His mouth crushed hers in a kiss that sent excitement crashing through her, and all rational thought dissolved in a deluge of ecstasy. He took her with devouring passion, allowing no respite, no relief, thrusting into her as if his hunger would never be sated. His mouth played ceaselessly on hers, smothering her gasps into barely audible sounds. She relinquished herself to his possession, finally understanding how incomplete she was without him. Deliberately he urged her into a new plane of sensation, where selfconsciousness was stripped away and she was left undisguised from him. With an incoherent murmur she twined her arms around him and matched his fire with her own.
Addie stirred only a little when he left her, too exhausted to take notice of the last kiss, the last caress, before she was alone again. It seemed like only a few minutes had passed before she heard voices downstairs. Daybreak arrived and light splashed through the windows of her room. She buried her head underneath a pillow, groping for a few minutes of sleep, and her body went limp.
She awoke with a strange sense of dread, noticing the light in the room had changed, darker now, tinged instead with smoky blue. Lazily she rolled back, blinking the drowsiness away, stifling a yawn. The sounds of women's voices downstairs had disappeared, as well as the sounds of men working and dogs barking outside. Everything was still. And then she heard the muted chug-chug of an automobile, and tires skimming a paved street.
Addie scrambled out from under the sheets and sat on the edge of the bed, her eyes wide. The bedroom was blue and white. There was an electric lamp in the corner. She stared at the poster on the wall, at Rudolph Valentino's slicked-black hair and smoldering eyes. She felt as if she would suffocate.
"No. No, don't let this be happening to me."
Standing up unsteadily, Addie went to the door and tried to turn the knob. It was Iocked. "Let me out," she said, although there was no one to hear her, and she pulled harder at the doorknob. "Let me out!" Her voice was shrill with panic. "Ben, where are you? Ben! Ben-"
She jerked awake with a muffled sound, her heart pounding high in her throat. Trembling, she looked around at the pink-and-white bedroom and stumbled out of bed, going to the middle of the floor and turning around. It was all here. Her shoulders and spine relaxed. She went to the mirror and looked at her own chalk-white face, at the naked fear that still lingered there. It had only been a dream.
"I belong here," she said out loud, her voice shaking. "I belong here and I won't go back. I won't. " The brown eyes that stared back at her were full of desperation and doubt.
"Ahh… here comes the sleepyhead," Caroline said affectionately as soon as Addie came downstairs. Addie smiled wanly, sitting in her chair at the table. May poured her coffee and fussed over her, and a sense of comfort and ease began to steal over her.
"You did sleep late this mornin'," May said with a smile. "Did you have a good night?"
"I… I… What do you mean?" Addie asked nervously.
"Well, we've spent the last few days at the Fanins'. It certainly is nice to be back in your own bed, isn't it?"
"It's wonderful to be back in mine," Caroline remarked, putting a hand to her back. "Those beds at the Fanins' were so hard. These days I can hardly find a comfortable position to sleep in."
Addie regarded her sympathetically. "Poor Caro. But I al-most envy you, looking forward to having a baby to take care of and love."
"They're somethin' to envy when they belong to someone else," came the wry response. "It's only when you have one of your own that you understand what trouble they are. And this one is givin' me more trouble than Leah did. Or maybe it's just that I'm older. "
"Thirty isn't old at all."
"Tell that to Peter." Caroline smiled faintly. "I think he's gettin' ready to put me out to pasture."
"What do you mean?"
Caroline's smile disappeared. "Oh, nothin'. Just makin' noise."
"I don't understand-"
"You'll understand many things when you get married," May interrupted gently. "Includin' some of the little discomforts and worries a woman has to face."
"But it would be wonderful with the right person," Addie said dreamily, resisting the temptation of looking to see May's reaction as she spoke. "I can't wait to be married. "
"And just who is it you're plannin' on marryin'?"
"Oh… no one right now." Addie interjected just the right amount of confusion in her voice. The subject was dropped, but May's eyes remained on her, watching her warily all morning.
8
RUSSELL LIKED TO GRUMBLE LOUDLY ON THE EVEnings when he worked in his office. The sounds of his counting and frustrated exclamations penetrated the walls and wafted down the hallway, clearly audible in the parlor where May, Caroline, and Addie did needlework. May and Caroline mended clothes while Addie embroidered the border of a pillowcase.
They had been sewing a long time, long enough for Addie to have grown sore from sitting. She shifted in her chair and contemplated the scene around her. Cade had finished his homework and gone upstairs for the night, while the rest of the household was already sound asleep. It was quiet in the parlor, too quiet for Addie's peace of mind. She bent her attention to the half-formed flower on the pillowcase in her lap, but her thoughts wandered restlessly. May and Caro's blond heads were bent over their work. It amazed Addie, how remarkably alike they were in their outward serenity.
She wondered how they could look so tranquil, when they really weren't any more peaceful than she was. Inside they were restless too. Addie had seen and heard May's bitterness as she had talked about the life she could have chosen so long ago, a life very different from this one. And Caroline was more complex than any outsider would guess. Addie shook her head slightly, staring at May and Caro. Why were they so much better at hiding their real feelings than she was?
At least I dare to say what I really think most of the time. But they almost never do. None of the women around here do. Who had made up the rule that women were never supposed to get angry, that they were always supposed to be tolerant and calm and forbearing? Men had decided that. Men liked their women to be just short of saintly, while they themselves never bothered to control their tempers or choose their words carefully. They could stomp all over other people and be as rude and coarse as they wanted, and then the women had to smooth things over afterward and make everything right again. May and Caroline were perfect examples of nineteenth-century womanhood. Caretakers, peacemakers.
I won't be like them, Addie thought moodily. I couldn't even if I wanted to. It would mean playing a part all the time. And I'm not that good an actress.
Caroline, however, played the part to perfection. Addie moved her attention exclusively to her sister. How different Caro's inward and outward selves were. She looked as if she'd never done or said anything improper in her life. Blond, serene, passionless… it seemed Caro had inherited little of her father's lusty nature. She appeared to be perfectly content to have a husband who didn't share her bed. A few weeks ago Peter and Caro had moved into separate bedrooms, using Caro's pregnancy as an excuse. At this very moment Peter was sleeping upstairs, with no expectation of seeing his wife until tomorrow morning at the breakfast table.