“Yes! Yes!” the children chorused. “Let’s go now!”
“After school,” he insisted.
“Oooooh,” they moaned.
“It could be that if you work hard today, Mistress Teacher will let you out early. I will be waiting, no matter where the sun is, when you are free.”
As one, the group of children-Isabelle guessed there were fifteen in all-jumped up and raced to the school-room, where the Mistress Teacher waited. She waved at Sebastian, shaking her head as she did, then followed the children inside.
The street was quiet.
“I suspect this will be a difficult day for her to hold their attention.” Isabelle came up beside him and, at his start of surprise, she reached out and touched his shoulder.
“I’m sorry I-” Isabelle began but stopped at the anger she saw. “What is it?”
“You made an agreement, Mistress Nurse. You are to come sing at the castle every night. And you have not visited for three weeks. Do you think to punish me because I am not interested in taking any pleasure from your body?”
“You make it sound as though my body exists for your use.” She did her best to sound reasonable even as her temper seethed. “Men are not that sexist these days and it’s not how I see sex. It’s a way to express affection, to share love in a physical way. It is about the mind and heart as much as the body.”
“Isabelle, we each exist for the other’s ‘use’ as you call it. Let me demonstrate.” He pulled her into the dining room entry hall, pinned her against the wall and kissed her. His lips touched her neck below her ear. Isabelle raised her arms to push him away, but the kiss enchanted her and she encircled his neck instead.
This is more than lust, more than wanting; this is the deepest of feeling. Isabelle tried to convince him as his mouth met hers and she opened to him. Opened more than her lips, opened her body, her mind, her heart as she had the first time Sebastian had kissed her.
He ended the kiss abruptly. His hardness pressed against her, arousing her even though they were both fully clothed.
“This is not the mind and heart, you simpleminded virgin. This is lust at its most powerful. If you think this is the ultimate sharing, then you are amazingly uneducated. This is only the beginning, though I wonder if you will ever free the wanton that is hiding inside you.”
Isabelle’s cheeks burned, and not only because she knew what she was capable of, had dreamed of the two of them together in ways that were very creative and slightly shocking.
It hurt physically to push him away, to deny herself what she wanted to give and he wanted to take-for all the wrong reasons.
“You do have a way with words, Sebastian. Were all men this insulting in 1810? Or have you become so used to being called ‘the master’ that you think of yourself as above everyone else?”
“You annoy me.”
That was stating the obvious, Isabelle thought. He looked like a chastened schoolboy pretending not to have a crush on a girl, but she reminded herself he was definitely not a schoolboy, and the depth of his feelings on the subject of lust and love made the idea of a crush laughable.
“Your talk of love and union is a fantasy.” He stood with his hands on his hips, not angry with her, she saw, but very, very frustrated. That made two of them.
“No, love is not a fantasy,” Isabelle insisted. “I know I will be yours as well as I know what day this is, but you will be mine, Sebastian Dushayne, and that makes all the difference in the world.”
Isabelle smoothed her pants and shirt into place and stepped away from him. “I have come to the castillo every evening since I last saw you and am told every evening that you are ‘entertaining privately’ and have no wish for me to sing.”
Sebastian did not answer her with any more than narrowed eyes, so she left the dining room and began a brisk walk to her clinic to gather the supplies for the day.
“Wait!”
“I am already late,” she said, without breaking stride.
Sebastian fell into step beside her, smiling now. “You have been very busy. Cortez tells me that the immunization program has started.”
“Yes, I was very pleased that Mistress Esmé was so receptive to the idea.”
“I’m sure she was.”
At his cynical tone, Isabelle slowed and looked at him. “Why do you say it that way?”
“Isabelle, my sweet, I never left word that you should be turned away from the castillo.”
Now she stopped walking completely. “You didn’t? But then why would they tell me to leave?” She had a niggling feeling she knew the answer.
“You know why. Because Esmé does not want us to be together. I can guess that she told the gatekeeper to send you away. She is keeping you busy and me distracted.”
“Then you are entertaining privately?” Isabelle did not want to sound coy, but it was such a gentle way to ask if he was having sex with someone else.
“Every night,” he said with rueful nod. “Esmé has a long and deep connection with the concierge at the hotel. The woman on the desk is her cousin and the man is her grandson. They are always on the lookout for guests who suit my taste.”
Isabelle tried not to show her disgust.
He laughed. “Your striving for sainthood is as amusing as it is obvious. Make up your mind, Isabelle. You can be a saint or a woman. Not both.”
“Then you do not understand faith or God at all.”
“Oh, it will be a joy to have you educate me.”
“Yes, it will.” Isabelle had never once heard him use the word “joy.” It was the smallest, tiniest step in the right direction.
“Come tonight, Isabelle.”
“Yes, I will.”
Sebastian watched her leave. Her joie de vivre was endearing. Her honesty amazing and amusing. He was not in a hurry to have sex with her. The dance they were sharing was so much less predictable than what happened in bed.
By the time he visited all the villagers, the noon bell rang for the midday meal, as he was walking through the castle gate. While he had no need for food, he did like the afternoon rest that was a part of island life. He would sleep a little and then head to the beach for his time with the children.
While he dozed, Joubay came to him, sitting beside him on the huge rock that was the shadiest spot on the west-facing beach. They did not look at each other, but watched a sailboat approach, both of them afraid, both of them pretending they were not.
“So Esmé is up to her old tricks,” Joubay began.
Sebastian had not heard his voice in two hundred years but recognized the gravelly sound that came from too much tobacco.
“Doing her best to keep Isabelle Reynaud away from me.” Sebastian threw a rock into the water gently slapping the outcropping beneath their feet. “Does the healer actually think the girl is a threat to the curse?”
“Yes, I do believe so.”
“There could never be another as pure of heart, as generous, as compliant as Angelique was.” He felt the breeze stiffen and the fear became dread. “My love for her caused her death and I deserve every year of this curse. It is not all bad, you know.”
“Nonsense. You cannot lie to me. Sex is an endless seeking for what is lost. You know as well as I do that sex alone is not the answer.”
“Don’t preach to me. You have not been celibate for two hundred years.”
“For more of it than you think. The difference between us is that I knew it was not the answer.” Joubay raised his head as the breeze became a wind and the first of the clouds crept up from the west. “And I had faith that I could find redemption. I have, and I am at rest at last. Need I remind you that Isabelle was the key?”
“I am not going to watch this again, Joubay.” The sky was darkening. Sebastian could feel the rain in the air.
“Then wake up and stop torturing yourself.” Joubay had to shout now as the wind whipped around them. “Sebastian, give the woman what she gives to you and see what happens. It cannot hurt more than you are hurting now.”