“A bit unnecessarily violent, don’t you think?” I felt a little angry and rather haughty. “So you had a change of heart?
“I’m sorry,” Grace said simply. “I thought about it and realized I was wrong. It can happen so easily, getting sacked and sent home in disgrace. You don’t know.”
“You’re right, I don’t,” I said, not looking at her. “Why should you be acting so guilty? You’ve done nothing wrong.”
“I’ve . . . stepped out of line. That’s what Johnson said, and he’s right.’
“With me, you mean?”
“Yes.”
“You’re right, it’s not worth the risk.” I felt myself speaking coldly, and could not help it. “I suppose the pleasure of my company doesn’t make up for any of this.”
“You know it does,” Grace said. She stared off into the wood, shivering. “I should have brought a shawl.”
I felt impatient. “I haven’t tried to entangle you in anything, believe me.”
She looked at me impassively.
I blurted out, “I suppose you don’t want to be suspected of immoral conduct!”
“I don’t think my friendship with you has been immoral,” she said.
“Well, perhaps my feelings for you have,” I said. “I’m sure that changes everything for you. If we’re going to stop being friends, let’s do it sooner rather than later. I’m afraid of getting hurt.”
She looked at me in astonishment. “How can you speak so coldly? I—I know what you’re talking about, I think, and I didn’t have any intention of stopping...”
A blush rose to her cheeks and she averted her gaze. “I hoped that I meant something to you.”
“Of course you did! You still do, for that matter. But I haven’t seen you in days, and you were going to let that continue.”
“We have to be very careful now,” she whispered.
We sat in silence for a while. I felt my heart beating rapidly, and when I looked at Grace I could tell she was breathing hard—out of nervousness, no doubt. I touched her hand. She clasped mine in hers.
The touch of our flesh broke some spell that had been holding us apart. She leaned against me then raised her head and sought my lips. For the first time, but as naturally as if we had done it hundreds of times, our lips met.
I had never kissed anyone, and scarcely knew how. But the warmth of her mouth drew me in. At last we paused for breath. I gulped, not knowing what to say, only wanting more. As if she guessed this, Grace knelt on the bench beside me and we clasped each other, kissing more wildly and fervently. She began to use her tongue and as it entered my mouth, I groaned. I ran my hands over her shoulders, pressing her to me, stroking her hair, wishing we were naked and in bed together.
“Grace,” I whispered.
“Her eyes were lit up with pleasure and a kind of tenderness. With a smile, she removed my glasses and put them carefully down on the bench. Then she pulled me down into the fallen leaves. She began unbuttoning her blouse, pushing my and inside her clothes so that I could feel her breast. I sighed in frustration, anticipation, amazed at how soft and silky her skin felt to my touch.
We kissed for a long time. As we lay pressed together, our breasts touching, our mouths locked, I felt as if I would swoon in ecstasy. She was so heavy, so solid, so warm and fluid somehow underneath my hands. I wanted her on top of me so I rolled over. She had released her hair and it hung about my face. The feel of it brushing against my face and neck was exquisite.
At last she raised her head.
“Caroline . . . I want to be with you tonight.”
I couldn’t think. I gazed up at her dreamily. She had never looked more beautiful. With her hair down she was a goddess, I thought, a Celtic goddess, enchanting and strange.
“I love you,” I said, looking into her gentle hazel eyes. “Grace, I love you.”
She smiled, a little mysteriously, I thought.
I can’t imagine more pleasure than you’ve given me tonight,” I murmured.
“There’s so much more,” she said. Her voice sounded throaty, and I smiled at it. I drew her down to feel her lips upon mine once again.
“I know. But we have time, don’t we?”
“Why not tonight?” she said insistently. “Once we’re in Dublin the rooms are too close. Here you can lock your door, nobody can hear a thing.”
“Have you had lovers here?” I asked. She was silent. I could tell she was hurt by my question.
“I don’t mind if you have had,” I said. “Why should I judge you?”
She sighed, and ran her finger gently over my lips. “I’ve never felt as much for anyone as I have for you. That’s why I . . . I think we should be together while we can. But . . . if we’re caught, we’ll both lose our places. That’s the risk, and maybe you don’t want to take it.”
I thought for a second about the effect it would have on my mother, but she was curiously far away, in a distant land.
“I’ll take the risk,” I said.
“I’ll make it worth your while,” she whispered into my ear, biting my earlobe gently. I shivered in delight. Each sensation made me crave more. I now understood the concept of an “erotic awakening,” which I had read about in so many forbidden French novels. It was happening to me, and it was wonderful.
I sat at my dressing table. In front of me was a scratched mirror, and I observed myself dreamily. I had lit some candles and had put on my nightgown. With my hair down around my face I looked like a schoolgirl, I thought, still thin and undeveloped and painfully needy.
But something was different now. My eyes were glowing; they were a bright, almost dark blue. My lips looked puffy and fuller, somehow. I ran my tongue over them, thinking of how she had tasted this evening. Oh, Grace. What if she changed her mind?
My heart was thudding against my chest, and I could not think. All I felt was anticipation, nervousness, and a kind of desperation. I hardly know what I was doing. It amazed me that I cared so little for my own reputation, for what others might think or say. What would Ralph have thought? He had told me that a young man had made advances to him once at Oxford. He’d said that he was drunk and for a second he had been tempted. But he’d refused. Still, when he had spoken about it to me it had been in matter-of-fact tones. I’d wondered, at the time, why I wasn’t shocked. Now I knew that he had followed his desires at the Front and guessed that he would be pleased for me.
I wanted Grace, and it seemed so strange that she wanted me too. I had never dealt with this before, never had to wrestle with feelings of attraction for “the wrong person.” What if Grace is the right person? I thought, staring at my reflection as if it were a different woman looking back at me, a wiser one with more knowledge of the world.
I felt more than heard the knock on the door. Something in me shuddered.
“It’s open,” I said.
I did not look around, but I heard her latch the door. I felt her hands on my shoulders. As she bent over me I saw in the mirror her beautiful brown hair covering my breasts. Twisting around, I kissed her almost harshly. She was cold, and I wanted to warm her with my mouth.
It happened so fast, and yet infinitesimally slowly. I felt transformed, and I did not stop to question my actions, but pushed her down onto the bed. When she gasped, I felt a surge of desire so strong that I was afraid I was losing my sanity. In a few seconds, it seemed, we were both naked. Without even covering us up, I began to kiss her, every inch of her body, caressing her with my hands. Her passivity spurred me on to greater passion. I felt more in control than I had a few hours earlier; something had changed between us. She was surrendering to me this time.
It gave me great satisfaction to sense her pleasure as I used my tongue on her, to hear her low moans and gasps, to watch her arch her back, to feel her fingers in my hair. There was something so intimate, I thought, about wanting to taste a lover’s body, to savor her. As she convulsed against me, calling my name, I knew I had given her what she needed.
Tears rolled out of her lovely eyes. I kissed her eyelids, wrapping my fingers in her hair, thicker than mine and with a slight curl. Our bodies were damp with perspiration, and oddly enough, I loved the sensation.
“Don’t cry, Grace.”
“I’m sorry, it’s just . . . I didn’t expect . . . you were so wild, Caroline.”
I beamed. “I didn’t want you to do all the work, as you always have to. Was I too rough?”
She shook her head. Nestling against her, I felt her heartbeat begin to slow. “No, I wanted that, but I didn’t know how to ask.”
We held each other tightly. I rested my head on her breast, feeling tired and satiated, and immensely happy.
Then, gently, she rolled over so that she was on top. As I looked intently into her eyes, noticing how flushed she was, I also began to feel the delicious sensation of her body moving against mine. Kissing my breasts, she began a sensuous rhythm, her hair spreading over my face as she moved. The bed began to creak. I felt faint with desire, my breathing ragged, wanting only for her not to stop. I held her tight against me, her face in my neck, my eyes closed, and then a quivering sensation spread throughout my body. “Oh God,” I moaned as I collapsed back on the bed, my face burning, my heart racing.
We kissed and kissed, working each other into an absolute frenzy. I felt her push her fingers inside me, and could not stop myself from crying out. She took me roughly and I begged for more.
“You are so beautiful,’ I whispered to her, as we lay together in exhaustion. “Why me? How could someone like you choose me?”
“Because you’re good and kind and sweet,” she said softly, “and you treated me special from the beginning.”
“You treated me that way—”
“I just knew, as I saw you come up them steps—” She stopped and corrected herself. “Those steps—that you was someone I could trust. And then later, when you said to call you Caroline, I just thought, “Well, if you can say that to me I must mean something to you. And I was glad. But then when we were sitting by the stream and you were comforting me, I wanted to kiss you.”
“I wanted to, as well,” I said. “I thought it was just me.”
“I was almost going to do it. But then I thought you might take offence. I just wasn’t sure.”
“It’s hard to be sure,” I said dreamily. My body, usually tense, felt totally at ease. I stroked her arm, immersed in her lovely white skin. “This has all happened very fast. I suppose that’s your style, not mine.”
I said it teasingly, but she looked hurt suddenly. “Do you think I’m easy? I suppose you do.”
“No, I don’t. Of course not.”
“You can ask me . . . if you’ve anything to ask me, now’s the time,” she said with difficulty.
I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t want to ask the hard questions—who she’d slept with, when she’d started. It was clear to me that she was sexually experienced, but I did not regard this as any of my business. I knew now that I was a jealous person, and I did not want to open a can of worms; I had no interest in knowing names, in knowing who had been “the first.” I had not even been the first woman she’d been with, I was sure of that. I was surprised and rather dismayed by how much I did not want to know, but after a few moments of uncomfortable silence I said, “Did you ever . . . with Johnson?”
I could tell how nervous Grace was, and I was sorry I had asked.
She turned her head away. “Just the once. It was when I first arrived here. When I told you he took advantage of me.”
“He assaulted you?” I could feel the rage beginning to build inside me. “How could he?”
“It was more like . . . well, I finally let him. He was obsessed with me. And after he’d done it he let me alone.”
“That’s awful.” I felt almost physically sick.
“He wasn’t the first,” Grace said grimly. “He knew that, so he thought it didn’t mean anything to me. But I haven’t been with very many, Caroline, I don’t want you to think—”
“It really doesn’t matter to me. Honestly.” It didn’t, at that moment.
I held her and she hugged me tight.
“See, I told you you were kind and good.”
“So are you, Grace. You’ve been good to me. Better than I deserve.”
“No, not better than that. You deserve it,” she said. “Are you too tired now?” She was kissing me again, and I felt an urgency behind it. “I want you to know that it’s never been like this with anyone. I never even came to climax before. That’s hard to say.” She blushed, but pulled me to her more intensely. “I can’t get enough of you.”
We made love slowly, almost hesitantly, our desire just ahead of our exhaustion. I felt like a sputtering candle, flaring up only to burn low again. The strangest thing was how tender we were with each other, yet I craved her teeth on my skin. My nipples felt bruised, my lips swollen.
By the time we had finished I could hear the birds starting up outside my window and we were bathed in gray light.
“How will you work today?” I asked. “You’ll be so tired...”
“So will you,” she said, laughing. We’ll sleep well tomorrow and catch up.”
My face fell at the thought of a night without her.
“We’ll do this again?” I said anxiously, “before we go?”
She nodded, stroking my cheek. I lay beside her, knowing she would have to leave soon and dreading it.
“We can’t just stop here,” she said. “Even though it would be safest.”
“I can’t be prudent now,” I said. “It’s too late for that.”
She smiled.