put up such a strong front. Even if he hadn’t told me, I could’ve seen for myself. Why, didn’t I tell you weeks ago it was plain as the nose on your face?”
Madolyn covered her mouth with her napkin and wished she could bury her face in it. Or her head in the sand. Or disappear all together.
“Don’t go thinkin’ Tyler told things best kept between the two of you. He didn’t. I told you he was a gentleman, and I still believe it.”
“It’s like I suspected all along, this country is hard up for gentlemen.”
“I recognize the hurt, honey. That’s what I’m here to apologize for. My advice, well it would’ve been all right for some women, but others…well, there are women who can’t deny love.”
“Deny love? Who said anything about love? If Tyler said—”
“Hold on, Maddie. He didn’t. I’ll swear on it. In fact, I’m sure he would react about like you’re doin’ if I said this to him. Unless I miss my guess, this little relationship is a double-rutted trail.”
“This little relationship doesn’t exist, Goldie.”
The madam smiled, wanly. “You’re both fightin’ it, that’s for sure.”
Unable to resist, Madolyn let her curiosity get the best of her. “What did he say?”
“That I’d better come up and see about you. That you were as mad as an ol’ wet hen.”
“For once he was right about something.”
“Want to talk about it?”
“No.”
“That’s fine; just fine. But if you decide you want to, I’m here to listen. I can keep my mouth shut, an’ I’m through givin’ advice. I should never have taken it on myself, not in my profession, to talk to a girl about love.”
“Don’t feel bad, Goldie. You didn’t talk to me about love. You told me how to enjoy myself.” She wiped her mouth and grinned across the table. “And I did.” That said, tears brimmed again.
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