In the Forest of the Night & The Barmaid and the Blacksmith

by Lizbeth Dusseau

  I couldn’t think of anything that would put me in a positive light, that was also honest. A lie would only compound my problem. “What did Phillipe tell you?” I asked.

  “I want the answer from you,” he said. His rage did not stop, not for a second. Pouring at me with such vociferous power, it had me feeling pinned against the wall, even though I was just sitting primly on Melanie’s library sofa.

  “Please sit, my love,” I said, patting the spot next to mine.

  “I want an answer.”

  “Adrian, I won’t answer you while you’re hovering over me like an enraged beast. There’s nothing, even this, that we can’t discuss calmly.”

  He glared at me, but then consented to my request, and sat himself on the other end of the sofa, as far as away as he could get.

  “At Meg’s, before you came, I was vulnerable to the man. Hoping for you yes, and even disappointed that you weren’t there when I first arrived. I must confess, we flirted and I encouraged that. It seemed innocent enough, though it wasn’t enough for Phillipe. I don’t mean to put this all on him. I take complete responsibility for the outcome. But it wasn’t something that I ever initiated. Still, Phillipe Gordot did slip his way, unannounced, into my bedroom, and then slipped into my bed. I was so shocked by it, and shocked by my own response. My passions being what they are, I didn’t throw him out. We made love. But you have to believe me, Adrian, it was not because I invited him. It was foolish, I know. But that is the truth.”

  “And it was not just one time,” he said.

  “He must have told you quite a lot.”

  “It doesn’t matter what he told me, I want the honest answer.”

  “I was with him several times, and yes once after you arrived at Meg’s. At first, I thought he was really sincere in his affections. The way he talked. He beguiled me with that French charm. I was confused by love. And I swear, I locked my door when it was clear that he wanted nothing but sex. That all his sweet talk was just to get under my skirt. But then, one night after you arrived, he came in again, finding my door open. It was completely unintentional, I thought by then he had the message and wouldn’t be trying it again.”

  “And you didn’t have the will to ward him off, even then?”

  “No,” I admitted. This time I bowed by head, I couldn’t feel proud with this admission. “I hated myself afterwards, I swear. And I would have told you already, but then, we swore these things didn’t matter to us. The past was the past. You didn’t want to hear of mine, and you told me not to ask of yours.”

  He was silent for some time. I wondered what he was thinking, and it was impossible to tell from his face. There was certainly hurt there, as well as the anger, though that had diminished. I couldn’t stand the silence.

  “Adrian, you have to know why Monsieur Gordot is doing this.”

  He eyed me wordlessly, waiting for my explanation.

  “He called on me while you were gone. After coming to our engagement party, Phillipe was perfectly willing to have me in bed again. He came right to this house, and in Melanie’s parlor insinuated that I should give in to him again. Can you believe that! But I rebuffed him, and now this is his revenge.”

  “He tried to have you while I was gone?” It was as difficult for him to believe it as it was for me.

  “He did. I was afraid he was this contemptible, but I never believed he’d actually act on his threats. Oh, they were couched in sweet talk. Adrian, I am very sorry for this, I really am. If I could take it back, I would. If I could take your hurt away, I would. Please, please tell me what I can do to mend this horror?”

  He was so cold and unfeeling, unlike the man I knew.

  “I don’t think there’s any way to mend this, Isabella. You have no idea how devastating it is. Out of the blue, to discover this about the person I love so dearly. There, right in the club, hearing these things whispered about. I had to confront the man, to get him to stop, but by then his damage had been done.”

  “And what damage is that?” I asked.

  “You don’t how far the man’s influence reaches, Isabella. His family is well connected with mine. There’s no way that I’ll keep this from my family. I had to whisk my father away from the club tonight, just to keep him in the dark. But that won’t last even a day.”

  “Perhaps your parents would believe you, over Phillipe?”

  “I won’t lie to them,” he said.

  “But certainly there will be some way to explain.”

  “Explain what? As a man, my dalliances are expected. As a woman, yours are not. I haven’t cared, I’ve pleasured in you as you well know. But my family will not regard you well.”

  “I am not marrying your family, Adrian. I am engaged to you,” I reminded him. “That is, unless you’re planning to break that off?”

  He said nothing, so remote, so sullen. Damn I hated that!

  “I can’t say what I want to do, Isabella,” he said.

  I wasn’t particularly relieved.

  “Perhaps we should break off the engagement. I don’t want to cause you pain with your family. I make no excuses for the woman I am. You said you accepted it once, but apparently you haven’t thought it through completely.”

  I was in the process of removing the engagement ring from my finger, but he covered my hand.

  “No, please, Isabella. Let me think, my love, let me think.” He was distracted by all his incessant thinking.

  Leaving me sitting on the Melanie’s sofa he walked out of the room in a daze. He left me in one as clouded and vague.

  And now, for the second time in my life, my indiscretions had sent a miserable wrath on me. Though for all my mind’s inner workings, I couldn’t think of one thing I’d done wrong. Not one thing, except live my passion in the most honest way I knew how.

  ***

  I packed my bags the next afternoon. I knew that staying in London would only be throwing the hard reality of me in Adrian’s face hour by hour.

  He wouldn’t have me in his flat again. He wouldn’t dare risk any more embarrassment. And he was not so modern a man to shun convention and turn his back on his parents’ value and honor. I’m sure if it had been me with parents hovering over me, I might have had the same reservations. But with just a forbidding uncle, without any affectionate nurturing from the people that gave me life, I wasn’t like everyone else I knew. Perhaps accepting my differences was an important part of my life. I could easier see myself an unwed bohemian of another culture, than I could following in Melanie Abbot’s or Meg Stewart’s footsteps in marriage. Perhaps one day I’d thank Phillipe for his incessant, though destructive reminders of my libertine inclinations.

  “You can’t go,” Melanie told me for the hundredth time.

  “I can and I will,” I vowed. “I have a strong feeling about this, Mel. It isn’t just an issue of carnal indiscretion, it’s an issue about my life, and what it means.”

  She cocked her head as if she was completely bewildered by the comment, and looked for some explanation.

  “Adrian Mannerly and I, married. It’s a pipe dream fantasy. It’s a fairy tale. I used to read them in my room at my uncle’s estate, and dream about being some princess with a prince charming. That was Adrian, so tall and blonde and gorgeous to look at. And so successful. He’s going to go far in his business, I can see that. Such spark and fire too.”

  “You love him, Isabella.”

  “I do that, but I also loved the life he promised me, the idea of that. The fact that it meant escape from the dreadful weariness of the country life. I didn’t have a perfect upbringing. There was a lot of loneliness, you can see why I’d want to have a life that looked like perfection. But the truth is, it’s not perfect, Melanie. It’s grossly flawed. What Adrian told me yesterday was the truth. He told me what really mattered, what would always matter to him: the position, the opinion of others, the good rapport with his parents, even though he sometimes despises them. That’s important him, as much as I’m important to him. He’s
no different from most other men of his station.”

  “He was foolish, yesterday,” Melanie said. “He’ll forgive you and want you back. I know that. I know him. He has such a kind heart.”

  “But it can’t be the same,” I said, shaking my head.

  “That’s just your pride talking.”

  “I have no pride, just lust,” I retorted.

  “You don’t mean that.”

  “Maybe not. But I know it would be better for me to leave London for a while. Let this mess get settled with Adrian. If I’m here, I’ll just be another worry. Maybe when I’m gone, he’ll look at it differently. Maybe my flaws won’t seem so apparent; and the world he’s so worried about will brush it all aside, and go on to other things. Or maybe, he’ll decide that we can’t be married. That would be okay too. I do know, we need this distance, and a little time.”

  Melanie was unrelenting in her opinion, the kind of woman never to back down from a good confrontation. But I was different, and she’d have to accept that. I didn’t want there to be battles in my life. I wanted peace, the peace of a fine lover, and a life of some substance and tenderness. No, I was not one for making the pain in my life more wretched, by trying to fight against it.

  Richard and Melanie took me to the train station the next morning, early. Richard was stiff and formal, quite ready to have me leave. The news of my embarrassing behavior had already filtered through to him, and I could see the judgment in his eyes. I didn’t need to see any of Adrian’s other friends, Richard’s gaze was all I required to know that I was definitely a labeled woman. Perhaps woman like me were no longer ostracized the way they might once have been; but even in the modern 20’s in England, sexual discretion counted for something, and my bawdy background could never be excused, especially by the people that mattered most to Adrian. Without Phillipe’s insinuations, I might have gotten by; but it was a mistake to think that I could, now that my true character had been exposed.

  Chapter Eleven

  When I returned to my uncle’s estate, I took my familiar room. I remained mum about by sudden return, and Uncle Andrew didn’t bother to ask. I thought he was simply being sensitive to my need for privacy. I knew eventually I needed to explain my hasty change in plans. But that explanation happened sooner than I anticipated. Not mine to control, my uncle confronted me after I’d been back just a couple of days.

  We were sitting down to dinner, halfway through the meal, when he cleared his throat of the chowder, and looked directly in my eye.

  “I’ve made some inquiries, Isabella,” he said.

  “About what?”

  “About your deportment in London.”

  “Oh? Whatever for.”

  “I was surprised by your return. Your last letter had been so filled with stories of your engagement, and then to suddenly appear on my doorstep, sullen and with no explanations.”

  As usual, my uncle was going in circles around the subject. This roundabout way of getting to his point was annoying.

  “I’m aware of why you left London so abruptly.”

  “And why’s that?” I said, staring him directly in the eye, when he suddenly wanted to avert my gaze. If he was going to say it, he’d have to spell out my crimes.

  He took a deep breath and cleared his throat again. “It seems you can’t keep yourself from gentlemen’s bedrooms. There are rude stories of your unladylike behavior that had become the talk of London. Frankly, I’m shocked, especially after the unwholesome scene months ago. I thought you’d learned your lesson. Apparently not!”

  He was becoming more indignant the more he spoke, a distinct flash of anger appearing in his flat gray eyes.

  “I assure you such a character flaw in a woman will warrant you a good deal of pain.” He sat back in his chair, trying to reign in feelings that threatened to explode. Such simmering on the surface, such intent to suppress the rage that was burning in his old world thinking. But rather than reducing me to some sniveling penitent, I was resentful of his speech.

  “Strange that anything so lovely as sex has to be spurned the way it is,” I replied. I was keeping my head about me, replying to him haughtily.

  “You continue to shock me, Isabella. That you first consort with Mr. Sage, and then right under your Aunt’s eyes at the Stewert estate with some Frenchman, and then god knows who. I don’t doubt you’ve teased that poor fiancé to bed with you.”

  “I guess you heard it all, didn’t you? And I guess you distrusted me from the beginning to have made these inquiries.”

  “I was suspicious. But now what concerns me most is what you plan to do with your life, now that you’ve so thoroughly shamed yourself, and me.”

  “I returned here to give it some thought, Uncle Andrew.”

  “I see. Well, I have my ideas too, my dear.” It appeared the anger in him had been duly squelched, and he resumed a typically arrogant tone.

  “Oh?”

  “I wonder, since you obviously won’t be marrying soon, if it would be better for you to consider a position of employment? Something substantive to occupy your time.”

  The thought hadn’t really crossed my mind, but bringing it up, I wondered if my uncle might not have a valid point.

  “I know you’ll be bored here with me,” he continued. “And since we obviously don’t see eye to eye on important matters, I’m not sure that I could continue to keep you here in my house, knowing your penchant for such a loose lifestyle.”

  I was rather stunned. My uncle was far more forward than I ever imagined him to be. Even though he was couching his words in the best possible language, his meaning was perfectly clear.

  “I’m sorry I’ve disgraced you, Uncle. You can be sure that I never intended to bring any bad light to your honor. Knowing now that you feel this way, I wouldn’t even think of remaining here with you.”

  He nodded. Obviously my agreement was important to him. He looked relieved.

  “I’ve looked into a few things, likely positions. A hotel boarding house in seaside village needs a pair of useful hands. Lively town, you should enjoy living there, I would think. There are others, though this one seems the most likely and suitable. I’ll see that you’re fairly taken care of, your mother would want nothing less. I’m sorry that it has come to this, Isabella, but surely you see my position.”

  I did. Narrow-minded, judgmental, and boorish, though I expected nothing less from him.

  Chapter Twelve

  It had been some time since I’d walked the grounds of my uncle’s estate. As I was making my way out beyond the vast lawns, I remembered it for the calming effect that it always had on me. Then too, I’d met William Sage while on one excursion. I’d delved into my first lusty encounters with sex. I’d enjoyed natural passions that I derived from the natural wilds of this lovely place. Despite the heaviness I was carrying with me, just being in the midst of this other savage side of the estate, I was heartened. Fresh air, sunshine, and feeling the very earth trembling at my feet with its teaming sensuality made me bold enough to venture toward the glade I loved so well.

  I didn’t go there with the thought of lying naked, or pleasuring myself as I had before, but simply with the thought of remembering what had been good about my uncle’s home. It was also a farewell journey. I doubted that I’d have the opportunity to be in this place again.

  Reaching the babbling stream, and the path I remembered well, I was practically skipping along the trail. Excitement leapt into my loins; so much so that I thought perhaps I’d find Will Sage right there, where I’d first met him, when he took me off guard staring at me. Increasing my speed down the path, I was even jogging, I was so flushed with excitement. To my disappointment however, reaching the opening in the forest, I found myself alone. There was no William Sage, except the picture of him in my head. He was my finest lover. I knew that, not because he was the one least painful to remember, but because he simply was. Unlike Phillipe, he cared about me deeply. Unlike Adrian, he wasn’t fraught with the damaging attitude
s about life that had ripped our relationship apart.

  I wished I could lay my eyes on him again, his slightly greying hair, the ruffled woodsman look, the staunch aspect and the abiding firmness that he generated to me. And that manly body, rich muscles, the fine form of his chest and thighs, and that dear, dear robust penis that sprung to life to please me so easily.

  I sat on the flat rock, my knees drawn into my chest, I hugged them to me and stared out on the gently moving stream, thinking of the picture of him, and relishing every detail that came to mind. The insects buzzed around me and there was a welcome warmth in the air, and of course the sunshine. I closed my eyes imagining William at my shoulder, his hand touching me there, running it along my back, down my spine, until he could fondle my bottom below.

  I hadn’t wanted to feel sexual here, but I couldn’t help it. Perhaps this place was synonymous with sensuality, and it was impossible to fight the feelings that this wild earth raised in me. Pulling up on my skirt, I sat with my naked thighs pressed against the stone. It felt natural to squirm against the hard rock. There was just the thin silk of my panties between me and the smooth surface. What a odd lover that stone became. The more I squirmed, the more it seemed to reply back, if in fact cold stone could do anything so animated.

  The more I squirmed, the more it raised my body heat. It was like an obsession taking over, an old friend come back to love me, or haunt me as the case may be. I chose to love it, even if it was only for a minute. With thoughts of William pushing out all others. I let go my knees, and opened my legs wide, my hand making its way to my sex. The silk panties were damp, and when a finger skirted the lace edge, I could feel the damp opening of my vagina. I was swooning as if it was my first discovery of that forbidden territory.

  Boldly raising my skirt higher, it almost seemed more indecent this way, than when I deliberately came to bare myself naked to the world. Drawing down my underwear, I slipped it off altogether so I could have free reign on my interior. To make myself more accessible still, I scooted back on the rock, to where another rock made a chair, and I could recline back against it, with my legs spread, my privates exposed to the sunshine, and my hand finding it easy to continue its play.