“I agree,” I said. “But we need not rush, my love. We are both young yet.”
He touched my chin with his hand, and turned my face toward his, and then moved forward and touched my lips with his. I breathed in the scent of him, the tingle of his lips on mine even more inductive to a feeling of imbalance and intoxicating than the roses that serenaded our kissing. He moved his hands over my body; and I moved mine over his.
After our breath foray into passion, we resumed our walk. If there is a woman reading this tale, she will no doubt be thinking: “But were you not terrified that he would desert you and leave you ruined? Many a woman has been ruined in very similar circumstances! How could you be so foolish! How could you be so brash!” You are not wrong. I was brash, and perhaps I was foolish in my conduct, but the heart is not some hound to be leashed whenever one pleases. The pleasures of the body are trained pigeons to be called back at a moment’s notice once they have taken flight.
All of us, as persons with humane bodies, are subject to passion and love and closeness. I did not think of being deserted; I only thought of what I had with me now.
We had walked most of the day, and the two of us were tired.
Before we returned to the Castle, the Duke asked me if I would join him for dinner in his chambers the following night. I agreed – how could I not? – and the date was set.
I was so excited for the dinner that I could barely sleep the night before. I lay awake all night going over and over the events of the past few days. Though it had only been a few days, I felt sure that more time had elapsed. Perhaps it was because the turning of events was so awesome. In the space of a few days I had found love, shrugged off social propriety, and “dishonored” myself. There was no going back for me now. I didn’t even think Father would understand, would I ever to tell him. I had crossed a definitive and clear line.
Finally, after a few hours of intermittent sleep, the morning came. Mornings are easier than nights to wait through, I find. There are people around, with whom you can pretend that everything is not reaching a climax: with whom you can pretend life is chugging along as it always has. Charlotte and I went for a walk in the gardens before breakfast, and then ate a light meal before I wandered in the library by myself, occasionally reading, but mostly just being amongst the books.
I watched the course of the sun with a more avid interest that I normally would, and indeed I was afraid some eye strain may result from it, which forced me to close the curtains in the library and read my candlelight. When substantial time had passed, I returned to my quarters and awaited the Dukes summon. The Duke had generously supplied me and Charlotte with clothes, as we only brought enough for a day visit and nothing more. Going through these clothes, I found a floaty, almost ethereal dress woven of blue silk the same color as the Duke’s eyes. I donned this, as well as some earrings I had brought in a small pouch.
Standing before the looking glass, I found myself staring at a handsome woman whose cheeks had reddened with emotion. I looked more vital than I ever had. Love will, I had discovered, make even the most deathly pallor beam with vibrant life; and my pallor had always been on the youthful side of the scale.
Just after I finished dressing, Charlotte came charging into my room. “Sorry, Miss,” she breathed. “It’s just that I walked into the Duke by accident, and he has asked to see you. You see, I was with some of the servants who were setting up the dining room. It is beautiful, Miss, and I was wondering who the Duke was dining with, and then he asked me to fetch you. Not fetch, Miss. I didn’t mean fetch.”
“Relax,” I said, trying to soothe the girl. “I will go to him at once. That will be all, Charlotte.”
Charlotte left, and I made my way through the Castle to the dining room. The chandelier glittered with the light of the torches that burned in sconces along the walls. The curtains were drawn, and the Duke sat at the end of the long dining table. He stood upon my entrance, and I walked over to his end of the table. He pulled a seat out for me, and together we sat.
We said nothing to each other until the servants had brought our food, which they did soon after I sat down. When the food and the drink was brought, the Duke dismissed the servants so that we could be alone. The wine was a magnificent red; I felt as though Spain was on my tongue. The Duke held up his glass, and we clinked them.
“Do you like it?” he said.
“I do,” I replied. “It is beautiful to behold.”
“You are beautiful to behold,” he said impulsively.
I thought about chastising him for his hasty speech, but we had long since passed the point of proper etiquette, and so I took the compliment striding. The Duke was wearing his most elegant and becoming finery, which accentuated his handsomeness. The Duke stared down at his hands for a moment, and then looked swiftly into my eyes.