Joseph swallowed. “Tessa…there is something you do not know about me.”
She seemed to hesitate. “Yes?”
“When my father was born, he was a slave. His mother was a slave. I have African blood, Tessa.”
Of all the reactions he’d imagined, Joseph had not anticipated this. When he managed to look back at her, Tessa’s eyes were crinkled up, and she was grinning. “You finally told me.”
For a moment, Joseph only blinked at her. At last he realized: “Hélène told you.”
“Yearsago.”
Joseph almost laughed. Of course Hélène had ignored his advice. “Y-You never said anything.”
“Neither did you. I knew you’d tell me when you were ready.”
“It doesn’t bother you?”
“Do you think less ofmebecause my parents are poor?”
“It’s hardly the same.”
“Isn’t it?” She caressed his palm with her thumb, as she’d done at the opera. Then she tugged on his hand again.
Caught in her tide, he washed up the steps of the piazza and into the entry hall. The only sound was the tall case clock, ticking loudly in the darkness. The spiral staircase loomed above them, the familiar become suddenly foreign.
“David?” Joseph whispered to Tessa.
“He blew out his lamp an hour ago. Clare is also asleep. I just gave her to Hannah. She’ll stay with her in the nursery.” Tessa led him to the first step.
Joseph hesitated. He hadn’t expected her to be out of her dress already. “Surely it would be wiser to remain in the parlor…”
“Only if you wish to arouse the suspicions of my neighbors. They are accustomed to me sitting up at night reading or with Clare—but I do it in my bedchamber.”
Joseph gulped and followed her up the stairs. He half expected one of the steps to shriek in accusation beneath his feet; but they were as silent as tombstones. Still he glanced above them in worry, as if he might find David’s young face peering down at them. When he and Tessa reached the second floor, Joseph saw the glow beneath the door of the nursery, nothing more. Her husband’s room was dark.
Tessa led him into her bedchamber, closing the door quietly behind them. Still it clicked with finality. In spite of himself, Joseph’s attention went immediately to the bed. Two pillows lay atop the smooth counterpane, the green brocade bed-curtains drawn open. Across the room, Tessa’s méridienne was emerald too. In vestments, green was the color of ordinary time.Thiswas anything but ordinary.
Tessa closed the inner jalousie shutters of the left-most window. Then she plucked off his hat and set it down next to their lamp, on the table he’d used so many times as an altar. Fortunately the sick call cabinet was shut tight. While he was thinking about the crucifix tucked inside, Joseph realized Tessa had undone the sash of her wrapper and was beginning to undo the buttons.
“Don’t—” He choked on the word.
She peered up at him through her lashes. “I refuse to wear this corset a minute longer.”
Did she think he was made of stone? While Tessa unbuttoned her wrapper, Joseph stared determinedly at their lamp. He’d not yet had a chance to examine the fine French craftsmanship. Above the two burners, the oil reservoir took the shape of a fountain. Two exotic, golden birds perched on its edge. They had crests and luxuriant tails; he thought perhaps they were phoenixes.
Tessa’s voice broke into his thoughts: “I cannot do this by myself. I can either ask Hannah—and probably wake Clare—or…”
She’d peeled off her blue wrapper now. The neckline of her chemise was low, exposing her gorgeous collarbones. This chemise had no buttons, only a delicate line of embroidery just beneath a gathered draw-string. Her corset was quilted white on white, patterned simply but beautifully with flowers. Joseph had seen his mother and sisters’ corsets when they weren’t wearing them; he knew such garments laced down the back. But on the front of this corset, laces fastened together each gusset as well, so that they might be opened. This must be a nursing corset, he realized. The knowledge retarded his lust only briefly.
“Will you help me?”
Slowly, Joseph nodded. Tessa turned her back and motioned first to the draw-string of her petticoat, which covered her corset where it extended below her waist. Joseph tried not to let his hands tremble. He undid the string, and the petticoat slid to the floor, pooling at their feet like a fallen white rose.
There was another petticoat beneath the first, this one of dove-grey and fastened by a single button at the waist. When this too had fallen, Tessa’s legs remained concealed by her chemise, and further obscured by the drawers underneath. Nevertheless, his eyes riveted below the line of her corset, trying shamelessly to discern the shape of her buttocks.
But Tessa twisted her hand behind her to direct him to the end of her corset laces. He undid the knot and tugged the laces through each eyelet. As he learned the rhythm, Joseph pulled faster and faster. The laces made a slight hissing noise till at last he tossed them aside like a snake.
“Thank you!” With a sigh, Tessa withdrew her arms from the straps and discarded the corset onto the nearest piece of furniture. It was her prie-Dieu. As she turned to him, her chemise slipped off one shoulder. At least this distracted him from finding her breasts through the linen. “Youcan’t wish to remain as you are either?” Tessa inquired. “’Tis too warm.”
