Forbidden Love (6 page)

Bewildered by William's words, but especially by his strange behavior at this special time, Lisa turned onto her back. Why had he drunk so much on their wedding night, an event he surely must have anticipated as much as she? Didn't he want to take her as his wife? How little she knew about these intimate matters.

After a long period of painful reflection, she tried to smile, her natural optimism coming to her defense. This was only the first night of their marriage, for heaven's sake, only the beginning. Finding a dubious comfort in that premise, she glanced at her bedside clock, surprised to see how late it was. She pulled the afghan closer to her chin, inhaling the lavender-scented sheets, thankful for the hot water bottle her maid had left in the bed.

As she made a mental note of all the familiar objects, she reassured herself that everything would look better in the morning . . . more promising. She stretched across the
bed,
her nightgown pulled taut, and turned the valve of the bronze gas lamp to extinguish the light. Staring up at the ceiling, she vowed she wouldn't be discouraged. Surely by tomorrow William would
be loving
and affectionate again, and of course they had many more nights to share.
For the rest of their lives.

Chapter Four

 
Within the elegant comfort of Elizabeth Hunter's parlor, Lisa made small talk while she struggled to find the best way to relate her marital problems. Despite her earlier optimism, too many troubles had plagued her since her wedding night a few weeks ago.
Elizabeth
, several years older than she and with a tall, willowy figure, ivory skin and jet black hair, looked much like an aristocrat, or maybe an actress, Lisa mused with kindly speculation. However,
Elizabeth
was most down-to-earth, a warm, considerate person, one Lisa was happy to call her best friend.

 
Lisa took a deep breath. "
Elizabeth
, do you mind if I ask you a personal question?"

Elizabeth
glanced her way before pouring the steaming hot tea into dainty Sevres cups. "I remember you like a little cream and sugar," she said, handing her the cup. She joined Lisa on the sofa, her hands in her lap,
a
thoughtful expression on her face. "Since we've been friends for so long, let's hear your question."

"Does
Lawrence
show you much affection?" Lisa asked as she raised the cup to her mouth. Unconsciously, she held the cup poised by her lips, waiting for her friend's answer.

Elizabeth
shot her a startled look
..
"Why in heaven's name do you ask?"

"Please just answer, then I'll explain." She set her cup on the parlor table to cool, unable to say anymore as she fiddled with the gold clasp of her alligator handbag. Why had she introduced this painful subject?
Too late to back out now.

"Of course he's affectionate,"
Elizabeth
said, lifting her hands. "We love each other very much. That's why we married." She frowned. "Something tells me you didn't visit just to ask about my husband's devotion, so say what you mean, Lisa."

"Well . . ." Lisa turned her head, her gaze drifting to the William Morris wallpaper, counting the rows of flowers and vines. "Give me time to gather my thoughts," she murmured.

The silence lengthened as
Elizabeth
sipped her tea. "Since we're being frank, let me ask you something." She paused. "Doesn't William show you any tenderness?"

Slowly, Lisa shook her head. She looked out the window, seeing the branches of the linden trees heavy with newly-fallen snow. Sighing, she faced her friend. "No love or tenderness at all.” Turning away, she bit her lip.

The logs in the fireplace hissed and sputtered, radiating a warm glow, yet she felt nothing but cold in her heart.

"You mean,"
Elizabeth
asked, "he just takes you in bed without kissing or cuddling you first?"

"No, he doesn't," she blurted. "He . . . he doesn't do anything." She spoke on a rush of words. "William doesn't seem interested in me at all, only as his hostess and the woman who manages his household. We don't even go to plays or concerts, only to parties and dinners, to meet the people who matter, as William says." She tried to keep the sarcasm from her voice.

 
"And oh!
I don't understand these things. My husband has never done anything to me--whatever a man and woman do together in bed. But
Elizabeth
, I've seen him look at me when he thinks I don't notice. I see the expression in his eyes, as if he wants to kiss me." Her heart thudded against her tight corset like a trapped bird trying to escape its cage. "So why doesn't he? How I've wanted him to kiss me, to show me he cares."

A stillness
captured the room.
Elizabeth
gave her a warm smile, her face showing concern. "Tell me something. Do you love William?"

Her head lowered, Lisa smoothed her black alpaca skirt. "I thought I could learn to love him in time. I know I can learn to love him, but there must be more between us than casual talk and social activities. I want to have a good marriage--a happy one, and children. I'll do anything to have a satisfying marriage, but I think William should show me affection."

"I agree."
Elizabeth
sighed. "Well, I--"

 
"Suppose he has a mistress," Lisa said. Some men had mistresses. Even she knew that, although she wasn't sure what
function
the other woman served. "He'd better not! I won't stand for it."

"Unfortunately, there is that possibility,"
Elizabeth
said in cautious tones. "Listen, why don't I tell
Lawrence
about your marriage and--"

Lisa sat up straight. "No! Don't tell your husband!"

"Very well, I won't,"
Elizabeth
said, waving her hand dismissively. "I thought perhaps he might have some ideas, a man's viewpoint, you know. I promise not to say anything if you don't want me to, but something must be done about your marriage. You can't go on like this."

"You think I don't know that! Can you imagine what it's like to have no devotion from my own husband, not even to know what happens between a man and a woman in bed?" She reached for her cup to drink the remainder of her lukewarm tea.

 
Elizabeth
sat back
..
"You honestly don't know what happens in the marriage bed?"

 
"No," she whispered, ashamed to admit her ignorance--she, who'd been married for several weeks. Her cheeks warmed.

Elizabeth
leaned forward, speaking in a low voice. "You know a man is made differently than a woman, don't you?"

"Yes, of course." Lisa clenched her hands in her lap. She shifted her position on the sofa, her corset squeezing her like a vise.

"Well, then . . ."
Elizabeth
whispered all the intimate details in her ear while Lisa listened in shocked amazement, her face burning.

"Lawrence and I take precautions to prevent pregnancy,"
Elizabeth
went on. "We're rather broad-minded, you see."

"Broad-minded?"

Elizabeth
smiled. "I mean we don't feel bound by the normal constraints of society. We both think it's wonderful to have an intimate relationship for the sake of expressing our love. You don't have to experience the physical aspect of marriage solely for the purpose of having children. We may not have any children at all, not if we don't want any."

"Really?"
Lisa shook her head, each revelation adding to her confusion.

Elizabeth
made an airy gesture. "We don't do anything outrageous, you understand, and we do believe in marital fidelity. By the way, not all married couples are stiff and strait-laced. You'd be surprised how many others think as we do."

Lisa's gaze swept the room,
then
settled on the fireplace, her eyes riveted on its mesmerizing flames. She turned back to her friend. "You said something about precautions."

"It's called a
pessary
,"
Elizabeth
said. "Sometimes you can get it at a doctor's office and sometimes at an apothecary. Either way, you're made to feel like a criminal. But I don't care." She shrugged. "Lawrence and I have found happiness and peace of mind."

"I wish
I could find happiness and peace of mind," Lisa blurted.

Elizabeth
embraced her. "Oh, you will, dear friend, if you only try. I just know it!"

Lisa gathered her things together. "I am trying,
believe
me. I don't intend to give up."

* * *

With a secret little smile, Lisa slipped into a nightgown of the finest pink lawn, admiring its exquisite embroidery on the cuffs and neckline. Much too sheer for such a cold night, this gown was definitely what she needed for her plan to succeed. She'd lure William into bed!

This time, she'd meet him more than halfway, so there would be no doubt that she wanted him. Maybe that was the matter on our wedding night, she mused as she buttoned her long sleeves. Her husband needed encouragement, needed to know how warm and loving she could be. With a luxuriant sigh, she ran her fingers sensuously through long strands of hair, wishing William were here to touch every part of her body.

Seduce her husband. What a scheme! What did she have to lose? With a deep breath, she straightened her shoulders, then marched to the door and opened it.

The dimly-lit hallway seemed to stretch for miles, and with each step, her courage almost deserted her. She'd often wondered why William's bedroom was so far from hers, and now the painful answer struck her like a blow to the stomach--he wanted complete isolation from her. But she'd change his
attitude,
show him she could be a caring wife. Their love would develop and grow, if only he'd give their marriage a chance.

His door stood partway open, and as she eased it back farther, she saw William smoking a cigar by the fireplace mantel, his back to her.

"William," she murmured. She inhaled the aroma of cigar smoke, and found she liked its unique fragrance. He'd never smoked a cigar around her before. From now on, she'd always associate this aroma with her husband and this moment.

"William?" she repeated, stepping into the room.

He spun around, then set his cigar in the ashtray and hurried to her. Alarm flashed across his face.

"Lisa, are you all right? You're not ill, are you?" He gave her a worried glance. "You're going to become ill if you don't dress more warmly. Good gracious! That looks like a summer nightgown, not suitable attire for the middle of winter. And not even a bathrobe." He raised his eyebrows. "Did you want to talk about something?"

"Well . . . I . . . no . . ." Licking her bottom lip, she threw a sensual glance at his bed and saw the covers thrown aside, as if he'd been ready to settle for the night. What if she were in bed with him? Her fantasies soared, her heart thudding against her chest. He'd kiss her, touch her passionately, and yes, do that other thing that
Elizabeth
had revealed.

 
"Won't you tell me what's troubling you?" he asked with a bewildered expression. "Here," he said, leading her to a chair by the fireplace, "sit down and get warm,
then
we'll chat for a few minutes if you want to."

Settled in the chair, her hands folded in her lap, she felt like a foolish schoolgirl, called on to recite. Had she made this trip for nothing? She wanted only to lie in bed with him, kissing, cuddling, and yes, indulging in the final intimacy.

William sat on the edge of the bed, his blue eyes steady as they lingered on her breasts. Did she see passion in his eyes? Surely she did. He opened his mouth to say something,
then
he closed his mouth and shifted his position, leaving her to wonder what went through his mind.