Never Look Back (94 page)

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Authors: Lesley Pearse

Tags: #Fiction, #Historical

BOOK: Never Look Back
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‘I love you so much,’ he said, once he’d put her down, and she clung to him, dizzy and panting. ‘If we don’t get a chance to be together again for a long time, I shall carry the memory of what you looked like today in my heart,’

‘How do I look?’ she asked breathlessly.

‘Tousled,’ he said, tucking the strands of hair that had come loose under her bonnet. ‘Your eyes are bright and beautiful like the sky, your cheeks like two ripe peaches, and you have sand all over your dress. I think I’m seeing how you were when you sold flowers.’

‘I didn’t wear fancy clothes like this then.’ She laughed, looking down at her fine wool dress and matching cloak trimmed with velvet. ‘I had only one ragged dress, a shawl and a mob-cap.’

‘Tell me what you used to shout out to sell your flowers,’ he asked, taking her hand and walking back up the deserted beach.

Matilda giggled and cleared her throat. ‘Lov-erly fresh violets, only a tanner a bunch,’ she yelled at the top of her lungs in her best Cockney accent. ‘Come on, sir, treat the little lady and put a smile on’er face.’

‘I’ll take the whole basket,’ James said.

‘Gor blimey, guv, that’s mighty generous of you. That’s six bob to you.’

James pulled some notes from his pocket. ‘I’ve only got dollars it seems,’ he said.

‘Fair enough, guv,’ she said, snatching them. ‘Shame I ain’t got no change to give you.’ With that she ran off laughing to their cabin.

On their last afternoon it was still bright, but a little chilly. James made a big fire indoors and one out on the sand, and they sat out on the porch watching the sun go down, listening to the waves breaking on the shore. As the sun slowly dipped into the sea, the flames of the campfire brought back poignant memories of the wagon train for both of them. They clasped hands and stared into the flames, both only too well aware that the time they had left together was fast running out.

Matilda had learned never to ask questions about Evelyn, for all answers hurt, however carefully James worded them. She tried only to remember that she held his heart. Tonight she didn’t envy Evelyn one bit, she might live in a grand house, and bear the title of Mrs Russell, but as a married woman, afternoon tea with other ladies in the same circumstances was all the gaiety she could expect. Parties or balls were out of the question without her husband to escort her, and she could never take up any kind of work, other than something for a charity. Her life had to be so very dreary.

‘I have put forward Peter’s name for West Point,’ James said suddenly. ‘Should anything happen to me, I mean before he’s old enough to go, as his guardian you must contact them yourself and of course remind them of me. I said his parents were old friends of mine.’

It was the ‘should anything happen to me’ which sent shivers down her spine. Each time James went away she always tried to imagine him training raw recruits, or just sitting up on his horse, leading his company across endless empty plains. But the Indians were rising up against the white man now, hardly a week went past without a new story of massacres, scalpings and hostages taken, somewhere in the Mid-West or down in Texas and Arizona. She knew too that the trouble in Kansas could grow into something very serious. The ‘Free Soilers’, as the people who had settled there on free land were known, were all totally opposed to slavery, but neighbouring Missouri was still a slave-owning state and its people wanted the freedom to take their slaves
anywhere in the West, and they were prepared to do anything to uphold what they considered their right.

‘Not that I’m anticipating an untimely death.’ James laughed softly. ‘But it’s best to discuss all eventualities, just in case.’

‘In that case, if something happens to me, will you make sure Peter does get to West Point?’ she said, keeping her tone light.

‘Of course I will,’ he said, squeezing her hand. ‘And I’ll keep in touch with Tabitha, no one will be prouder than me when I see MD after her name.’

‘I wonder if she really will make it,’ Matilda said. ‘Henry Slocum said the other day that there’s only about a dozen fully qualified lady doctors in the country. He was telling me about an English lady called Elizabeth Blackwell who was the first lady to get a medical degree here, back in 1851. She went back to England and applied for a job in a hospital. She signed her name E. Blackwell MD, and they took her on, thinking she was a man. But they pushed her out pretty quickly when they found out, so she came back here to work.’

‘But things are improving all the time,’ James said. ‘Today a dozen lady doctors, tomorrow hundreds of them. You can get a divorce easily in California, right now. Soon it will be just as common in Virginia, and I’ll be one of them.’

She turned sideways to look at James. It wasn’t the first time he’d spoken of divorce, but it was the first time he’d stated he intended to do it. His eyes met hers, grave and unwavering, and she knew he meant it. ‘Whatever the cost?’ she asked.

‘Whatever,’ he replied. ‘And will you promise to marry me the minute I’m free, whatever the cost to you?’

‘Yes, I promise,’ she said, nodding.

‘Then you must do something now to prove it,’ he said, with laughter in his voice.

‘Whatever you say’

He looked at her appraisingly for a moment, his blue eyes twinkling and one side of his mouth twisted up a little, the way it always did when he had mischief on his mind.

‘You must come and have a dip in the sea with me.’

‘But it will be icy!’ she exclaimed in horror. Now the sun had vanished it was cold, only the bonfire and the shelter of the porch were allowing them to stay outside.

‘If you don’t, I can’t take your promises seriously.’

Without a second thought Matilda began unbuttoning her dress; off it came, then her petticoats, stays and stockings, right down to her chemise. James began to undress too, casting his jacket, shirt and pants back into the house until he was left with his long underpants.

‘Those too,’ Matilda said, pointing at them.

‘Then you must take off your chemise,’ he grinned. He waited until she was stark naked, then tossed one of her red garters back at her. ‘Just wear that,’ he said. ‘Then I’ll keep it in my pocket till the day we marry.’

She laughed, even though the wind was already chilling her, and pulled it up her leg on to her thigh.

‘Ready?’ he said, then took her hand and they ran down the beach and straight into the water.

It was so cold it took her breath away. But when he dived in she had to follow, and as she inched forward it was like a slow torture feeling the cold creep up her warm skin.

‘Right down till only your head is out the water,’ he shouted at her. ‘If you don’t, I’ll push you under.’

There was nothing for it but to do it. She bent her knees, bobbed down just long enough for him to see her, then rushed out of the water.

He ran after her as she raced back up the beach, picked her up in his arms and hugged her. ‘You are the bravest woman I ever met,’ he said, covering her face with salty kisses.

Carrying her squirming in his arms, he took her into the house, kicked the door shut and grabbed a blanket from the bed to wrap round them both. He made her laugh as he forced her to shuffle around the room with him as he collected pillows, cushions and more blankets to place in front of the fire.

‘Do you know what I’m going to do to you now, Mrs Jennings?’ he asked, rubbing his wet hair against her face.

‘I suspect, sir, that you are intending to have your evil way with me,’ she said in a high indignant squeak.

‘How right you are, my dear,’ he said, lifting her up and then lowering her down on to the blankets. ‘There’s no point in calling out for help, there’s no one around for miles.’

‘Then I guess I’ll just have to submit,’ she said, screwing up her eyes. ‘Just do it quickly, that’s all I ask.’

He began by kissing her right foot, right up her leg until he
reached the garter, then he caught hold of it with his teeth and pulled it down her leg. It had left drops of sea water on her skin, and slowly he went up it again, licking each one away. Then he moved to her left foot and worked up that leg, going right up her stomach to her breast.

Nothing had ever been quite so erotic, her skin was tingling from the cold sea, and when he took her nipple in his warm mouth, she wanted him then and there. But it was clear James had every intention of making her wait. He moved to her fingertips, sucking those, and slowly worked his way back up her arm, towards her breast again, then the other one, until she felt she couldn’t stand it another moment. Then he moved down her middle to her belly, and with his face pressing into the soft flesh there, he probed inside her until she found herself begging him to fuck her.

‘Fuck you?’ he said, lifting his head from her belly, his face a picture of mock indignation. ‘Ladies don’t use such language!’

His seeming reluctance to enter her made her even more desperate, she was writhing against his fingers, pushing them harder still into her. He knelt between her legs, pushing them further apart and smiling as he watched her moving against him. Then all at once he moved down towards her sex, opening it wide with his fingers, his tongue ready to lick her there. She was shocked, but she wanted him so much she didn’t care what he did any longer.

But the feeling when his tongue lapped over her was so wonderful, she forgot herself and her ideas of decency, and just gave herself up to the utter bliss. Her arm nearest the fire was terribly hot, the other cold, steam was coming off his wet hair, but she was drifting off into a world where physical discomfort couldn’t touch her.

Her orgasm came all too soon, sending her off into a whirlpool of ecstasy. She heard herself screaming out his name, yet the voice didn’t appear to be coming from her own vocal chords.

All at once she was aware of him again, his mouth covering hers, and the sea-like smell of her on his lips. ‘Now I’m going to fuck you,’ he murmured. ‘For hours and hours.’

She thought they had risen to the greatest possible heights of passion many times before, but he took her a stage further still. He rolled over on to his back and made her ride on him that
way, kneading her breasts so hard that at times it hurt. But then he turned her over on to her stomach, and entered her from behind, tenderly whispering endearments into her ears, and kissing her neck, until she had a second orgasm. Then he turned her over again and carried on, kissing her with such fire she felt consumed by it.

When he finally came he cried out her name, and tears ran down his cheeks. She held his hard, sweaty body tight to her and gloried in the moment, knowing she had to hold it for ever in her mind, just in case it never happened again.

That night as they lay in each other’s arms listening to the sea and the wind, she wished she could put into words what she felt for him. Love encompassed so many different degrees of emotion. She’d felt it for her father, for Giles and Lily, for Tabitha, Cissie and her children, and Sidney too. There was the love she’d felt for Amelia, distinct from the others, yet the same too. Then of course the romantic love, for Flynn, Giles, and now James. With each one it had seemed nothing could be stronger or more intense, yet looking back the passion she felt for Flynn was nothing compared with Giles, and her feelings for James far surpassed both previous experiences. Poets spoke of wishing to die if they couldn’t have their beloved, but she felt such a sentiment was feeble. Love was enriching, it should be carried in one’s heart with pride, even if the loved one should die or be torn from you.

Yet she knew it was easy to think such noble thoughts while safe in her lover’s arms, knowing his heart and mind were in tune with hers. Maybe that pride could crumble without constant reassurance, or if they should be kept apart for too long.

There was still enough glow from the fire to see his face, he was looking back at her, almost as if his mind was reading hers and agreeing with every thought. A long, lean face, each line giving a clue as to how he made his living. The small ones at the corners of his eyes, from squinting into the sun, the small scars, all from various battles he never would relate. She had noted on the wagon train that he frowned at incompetence, and those frown lines on his forehead were far deeper now. Then there was the way he stuck his chin out with determination, the thin line beneath his lips showed he’d lost none of that.

‘I love you,’ she whispered. ‘I can’t tell you how much.’

‘One of these days when we’re together for ever, I wonder if we’ll still be scanning each other’s faces and trying to read one another’s mind,’ he said.

‘Maybe we won’t need to then,’ she whispered.

He took her in his arms and held her tightly, and she knew he was crying silently.

A week later Dolores came back to the apartment at London Lil’s to see Matilda and found her sitting looking at a daguerreotype of James with tears running down her cheeks.

‘Now, what’s all this?’ Dolores said. ‘You is supposed to be the woman who never cries!’

Matilda smiled weakly. ‘That’s just a myth,’ she retorted.

‘You jist get that picture taken?’ Dolores asked curiously, taking it from her hand. ‘Mighty clever what some folks can do, ain’t it? I can’t figure out how they can make a picture of someone come on a piece of paper.’

‘Nor me, Dolores,’ Matilda sighed. ‘We both had one taken, but I looked as stern in my one as James does in his.’

‘Sure looks like he’s got a poker up his nether regions.’ Dolores chuckled. ‘But he’s a fine-lookin’ man and no mistake.’

‘That’s all I’ve got to remember him by for a while,’ Matilda said wistfully. She thought of how James had tucked her picture into a little leather case along with her red garter and a lock of her hair. He said he was going to keep it in his pocket for ever.

‘No, it ain’t all you got. You got a head full of happy memories,’ Dolores snapped at her. ‘That’s more than some folks got.’

Dolores always had a knack of pointing out the real truth.

‘You’re right, of course,’ Matilda said, putting the picture down. ‘I’m forgetting myself. How’s things down at the house?’

‘Jist fine,’ the maid said. ‘Little Mai Ling learnt a whole sentence yesterday. She said, “Me no likee corn.” I guess that’s a start and she sure understood when I said she’d eat it and like it.’

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