Behind the Raven Mask

by Cherime MacFarlane

Camille was too tired to even consider eating. She asked Tatiana to excuse her to Dmitri when dinnertime came. Her lower back ached and climbing the stairs was an effort. For a moment, she struggled with the fastenings of her dress. Then, with a sigh, ceased bothering and fell onto her bed face down, still clothed.

  She awoke later to find herself undressed and tucked under the covers. Curious as to what had disturbed her, Camille glanced at the nightstand. A tray with a teapot and covered dish sat there. It was the aroma. She was starving and something smelled delicious. Camille sat up and reached for the tray.

  Dmitri chuckled. "So, only food has the power to stir you. All the while I was undressing you, you never moved."

  She smiled at him as she settled the tray on her lap. "What have you brought me? I am famished!"

  "Well Madame," He bowed low over the tray and whipped the silver cover from the dish, "I have here a most excellent omelet. It was browned to a turn in an enormous amount of butter, seasoned with herbs and is accompanied by a roll and fresh jam. Does this meet your most exacting specifications my dear?"

  "Yes. Now please get out of my way, so I may eat it. I will die of hunger if you say one more word."

  With a nod, he stepped back. Camille picked up her fork and took a bite. "Humm." Eyes closed, she savored the food.

  "But dear. It is unnecessary for you to work so hard on the produce. Neither my mother nor Anya ever put in so much effort."

  "I am neither your first wife nor your mother," She grumbled between bites. "I want everything taken care of ensuring we have everything we need for winter."

  Camille broke off a piece of the roll, and slathered jam on it, before popping it into her mouth.

  Dmitri sat on the edge of the bed near her legs. "I am so thankful you are yourself. I loved Anya, but she was a handful. You, my love, are much easier to live with."

  Her meal forgotten, Camille leaned back against the headboard of the bed. "This is the first time you have ever spoken of any discord in your relationship with Anya."

  He looked away from her as he toyed with the coverlet. "I did not mean to be secretive. I loved Anya. When I lost her it caused me to become even more of a "lone wolf" than I was before."

  A little embarrassed, he glanced up at her. Dmitri’s smile was shy. "I have always been reticent. There is an outward Dmitri and another inside, few know. Please try to understand and accept me as I am. I never meant to exclude you; I simply do not always know how to include you."

  Camille picked up the fork. She used it to push bits of food into a small mound. "I have often thought you were upset with me or avoiding me. I have never been sure how you would react to things that take place." Camille looked up, and their eyes met.

  He shook his head once. "I must confess; I have been far angrier at myself these past few months than at you. If I find myself displeased by any actions of yours, I will tell you of my feelings."

  Dmitri took her hand in his. "I will try to discuss it before I lose that infamous temper of mine. Forgive me, Camille, if I have caused you any anxiety, I did not intend to."

  "You are forgiven, cher'." She shook her head. “I am afraid I could forgive you anything."

  He released her, then leaned forward to wrap one dark curl around his fingers. "I shall keep it in mind, moy sladkiy."

  Dmitri turned his head to look at her. As close as they were, his breath was warm on her cheek. She smiled at him for an instant and then looked away. Her stomach growled.

  "Feed the child." He laughed, as he released her hair and rose from the bed. "Eat, before it is too cold to enjoy."

  Dmitri walked to the fireplace and tossed another log on the coals. Camille finished chewing, then sipped at her tea. "I have not heard you play your violin in a long time."

  Her memory of the night she had found him beneath the tree was vivid, but she was careful to keep her tone neutral as she spoke. "As lovely as you play, I would have thought you must practice a great deal."

  "I play. Most of my playing is done in the early morning when I find it difficult to sleep. I go out to the barn to play. There, no one is bothered."

  "Would you play for me? I love music."

  "If you wish." He left her room and returned with the instrument. Dmitri sat down on a stool before the fire. After adjusting the strings and tightening the bow, Dmitri placed the instrument beneath his chin and a sweet melody filled the room.

  Camille ate as she listened. The atmosphere between them was comfortable. Now it seemed they might find their way through the obstacles to become man and wife in the true sense of the term. Contentment in his company filled her.

  She awoke snuggled against Dmitri's long body. Camille thought she should rise and get an early start. Then, realizing every last vegetable and berry was dealt with, she stretched and with a sigh, cuddled closer to Dmitri.

  A door opened and closed again. By the sound of the footsteps, Camille knew it was Anya going down stairs. She had seen little of the girl during the rush to care for the harvest. How had Anya been occupying herself? Camille hoped the child had not been out riding on her own. Stanislaus had worked beside Anton. The boy would not have been available to accompany Anya anywhere. Camille prayed she had obeyed her father.

  She supposed she should have kept a better eye on the child by having her helping in the kitchen. But Anya had a right to a childhood. Camille recalled how hard she and Leontine had worked helping their family to gather what could be harvested in the bayou and on the river. No child should be forced to give up their youth before it was necessary. Still, she should have kept a closer watch on the girl. Heaven only knew what Anya had been up to. Being stepmother to such a willful girl was difficult.

  Now that harvest time was over, she could resume lessons at the school. With Anya attending it would be much easier to supervise her. Camille would make a point of speaking to Anya today about the school. Since it was Friday, she would begin lessons on the following Monday.

  Dmitri tossed back the covers, rose from the bed and padded toward the fireplace. Camille listened to him stir up the fire and throw on fresh wood. As he stepped back into view. Camille watched him through her lashes. After glancing toward the bed, he walked over to the window.

  He walks like a fencing master. Camille thought as she watched the man. His shoulder muscles rippled as he reached up to draw back the curtains. Sunlight flooded the room and outlined his body. Camille studied him intently. His shoulders were broad, back muscles firm beneath the scarred flesh. Dmitri turned to glance in her direction for a moment. Camille pretended to be asleep.

  Her eyes traveled down past the thick patch of red-gold curls on his chest to his flat stomach. An irresistible urge forced her eyes downward. Camille inspected his body in the light. When Dmitri turned away from her, Camille realized she was not ashamed of her actions. She wanted him to return to bed and make love to her. Would it be possible, she wondered, to entice him back to bed without his knowing she had done so?

  In a slow slide, she pushed one bare leg out from beneath the covers as if she were moving in her sleep. Camille uncovered herself to the hip. She watched him covertly until he again glanced her way. On catching sight of her bare flesh over his shoulder, Dmitri turned toward her. Still pretending to be asleep, Camille turned onto her back. The coverlet slid away, and Camille was lying nude on the sheet.

  As he walked back to the bed, Camille trembled. His eagerness touched her before he did. Without a word he lowered himself to the bed beside her.

  Camille could not pretend any longer and she caught his head in her hands. The kiss she gave him developed into something that stole her breath. When she released him, Dmitri's single eye was shining; his lips tilted upward into the twisted smile she loved.

  "How long have you been awake?" Dmitri reached out one finger and traced the outline of her lips.

  "Long enough. I wondered if I could lure you away from the window."

  With his head on one arm, Dmitri reached out to slip his fingers into
the hair at the back of her head. Then he pulled Camille toward him. "Satisfied? You can have anything you wish, using these tactics. What in the wide world would you like, my love?"

  Camille's smile deepened. She ran her fingertips through the hair on his chest. "Promise me a son, husband."

  "Now Madame, how can I do that? We could have a girl, you know."

  She tugged on the hairs she held captive in her fingers. "Then promise me we will continue trying until we get a boy."

  "Ah yes, now that, I can and will do. You have my word on it, dearest."

  He rolled onto his back, slipped on arm under her, and lifted Camille up to lie on top of him. She rubbed her body against his. Dmitri groaned, as his lips met hers.

  Camille marked the day in her memory, as the day she became Dmitri's woman, and his wife. They spent the day, and those that followed, discovering all the things they were both fond of.

  "Have you ever played chess?" Dmitri looked up at her from the pile of papers covering his desk. Camille laid her sewing in her lap.

  "Oh, yes. My father taught both Leontine and me."

  He nodded. "Do you like to play?"

  "Yes cher', I do." Dmitri smiled at her, then returned to the letter he had been writing. A short time later, Camille dropped her sewing, as she watched Dmitri for a moment.

  "Are you fond of cream puffs, Dmitri?"

  He laid down the pen with a smile. "Cream puffs are good, but I like eclairs better. I also like apple pie with sharp cheese and coffee. Of all the American desserts, I think I find it most pleasing to the palate."

  She clapped her hands together in delight. "Oh yes! I agree. What of music? Have you heard the Negroes in New Orleans play? I love their music! It can be so sad, but so rousing, that you cannot hear it and stay still."

  "On a business trip I was there during Mardi Gras. The sights and sounds were fantastic. I heard the drums near the river one night. It was primitive, yet it called to something buried inside. Gypsy music affects me much the same way. That is why most of the violin music I play is of Gypsy origin."

  Dmitri noticed the sad smile which crossed Camille's face. He fell silent for a moment. "Do you want to go back to New Orleans, moy sladkiy? Would you like me to take you there? Perhaps we could go for Mardi Gras next year."

  The moment of homesickness passed. Camille shook her head. "Not then, Dmitri. The baby will not be ready to travel so soon."

  He stared at her for a moment. First he chuckled, then he laughed.

  "Dmitri! What is so amusing?" Camille had never seen him in such boisterous good spirits.

  When he could speak, he rose from the desk, walked over to her and knelt before Camille. Dmitri took her hands in his and kissed them. "I am so happy. Do you know I love you?"

  "Are you certain?" Her smile faded, her eyes searched his face, which was just inches from her own.

  "With all my heart." He was as serious as she.

  "And what of your feelings, Camille? Do you mind being married to a man who is old enough to be your father?"

  Camille placed her right hand over his lips. "I think he is exaggerating the age difference somewhat, but I ...care for him anyway."

  Wearing that crooked smile, Dmitri shook his head in disbelief. "You would not lie to an old man, would you my sweet?"

  She laughed at him. "Certainly not! Neither to an old man, nor to my husband."

  Heedless of her sewing, Dmitri rose and pulled her to her feet. He embraced her and smothered Camille with kisses. She pushed on his chest to put a little distance between then. His arms dropped to his side as she held him away from her with one hand. "Terribly ardent behavior for an old man. Let me catch my breath."

  Then he threw his head back. Dmitri erupted into belly laughs. Camille joined in. Then, he made a lunge in her direction. Camille picked up her skirt and dashed behind the liquor table. Dmitri made a feint to the left and caught her around the waist when she dodged to the right.

  Giggling nonstop, Camille collapsed against him. With her cheek against his chest, Camille felt the laughter rumble through him. Dmitri flopped backward into a chair pulling her down into his lap as he did so. Camille tucked her head beneath his chin, and Dmitri hugged her to his chest. They sat snuggled together in the chair until Tatiana called them for dinner.

  ***

  Anya excused herself before dessert was served. She had had enough. Her father and Camille were behaving as if they were the only two people on earth. It was disgusting. How long would they continue to behave so badly?

  She tried to lose herself in a book in an effort to forget their absurd behavior. It did not work. The book bored her. If only Ooskada would return! He would pay her some attention. Anya threw down the book, blew out the lamp and scrambled into bed. She might as well go to sleep. It was doubtful her father would remember her existence long enough to say good night.

  A while later, Dmitri and Camille opened Anya's door. Her light was out, and the girl's deep, even breathing was the only sound. Dmitri closed the door. They had wanted to tell her about the picnic they planned for the following day.

  "It will keep until morning," Dmitri whispered.

  Camille opened the door to Dmitri's room, and he followed her in. They had no wish to sleep apart again.

  Anya’s face glowed with the smile that lifted her lips and changed her from a petulant brat to a pretty child. Camille could not help smiling herself. The outing promised to provide the lift everyone needed after all the hard work was over.

  The party that boarded the Arctic Tern numbered eight. Alexis and Dmitri sailed to the other side of the Island to a sheltered cove, where they anchored a short distance off shore.

  Camille watched from the dinghy as Dmitri eyed it from the deck. With the baskets, lap robes and people, it contained a full load. With both hands on his hips, he took a step backward.

  "Come on, Dmitri!" Alexis called out. "There is enough room."

  His glance took in the lowered free board of the boat. "I think not, Alexis. Wait a moment."

  A wave moved the small boat away from the side of the schooner. They were broadside to the Arctic Tern as they waited for Dmitri to join them. But he turned and vanished down the hatch. Camille wondered what on earth he was doing now. Everyone waited on him.

  But it was a lovely day. Dmitri had said earlier a friend of his from the Northeast called it “Indian Summer”. The sky was a beautiful blue and there was heat in the sun.

  Dmitri returned with a bundle, leaned over and tossed it to Gregor. "Now, do not let those get wet. Go along with you!"

  Alexis waved a salute. "I will return for you in a moment."

  Dmitri grinned at his friend. "No need."

  Alexis returned the grin and nodded in comprehension. Camille looked at both of them, trying to understand what had just passed between the two men. They had been friends for so long; they often communicated in abbreviated sentences; each knew what the other meant without all the words being exchanged. Camille found it frustrating at times.

  Dmitri was up to something and Alexis knew what. Alexis and Gregor spun the little craft so their backs were to the shore and bent to the oars. When they were a short distance from the ship, Camille looked back over her shoulder at the Arctic Tern in time to see Dmitri dive into the water. She watched in admiration as he swam toward the dinghy. Dmitri dove under the water and came up alongside them.

  With a laugh, he flicked water from his fingers at Camille. Then he took a deep breath and dove under again. With a kick from his powerful legs, he was gone once more. With one hand she brushed the drops of water from her face and watched as he rose from the ocean near the beach.

  Dmitri walked from the water onto the shore with his back to her and the others in the dinghy. He was almost nude, having only his underwear on. The wet material left little to her imagination. Dmitri turned to wave at them, being careful to keep his back to them before walking around a large boulder on the shoreline that hid him from view.

  Th
e rowboat grounded on the small strip of sand and Alexis held it steady while Gregor helped both women from the boat. When Anya would have run to find her father, Camille stopped her, explaining he must dress first. Helena put the child to work helping unload the picnic things.

  Camille took the bundle he had made with her as she went to find her husband behind the boulder. Head pillowed on his hands, Dmitri lay in the shelter of the rock on his stomach. He had removed the damp undergarment any lay there nude.

  She grinned at the sight of her husband lying there on the ground. The scars no longer bothered her, they were a part of him. The broad shoulders tapered down into narrow hips and muscular legs.

  Dropping to her knees beside him, Camille whispered his name. Was he so tired that he had dropped off to sleep in the warm sun? From the thick hair at the nape of his neck, Camille traced the line of his spine. Her fingertips skimmed over the scars and pressed a little harder as she moved her hand down to the hollow just above his buttocks.

  Then he moved so fast she had no time to get away. In a flurry of cloth and flying sand, Camille found herself on her back beneath him. "Not in broad daylight, with everyone watching!" Camille cried out in indignation.

  Amused, Dmitri reached a hand under her skirt to tickle her on the upper thigh. "Why not?" Dmitri brushed his lips across hers, then sucked on her lower lip. "No one can see us, nor will they come looking."

  Camille shook her head without speaking. He was so sure of his position here; utterly confident! He mistook her silence for acquiescence and kissed her again. His tongue now insisted on probing the sweetness of her mouth.

  All the noise and laughter on the far side of the boulder faded away. Desire stirred in Camille. She wanted him to lift her skirt, to make love to her in the warmth of the sun. When he moved away from her, Camille wrapped her arms around his neck, lifted her head and kissed him on the nose.

  "We, you, cannot ignore Anya. Today is her day. She needs you as much as I. You have been neglectful of late. She is the reason for this expedition, remember?"