The Perfumer's Secret (22 page)

‘He would be pleased to hear that. As the only female in the family, I often felt like an only child. He did worry about overindulgence sometimes, though, I’m sure of it.’ I felt embarrassed admitting this to Sébastien but transparency seemed important right now.

‘You can never overindulge a child with affection. It costs nothing.’

‘Well, affection and encouragement were like a fast-flowing stream from him . . . to all of his children . . . er . . .’ I faltered as I realised we’d inadvertently brought up the sins of my father and Sébastien’s mother. Here was the very shadow over our lives that I’d hoped to shut out of this room.

‘Can you find it in your heart to forgive him?’

I didn’t mean to narrow my gaze or clamp my jaw but both occurred anyway and he watched the gestures deliver him the unspoken answer.

‘Fleurette, I realise the wound is fresh but you must find the strength not to judge.’ He stepped closer now, throwing aside his walking cane to reach for me.

‘Why?’

He leaned forward and kissed me gently, softly urging my mouth to open and return it until my arms were around him and I could feel his need pressing against me. We broke slightly breathless and I was aware, even though I knew nothing firsthand about sexual union, that neither of us could wait much longer to share it. But he paused long enough to tip my chin and force me to look at him directly. I was aware of my breathing; I could see it creating a visible rise and fall of my chest. I wanted him. I felt light-headed at how delightfully reckless the need for the feel of his skin against mine was making me.

‘What?’ I searched his querying expression that was urging me to understand.

‘Think about how this feels.’

‘I am. I’ve never wanted anything so badly as this before.’

‘Say it.’

‘I want you to be my first . . . my last.’ It was a series of words I’d never uttered previously and hoped I’d never say again to anyone.

But Sébastien’s response was not what I’d hoped I’d hear in return. He did not speak of love or longing, or rather he did, but not of ours. ‘This is how they felt.’

It was as though a pail of cold water had just been tipped over me. I turned away and moved to sit on the edge of the bed. The alcove embraced me into its safe, familiar hollow.

‘Have I offended you?’

I shook my head in a lie. ‘It was my impression that men whispered sweet nothings into the ear of the woman they were trying to seduce.’

‘I’m not trying to seduce you. In fact, I think what we’re doing here is dangerous.’

It’s true that I sneered, but not at him personally. I knew he was trying to protect me from being rash, making a decision I might regret, and certainly couldn’t retrace my steps from and pretend hadn’t happened. But I needed to make him understand he wasn’t forcing me to do anything. He was not in control.

‘Sébastien, you can’t imagine how much, on my wedding night, I wished I
hadn’t
saved myself for someone special. I was naïve, I wanted my husband – who would be the man I loved with all of my romantic heart – to have the pleasure, the responsibility, the burden, even, of . . .’ I shrugged, knowing he’d understand.

‘Let’s wait. Please. Let’s not complicate an already complex situation. Do you really want to add adultery into your life?’

I gave him the respect of considering his question but shook my head. ‘You and I both know I can’t be accused of that.’

Sébastien looked at me with profound affection and I felt my heartbeat stutter. The feeling was wonderful, to be truthful; I loved this sensation of falling in love, of being so interested in one person that everything else paled.

‘You and I know that, yes, but the rest of Grasse doesn’t. I didn’t come here to steal my brother’s bride.’

‘Too late,’ I quipped. ‘Anyway, I don’t care about what people think. I will set any detractors straight when the truth is out.’

‘The truth has a way of going askew. The purity of how you feel doesn’t necessarily mean it can’t hurt others.’

‘Like Aimery?’

He nodded.

‘You care about him?’

‘I don’t know him. But it doesn’t change my opinion that none of this is his fault.’

‘True. But you should know he has a mistress who I can tell is precious to him. She even visited me only a few days ago to strike a bargain with me that I leave them to their clandestine affair.’

He looked at me, aghast.

‘Yes, it’s shocking when I say it like that but she’s actually immensely likeable and I admire her self-assurance, her honesty and her offer to protect me from my husband by providing what he needs.’

‘You struck a bargain?’ he said, sounding incredulous.

‘The truth of Aimery’s birth has given me my excuse for escape, but Sébastien, he makes my skin crawl. Graciela’s offer was most welcome, I can assure you. Anything that might distract him from me is something I’d grab at. But now you’ve given me legitimate legal and spiritual reasons to annul my marriage, which was a sham anyway. And now I’m not going to talk about it any more. I will love whom I want and I will choose who shall be my first lover. I’ve chosen you. I cannot be dissuaded. So now it’s up to you. If you deny me, fine, but don’t do so out of worrying about the little virginal girl. I want this. I need it.’

He blinked, torn.

‘I want you, Sébastien – I know we only met yesterday but I’ve never felt like this before and I like how it feels and I’m not scared and I want all of it . . . all of you.’ I looked down from where I sat on the edge of the bed. I hated to beg. ‘Please. My father’s adulterous affair with your mother shouldn’t be compared to this.’ Even as I said it, I didn’t believe it. The truth was that I was behaving exactly as they probably had – helpless, yearning for each other, her facing a loveless marriage, him a carefree bachelor with no love in his life. We were like a mirror image of them.

He limped a couple of strides and knelt in front of me with difficulty so he could look up into my eyes that were fixed on the rug. I didn’t want him to see my fear of rejection at a moment of such vulnerability. I deliberately laid my palms flat on the coverlet too, denying him any chance to take either of my hands into his. I wanted him to know that talk of my father’s adultery was still raw for me. I could count how long I’d known about it in hours – the wound was fresh, still bleeding. No, I wasn’t offended in truth because Sébastien had come to save me from my father’s sin but I wasn’t happy either to be bringing the perfumer’s secret into my bedroom, into our special moment. And just as Felix would snap me out of a dark passage of thought by distracting me, Sébastien instinctively knew to do the same.

‘So you think I’m seducing you?’

‘Aren’t you?’

‘No. Seduction suggests I simply want to have my way with you.’

‘Don’t you?’ I said, realising I was teasing in the coy way those flirtatious girls I had so often wished I could behave like did.

‘I do. Desperately,’ he groaned and I smiled, though glad he couldn’t see it because his attention was fixed on the hem of my skirt for some reason. ‘But you see,’ he continued, ‘seduction, in my interpretation, is about lust, which can be thoroughly fun, I should admit. However, what is happening to me is unnerving because I’ve surrendered my power.’

‘What does that mean?’

‘Well, if I want to seduce someone, then I have the control. Whereas, where you’re concerned, I cannot manipulate the situation because you’re in charge. I’ve yielded because I’ve fallen in love with you. And what I’m doing now,’ he said, raising my hem to reveal my legs and to make me gasp inwardly, ‘is making love to you.’ He reached under my skirt to run his fingers tantalisingly up my stockings to where they were pinned. ‘There is a difference,’ he finished, as he expertly released the first fastening.

I could no longer keep a cool head as his clearly well-honed skills in dismantling the fussy undergarments that we women wore were frighteningly speedy; and he was doing with one hand what I needed two for each evening. Before I could raise his head to look at me, my sensible day stockings were pooled around my ankles. Scarily, my first thought was not what would people think of such a delicate position the newly married Delacroix girl found herself in, but just how quickly could we get out of our clothes so we could both be naked and feel the full joy of each other.

But Sébastien had other ideas, for once again his head bent and now he began to kiss the revealed skin of my legs. In shock I thought I might cry out with the outrageous pulse of pleasure that vibrated through me. Instead I let out another gasp as he moved higher with soft kisses and I felt myself falling backwards against the coverlets.

‘There’s no rush for this,’ he whispered, and then I didn’t hear another word but I was sure the whole world could listen to my heartbeat.

__________

This was it. I felt as though I had reached the summit of life and I was now basking with the gods on some imaginary mountain looking down upon the valleys where ordinary people lived. Except I didn’t feel ordinary right now – what I had just experienced had been outside of all normality. Nevertheless, as I lay there smiling to myself, it occurred to me that just about everyone I knew in Grasse had been busy at this particular pleasure, but I allowed myself to believe what had occurred between Sébastien and me was rare and sparklingly precious.

He seemed to pick up on my thoughts as I lay in the crook of his good arm. His breathing had improved too and I no longer worried that our lovemaking was endangering his recovery.

‘It will never feel like that again,’ he wheezed softly, twisting a curl of my hair around his fingers.

I shifted out of my dreamy thoughts to regard him. ‘Why?’

‘First time? Oh, I don’t know. It’s like uncovering a secret that everyone else knows about and shares and you’re finally let in on it.’

I nodded, amused. ‘That’s exactly how I feel. It makes me cross to think that buxom Madame Chaval has birthed eight children to prove how busy she’s been at the secret.’

He laughed and coughed at once. ‘Madame Mouflard too, don’t forget.’

I cut him a look of mock horror, which widened his smile and kept it in place as he stared back at me. ‘Tell me about your first.’

‘A gentleman never reveals —’

‘Oh, that’s not fair. You are intimate with my first time.’

‘This is true. You have me there. All right. Her name was Gabrielle.’

‘Pretty name.’

‘As pretty as she was,’ he agreed.

‘How old were you?’

‘Fourteen.’ Now my look of horror wasn’t feigned and his body shook with laughter beneath me. ‘So I began early!’

‘I had my hair in plaits at fourteen!’

‘And I bet you looked like a minx.’

I gave him a playful shove. ‘How old was Gabrielle?’

‘Ah, she was twenty-three, I believe.’

I gasped. ‘Nine years’ difference! Had she no shame?’

‘None at all, and I was glad for it. She taught me plenty about pleasuring a woman. I owe her a debt.’

‘Was she a —’

He put a finger to my lips. ‘Gabrielle is one of the kindest, most generous people I’ve ever known. She was beautiful but poor and she earned her money the only way she could. She enriched my life, taught me skills, made me laugh . . . and especially she gave me affection when I most needed it. We were friends as much as . . . um, partners in a transaction.’

I smiled. ‘Do you still see her?’

He shook his head. ‘I came to a point where I didn’t want to share her. She used to laugh at my possessiveness.’

‘What happened?’ I leaned on my elbow to look at him squarely. I was intrigued.

Sébastien shrugged. ‘I grew up and realised she’d also taught me how to make love to a woman without being in love.’

‘Is that possible?’

‘Oh, yes. And that’s when it is pure lust. Providing both people understand they’re simply enjoying one another, neither needs to get hurt.’

‘I see. So you don’t think you’ve hurt anyone along the way?’

‘I didn’t say that, but I’ve always been honest.’

‘Have you ever been in love before?’

‘Once.’ He grew more serious. ‘It felt real at the time.’

‘Tell me.’

‘I was fourteen. Her name was Gabrielle.’

I grinned but he didn’t return it and I realised I had finally found my way to the very centre of Sébastien. For all his jests, his gentlemanly manners, his carnal knowledge, his intelligence, his romanticism . . . this was the place where his soul resided. ‘So she was your first and your only love,’ I whispered, remembering how this conversation had begun.

He nodded.

‘Nothing even close again?’

‘Until now.’

I felt a surge of relief to hear this.

‘But it’s different.’

‘How?’

‘I’m older, wiser. More to the point, you feel wondrous. New and shiny . . . and mine.’

‘And are you mine?’

‘All of me. Every last inch!’ He made his eyebrows dance at his remark and I had to cover my mouth with the quilt to stop my laughter resounding too loudly through the empty house. Walls still had ears, I reminded myself. ‘Did I hurt you?’ he asked, suddenly tender as I regained my composure.

‘Yes.’

He opened his mouth in alarm.

‘No more than I expected, and it wouldn’t put me off doing it again and again . . . and again.’ I shamelessly rolled on top of him, loving this new and reckless sense of freedom that a naked man beneath me brought. He coughed and I rolled back off, alarmed, but he ignored my worry.

‘You are mine, aren’t you?’ he said, sounding uncharacteristically hesitant.

‘From the crown of my head to my little toe, I am yours, Sébastien De Lasset.’ And then a gust of sharp reality edged closer. ‘Of course, that’s our secret.’

‘Only for the time being. As soon as we can, we are going to explain everything to Aimery.’

‘I don’t want to think about the ugly scene as Aimery learns of my adultery.’

‘We can hardly hide it or we become like the very people you are finding so hard to forgive.’

His threat troubled me dimly somewhere deep where I didn’t care enough to explore it. I knew I didn’t want to ruin Aimery, and yet Sébastien’s words suggested that’s precisely what was likely to happen. Sébastien didn’t know his brother as well as I did; reputation was everything to Aimery . . . everything!