She rose as he gently pulled her up out of her seat and led her to the center of the floor where the dancing had started. Waltzing, of course. Turning to her, his hand repositioned to hers bringing them palm to palm. She never touched his skin and the feel was confronting; the touch radiating out through her arm, making her tingle. His other hand moved around her back, settling at its base, warm and firm. His mouth was close to her eyes, forcing her to see him much more intimately than she could remember seeing. This dance alluded to intimacy without allowing the full contact between their bodies. This was definitely not a good idea.
Lysander started moving, forcing Adele to follow his lead and to place her hand on his shoulder. In this dance, she had to follow him, just like she had to in real life. This elegant dance also highlighted the true nature of control in relationships between men and women—the control he had over her—as if to say beautiful things happened when there was harmony between them.
Adele felt short of breath as he turned her around on the floor, more so when their thighs would touch as they moved. It was intensely uncomfortable, but she had to bear with this as she had so completely risen to the challenge he’d presented, while resenting herself for still caring.
Mercifully the dance ended and Adele was finally released from the embrace. He had strictly kept the required space between their bodies throughout the dance, but it was confronting nonetheless.
Returning to the table, Lysander turned to her. “Do you wish to return to your cabin?”
“No, I’m fine,” she lied. She really did want to return, but his goading still drove her.
He considered her for a moment, then nodded and turned to participate in a discussion as they neared a group. Adele still felt assaulted and confronted by their recent physical intimacy. Slowly, she drifted toward the conversation as well.
“Would you care to dance again?” Professor Smith asked her. Again she felt a moment of panic, but for different reasons. “If your husband wouldn’t mind, of course.”
Lysander looked tense with the muscles of his jaw twinging, but he nodded graciously.
Adele took the professor’s hand, but it didn’t have the charged feeling that it had with Lysander. The professor led her to the floor and twirled her to him. Lysander’s accusation that she encouraged the attention of other men flitted through her mind. On one level it was true; she preferred the attention of other men over her husband; dancing with the professor was more fun than it was confronting. There wasn’t the heavy bearing of meaning that it had with her husband. This dance was just for the sheer joy of it and she smiled as he started turning her around, conscious that Lysander’s eyes were on her. She actually did enjoy dancing, normally and the enjoyment of it seemed to be returning, and it ended much too quickly, returning her to the solemn and disapproving countenance of her husband. Lysander nodded tightly as the professor returned her to Lysander’s care. Adele almost regretted it; for a moment, she had been away from the gravity of their dealings, for a moment of carefree and light enjoyment.
“You are proving quite a popular dance partner tonight,” he said.
“So it would appear,” she said guardedly.
“I think it is time to retire. The evening grows late and I know how much you dislike staying up.”
A frown fleeted across her face. Lysander didn’t normally direct her comings and goings, but he was tonight, knowing it had to do with the professor dancing with her.
“I will escort you,” he said.
“Thank you.” She didn’t mind withdrawing. The evening had been tense and uncomfortable. Lysander’s presence at her side had been impossible to ignore. Escaping would be merciful, even if being told to do so grated, but being away from his scrutiny made his overbearingness worth suffering.
The night was clearly humid and she would sleep badly that night, even with the more rigorous exercise that evening. She would toss and turn, trying to alleviate the ill-at-ease feeling brought on by this weather. But she knew it was more than weather. The fact that they had departed Australia and were now firmly on their way to Europe, only brought home the idea that she was returning to London and the life she’d lived before—the one she couldn’t tolerate.
Chapter 12
Adele took her usual seat at the shady side of the ship, where she preferred to spend her days. Everyone knew where to find her and now that she knew well the people traveling with them, she didn’t mind so much when people stopped to chat as they took their exercise or wiled away their boredom. She knew the circumstances and intentions of everyone on the ship.
“It appears we will part company soon,” Mrs Callisfore said, sitting down in the other chair.
“We are?” Adele said with confusion.
“It is only a few days until we reach the Suez and I will be continuing on to Jerusalem, I have decided. I thought it would be a shame to pass this way and not stop by. Have you ever been?” Adele shook her head. “You should make that handsome husband take you.”
Smiling tightly as had become customary at the mention of her husband, Adele ran her gloved finger along the spine of the book she’d put aside. Mr Ellingwood was the kind of man who would be happy to stop somewhere to just explore, but that was not her situation now. “I am not sure the heat agrees with Lord Warburton.”
“What are your plans, dear?”
Adele realized that she had absolutely no idea. She hadn’t even realized they were going through the Suez, or that they were so close to it.
“I am not sure. Lord Warburton does all the planning.”
Mrs Callisfore reached over and patted her hand. “I do hope you will come see me sometime. You are such a lovely girl and I would very much like our acquaintance to continue.”
“Of course,” Adele said with a more genuine smile. Visiting Mrs Callisfore was one thing she could plan for her future. Surely Lysander wouldn’t refuse her request. Feeling her smile slip a bit, she forced it back. She was to stay married to him; he’d refused her a divorce. “That would be lovely.”
“I suppose this ship will return to Australia now,” Mrs Callisfore said.
Adele hadn’t realized the ship wouldn’t continue. She had to ask Lysander to tell her what their plans were. She’d believed the ship was taking them all the way to England, but it seemed to be returning. Leaning back, she contemplated the idea of returning to Australia with the ship, but she knew Lysander wouldn’t allow it. Misery bit at her heels, but she refused to give into it. She was going back to London and if lucky enough to find someone who cared for her again; she would just have to take Lysander’s suggestion and find her happiness with more discretion. It hadn’t actually been a recommendation of his, but she couldn’t continue like she had been. If there was one thing she’d learnt it was that she was responsible for her own happiness.
Adele took Lysander’s arm as he walked her to the salon to dine that evening, a habit they had done in silence quite a few times since they’d had their argument.
“We will be traveling through the canal soon,” she stated. “Will we travel straight to England from there?”
“No, we will disembark in Venice, from where we will continue north by rail.”
“Oh,” she said, realising that they would be in Europe very shortly.
She wanted to beg him to let her return to Australia with this ship, but she already knew what the answer would be, and her question could very well invite a further candid revelation of their feelings. She saw no purpose in it; she’d revealed her feelings in sufficient detail last time, and the truth was that he didn’t care. He’d been perfectly clear when he’d said his concerns were exclusively for duty.
“How long will we stay in Venice?” As distressing as the thought of Europe was, the idea of seeing Venice was exciting. It was one of those places she’d always wanted to see—one of the unique places on earth with a convergence of history, culture and beauty.
“We are leaving as soon as we arrive.”
“But it is Ve
nice, aren’t you curious to see the city?”
“In all honesty, this was never meant to be a trip to explore European cities; I went to retrieve the effects of my deceased wife. I am not about to go gallivanting around an Italian city.”
Closing her mouth, Adele looked away. She wondered if he would highlight her crimes from now on in response to every request she put to him. Any ounce of joy and excitement and he sucked it out of the air. “Of course,” she said, letting go of his arm, feeling like she needed some distance. There were times when it was simply too hard to even act the part of dutiful wife.
She ensured to smile broadly as they entered the salon. It was time to perform—a duty ingrained in her from earliest girlhood. She wondered at the idea of not doing it; of refusing to act the part and admit to all of these people here that not only was her marriage in an atrocious state, she’d run away from her husband and he was now returning her to the prison he kept her in. She could well imagine the shocked faces of the people present—probably more so for the honest confession over the reality of her situation. Honesty was not done—one did not wash one’s own dirty linen in public, no matter how bad the true situation was. One never admitted dislike or discord with anyone, particularly not one’s husband. These things were borne with grace.
Chapter 13
They’d changed ships in the Port of Tawfiq, just at the Red Sea entrance to the Suez, having said goodbye to some of their acquaintances from the steamship; people Lysander had grown used to seeing every day over the last few months. Adele had said a fond goodbye to some of the friends she’d made on the trip, particularly Mrs Callisfore, who had made Lysander promise to send Adele to see her when they were back in England. The woman was skilled at putting things in a way that he couldn’t refuse, so he’d had to say ‘Of course, at Lady Warburton’s opportunity’.
They had transferred to the other ship without incident and it was immediately noticeable that the smaller ship, able to travel through the canal, was much less stable in the water than the large steamship, but otherwise equally comfortable in essence.
He had borne Adele’s disappointment for a few days now; a slight chilling in her regard, as if he’d confirmed to her that she was right about him. It made him feel ungenerous, and he didn’t like it. He had never been ungenerous in his dealings with her, but then her requests had never had any kind of real impact on his life and schedule, signifying a delay to his plan.
He found her watching the sights of the canal pass before them—the foreign land that slowly and silently passed by, with its desert landscape and strange peoples.
“I suppose we could stop one day in Venice if you wish,” he said as he reached her, taking her slightly by surprise.
She turned to him. “That would be wonderful. I have always wanted to see it.”
“It is an interesting city, I suppose.”
“Have you spent some time there?”
“Yes, in my youth, before...” He was going to say ‘you’, but stopped himself. “We went—a group of us—over a summer. We traveled around Italy and France.”
“I wasn’t aware,” she said, watching him.
“It was a long time ago.” His mind traveled back to a wonderful summer he’d spent in Southern Europe with his circle of friends. It had been the best time of his life and he hadn’t thought about it for a long time. All possibilities had been opened to him then and he’d been unaware of the realities of his future. “This time of year is not the best time to see Venice, of course.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Adele said. He could hear excitement in her voice and he felt an irrational sense of pride having brought her pleasure and a slight flush to her face.
“We’ll arrive in the morning; spend one night in Venice, then take the train the next day.”
Adele’s excitement was evident in her movements. She squeezed his arm slightly in gratitude—he expected it wasn’t an action she’d been aware of.
It was a cold and rainy day when their ship sailed into port in Venice. He’d been right; it was a less than suitable day to go gallivanting around Venice, but Adele didn’t seem to be put off. She was dressed and ready when they sailed in, and they stood and watched over one of the railings, while the crew did their bit to prepare for arrival.
“It’s beautiful,” Adele said. Lysander didn’t say anything. He wasn’t exactly dreading the day, but neither was he relishing spending a rainy day sightseeing. Sighing, he decided he would see about getting them a pair of umbrellas. He’d sent directions to the staff to secure him two rooms at one of the finer hotels and they would see to the conveyance of their trunks and belongings.
Stepping onto the wet stone quay at Venice port, he turned to assist her off the gangway. As every port he’d seen—and he’d seen a few of late—Venice port was active and busy irrespective of the rain. They walked for a while before he found a general merchants store, where he purchased two umbrellas that would functionally serve to protect them from the rain.
“Are you sure you want to spend the day here? We can go straight to the train.”
“Of course I do. It is only a little rain. I wouldn’t forgo seeing Venice for a little rain—a flood maybe, but nothing short of that.”
“Then come this way,” he said and urged her toward one of the smaller canals leading away from the port. A gondola waited for customers; its owner wrapped up in a heavy cloak. The man uncovered a bench at the center of the sleek, black vessel and Lysander held Adele’s hand as she stepped onto its unstable floor. “Caffé Florian,” he said to the man.
The boat moved smoothly through the quiet canals. It certainly wasn’t busy on a day like this and the smell of the city was washed away and suppressed with the rain, leaving the whole city looking shiny and clean. Adele’s eyes were large, taking in the sights of the ancient city. The only sounds were that of running water as it ran down spouts along the canal.
Lysander had never actually been outside in Venice during weather like this, having spent the rare rainy day inside during the summer he’d been here. The city appeared deserted, like it was there for them to explore on their own. A few shops were open, lights shining out of glass windows, but only the rare person hurried along outside, seeking refuge from the rain.
The gondola took them down a maze of canals over the dark green waters until they reached the Piazza di San Marco. The square was deserted and the only sounds were their own steps across the stones of the square. Adele stopped to survey its beauty.
“That is the Doge’s Palace,” she said, pointing at an ornate building occupying an entire side of the square.
“Yes, but let’s bolster our resolve with some refreshments first.” He urged her toward the cafe along another side of the square. “Then we can explore.” She turned back to him, a broad infectious smile across her features. “Come. We will eat first.”
They were shown to a table at the cafe he’d been to numerous times before. It was sparsely visited, compared to how it was in summer, when it was full of tourists, including, invariably, people he knew from London. Over the summer he’d spent there, it wasn’t unusual to run into groups of people from his own wider circle of acquaintances as they visited the city.
He ordered pastries, ham, eggs and coffee—a hearty morning meal that would see them through the day. The rain persisted outside as they sat near the window. The dampness of the day made water condense on the windows inside the warm restaurant.
“Thank you for taking me here,” she said again. “I do realize it is not a wonderful day for seeing Venice, but I will never forget that you gave me this opportunity.” Taking in the décor of the café, her face was flushed from the chill outside and her lips were the color of a blooming rose. If he cared to admit it, she looked enchanting as she tore a piece of pastry, placing it in her mouth before bringing the small cup of coffee up to her mouth. “I don’t normally drink coffee.”
“It is what is done here.” He took a sip of the thick, dark liquid, letting it coa
t his mouth and warm his tongue. The food was delicious, and when they’d finished, he could see Adele watch longingly out the window. “Well then, shall we proceed?”
“Yes,” she said with obvious excitement. Opening the door, he led her outside into the atrocious weather. Their umbrellas were still waiting outside and the patter of the rain could be heard on them as they walked out from the covered walkway.
“Do you want to see the Doge’s Palace?”
“I would love to.”
Walking through the Palace’s sumptuous halls for an hour, they would occasionally encounter another couple, but for the most part, they had it to themselves. Adele turned to see the pictures on the walls and the frescos on the ceiling—the treasures of the Church and another age. The rooms had a musty smell and after a while, he grew tired of the gold leaf and endless paintings—Adele drew his attention more as she tried to take in the overwhelming sights of the place. Reaching out, she touched a statue tentatively, feeling the texture of it.
“Come, let’s walk outside for a while,” he suggested. She turned to take his arm, joining him silently. For a second it seemed like they belonged together. He was getting used to having her at his side.
Lysander breathed in the fresh air when they reached the outside. It was still raining and they reclaimed the umbrellas, before picking a street at random and heading down its narrow walkway, past shops and restaurants.
It felt like they were the only two people in the world, and he was surprised at how comfortable he felt in her company for once—perhaps because her attention was completely absorbed by their surroundings. Her skirt was getting wet, but she didn’t seem to notice. He wondered if he should cut this excursion short, but then felt he shouldn’t be such a spoil-sport—neither of them were children and a bit of rain, for one day, would do no harm.
An Absent Wife Page 9
