Simon moved forcefully, passionate, greedy for her, but he never forgot Sylvie’s pleasure. He knew how to use his fingers and tongue to bring her to abandon, and only when she was verging on climax would he enter her (and always with a condom), pushing impossibly slowly, sometimes stopping until she pressed her hips down to feel all of him inside her. She felt feverish with desire. Sylvie barely recognized herself, and in the best twist of fate, she wasn’t ashamed. She wanted Simon and she took him. Afterward, they tossed the bedding aside, breathing heavily, skin cooling, Sylvie lying open but unafraid—a miracle.
“I love you,” she said. Simon wrapped around her, and they fell, again, into heavy slumber.
After her nap and a soak in the suite’s Italian Arabescato marble tub, Sylvie put on her robe and found a room-service spread in the living room: scones, tiny glass jars of jam, pastries, eggs, bacon, fresh juice, pots of coffee, and a pitcher of cream.
“Tell me everything about our wedding weekend again,” said Sylvie, accepting a China cup of coffee and a saucer, sitting cross-legged next to Simon in front of a fireplace. She tossed off the hotel slippers and held her feet toward the warm fire.
“So as your family arrives, Nolan will meet them outside Baggage Claim.”
“With the sign,” Sylvie said with a sigh, “like my sign, with my name.”
“Correct. And their luggage will go straight to the castle.”
“I’ve read about rich-people vacations like these in Agatha Christie mysteries,” said Sylvie. “And she really stayed here?”
“Not in this suite, but yes, she used to write here, and meet friends for tea.”
“I have to tell you something, Simon.”
“Go on.”
Sylvie selected a scone, broke it apart with her hands, then spread clotted cream and rhubarb-ginger jam. She took a bite. “I’ve never readThe Jungle Book,” she confessed. “But I have seen the movie! And I’ve read every Agatha Christie.”
“Of course,” said Simon. “And it’s OK about the Kipling.”
“Phew.”
“So as your family arrives, Nolan takes their luggage and puts them in a taxi to the train station.”
“It’s like my sisters are Ripley in Highsmith’s novels! But hopefully no one disappears, gets poisoned, or has a mental breakdown.”
“No one will disappear or get poisoned,” said Simon.
“My mom is in a constant state of mental…I don’t want to saybreakdown,” said Sylvie. The topic of her mother was painful. Sometimes, Sylvie saw her mother as the girl Donna had been,abandoned by her parents. Sylvie had a picture of Donna at age six, bereft. She would never be adopted, never chosen; she would grow up in a Missoula orphanage for girls.
But other times, Sylvie knew that her mother caused her and her sisters real pain, regardless of what she, Donna, had survived. Donna was a selfish and cruel person—maybe Donna’s own mother had been the same.
“Why did you invite your mom?” said Simon.
Sylvie considered his question, which was a good one. “Yearning,” she concluded. It was one word, but said so much. She yearned for Donna to be someone Donna was incapable of being. Sylvie still yearned for a mother: She hoped to be seen and loved, embraced. She also knew that Donna had lost these capabilities long before she ever had her daughters.
“I get it,” said Simon. He put down his teacup and pulled her close. Sylvie rested her cheek on his chest, kissed the skin there.
“Tell me about the train,” she said.
“It was built in the 1920s,” he said. “A seven-car, luxury Pullman train, the one used by Queen Elizabeth. Wait until you see how they’ve restored them—vintage lighting, silk upholstery. We’ll have a fancy lunch and sleep in cozy bunks and by morning, we’ll be in Mumberton. But I want to take you to Harrods before we head to the station,” said Simon.
“Where your grandmother bought the bears,” said Sylvie.
“Regrettably, yes,” said Simon. He had told Sylvie about the castle’s Asiatic black bears that had been purchased at Harrods in London, which had once contained a department called “Pet Kingdom.” Pet Kingdom sold lions, alligators, elephants, and bears. In the year Simon was born, the last bears at Mumberton Castle—sisters Pearl and Ruby and Pearl’s daughter, Zinnia—were sold to Dudley Zoo.
“I want to get your sisters peacock feather fascinators,” said Simon.
“Emma will love that,” said Sylvie. “Cleo, who knows?”
“And I have a surprise,” said Simon.
“Tell me.”
