And even tonight, even now she annoyed him. She was a romantic with her belief in happiness and love. For her even sex was love. She believed there was joy to be found in most of the situations of life.
And yet she had lost a young husband to consumption - a slow and cruel death. Presumably she had loved him. "You ought to be sleeping, not talking philosophy," he said more harshly than he intended. "I may want you again before the night is out." "/You /ought to be sleeping too," she said. "Perhaps /I /will want /you /." He almost laughed aloud. They were back where they had started this night. "Perhaps," he said, "we ought to do our wanting now while we are both wide awake and our sleeping afterward." He spread a hand over the back of her head and drew it downward so that he could kiss her.
She stretched one leg across him until she was straddling him, and then she lowered her head so that he could continue to kiss her.
The novelty had certainly not worn thin yet.
And the night was not half over.
14
HAPPINESS did not always come just in fleeting moments. Sometimes it lingered for a while.
Vanessa had no real illusions, of course. This was not a love match and had never been intended as one. He did not love her and she did not love him - not really anyway.
But she /was /infatuated with him, and surely - and strangely - he was with her.
For now anyway. For a short while even if it did not last.
They were to enjoy that most romantic of all interludes in life - a honeymoon.
They made love more times during those three days and four nights than Vanessa could count. Well, not quite. It was thirteen times in all.
Afterward, she thought that if she had been superstitious, that number might have struck her as ominous. She ought not to have counted.
She had never enjoyed anything more in her life than those thirteen lovemakings. He was beautiful and virile and skilled and thorough.
But it was not just the lovemaking.
They took their meals together and talked while they ate. They talked of books they had read and discovered that they had read very few of the same ones. But that could be rectified. "I will read all the books you have read," she said recklessly, "so that we can discuss them." "I will /not /read everything you have read," he told her. "History was never my favorite subject at school. Instead, you may tell me everything that happened in the past that I need to know." "Oh, goodness," she said, "wherever would I begin?" "At the beginning?" he suggested. "With Adam and Eve?" "I'll start with the Romans in Britain," she said, "since very little is known about the tribes who were here before them. The Romans are fascinating, Elliott. They lived lives that were in many ways more sophisticated and luxurious than ours. And yet we think we live in such an advanced civilization. Did you know, for example, that they knew a way of heating their houses that did not necessitate wood or coal fires in each room?" "I did not," he said.
He listened with apparent interest while she spoke of Roman Britain and how it had influenced the lives of the British even to the present day. "Especially in language," she said. "Do you have any idea how many of our words originated from the Latin?" "Would we be compelled to live in silence if the Romans had not come here, then?" he asked her. "Or, heaven help us, would we all be speaking Welsh or Gaelic?" She laughed. "Language is an ever-growing thing," she said. "English would just have been different without the Romans." She suspected - indeed she /knew/ - that his knowledge of the past was far more extensive than he admitted to. No educated gentleman could possibly know absolutely nothing about the history of his own country and civilization, after all. But she did not care if he was teasing her with his apparent ignorance. History was something of a passion with her, but she could not always find people who were willing to listen.
Besides, it was interesting to know that he /could /tease.
They spent hours of each day out of doors. The weather was not to be resisted. Although it was still only spring, the sun shone, the sky was cloudless, and there was warmth in the air. They could not have asked for better.
They strolled about the lake and never once spotted another soul.
Everyone was indeed respecting their privacy.
They went to the boathouse one day and looked at the boats inside and then took one out onto the water even though it /was /a little chilly out there. Vanessa insisted upon rowing and even got them safely back to shore. But because she had not rowed for years, since she was a girl, in fact, she spent far more time fighting the water and the oars and moving in circles than in skimming gracefully across the lake admiring the view. "An impressive display," her husband commented after their return. "Perhaps next time you will allow /me /to take the oars to see if I can impress you equally." She laughed. "But it was such /fun, /Elliott, you must confess," she said. "Did you fear for your life?" "I can swim," he told her. "Can you?" "About as well as I can row," she said, and laughed again. "I have always been afraid to put my face under the water." They walked out to the end of the wooden jetty close to the boathouse on another occasion and gazed down into the water at the fish swimming there. He used to dive in as a boy, he told her, and try to catch the fish with his bare hands. "Did you ever succeed?" she asked him. "Never," he admitted. "But I did learn something about expending energy on an impossibility." "That stopped you?" she asked. "No." She remembered the stone he had sent skipping across the lake at Warren Hall the day she proposed marriage to him. She had him demonstrate again now and then tried it herself - without any success at all. He tried to teach her, but she could not perfect the sideways flick of the wrist that was apparently the secret to success. When she tried it, she only succeeded in sending her stone straight up in the air so that they both had to duck in order not to be hit on the head when it descended.
She did a great deal of laughing and then watched him show off with a second demonstration. "Twelve bounces," she said admiringly. "That is a new record." "Think how much easier your task is now than mine," he said. "I have to reach thirteen to beat my record. You have to reach only one to set yours." "I think," she said, "that all I have learned is not to expend energy on an impossibility." She threw one last stone - and it bounced an unmistakable three times. She shrieked with laughter and turned to him in triumph. "Well," he said, his eyebrows raised. "Maybe I should dive in and see if I can catch a fish." One of these days, she decided, she was going to make him smile. She was even going to make him laugh. But it did not matter that he did neither.
He was enjoying himself as much as she was. She was /sure /of it.
This may not be a match made in heaven, and they may never really /love /each other. But there was no reason at all why they should not be happy together. She had promised him happiness and pleasure and comfort, had she not?
On the third day they walked around to the far side of the lake and came upon a sloping bank that was simply covered with daffodils. It had been hidden from sight from the other bank by a band of willow trees that overhung the water. The yellow trumpets nodded and waved in the sunlight and the light breeze. "Oh, look, Elliott!" she cried, as if he could possibly not have noticed. "Just look!" And she went dashing off to run through the daffodils, her arms spread to the sides. She twirled about in the middle of them and lifted her face to the sun. "Have you ever seen anything more beautiful?" she asked, coming to a halt but keeping her arms raised.
He was standing at the edge of the bank, watching her. "Probably," he said. "But I cannot for the moment think what it might have been. I believe you must have had secret knowledge of this place, though, Vanessa, and dressed accordingly. It was very cunning and clever of you." She looked down at herself. She was wearing her lemon-colored dress and pelisse and her straw bonnet. "I thought you would be impressed," she said, smiling brightly at him. "I am." He had come closer while she was looking down. And he kept coming as her smile faded. When he was close enough, he leaned forward and set his lips to hers, and she twined her arms about his neck and kissed him back.