Appetites & Vices

by Felicia Grossman

  “Fancy seeing you here, Jay.”

  He froze.

  No.

  He should still be in Delaware. He wasn’t due in Philadelphia for a few more weeks. There was supposed to have been more time.

  Trapped with the silver laden table blocking his exit, Jay turned around to meet his fate.

  “Father, how good to see—”

  He could no longer speak. It wasn’t just J.T. Truitt, but both his older cousins, Samuel and Matthew, or, if one wanted their Christian names, Somber and Serious, in identical, pressed, wrinkle-free coats and pristine white ties. None of the three matched him in height, but each managed to tower above him in every other way. The universe must really loathe him. His skin already itched.

  At his side, Ursula cleared her throat. Three heads snapped towards her as she made a low curtsey.

  “Mr. Truitt, how good it is to see you again. And you must be Jay’s cousins.”

  “Yes, this is Samuel and Matthew Hale, my elder cousins. Gentlemen, this is Miss Ursula Nunes, my fiancée.” His voice only shook a little.

  Eyebrows rose and glances were exchanged between Dour and Disapproving.

  “How lovely to make your acquaintances.” She nodded to them again.

  The brothers turned back to him with simultaneous lip twitches.

  What was that about? The entire city heard he was engaged. It wasn’t a surprise and Ursula’s manners were flawless.

  “The pleasure is ours,” his father said. “I know we’re going to have a more formal meeting with your father, but I’m glad we all ran into each other at this event. Have you two been enjoying Philadelphia?”

  Silence fell. Good lord, was he supposed to speak? It was a miracle he could breathe around these three, let alone speak. He tugged at his collar. Didn’t these people open their windows?

  Out of the corner of his eye, Jay caught Ursula’s puzzled expression. He should have warned her. Too late.

  “It’s been quite pleasing,” she stammered. “This party’s delightful and we were at another last week. The music was lively. Jay’s such a skilled dancer and he’s wonderful with the pianoforte as well, his ear is so keen.”

  Six brows arched. Jay kept his eyes straight. He wouldn’t stare at his shoes, he wouldn’t. Everything burned, his eyes, his throat, his stomach, even his marrow.

  “What else have you two done in town?” Matthew, the bolder of his cousins, was the one to speak, arms folded, suspicion and judgment in his voice.

  The silence again, all expectations on him and his tongue nailed to the bottom of his mouth. What could he say that would be acceptable to the trio? Nothing, nothing at all. Ursula shot him a glare. “We’ve been with my family. Jay and my father have been discussing the Nunes businesses.” She twisted a little as she spoke, her skirts a dizzying swirl at his ankles, before giving him a bump with her hip.

  “Really?” Dour and Disapproving were now Dubious and Distrustful, in tone and countenance.

  Jay gritted his teeth. Why was that so hard for his cousins to believe?

  “Oh yes, my father has started taking him to meetings all over town.” Ursula nodded, her blonde curls bouncing along with her necklace and everything that lay below.

  Jay swallowed. He should clamp his hand over her mouth. She was a terrible liar and the three could get to Judah first and he, himself, certainly couldn’t invent such events on the spot.

  His palms sweated. Why did it matter? He’d disappear soon, give them what they all actually wanted. He could survive the disappointment and condescension for a few more minutes or hours or days. He’d done it his whole life.

  “Yes, Jay even reviewed the books for the British house and spotted two errors this month. You know Nunes has a small British holding? Except for my aunt and uncle, the rest of the family is in Europe, mostly Amsterdam, but there’s a side in London.”

  Ursula prattled on about finances and interest rates, fielding questions from each of the men and crediting activities—which he suspected she personally carried out—to him. She was skilled. Not with idle chatter, but when there was a purpose, a purpose she understood. She wasn’t as unteachable as she believed. Pride swelled in his chest but deflated as more thoughts poured into his over-whirled brain.

  He was a snake attempting to eat his own tail. Why did she have to do it for him? He shouldn’t need her to protect him from his own family.

  A boy hides his misdeeds from his father, a man can look his parent in the eye.

  Would he never be free of Sophie’s ghost? Jay ground his teeth over and over again.

  Oh, he itched, he itched everywhere. To be able to float again, in that moment he would’ve given his very soul to float.

  “It’s a shame we can’t speak with your father this evening.” Matthew’s eyes darted around the ballroom. “But we all must be going. Jay’s mother has a head cold.”

  Ursula nodded. “Give her our regards. We’ll have plenty of time to visit in the future. It was so lovely meeting you today.”

  She leaned closer and a sharp spike stabbed his foot. Why did she have to be wearing heels?

  “Yes,” he stammered. “How fortunate to run into you.”

  There was no inflection in his voice, but they wouldn’t notice. With nods, his male relations turned as the throng of people parted for the three tall forms.

  When the men disappeared, Ursula grabbed his hand and tugged in the opposite direction. Jay followed her towards the stairs. Where did she think she was going? If she were any other woman he would’ve been intrigued, but it was Ursula. No, it was most likely something painful not pleasurable was coming his way. Hopefully, she’d leave her heels on her feet. He was done being stabbed.

  Chapter Ten

  Jay’s head narrowly missed a lit sconce, as Ursula pinned him against a beige silk covered wall. The move was almost certainly intended to be intimidating, and she still managed to elicit some dread and anticipation from him, but those emotions blended with something almost like hope. Not to mention a healthy dose of desire. Very inappropriate for the moment. What was the matter with him?

  “What in the world was that?” she asked.

  “What do you mean?” Jay forced his face blank for the lie though his heart pounded.

  “You know exactly what I mean.” She’d moved her hand off his chest, planting both on her hips.

  Blotches formed over her tanned skin. Her eyes slit. “Why did you sound almost like, well, me back there? Not normal me, me when I’m focusing on behaving myself and not doing anything wrong.”

  Ursula slapped her hands on her thighs, emitting a grunt. Her curls bobbed.

  “No, you were worse. You acted almost—slow. I never seem slow.” She wagged a finger at him. “More importantly, why do your father and cousins actually think you’re slow or not quite right? Jay, what’s going on?”

  Her eyelids fluttered, revealing everything. The flashing anger was still strong, but something else had mixed in, a wetness. That would never do. That was the last thing he wanted.

  Jay glanced down. How did he put his life into words, words she’d understand, words that wouldn’t make her think less of him? The back of his throat scalded. He blinked and swallowed, but he couldn’t rid himself of the sensation.

  She sucked her lips inside her mouth so they disappeared. He’d better start talking. The truth was better than nothing, wasn’t it? Besides, this was Ursula, she’d always been an open book to him. A terrifying, dizzying, and at times delightful, read, but open. He owed her the truth—at least part of it, even if it damned him in her eyes.

  “I’m not sure they think I’m slow.”

  Jay turned the idea over in his head. Could they? He sighed.

  “Well, maybe a little bit slow, more addled. My mother may think I’m slow. She makes excuses for me. That’s why I’m here—at her request. My
father knows better. He knows I’m just weak and a failure.”

  “Why?” Deep lines appeared on Ursula’s brow. “I mean, despite your lack of effort in anything intellectual, or outwardly intellectual despite being given every advantage—”

  She screwed her mouth to the side. Her concentrating face. At least that meant she was attempting to think before she spoke.

  “I suppose there are the rumors regarding your behavior, but anyone who speaks with you for more than a minute or two can certainly tell that you aren’t a complete imbecile. In fact, actually, you’re quite clever, in your own sort of way.”

  Jay smiled despite the stinging self-loathing coating his stomach. So inartful, and yet charming. Very fixable. He, however...he swallowed.

  He yearned for some sort of contact, some sort of reassurance. He grabbed her hand and pulled her farther into the room, to a chaise by a window. Her skirts billowed and spread over his lap as they landed, still hand-in-hand.

  “I apologize. This isn’t something I speak of a great deal and I wanted to—”

  “Make sure no one else hears?” Ursula shrugged and leaned towards him, resting against his shoulder, almost as if she was being affectionate.

  Someone happening upon the couple would probably think they were truly in love or at least about to wap. If only. His lower body strained. Bloody Hell. He needed his head rescrewed.

  “Yes.” At least his brain still permitted him the correct response.

  “So, explain yourself and your activities and manners and everything,” she demanded.

  “It’s a long story.”

  “There’s no one here but us and I doubt anyone will come searching. I suspect they think we’re engaged in something much more scandalous, though that’s starting to make me uncomfortable, not for my reputation, which is a bit troublesome, but more that your family might believe I’m the one taking advantage of you.”

  Jay snorted. “Not my father. My father believes I’m more of a brute. As for everyone else, my reputation for scandal makes me more popular—makes people feel better about themselves. Why try to change that?”

  Pressure built behind his eyes. Mercy, saying it all aloud was so pathetic and humiliating.

  Jay crossed and uncrossed his legs. He craved pulling at his collar or running his fingers through his hair, but Ursula held his hand and he couldn’t bear to lose the connection.

  “I’m tired and cold and this seems like a long story and I want to be comfortable.” She reclined further into his body and wrapped his arms around her, answering the unasked question.

  He drew her closer, resting his hand in the perfect, soft place. Ursula snuggled deeper, flounces of silk blanketing his body. Jay smiled against her hair even as a lump welled in his throat. Why did nights with his family make him so out of sorts? The weight of her body against him—he closed his eyes. Her hair smelled of lavender again, like her gown, and perhaps roses and that same tart, dark fruit. Definitely cherries. Summer cherries. Much better than monkey.

  “So, tell me the story,” she said.

  He slid a hand around her hip, expecting a shove but receiving none. Her heart beat against his forearm, calm and steady. A pocket watch, counting down the minutes until—he sighed. He’d tell her. Not all of it, but enough. More than he’d told anymore in a long time.

  “Where do I begin?”

  * * *

  Her heart stuttered beneath her jade pendant, another piece of her mother’s jewelry. She’d worn it near the end and it still held her scent.

  “My cousins are perfect Truitts.” A wry smile played on Jay’s lips as the words vibrated into Ursula’s back. There was no playfulness behind it, like a scolded puppy forced to draw a cart.

  “What does that mean?” She pinched her brow, picturing the two men again.

  They were nice to look at and appeared intelligent, but neither possessed Jay’s shine. True, they were the ones who now held the Truitt medicinal distribution business—why J.T. Truitt was stupid enough to part with it two years ago, she’d never know—her father’d been obsessed with the transaction and the lack of gossip around it. Still, Jay’s cousins were mere “Hales,” Truitts by marriage. Unlike Jay and his father, none of their ancestors ratified the Constitution.

  Ursula sniffed to herself before chuckling. Fiddlesticks, society was rubbing off on her. Hugo’s father would probably approve. She gagged a little.

  “That means that they’re absolutely perfect in every way.” Jay’s voice held a foreign discomfiture. Gone was the lightness.

  “They excel at everything. They were top of their class, always had the best marks. They’re socially fluent in any scenario, not too much, not too little, always making the right impression. They’re handsome but not flashy, and pragmatic and never do a damned thing wrong.”

  He was serious. Dead serious. How could he not see what he actually looked like to other people, to her?

  “They sound and seem utterly boring. When we spoke I didn’t see one special note. I’m sure they’re very nice, but you’re certainly more handsome, much more handsome. They don’t hold a candle.” She was rambling now, but it was Jay and he’d seen her much less eloquent.

  “Anyone could attest to that and you’re probably much more interesting and well-travelled, and they may be studious and have gotten better marks than you and can probably read and write and add better, but there are things you can do that they can’t. They probably can’t play cards or dance as well, and they certainly aren’t amusing.”

  His lips twitched at the last point. Thank goodness, as she was running out of breath. The sadness in his eye, the lack of twinkle—that tore at her. How could she get that back? If only she truly possessed his skill.

  What would he suggest? She closed her eyes. What did he want—that would be what Jay would tell her to find and give him. She studied him again. Why couldn’t she help?

  “If only my parents saw it that way.” Jay waved a hand, dismissing her and his own worth.

  Ursula swallowed again, the glumness in his voice amplifying.

  “They’re older. I grew up with them. They were what my father wanted, and he never let me forget it. I was always a disappointment. I never made decent marks and never stayed out of trouble. And you’re right, I squandered opportunities or more opportunities were wasted on me. The only thing I’ve ever been good at is amusing people and that’s not something worthwhile.”

  No. How could he possibly believe that?

  “I enjoy it.” The words, the truth really, sprang from her lips. “You make things like this—” She gestured to the door. “You make them bearable and even fun. And you astound me at how keen you are with people. No one can compete with you when it comes to parties or social settings. You can defuse any situation, with kindness so no one’s hurt. That’s admirable, Jay, very admirable.”

  He stared at her, frozen. His chest didn’t move. Had she said something wrong? She was a fool. She should cut out her tongue and become a mute.

  Jay clasped her hand and brought it to his lips. Tingles ran from her heart to her stomach to her—like water flowing on rocks. Ursula closed her eyes. How did he do that to her? Moreover, it was wrong, she was supposed to be comforting him.

  “Thank you for that, Ursula. Believe it or not, you make these occasions more bearable for me as well, certainly much more exciting.”

  He sighed. “I’ve made mistakes, many mistakes, ones from which I can’t recover, but when you say things like that or actually listen to me you make me feel—”

  Jay kissed her hand again, his eyes closed. She leaned into him, their foreheads touching, improper but so natural, just to be, just to sit together, as almost friends. They held for a moment before breaking apart.

  “We should rejoin the party, shouldn’t we? Make sure Hugo and his parents see us.” The pressure wound through her features, setting
just behind her eyes. The words were appropriate, but she meant none of them. If she could just sit on the chaise forever, impossible as that was.

  “Probably.” Jay pulled her to her feet. Upright, they were so near their torsos almost touched once more. He paused. “But, before we leave, do you still want me to kiss you?”

  Every hair on her body stood at attention. Tight yearning spread through her core even as her throat closed. Her “yes,” was hoarse, but audible because she’d make him hear. She had to.

  His swallow was visible; however, he reached a hand behind her back and down, lower and lower, so it rested around her waist. He drew her to him and the heat, the flush radiated all the way through her body.

  Jay ran soft fingers down the side of her cheek and cupped her chin, tilting it so she could not help but meet his eyes and she was lost, mesmerized in the kaleidoscope of colors beneath the thick, dark lashes. She might have floated, stopped breathing, done a million unbelievable tasks, but nothing registered. All her focus was on him and only him. His mouth met hers and she no longer knew reason. The world exploded like fireworks, like gunpowder. Her lips parted, yielding for him as his hand moved from her chin to behind her head.

  In turn, she wound hers around his neck. She could not get him close enough to her. She drank him in, champagne and wood and cloves and cherry, deep, dark cherries, everything that made Jay, Jay. The room spun, and her bones melted in his arms. She wanted a million things she had no idea she wanted before nor even quite knew what they precisely were.

  Too soon he broke away, but with a smile, a real, full smile. He nuzzled her neck before nudging her upon her own feet. He straightened her sleeves.

  “You don’t need a damned lesson, Urs, and don’t let anyone ever tell you otherwise.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Music and light surged through Jay’s limbs. He was a liar, but if Urs could accept the partial truth he told her, maybe he could transform it into whole truth. Maybe he could believe away the cravings and the mistakes and start new. No past, only present.