Cobb was now beginning to breathe moreeasily, and was soon able to disengage his reconnoitring fingersand bring them safely back to his side without interrupting thesteady stutter of Bessie’s snoring. However, a more serious problemloomed: how to detach his stiff member from her grasp withoutjarring her awake or doing damage to its future performances. Hesqueezed his eyes shut, and commanded it to stand-at-ease, butBessie’s fingers, on their own initiative, kept kneading theircatch, and the heat radiating from her exposed, vulnerable fleshkept the treacherous thing rigidly alert. He cursed his own lustynature. He thought about his sweet, innocent son and daughter. Hepictured Constable Ewan Wilkie gorging a jam tart. At last he waspliant enough to pull slowly away and roll onto his back — completely detached.
Now he had to figure out a way to avoid arematch. It was obvious he could not stay here. She was immovableand unlikely to abandon the hunt, should she wake up beforemorning. He would find some nook or other and bunk down there. Whatsort of excuse he could come up with for fleeing her charms he’dworry about later. He was still bone-weary, and the moon, high andbright in the eastern sky, indicated that the night had barelybegun. Apparently Bessie hadn’t waited long before making her move.With extreme care he eased himself up to the side of the bed,cursing its slats as they squeaked and squawked. He made certain noblast of icy air disturbed her as he slid the comforter aside.
Bessie’s snoring stopped. Some unintelligiblesounds began bubbling out of her slack mouth. There was enoughmoonlight for him to see her eyelids flutter. What could he do ifshe woke up now and saw him standing beside the bed with the fliesof his long-johns open? Without taking his eyes off her face abovethe coverlet, he began to back out of the room, ignoring the colddraft shooting up the folds of his nightshirt, and taking a momentto tuck his penis back into its proper pouch.
“Where’re you goin’, lover?”
Cobb froze. And waited. The snoring startedup again, just audible. She was talking in her sleep. As he backedinto the hall, he heard her mumble something else, something thatsounded like “brave. . brave” — and repeated several times.Well, women had their fantasies too, didn’t they?
Beginning to shiver mightily with the cold,Cobb trotted down the hall to the door of Bessie’s quarters at thefar end. He thought he might find a blanket in there that he coulduse to cover himself. But when he tried the door, he found itlocked. He padded back down to the dining-area. The room was stillrelatively warm, but cooling rapidly. He dragged the two armchairsclose together, slumped down in one, pulled Alfred’s fancy overcoatacross his shivering body, and curled his legs up on the otherchair.
Chilled, aching, uncomfortable, he wasastonished to find himself drifting instantly towards sleep.
Cobb awoke with a start. Which wasn’t wise becauseit was enough to send him crashing, rump-first, down between thetwo chairs that had served him as a makeshift bed. He groaned androlled free of them, onto his side. His back and legs ached. Thethrobbing in his skull was threatening to shatter it. His tonguetasted like one of his socks. And for a frightening second or twohe was not sure where he was. Gradually, however, Bessie Jiggins’dining-room came into focus and, with it, recollections of thehorrors of the night just past.
He shuddered, moaned against his variousaches, and struggled to his feet. He had to grab the chair-arm tosteady his dizziness and keep himself from toppling. The room wasstill dark, but a brightening behind the calico curtains indicatedthat the sunrise had already begun. He could hear no other soundbut his own harsh breathing. Then he began to shiver with the deepchill of the room.
At some cost he hobbled over to thekindling-box and proceeded to get a fire started in the hearth.Then he crept across the hall and, going no farther, monitoredBessie’s snoring for a full minute. Then he reached in through thedoorway and retrieved his clothes. Back in the dining-room, hestood as close as he dared to the fire and wriggled into his shirtand trousers. He spotted a kettle of water nearby and put it on thehob. Then he sat down to think.
He thought about the tale Bessie had spunabout the butler’s illness and the day’s delay in his leaving forCobourg with Brutus Glatt. He thought about the door to herquarters being scrupulously locked. And then it hit him — with agratifying wallop! He knew now what word she had been mumbling ashe had scuttled out of her clutches a few hours ago. And it wasn’t“ brave. . brave.”
What to do, though? Only one option presenteditself. In stockinged feet he padded resolutely across to the sceneof Bessie’s aborted assault. She lay on her back, sawing logs — crosscut. Her nightgown was still bunched at her throat, and thecomforter had slipped down far enough to expose four-fifths of herstunning breasts. But Cobb forced himself to look past theirsplendid arches and rigid nipples to the key that lay nestledbetween them at the end of a thickly braided golden cord.
He could see no way of getting the loop ofcord over her head without waking her, so he took out his penknifeand approached her, one tiny step at a time. Just as he reached theedge of the bed, a floorboard protested at the pressure on it.Bessie’s eyelids fluttered. Her snoring stalled. A small bubble ofspit appeared between her lips, expanded and burst. Cobb froze.What would she think if she were to open her eyes at this momentand see a fully clothed man arched over her naked form with a knifebrandished in his right hand?
She didn’t wake, however. Very slowly thesnores started up again, irregular and staccato at first, but soonascending to their customary operatic pitch. Holding his breath,Cobb leaned over her as far as he could without collapsing ontothose womanly hillocks, rubbed the blade of his penknife with histhumb until the metal was warm, and eased it under the cord withoutcontacting flesh. With his other hand he grasped both sides of theloop just above the knot that held the key in place, and then,closing his eyes, he pulled the blade up against the golden braid — slowly. . slowly. . a millimetre at a time.
He felt a hand on his thigh. He stoppedcutting, and tried to breathe, then not-breathe. Despite the chillin the room, his brow was awash with clammy sweat. The fingers ofBessie’s left hand did a little jig high up on his trouser-leg. Hesaw a smile interrupt her snoring. The fingers fell away.
Without realizing it, in his panic at thearrival of her fingers, he had jerked away just forcefully enoughto have his blade sever the cord. The key now lay atop her leftbreast. With a trembling that threatened to undo him but which hecouldn’t control, Cobb succeeded in lifting the key free. Stilltrembling, he backed out of the room, and stood in the hall gaspingfor breath. By God, he’d been in a dozen donnybrooks and pummelledtoughs in alleys all over Toronto, but he hadn’t been this nervoussince the birth of his daughter Delia!
Well, he had the key. And one chance to testhis theory before the sultry Siren back there woke up anddiscovered she had been forsaken. At the door to Bessie’s ownquarters he inserted the key without difficulty, turned it slowly,and heard the lock give way. He inched the door inward.
He was surprised to find himself inside aspacious room partially illuminated by bars of sunlight slantingthrough gaps in the shutters that were tightly closed over two widewindows. A heated room! Quickly he took in the pot-belliedstove, the three-pillowed sofa, the padded easy-chair, the ornateescritoire littered with papers, and a bookcase stuffed withleather-bound volumes. The lace curtains framing the windows andthe mauve covering on the sofa suggested a woman’s room — forsitting, writing, relaxing.
Cobb was disappointed to find it empty.
However, straight ahead among the morningshadows he spied a short hallway with a door at the end of it. Hemoved silently across the room, and as he neared the hallway, henoticed another door to his left. It was half open, enough for himto take a peek inside. In the dim light he could just make out agleaming copper bathtub and detect the lingering scents of perfumedsoap and bath powder.