by Tori Anne
As her head lolled back in delirium she felt his tongue dance down the line of her throat. Wonders pounded in her blood. His arms squeezed around her waist, lifting her so that his face was pressed against her bosom, his lips tracing the line of her cleavage and caressing the swell above the tight synch of her corset. She kept gasping, which seemed to unhinge him further, his tongue questing just below her bodice boundary, his hands seizing her bound-up hair and loosening pins.
If it were not winter she might have begun tearing at her clothes, wanting to feel Edward’s lips everywhere, his steady hands everywhere…for these first kisses to lead an expedition, for him to be the first of everything, her first kiss, her first desire…
Her first love… “I love you!” she gasped against his ear.
Edward pulled back and stared down at her, amazed.
Marie blushed. “I…I’ve never felt anything like this. I…I’ve been scared to desire someone. But you…make it so, so easy, Edward… You’ve opened my eyes to so much…”
She lifted her head to kiss him. His hands tightened on her shoulders. This time the kiss was furious, demanding as he slid his arms around her back and dipped her onto his lap, kissing so deeply they gasped against their lips but dared not break free until Edward felt the tears leaking from Marie’s eyes.
He pulled back in alarm, shifting her up to sit next to him, withdrawing against the other side of the bench.
“Oh no, I’ve gone too far…” he said ruefully. “I was scared I couldn’t control myself,” he fussed over her, trying to put back into place the locks of her hair that had fallen. “Forgive me—”
Marie put a hand to his mouth and giggled. “Women cry for many reasons, as often for joy as sorrow. You move me to tears, dear Edward. I can only hope you don’t find me less of a lady for this.”
He relaxed a little. “Nothing you could do would make me think otherwise of you.” He said earnestly. “Though I will say you’re a quick study,” he murmured with a dreamy smirk, his eyes fluttering under their lids in ecstasy. “Tell me you haven’t had others schooling you in such matters,” he scowled suddenly, jealously. “Bernice said you’re a more worldly woman than you let on and it worries me what she means by that.”
Marie laughed. “I defer to you, my teacher of kisses, and I daresay I want for no other professor. When Bernice means worldly, she means that I’ve resorted to all manner of trickery to go out and see the world. That doesn’t mean that I’ve tasted of the world. For all my posturing, I was terrified of kisses. They seemed so…intrusive and messy. But now I realize I’d just never found a man I wanted to kiss.”
“Good then, keep it that way,” he said, wrapping his arm around her possessively and staring out at the lake.
He reached up and patted Fred’s muzzle.
Edward sighed suddenly.
“What are you thinking?”
He shrugged. “Oh, Marie, my beautiful Marie… I want more to life than what I have. Not that I don’t like my job, and wouldn’t want to be with you to the ends of the earth,” he added hastily. “But we’re just now grown, you and I. I don’t know about you, but I want to do more. Horses have always taken to me and so I feel I’ve got something to give in the, you know, science of them.” His face was writ with excitement. “I’ve been reading as many books as I can get my hands on. There’s a school that’s just opened, here in New York. I’ve been too nervous to see how much money it would cost to go there… But if I could actually get a profession, Marie…then…I might…compete.”
“Compete…in what…a race?”
He chuckled and shook his head. “No…for you…for your hand.”
Marie looked up at him, pressed against him, and she hoped he heard her heart pounding and skipping beats and that those rhythms could express what she found her tongue fumbled over.
“Oh, Edward, I’d give you…you don’t need…”
“Yes, I do.”
“But I don’t care—”
“But I want a profession. All those women in the Cooper Union? They were all wives of men of profession. And those wives are who got Mr. Bergh’s law passed. Their influence in their homes, their support in the papers, their hard work on every level. You and your mind can do great things like that, Marie, you and your stubbornness is perfect for it, but not if you go run off with some pauper where you’ll not find your voice again but for the struggle.”
Marie opened her mouth to argue but she saw the audience of the Cooper in her mind and realized he had a point. If she had love, she might be happy as a pauper, but she supposed she’d be romanticizing it just like Bernice had accused her of doing. She, and Edward too it seemed, felt a bit stuck.
But Marie was nothing if not crafty. She would think up a way.
“Just a few more days until Christmas. All I wish for is you,” Edward said, kissing the top of her head and lifting her up. “Now let’s get you back home before we’re caught breaking all societal law.”
“A happier criminal you could not find!” Marie cried.
Edward laughed.
Thankfully Marie was able to duck in and up the servants’ staircase and into the upstairs parlor without incident. She stood on the other side of an interior door and knocked.
There was a muffled sound, a bit of a squeal and then a “do come in,” from Bernice.
The two sat on opposite sides of the room.
But their rumpled appearance gave them away and Marie was sure she wasn’t far behind them.
“I hope you’ve had the bracing hour that I’ve had.”
“Oh, quite,” Mr. Phillips said blissfully.
“You don’t mind keeping up the charade?”
“I daresay it’s the best Christmas present I’ve ever been given,” he replied gamely.
Bernice was glowing. “He’s going to help me with my dress company, and I’m going to help get him to France!”
“Indeed?” Marie exclaimed, impressed. “Now for my tides to turn!”
****
That night Marie lay awake, her lips still brazed and tender from the fury of their kisses, tossing in her nightgown with the thrills of Edward’s caresses. She could hear the dulcet tones of her mother playing Christmas carols on the piano downstairs.
Love, and Christmas, Marie decided, was a glorious combination. She felt the hymns in her heart and the fires of winter in her blood, stoked by the kisses of her first and only love. There wasn’t any better man than Edward, Marie was sure.
And she’d thought a great deal about the qualities of mankind.
Edward Forest was high class.
In the new year, Marie promised herself and the heavens, she would see to it that her life, and Edward’s, would rush forward with promise, together, no matter what boundaries stood in their way.
Chapter Five
The next day Marie rose late, having ignored the call to breakfast. She wanted to daydream. She sat staring down at the stables in the back yard. She watched Edward come and go, taking her father to work, and every time he looked up at her window, she was touched that he knew right where it was. And every time, he smiled up at her as if his world was as glorious and new as hers.
She nearly flounced into her mother’s study later in the day.
“Hello mother,” she kissed her cheek.
“You’re in a lovely mood.”
“It’s nearly Christmas, why wouldn’t I be in a lovely mood?”
“Since when do you love Christmas so? I thought you loved New Years best, when we allow you champagne and I always get the sneaking suspicion you hold it down too well for a girl your age.”
Marie froze. She’d have to remember to do better about acting tipsy. She and her cousin Bette had snuck tastes of every conceivable liquor in an ongoing, comparative study, convinced that men shouldn’t have all the fun at a well-stocked bar while ladies were relegated only to frilly cocktails. She wondered if this would appall or delight Edward.
“Isn’t it better that I have a head for li
quor than to find me fainting down the staircase?”
“I suppose so. You’d best go and tell Edward Merry Christmas,” her mother added nonchalantly.
Marie furrowed her brow. “Why can’t I tell him on Christmas?”
“Because he’s going away. He’s been summoned. I’m not sure what it’s all about, it has only just now come up, you’d best ask him.”
Marie felt her body tense and everything inside felt as if it were falling fast, hard and nauseating.
“I…beg your pardon?”
“He’s going away, dear. Why, is that a…problem?” Her mother eyed her. “You look white as a ghost. Why on earth should you care for the fate of a stable boy?”
“I…why…he’s no mere stable boy, Mother, he’s invaluable,” Marie said, forcing herself to act businesslike. She’d lied about infinite adventures and convinced her family of myriad banalities compared to her real truths. But nothing that ever mattered this much… Did he want to go away?”
“I realize he’s talented, but you can’t be upset about the coming and going of our staff, Marie.”
“Where is he going?”
“I haven’t the foggiest. I suppose you could ask him, but I’d not spend long. The rest of the help will talk if you’re seen chatting like friends. Not to mention your father would—”
“Yes, yes,” Marie murmured, and numbly walked out of the room. She waited until she saw Edward return with her father in tow. They shook hands and her father walked away. Edward looked extremely confused. He stared up at Marie worriedly. Her heart sunk. He had been fired. Someone had seen them, surely… But wouldn’t Mother have said so? Or was she too damned diplomatic…
She waited for night to fall.
Perhaps it was fitting that the evening was bitterly cold when she threw her cloak around her shoulders and ran to the stables. Before she opened the door she thought first to check around the premises to see if there was a spy. Surprised not to find one, she stormed in the stable entrance.
“What’s this about you going away?”
Edward started, putting down the armload of hay he’d lifted to toss into the freshly cleaned stall. He brushed himself off, tall and unbearably handsome in mere trousers, suspenders and a black wool shirt.
“Marie!” he rushed up to her, taking her firmly in his arms and kissing her softly on the lips.
“I said, what’s this about you going away?” she pulled back, folding her arms.
“I’ve no idea. It’s the strangest thing. I received a key…and a…stack of money…in the mail. All the note says is to pack my bags, there will be a carriage for me in the morning.”
“They’re paying you off not to talk about us,” Marie scowled.
“But wouldn’t your father have said something? He just said ‘I hear you’re going away, we’ll miss you, you’ve been a good driver when you’re not interfering in other people’s business.’ Don’t you think if he knew I kissed you he’d have punched me squarely in the mouth?”
She didn’t bother to wipe the tears from her eyes.
“How can you go away if you don’t know where you’re going? It’s a very polite and maddeningly diplomatic way to get you out of my life. Sounds very much like Mother,” Marie said angrily.
Her eyes lit upon the envelope.
“Let’s just go. Tonight. Let’s use that money and run away. Bette’s family has a cottage in France, she knows where they hide the key-”
Edward shook his head. “Not on either of our lives. I’ll not ruin our chances for an upstanding, normal life because I’ve put a price on our heads by absconding with you. There’s got to be an explanation for this. We’ll see in the morning.”
Marie’s mind was spinning. “No! It could be some trap! They could be sending you off to some prison camp—Edward, I may never see you again!” She flung her arms around him. “And I just fell in love with you and its Christmas and it isn’t fair!”
“Do people usually get paid hefty sums before being sent to a prison camp?” Edward asked, smirking down at her.
“This isn’t amusing! Something very odd is going on here and it doesn’t bode well for us. It’s specifically to tear us apart!”
“I’ll come for you. If I see I’m being sent off on some ship, I’ll find a way to you. Nothing is going to keep me from you, Marie, nothing. I know what I want to be and I know who I love. Can you trust in that?”
She stared at him, drinking him in, terrified it would be the last time she’d lay eyes on his handsome face.
“I…I don’t know…I…just found you. When you’ve been here all along.” She turned to scowl at the floor and kicked a clump of hay. “Bernice is right, I am stupid about some things.”
Edward lifted her chin. “It would be smarter for you, Marie, if you didn’t care for me at all.”
“That’s nonsense—”
“But I’m too selfish to say no.”
He kissed her passionately. Marie cried onto his shoulder. “Let me stay with you in your cottage tonight, they’ll not know, I’ll tell Bernice.”
Edward moaned. “As much as the thought of you lying by my side threatens to undo my wits, we must tread carefully, and I’d like to prove myself a gentleman, I daresay we can’t take these chances. I daresay we ought not even be speaking at present. Let me see if this key is an opportunity or curse. I can use this money to better myself, to return for you the type of man you can be proud of—”
“You are the man I’m proud of and I can’t bear the night away from you.”
“Then look down at me from out your window. The dormer window of my cottage room looks up at yours.” He gestured toward the house. Marie bit her lip. “Go, Marie, before we put our star-crossed situation in any more peril.”
“You…you love me, don’t you?” Marie said, suddenly feeling that none of her adventures, her fine schooling, no ideals or grandstanding or stubborn argument mattered compared to the warmth of his company.
He cupped her face in her hands and stared at her earnestly.
“I love good and true things. I love justice and fair play. I love eloquence and nature’s beauty. And when, on my first day at this estate, I overheard you rail to your father about the importance of the Vote, the inherent social benefit of Central Park, and the blessings of Emancipation, I loved you most of all.”
Marie giggled.
He blushed. “Although to be perfectly honest.… I saw you first, before I heard you, and seeing your face was…truly my…downfall…” his eyes fell upon her lips and moved to kiss her hungrily.
He broke free with a soft groan and turned her away from him and pushed her toward the door.
“Go now, love. Merry Christmas. You are my Christmas present, and my New Year’s resolution. Hold me in your heart.”
Marie turned to him at the door; she placed a shaking hand to indicate her heart. “I’ve had no one else here. No one else could fill the void I never knew existed until I now face losing you.”
Edward looked down.
“I’ll see you soon,” he said. But neither of them knew what the morning would bring.
Marie walked away. The last thing she heard was Edward talking to Fred and Fran, putting on a jovial show about how glad he’d be to be rid of their stubborn ways. But his voice broke mid sentence and Marie felt the cold air freeze her tears as she stepped into the snow.
Chapter Six
She was first aware of her throbbing neck, prickling hands and stiff body, having fallen asleep upon her arms against the windowsill.
The sound of a carriage in the drive jolted her to her feet.
She watched as Edward stuck his head out the window, waving up to her, emphatically. A smile on his face, but a goodbye. She hadn’t been able to say it in person. To kiss him and cry for him… She flung open the window, snow melting on her outstretched hands, her throat clogged with the million things she wanted to say to the man she’d known for some time and only loved for days.
She could say nothing.
Or she could fight.
Marie darted into the parlor where her mother sat at her writing desk.
“Yes, darling? And what, it would seem, has you in a fit today?”
“Mother I simply don’t understand. How could you let Edward Forest go?” Marie blurted. “What is going on? What did he do to deserve being fired?”
“Fired? He wasn’t fired. He’s been sent away.”
“To where, Mother, being sent to where? He doesn’t even know. He’s—” Marie had to stop herself before she said something foolish. She couldn’t betray her feelings. “I mean, what will we do without him? He’s the best hand with horses a family could wish for! Aren’t horses the most…expensive and valuable of our assets? Shouldn’t Edward be considered so?” Her mind was whirling and she wanted nothing more than to resume the crying that had ushered her to sleep, staring down at his little cottage where he’d lit a candle in the window.
The thought of Edward not being in those stables, the thought of not seeing him every day was the worst fate she had yet imagined and it was taking the breath quite out of her.
She snapped out of her morbid gloom to find that her mother was watching her with bemused scrutiny. Marie scowled.
Mother’s thin lips twitched with an amusement that annoyed Marie greatly. “You claim you hate the machinations of a parent.”
Marie blinked. “Well, yes, I do. I’m my own woman, I have a mind of my own, a will of my own-”
“Let me ask you something. How do you know what you know?”
Marie blinked again. What maddening political tack was this?
“What on earth—Well…school.”
“And who insisted you go to school?”
Marie thought a moment to her parents’ conversation in her youth. “Well, you did. Father doesn’t waste time in bemoaning my education.”
“And all your interests. All your grand causes. Who put all those tracts where you might find them? Who has carefully and strategically placed you in situations to facilitate you seeing the world? Who encouraged your bosom friendship with Bette, whose parents have a scandalously lax eye on their child?”
Marie stood there a moment. She cocked her head. She’d never taken a moment to think about how relatively easy it had been for Bette and her to bounce about the city. And how plainly she’d found the tracts on unions and poverty, temperance and women’s education, on God-given rights for all peoples, all faiths and for the protection of children. She simply read them, as if it were only natural that they were tucked among her weekly ladies’ journal. But that wasn’t normal at all, she realized, thinking of how many other acquaintances her age were utterly ignorant of the issues that she claimed close to her heart.