by J. R. Biery
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
All week Henry had been lectured and coached by Calum Douglas. Now that the Lieutenant was back in good health, he seemed to have adopted the approach that Henry was another of his raw recruits, and his mission was to prepare him for battle.
It was partly his own fault, in a moment of despair, Henry had confessed that he had never made Bella happy. He had performed his husbandly duty every Saturday night after his bath. But if it was any more satisfactory for his wife than for him, she never showed it. “We quarreled all the time. One reason I have hesitated to pursue any of the other women on the train, but especially Claire, is that I found marriage to be the most miserable state of life.”
For a single man, Calum Douglas seemed to have an encyclopedic knowledge of women, their anatomy, and what it took to please them. Although their conversations took place at night, after the promenade with the ladies, it was full of such detail that Henry found his ears burning in shame just to hear it.
“I’m not sure whether to believe you or not. I’ve never heard that a woman’s passion is as great as or greater than a man’s. Quite the opposite. My father explained that women didn’t care for the business at all. They wanted children, so they tolerated a man’s attention. When I pointed out that the upstairs maid seemed quite enthusiastic, he laughed at me. ‘Of course, common, vulgar girls like that pretend pleasure, but merely to trap a young fool like yourself.’ He told me to avoid trollops and I always have.”
Calum had stared at the man as though he had two heads. “Have you taken any of my advice at all?”
Henry blushed again. Claire left her gloves and hat behind at Bonnie’s advice. We’ve been holding hands. She has the softest, smallest little hand. It gives me a remarkable feeling when…”
Calum grinned at him, and Henry grew irritated, “Well, if you’re only going to make fun of me.”
“No, not at all, go on. And you’ve kissed?”
“Certainly. Not on the first night, but each night since. Last night she kissed me hello and goodbye. Then we talked, she really is a lively and charming girl. I’ve always admired her beauty and grace, her cheerfulness and her ability to talk to anyone about anything. She is a phenomenal salesgirl.”
“You should get along fine then, but you’re going to have to be bolder tonight. I’m leaving tomorrow back to the post. Tonight I’m going to propose one last time to Bonnie. If you ask Claire, then we can have a double wedding. I’m sure the girls will want to make plans and if Bonnie says yes, I’ll stay another two days, ride into Ogden with you.”
“Ogden?”
“The official name of Junction City, the town where the road forks, one branch to California, the other toward Indian Territory.” In the distance they heard Bonnie’s clarion yell to come eat. “Henry, your only hope is to kiss her with passion, use your tongue if you can, make her excited by your proposal.”
“Easy for you to say. Bonnie kisses you like she’s about to eat a big piece of layer cake. Claire kisses me like I’m family already.”
Calum slapped his back so hard that Henry almost fell out of the wagon. “How did you ever get a woman like Bella to begin with?”
“I had just arrived in New York from Liverpool. I had the money I inherited from my Father’s estate and I planned to start a business. But the property was more expensive than I had expected and I needed to raise more. I took a job as a teller at the bank where I deposited my funds.”
“Bella’s Father’s bank?”
“Yes, well we got along, he saw me as an up and coming young man with excellent prospects. So he invited me home to dinner,”
“And introduced you to his daughter? How old were you?”
They had stopped at the edge of the wagon, watching the other’s fill plates and settle in their usual places. Henry finished the story in whispers. “Twenty, but my father was a haberdasher on Seville Row, so I had a great deal of skill and experience in the business already.”
“I suppose there was a lot of hand-holding and kissing preceding the proposal.”
Henry realized the man was teasing him and smiled. “Her father told me he would be happy for his daughter to settle down with such a dependable young man and offered me a sizeable dowry. He also had a friend who had a wonderful property for sale in Boston and he helped to arrange a favorable price.”
“You were quickly married by a priest,” Calum said.
“By a rabbi. Then our honeymoon was on the boat ride to Boston.”
“Paid for by your father-in-law?” Calum whispered, tilting his head to whisper into the ear of the young man.
“A gift from my mother-in-law, using her personal funds. They both were keen for us to wed,” Henry whispered over his shoulder.
The men moved up to receive their plate of beans and cornbread. The girls serving them giggled and then filled their own plates. It was not until they returned to the wagon without their excited sweethearts, that Calum put a hand on Henry’s back. “When did you figure out you had been bamboozled?”
Henry’s mouth twisted in disgust. “I knew a little, had read about it and heard men talking in the shop. When we finished the act she looked at my face and could tell I knew. Then she told me she had been married, had a son who was in hospital, and that she was now divorced.
The men lifted up to sit on the tailgate. “It’s not as though it were a love match.” Henry added. “We barely knew each other. If I were honest, I had been bought for her by her parents. They set me up in business and I served to repair her reputation and standing. But there is something distasteful about that sort of arrangement, which we suddenly had to face.”
“Marriages have taken place for far worse reasons. Many of them are happy.”
“Ours wasn’t. I mean I continued to fulfill my part of the obligation. I treated her with courtesy and kindness. We made love once a week.” Henry stared at Calum, trying to read condemnation in his eyes. “She would fly at me, like a harpy, nagging about this and that, always belittling me. Then when Claire and Bonnie came to work for us, she would have jealous fits.
Henry swung his legs back and forth underneath the gate, so that they tapped rhythmically against the wagon. “Then her father went broke and started nagging us to repay the loan. It wasn’t a loan. I mean, he gave me the amount as her dowry. Then he sent her Barney. They couldn’t afford to pay the hospital for his continued care. You met the boy?”
“When I brought Bonnie back from the training garrison.”
“I miss him. He really brought out a different side of Bella. She was a new person, kinder, more human. I thought maybe our marriage would last. Then when we visited her parents, she gave them half the money from the sale of the business in Boston. To be honest, most of the time, I hated her.” Henry rolled his eyes and Calum nodded.
“I didn’t want her to die. That was horrible. Then the boy died. He placed his hands over his eyes, then rubbed his hand across his face. “I probably never thanked you for taking him back to bury with her. That meant so much to me, knowing they are always together.”
Calum cleared his throat. “Enough of the past. The Wimberley’s have given us their blessing. Are you ready for tonight? Do you remember all I’ve told you to do?”
Henry swung down and stood to look up at him. “You weren’t kidding about all that?”
Calum dropped down and grinned at him. “You sir, are about to get your first education about love. You may know about marriage, and the mechanics, but holding, kissing, touching someone you love who loves you, it’s a whole new experience. Are you ready?”
Henry ran his fingers through his hair as he pushed it back from his face. He rubbed his clean-shaven face and brushed his mustache smooth, making blowing noises through his lips to blow the hairs back into place. “No, but let’s go.”
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It had taken forever for the other suitors to leave. There was something about two women who were looking their best and bubbling with excitement. They were
lucky every man in the wagon trains didn’t show up.
The men’s excuse was that they had been practicing and wanted to play a tune for Claire. Annoyed, Calum and Henry had left to finish their talk while the others listened to James and George tuning a fiddle and blowing a wet harmonica. As they played, both dogs set up a howl.
Mother Wimberley raised her hands over her ears and Bonnie laughed. Ian and Shawn stood up and challenged the pair to play Barbara Allen. Vexed, the displaced suitors had to listen while the soldiers sang the sweetest song in their lilting tenors. Even the cattle mooed in satisfaction and the travelers in the circled wagons stopped their children playing so all could listen.
Bonnie smiled as she heard Claire loudly protest to Mary Anne. “I’ve never worn hand-me-down clothes or shoes. I certainly don’t want to begin my life in the west with a hand-me-down husband.”
Claire looked over to the wagon to watch Henry puffing angrily on his pipe as he turned to complain some more to Calum. She watched the handsome soldier lean forward and lift his hat for a moment to shield his face as he rolled his eyes in horror.
Bonnie covered her mouth and laughed as she stared at them too. Calum put his hat back into place and grinned at her. Suddenly she blushed and looked at the Wimberleys to see if they had noticed.
Claire was just as excited. She left the little girl with her brothers and crossed over to sit beside Bonnie. “Tell me again about tonight,” she whispered. She knew Calum had talked to her parents and they had given the tall Lieutenant special permission to meet with Bonnie, while she and Henry sat out in the dark with them. Anticipation and dread were making her tremble.
“Calum said it was the way his people courted in the old country. They had a special couch where the man and woman faced in opposite directions with a barrier between them. They would be left alone in the room with the understanding that both pairs of feet had to remain flat on the floor at all times. The chaperone remained outside, listening and peeking beneath the door at the pair of feet.”
“Oh Bonnie, do you think we dare. What if they change their minds about marriage? Won’t we be compromised?”
Bonnie stared at her, made sure where the children were, before whispering. “I’ve been married, trust me, there is no way.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
As soon as the children were in bed, the campfire dead and all the visitors long gone, Calum had Henry help him roll his wagon. Now the two wagons were parked side-by-side. In the dark they had trouble arranging things. The benches were placed between the two wagons at different ends, but sheltered from the eyes of those in the tents or in the distant wagons. Claire knew her parents were awake inside, listening.
The men stood beside them. Claire knew once they were seated between the wagons there would be no turning back. Henry had better propose. Carefully Henry helped Claire climb over the bench and waited while she arranged her skirts before sitting down beside her facing out. Claire giggled nervously and stared into the dark. She could sense the other couple settling into the same arrangement. Both girls were on the inside of the benches completely hidden from anyone, even if there had been more than a sliver of moon in a dark sky.
Claire tried to relax. It was too dark for anyone to see what they were doing. In Bonnie’s brown dress, she could not make her out at all. For a minute, Claire wished she had worn the purple wool, not the mint green. Bonnie would probably be able to watch her all evening.
Calum walked around and whispered something to Henry before passing him a full cup of wine. Humming, he walked back around and took his place beside Bonnie. Claire heard Bonnie’s startled breath and knew her friend would probably be too busy to watch anything. Calum spoke loud enough for the other couple to hear. “We will share a toast to the old country and to the women we love. Drink.”
Claire smelled the sweet wine as Henry raised it to take a timid sip. He held it and repeated, “Drink.” Claire leaned back a little and extended her hand to find the cup. Instead she touched his leg, then the soft wool of his coat. Bolder, hidden by the dark and with the excuse of finding the cup, she raised her hand until she touched his chin. She heard the sharp intake of breath and knew it was Henry. He was just as frightened as she was.
When her fingers found his lip and brushed the soft edge of that little mustache, she wanted to pound her feet quickly on the dirt. Only knowing her parents were listening and could come pouring out of the wagon at any instant kept her still.
Henry captured her hand and brought it to the tin cup. Claire trembled as she let her cool fingers touch his on the handle and let him raise it to her lips. She took a slow sip, savoring it as if she had never tasted wine before.
She moved the cup just a little and he bent to drink again. His face was close to her and Claire leaned toward him like a cat that needed petting, letting her cheek glide against his as he swallowed.
They exchanged lips on the rim and when it was empty, Henry carefully set it on the ground beside the bench. This time when he turned toward her, his mouth found hers. Claire sighed into the kiss. The past week he had kissed her, soft, sweet kisses of hello and goodbye. They were nothing like this. As he opened his mouth on hers, her tongue touched his and the rich taste of the wine and the sweet wild kiss flooded her senses.
Suddenly, she felt light headed. Tightly corseted, she found it more than a little hard to breathe. As she leaned back to gather more air into her lungs, Henry’s strong arms supported her curved back. He turned her across his own body and one of her legs rose to balance her. “No,” she gasped, “I have to keep my feet down.”
“Shh,” he whispered, raising her up just enough to accomplish both feet on the ground. “Let me loosen that demon corset for you. Sit upright.”
“But how…” but he was already undoing buttons down the back of her dress.
Henry sighed, trying to go slow enough not to frighten her. How often the last few weeks had he stared at that long line of tiny buttons and imagined doing just this? Only fantasy he warned himself, but it had not kept him from imagining it. Now, thanks to the bold Lieutenant on the other bench, he was daring to do it. When he was halfway down, Claire managed to reach behind her to still his fingers. In the dark, all he could see were the whites of her eyes as she nodded toward her wagon.
Henry paused and leaned close enough so his lips brushed the tiny shell of her ear. “Three more, please.”
Her hand still held him in its upside down embrace. Swallowing and closing her eyes, she nodded and released him.
As soon as they were undone, he used his open hand to carefully move the fabric apart. Her eyes were wild again, glistening in terror as her heart pounded beneath his hand. Henry stopped the motion, pressed his lips even closer and traced kisses along from her ear to the base of her throat. He felt her chest heave, her breath escape as in a dying sigh.
Moving her so her chest was pressed against his, he managed to use both his hands to pull the dress down to her waist. He was tempted to just settle for touching her breasts through the thin cotton, but her ragged breaths spurred him on. When he finally found the ribbon lacing the front of her corset, he carefully pulled one end and felt the bow escape as trailing ribbons in his hand.
Before she could protest, he resumed their passionate kiss. With each nibble, or a flick of his tongue over hers, he tugged at the corset until it gaped open about her rib cage. He released her mouth, let her take a couple of deep gasping breaths. Pressing her face beneath his chin, he whispered again. “I’m going to remove it.”
Once when he was a boy, he ran to pick up a hummingbird that had flown into the front glass of their store. The rapid beat of Claire’s heart reminded him of holding that tiny living thing in his palm. He had held it there, waiting, until the tiny creature fluttered, struggled, and broke free.
She moved her face, straightened to use both of her hands to tug the last ribbon free and removed it. While he waited, she folded the whale bone reinforced linen and satin garment and held it on her
lap, her chin down, her breath growing even.
Henry reached out and took it from her and laid it on the bench beside him. This time when she returned to his embrace, she lifted her face up to his for more of the mind-numbing kisses. He waited until she pressed her lips to his. Gently he stroked her back, more than aware of the silky skin beneath the thin cotton. With each stroke, he grew bolder, hungrier for the need to caress her. He let his fingers trail wider until they flew up and down the bare skin of her arms.
Intoxicated, unwilling to stop, he pulled his mouth away from her lips to trail kisses down one silky arm to her wrist. He kissed the pulse there and felt her hand rest against his cheek. She lifted the other arm so that the inside flesh pressed his other cheek as she held her arm in the air. He repeated the trail of kisses as she lowered her arm to bring the wrist point to his mouth. When he kissed it and moaned, she cupped his lips moved to lift his head so they were face to face, foreheads touching, nose tips crushed and her lips temptingly out of reach.
Softly she whispered the words to him alone. “More, I need more kisses.”
Henry smiled, drunk with happiness at the foolish words. “Where?” he asked, not surprised to hear the quaver in his own voice. Claire lifted his hand to her neck, to touch the pulse below her ear. Henry obliged, only to have her bend her head and capture him there as she giggled.
“It’s not the right spot,” he growled in her ear.
“Your mustache tickles.”
Henry caught her mouth beneath his own, kissed her fiercely, and then whispered. “Quiet, you don’t want to be caught like this, do you?”
Her silence was answer enough, then her hand pointed to the same spot below the other ear. Next was the little hollow at the base of her throat, which brought a reward of a gasp of pleasure. Collar bones, shoulders, and then Henry shocked them both by slipping his hand inside her chemise to cup her breast.
The quiver was back. This time she pressed tight against him, as though she would bury herself in him. He waited, the bold hand trapped with its warm treasure.
