Then he began to move, and his control shattered instantly. He loved her and she was his, and he groaned with delirious pleasure as he thrust into her again andagain.
His mindless abandon had the advantage of swiftness, for he could not have prolonged their coupling even if he tried. After the fiery culmination, he disengaged and lay down beside her, trembling with reaction. He yearned to hold her close and soothe her distress, but hesitated to touch her. “I’m sorry I hurt you,” he panted. “It won’t be this painfulagain.”
“I’m all right, Justin,” she said, voice shaking. “It...wasn’t as bad as Iexpected.”
It was a lie, but a gallant one. No longer able to restrain his impulse to cradle her in his arms, he reached out. If she would let him comfort her, something good would come of this night. But she rolled away into a tight little ball, and his searching fingers found only her tautspine.
The silence that descended was broken by the anguished sound of her muffled sobs. He lay still, drenched with self-loathing at the knowledge that he had found intoxicating pleasure in an act that had distressed her soprofoundly.
After a long, long time, her tears faded and her breathing took on the slow rhythm of sleep. Quietly he slid from the bed and felt his way to the door that led to the sitting room, cracking his shin on a stool ashewent.
A gas lamp burned in the sitting room, and he saw his haunted reflection in a mirror on the far wall. He turned away, unable to bear the sight of his ownmisery.
The suite was the most luxurious in the hotel, though not as richly furnished as the Vangelder houses. A porcelain bowl filled with potpourri sat on a side table. He sifted it through his fingers, and the air filled with a tangyfragrance.
He had reached for heaven and landed in hell. Their disastrous wedding night had not been the result of anything simple, like shyness on her part or ineptness on his part. It had been total rejection. The woman of his dreams couldn’t bear his touch, and there seemed little chance that she would change in thefuture.
Vases of flowers were set all over the room. Some he had ordered, others were courtesy of the hotel, which was embarrassingly grateful to have the Duke and Duchess of Thornborough as guests. He pulled a white rose from an elegant cut-glass vase. It was just starting to open, at the perfect moment when promise metfulfillment.
Inevitably, he thought of Sunny when he had first seen her at Swindon. Exquisite, laughing,withoutflaw.
And now she lay weeping in the next room, her bright gaiety gone. He supposed that part of the blame for that could be laid to a false lover, and part to Augusta, who loved her daughter with utterruthlessness.
But most of the fault was his. By the simple act of wanting to marry her, he might have destroyed her blithe sweetnessforever.
He began plucking out the satiny white petals, letting them drop one by one. She loved him, she loved him not, over and over, like a litany, as the scent of rose waftedaroundhim.
The last petal drifted to the floor. She lovedhimnot.
He lifted the vase and studied the artistry of the cut glass. Then, in one smooth, raging gesture, he hurled it across the room, where it shattered into a thousandpieces.
She lovedhimnot.
Chapter6
Justin glancedout the train window at the rolling English landscape. “We’ll reach Swindon station in about fiveminutes.”
Sunny lifted her hat from the opposite seat and secured it to her coiled hair with a pearl-headed hat pin. Since they were traveling in the luxurious solitude of the Thornborough private car, she had had ample space for herpossessions.
As she prepared for their arrival, she surreptitiously studied her husband. His expression was as impassive as always, even though he was bringing his bride home for the first time. Didn’t he ever feel anything? In three weeks of marriage, he had never been anything but unfailingly polite. Civil. Kind. As remote as if he were on the opposite side of theearth.
Not that she should complain, for his calm detachment had made it possible to reach a modus vivendi very quickly. In public, she took his arm and smiled so that they presented a companionable picture to theworld.
Naturally neither of them ever referred to what happened in the silence of the night. Justin always ordered suites with two bedrooms so they could sleep separately. Every three or four days, with his gaze on the middle distance, he would ask if it was convenient for him tovisither.
She always gave her embarrassed assent, except for once when she had stammered that she was “indisposed.” She would have died of mortification if he had asked what was wrong, but he had obviously understood. Five days passed before he asked again, and by then she was able to give him permissiontocome.
As he had promised, there had been no pain after the first occasion, and soon her fear had gone away. Dutifully she obeyed her mother’s dictum and lay perfectly still while her husband did what husbands did. The marital act took only a few minutes, and he always left directlyafter.
Once or twice, she had felt his fingers brush through her hair before he climbed from the bed. She liked to think that it was a gesture of affection, though perhaps it was mere accident, a result of fumbling inthedark.
But her mother had been right; passive acceptance of her wifely role had won Justin’s respect. Besides treating her with the utmost consideration, he also encouraged her to speak her opinions. That was certainly an unusual sign of respect, as well as a pleasure fewwiveshad.
They discussed a wide variety of topics: British and American politics, art and music, architecture and history. Though Justin was never talkative, his observations were perceptive and he seemed to genuinely enjoy listening to her chatter. Best of all, the conversations were slowly building a rapport between them. It wasn’t love—but perhaps someday itmightbe.
She prayed that that would happen, for living without love was a sadbusiness.
Getting to her feet, she pulled on her sable-lined coat. Though it would warm her on the raw November day, that practical use was secondary. Before they left New York, her mother had emphasized that it was essential to wear her furs as a sign of wealth when she was first introduced to her new home and family. A good thing it wasn’t August. Unable to see all of herself in the mirror, she asked, “Do I look allright?”
