She did as he asked. The shift was discarded, and Dmitri kissed her again, tiny, gentle nibbles on her lips, which brought a nervous giggle from her. He rolled over onto his side, placed one leg across her hips and cradled her head on his arm. With a sigh, Camille snuggled against his hard body.
A physical relationship was his right as her husband. Having always been told a wife must submit to her husband's wishes, Camille found submission to be far easier than she had thought. What he was doing to her body felt strange, but not unwelcome. His presence drove the fear from the night, and she was not alone.
The softness of her breast excited him. Dmitri forced himself to proceed slowly. He kneaded the pliant flesh until he felt her nipple harden. Camille's breath tickled his cheek, as she lay compliantly against him.
"You are such a sweet child." His lips whispered against the thick mass of dark hair.
"Dmitri? Will it hurt?"
Camille's whispered question caused him to smile. Perhaps some things were best not recalled. "No, I won't hurt you." Dmitri began to stroke her thighs. Camille was motionless in his arms.
"Just let yourself relax." As he kissed her, his fingers continued their journey.
She was starting to return his kisses when his fingers reached the place even Camille was reluctant to touch. She stiffened in his hold.
"Let yourself feel. You will shortly understand why this is forbidden, even to you. Society does not wish you to know of your own desires. There is no harm in it, not now."
His words seemed to drip into her mouth like honey from a spoon. She recalled the dream. Would it shock him to know this was what she was craving? But, in the dream, it was Frank who touched her, as Dmitri was doing now.
This man had touched other women, as he was now stroking and kissing her. In particular, certainly Dmitri had touched, kissed his first wife in the same manner. Dmitri's daughter was ten years old, and he had not remarried. Camille wondered why.
He said he understood. Perhaps he did. Camille pushed her fingers into his hair. She felt his tongue enter her mouth. Far better than the dream, Dmitri was real. Camille wanted the incredible feelings he evoked in her to continue. Her hands left his head and caressed his shoulders.
Dmitri felt his control slip, as she returned the kiss. Lightly, her fingertips brushed across his upper arms. With a slight twist of her body, Camille rubbed her nipples against his chest.
He rolled slightly away from her and pushed her down on her back. Dmitri knelt astraddle of her. Running his fingers through her hair, he slowly drew his hands downward, dragging his fingertips across her face, breasts and the flat expanse of her stomach.
Her muscles contracted, and she shuddered. Dmitri bent his head to brush his lips across the trails his fingers had left on her skin. When he leaned forward to kiss her throat, Camille's husky voice broke the silence.
"What is this?" She reached out and ran one finger delicately across him. In response, his penis gave an upward jerk before falling heavily back against her belly. Camille giggled.
"It is what everyone has been trying to keep you away from all your life. This is the dreaded male member."
Dmitri pushed both her hands into contact with him. "You have no idea how good your touch feels."
She surprised him by laughing again. "I think you are probably an appalingly bad man. Tell me, why is that?"
"Because I have seen a great deal of the world. Not every nation in the world thinks sex is bad for you. It certainly is not so in France. Did your family ever visit France? See relatives there? If so, surely there must have been some boy cousins eager to show you some naughty and sinful things."
Camille moved her hands. Her fingers were touching him in various places, exploring. "All our money was gone by the time I was old enough to travel. Mamma had a servant, an old houseman. He once took us to the river to catch fish. Mamma and Leontine went to sleep. He played games with me. Then the old man held me on his lap. He lifted my skirt above my head to play peek-a-boo. He touched me a little...and it felt good."
Hesitantly, Camille continued. "Afterward, I was afraid of what he had done. As I must not touch myself, it certainly must have been a bad thing for him to do. I was frightened. I never let him catch me alone again."
Dmitri was shocked into silence but continued to caress her. What other things had happened to this child? In truth, he found he was afraid to ask.
Camille's fingers ceased their exploratory ventures. She became very still. "I should not have told you," Camille whispered.
"Yes, I am glad you did. I am not horrified. I was thinking of what life must have been like for you in New Orleans. I had not realized before that the Confederate States were a conquered country. Life must have been very hard."
"I do not wish to talk about it now. Continue to do what you were doing, it felt good. Right now I want to feel good. Continue. Will this help you?"
She took him in her hand and began to tug at the warm flesh. Dmitri found himself the seduced, instead of the seducer. He gave Camille what she asked of him.
Finally, he held her close and cuddled her against him. Dmitri decided he could not allow her to live on her own, alone, in San Francisco. She was not like the other women he had used over the years. There was no guile in her. The girl had wanted him and had shown him how much. Perhaps they could rise above the circumstances of their marriage.
"You are very silent. Are men always quiet afterward?" She inquired in a whisper.
"I have no idea what other men are like," Dmitri replied. "I can only tell you about me. I think this is the hardest part of a marriage to work out. You have surprised me with your candor. I just want to hold you for the moment. I want us to be close while other things, those things that can cause tension between people, are not present."
"Other things...your child, my uncle, perhaps?"
"Perhaps. Promise me Camille, to keep an open mind about the things you find on the island. It would be a shame if we were not able to make our marriage work. I do want it to work. Let us try to sleep now. I find I am very tired."
Camille did not ask any more questions. Soon, she heard his breathing slow. She knew when he was asleep. She was terrified at the possibility of having done or said the wrong things.
His last statement brought the enormity of her position home to her. She would be alone on the island with strangers. If they were unable to get along, there would be nowhere she could go. No one to turn to. Camille was awake for a long time.
She awoke to the aroma of fresh coffee. Cautiously, she opened her eyes, then glanced around the room. Dmitri was again working. Fully dressed, he was sipping a cup of coffee, as he wrote. Camille wondered if he were waiting for her to awake.
Not quite ready to face him, she closed her eyes as she considered the agreeable facets of her present situation. No longer would people look at her as they murmured pitying, trite little phrases to each other. She now knew the secret married women were always careful to keep from the innocent girls.
She also had a strong man to take care of her. Dmitri was a strong man. With a smile, she recalled how strong. Camille sincerely hoped she had not been too forward with him. She remembered the feel of his body against hers, and as she did, her smile broadened.
Dmitri had been watching her in the mirror. He knew she was awake. The rapport they found last night, needed to be nurtured.
Dmitri began to tidy away his papers, as she would have need of the dressing table. Camille was a bit of a puzzle, solving it would be interesting. Last night Camille had surprised him beyond measure. He fixed a cup of coffee for her, then went to sit on the edge of the bed.
"Good morning." He kissed her lips and watched in satisfaction, as the color rose in her cheeks. Now she was the image of innocence again. She pulled the pillows up behind her, before pushing up into a sitting position. Dmitri handed her the cup and saucer.
"Good morning, Dmitri."
"Did you sleep well?"
"Eventually," Camille
replied. Her eyes sparkled, and her complexion was losing its sallow look.
"What would you like for breakfast?" He rose and looked out the porthole. "It is a lovely day. When you are dressed, we could go on deck if you like. We might even see dolphins or whales. So, what would you like to eat?"
Camille smiled. As she sipped her coffee, she considered his question. He was pleasant today. More than merely pleasant, he was eager to please her. Leontine was right about many things, concerning men.
It was a pity she had not paid more attention. Apparently, pleasure at night for a man eased the day light hours for a woman. It appeared mankind had various appetites. It was one area of education the nuns left to parents. Camille was sorry she was given so little guidance on the subject. "Is there a roll?"
Dmitri was quick to produce one. While she ate, he paced excitedly from the porthole to the dressing table and back again. After finishing her roll, she slipped from the bed.
Hastily pulling her robe around her, Camille went to the wardrobe. Hopefully, Dmitri was too preoccupied to notice her. Camille was still shy when it came to daylight and dressing before him. What had taken place between them the previous night seemed dreamlike in the light of day.
Slipping into fresh undergarments, Camille took out her corset. She laced it as best she could. Getting the corset laced properly was difficult on one's own. Camille knew it could be pulled a bit tighter, but she did not feel comfortable asking Dmitri to help her. As she reached for a new chemise, Dmitri reached out to place an arm around her waist.
Dmitri placed a kiss on the top of her head, then stepped back to watch, as she pulled on the chemise. Camille drew a light blue sprigged muslin dress over her undergarments.
"Do you have a warm coat?" Camille took a dark tweed coat, with matching muff and Tam from the wardrobe.
He appeared thoughtful, as she handed it to him. Dmitri placed the articles on the bed. Camille sat at the dressing table to brush her hair.
"Your uncle Samuel does not seem to have been very generous with his clothing allowance," Dmitri commented as he watched her in the mirror.
"I have not starved. Nor have I been cold." She pinned her dark hair into a bun. "It was kind of him to assume responsibility for me. If he had not, I would have been alone in New Orleans."
She rose gracefully from the chair, then walked toward him. In spite of the severe bun she wore, Camille looked like a schoolgirl in the print dress.
Recalling how the young woman before him had behaved in bed during the night, Dmitri wondered at the change in her. There was no hint of the woman who had explored his body, the Camille, who wanted to feel good.
A demure, slightly shy Camille had taken the other woman's place. Dmitri would have liked to see her thick, dark hair in a less formal style. Her eyebrows were dark wings above the large, heavily lashed hazel eyes. Sulky, full lips struck him as out of place on this young woman. Camille's head barely came to his shoulder.
Helping her into the coat, Dmitri took her arm in his. Together, they went on deck.
Near the bow of the Laurie, they watched the blue-gray ocean slide past. Hatless, the Count was enjoying the cool sea breeze. For a while, they watched three porpoises playing tag with each other, as they easily kept ahead of the ship.
He pointed out various landmarks as they steamed on. Camille watched the shoreline and noted how little she saw of human occupation. It was truly a wild place.
Camille was starved, when they finally went into the salon for lunch. Seeking to make a connection with her husband, she related some of the more humorous incidents of her childhood in New Orleans to Dmitri as they waited for their meal to arrive.
As they dined, she caught Miss O'Hare watching them carefully. Dmitri appeared oblivious to the other woman's attention. It disturbed Camille, to have another woman watching him with such obvious admiration.
Jealous? She asked herself. How can you be jealous of a man you hardly know? All the same, it is true. She admitted to herself. Deciding she was being very silly, Camille tried to ignore Miss O'Hare for the remainder of the meal.
They had a pleasant day, and she found herself quite tired when dinnertime came. They dined in the salon with the other passengers. After dinner, Camille went to the cabin, while Dmitri remained behind to talk business with some of the other men. He seemed particularly interested in Mr. Wilkins and the discussion of mining methods, the mining engineer launched into.
Camille brushed out her hair. As soon as the chore was attended to, she put on a nightgown and snuggled into bed. Unable to settle, Camille felt vaguely uncomfortable. It was almost as if she might be coming down with a cold. Camille's body ached. Finding a comfortable place in the bed was difficult. It occurred to her; laudanum could ease her discomfort. The realization caused her to rise from the bed. Camille began to pace the floor.
Oh yes, it was most definitely time to put a stop to taking the drug. The nuns had cautioned all their charges of the dangers of laudanum. The good sisters not only saw to the education of young girls such as her, but they also cared for the soiled doves, which came to them for help and comfort.
The sisters clearly stated the dangers of the drug. She had, unfortunately, buried the knowledge, content to ease her pain in any way possible.
Camille walked the floor of the cabin for some time until she felt she might be able to sleep. She had no idea when Dmitri finally came to bed. Perhaps the night was fading, she was too exhausted to be sure. On sliding beneath the blanket, he threw an arm over her, and Camille went back to sleep.
Dmitri listened to Wilkins talk of mining gold for an hour. By then, he heard all he wished to. There were places in the interior of Alaska Dmitri felt sure Wilkins would sell his soul for knowledge of. When the time was right, he would see to it that any development, which took place, would be under the management of his company.
Dmitri became disgusted with talk of gold. They were all small men trying to convince themselves they were going to be rich within the year. A circumstance that was hardly likely to materialize.
Greedy fools! He thought. Alaska would try them all. Only the strongest would remain alive. Of those, perhaps one or two would make their fortune if any. Dmitri excused himself.
After leaving the salon, he leaned against the rail. Shielding it from the breeze of the Laurie's passage, he lit a cigar. A slight noise alerted him. Dmitri spun around. Feminine laughter drifted from the shadows.
"My, but you have gotten yourself into a fine pickle."
"Shall I blame it on you? Had you not left a light on, I might have spent the night with you."
Vanessa moved out of the shadow she had concealed herself in. "You are still welcome, Dmitri. That is if you care to join me."
There were other comments she would have liked to add but did not dare.
Without glancing back, he flipped the cigar over the rail. Vanessa's smile faded, as he slowly walked toward her. In a shaft of light from the salon, his smile looked almost evil. His good eye gleamed, as Dmitri grabbed her by the upper arms to kiss her.
Vanessa would have leaned against him for support, but his firm hold on her arms kept her from moving. When he released her, Vanessa was trembling.
"Come!" Vanessa took his hand. She tugged him along behind her. This time, she would not let him go until..." Until dawn!" She muttered fiercely.
Pulling him through the cabin door, Vanessa shut it firmly behind them. Without a word, he pulled her into his arms. Vanessa clasped her arms around Dmitri's neck. She eagerly returned his kisses. This time, he was hers.
When Dmitri was about to leave in the early morning, Vanessa caught his hand. "You are always welcome, wherever I am. Come to Juneau and see."
With a laugh, Dmitri kissed her fingers, before slipping quietly from Vanessa's cabin. On preparing to enter his bed, Camille awoke for a moment when he lay down beside her. Cuddling against Dmitri, she was soon asleep again.
Dmitri asked himself why he had gone with Vanessa. It retros
pect, it seemed a foolish thing to do, given the present circumstance. Perhaps that was the reason; he was under entirely too much pressure. Whatever the reason, he felt less like an old man. The redhead had been happy enough with his lovemaking.
In the morning, Camille did not ask him any questions concerning his late return. Dmitri was thankful she did not attach any importance to his absence. He certainly did not wish to tell her any more lies, the ones he had told were sufficient.
Explaining his actions to Camille was not something Dmitri intended to do. Having been independent far too long, he was in the habit of doing as he wished. Dmitri did mean to treat her with the dignity a wife deserved, but he and Vanessa had been discrete. It was doubtful any harm would come of one night spent with the woman.
Soon they would be home, and the prospect of once again being on his island lightened the stress of the last few days. Together, he and Camille spent the day relaxing, as they watched the scenery from on deck. He pointed out places of interest.
When the Laurie entered Revillagigedo Channel, he explained with good luck, they would be home several hours before dinner. He was excited and happy, to finally be on the last day of the journey. The broad smile never left his face. Dmitri put an arm around Camille, pulling her close, as they watched the thick forest on either side of the ship from the Laurie's bow.
When lunchtime arrived, Camille found herself dining alone as Dmitri remained on deck. Camille noticed Miss O'Hare ate hurriedly, then left the salon. She immediately found herself thinking the woman's behavior was a bit odd. Camille dismissed the notion as fanciful on her part.
Vanessa found Dmitri on deck as she hoped. Leaning against the rail, he was enjoying the scenery.
"So, you are hungry only for home?" She stood beside him.
Without turning, he replied. "It has been two months since I have been home. Home means a great deal to me. What does it mean to you?"
"Very little. The Irish area of New York, potatoes at every meal and no money at all."
Dmitri turned his head and his glance traveled from Vanessa's red hair to her toes, slowly. He smiled at her. "Your earlier experiences do not appear to have damaged you."
Behind the Raven Mask Page 6