CHAPTER 53 - Confession
THE TRUTH SLAMMED INTODale with the power of a cannonball. For the second time in less than an hour, he was stunned to his core. Good god! He had not expected this. And yet, now that she had said it, everything made sense.
He couldn’t think, didn’t know how to react. The only phrase going through his mind was, Eloise likes women?
He felt more than a little sick at the thought. Of course, he knew that some men and women preferred people of their own gender. He even knew a couple of gentlemen of that ilk and some establishments that catered to those desires.
But to the extent that he had ever thought about it, he thought of those people as... not normal, as consumed with unnatural tendencies. He never imagined the issue could hit so close to home. His own beloved wife. His sweet little Ellie, whom he had known his whole life, was...? He couldn’t even think about it. He could hardly reconcile it. Yet the evidence was undeniable.
In some ways, it was worse than it would have been if she had merely been in love with another man. Logically, he understood it didn’t make any difference. His wife was in love with someone else, that was the fact. Whether it was a man or a woman didn’t make the betrayal any more or less. But for some strange reason he couldn’t decipher, it mattered. And it hurt more.
He should say something. The silence had stretched for too long. Eloise regarded him with vulnerability in her eyes, her expression taut, as if braced for his anger, condemnation, disgust even. But when she looked at him like that, he couldn’t bear to hurt her more. So he pushed down his emotions and asked the question that was tormenting him the most.
“Were you disgusted by my touch?”
She lowered her head. “I don’t know if disgust is the right word. I wasn’t repelled by you as a person. As a friend, I found you very appealing. I liked it when you hugged me or held my hand... as long as it was in a non-sexual way. Which wasn’t very often because sexual attraction always colored your feelings after we married. But sex felt... wrong.”
“And it felt right with Ninette?” His voice was strangled. “Were you and her lovers while we were still together? In our house, right under my nose?” He couldn’t even bear to think about it.
“No! I mean, yes. Once. That’s when I found out. But never again. That’s why I had to leave.”
“But was it necessary to run away and let me think you were dead?”
Eloise sighed, remorseful. “Maybe not.” She looked down. “I didn’t plan it that way. Please believe that.” She beseeched. “But then that’s how things happened and I thought... I thought maybe it was for the best. That way, you could be free to find a new wife who could love you and fulfill the duties I could not. And I wouldn’t feel so guilty. I would be free... we would both be free. Don’t you see?”
“And you thought I could simply move on, find another wife, and live contentedly without grief or guilt?”
“I thought you would grieve, of course. But in time, you would heal and find somebody to love. Marry again, have children.”
“Then you underestimated the depth of my feelings for you. It took seven years and a miracle for me to find someone. Even if I had wanted to find a wife; Ninette and your mother blackened my reputation so thoroughly that it would not have been easy. Besides, you forget. With you alive, any marriage I entered would have been invalid. Any children I might have had, illegitimate.”
As he said the words, Dale realized with sudden pain that his marriage to Livvy was indeed invalidated because Eloise lived. He couldn’t wish Eloise dead, but now he understood just how precious Livvy was to him. How much he wanted to be really married to her. He buried that pain for now, for there was something else that needed discussing.
“Speaking of children, on the day of your supposed death, you had told me you were expecting a child. Was that another lie? I must assume it was, because I can’t believe you would be so cruel as to keep my child away from me.”
“Not so much a lie as wishful thinking.” She picked up a porcelain figurine from the table, traced its contours. It was of a mother and child. “I had better explain everything from the beginning.”
“That would be nice, yes,” Dale said sarcastically.
Eloise put down the figurine, and in a small voice, started her tale. “You know how unmarried girls are very sheltered and uninformed about intimate matters.”
He nodded.
“But even in my ignorance I felt like something was wrong with me, that I didn’t feel the way I should. When I told my mother, she put it down to maidenly vapors and told me not to be missish and that all would be alright after I married. She vaguely described the basic act, which seemed very unappealing to me. But again she told me not to worry, that every woman goes through it and it only hurts the first time, after that some even come to enjoy it. But even if I didn’t, I should be able to tolerate it with grace and forbearance. After all, the act was necessary to beget children, and my first and foremost duty as your duchess was to give you an heir. She told me to submit to and trust my husband and everything would be fine.”
“I tried, Will,” she said, finally lifting her tearful eyes to look at him. “I tried to submit, as my mother said. And I did trust you, for I loved you as a friend. But every time you came to me, I felt deeply invaded. And I don’t mean in the physical sense. Honestly, the act wasn’t painful. Instead, I felt thoroughly violated in my soul.”
He winced.
“I am sorry. It wasn’t your fault or anything you were doing or not doing. I realized that very soon. Married ladies are not as sheltered as maidens. They would sometimes talk about the act, and from those conversations, I understood you were a kind and generous lover. Half the women envied me. I should have been able to enjoy it the way other women did. Instead, I found it so distressing, unpalatable, deeply wrong.”
She walked to a vase of flowers in front of the window, picking up a fallen petal and twisting it between her fingers.
“Ninette found me crying once. And I poured my heart out to her. After all, she was the closest person to me. She knew me intimately in her job as my maid, and I felt more comfortable with her than with anybody else. I will spare you the details, but she tried to console me and one thing led to another. Suffice it to say, she made me feel the way I should have felt in your arms.” Her voice had lowered to almost whisper, her gaze far away beyond the window.
