Page 50 of The Giver of Stars
She stared at the words, her heart thumping in her ears, her skin prickling as they shaped and re-formed themselves in her imagination. She thought suddenly of Beth’s astonished voice:Is it true that some female animals willdieif denied sexual union?
Alice sat for a long time, gazing at the page in front of her. She wasn’t sure how long she stayed like that. She thought about Garrett Bligh, his hand reaching blindly for his wife’s, the way their eyes locked in mutual understanding even in his final days. Finally she stood up and walked to the wooden trunk. Glancing behind her, as if even then someone might see what she was doing, she rummaged through it until she pulled out the little blue book. She sat down at the desk and, opening it, began to read.
It was almost 9.45 p.m. by the time she returned home. The Ford was outside and Mr Van Cleve was in his room, pulling open his drawers and ramming them shut with so much force that she could hear him from the hall. She closed the front door behind her and walked quietly upstairs, her mind humming, her fingers trailing lightly on the banister. She reached the bathroom, closed and bolted the door, allowed her clothes to fall around her ankles and used a washcloth to wipe away the day’s grime so that her skin was once again soft and sweet-smelling. Then she walked back into her room and reached into her trunk for her silk nightdress. The peach-coloured fabric collapsed, soft and fluid, across her skin.
Bennett wasn’t on the daybed. She saw only the broad back of him on their bed, lying, as he so often did, on his left side away from her. He had lost his summer tan and his skinwas pale in the half-light, the outline of his muscles moving gently as he shifted. Bennett, she thought. Bennett, who had once kissed the inside of her wrist and told her she was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. Who had promised a world in whispers. Who had told her he adored every last bit of her. She lifted the coverlet and climbed into the warm space inside, barely making a sound.
Bennett didn’t stir, but his long, easy breaths told her he was deeply asleep.
Let the flickering flame of your soul play all about me
That into my limbs may come the keenness of fire …
She moved close, so close that she could feel her breath on his warm skin. She inhaled the scent of him, the soap mixed with something primal that even his military attempts at cleanliness couldn’t erase. She reached out, hesitated just a moment, and then placed her arm over his body, finding his fingers and entwining them with her own. She waited, and felt his hand close around hers, and she let her cheek rest against his back, closing her eyes the better to absorb the rise and fall of his breath.
‘Bennett,’ she whispered, ‘I’m sorry.’ Even as she was not entirely sure what she was sorry for.
He released her hand and, for a second, her heart stilled, but he shifted his weight, turning so that he was facing her, his eyes just visible and open. He gazed down at her, her eyes great sad pools, begging him to love her, and perhaps in that moment there was something in her expression that no sane man could refuse because with a sigh he placed an arm around her and allowed her to nestle into his chest. She placed her fingers lightly on his collarbone, her breath a little shallow now, her thoughts jumbling with desire and relief.
‘I want to make you happy,’ she murmured, so quietly that she wasn’t even sure he would hear her. ‘Really I do.’
She looked up. His eyes searched hers, and then he lowered his mouth to hers and kissed her. Alice closed her eyes and let him, feeling the deep easing of something that had been wound so tightly that she had felt she could barely breathe. He kissed her and stroked her hair with his broad palm, and she wanted to just stay in that moment for ever, where it was like they used to be. Bennett and Alice, a love story at its beginning.
The life and joy of tongues of flame,
And, going out from you, tightly strung and in tune,
I may rouse the blear-eyed world, and pour into it –
She felt desire build in her swiftly, its fuse lit by the poetry and the unfamiliar words of the little blue book, which conjured images that her imagination yearned to make flesh. She yielded her lips to his, let her breath quicken, felt a bolt of electricity when he let out a low groan of pleasure. His weight was on her now, his muscular legs between hers. She moved against him, her thoughts now lost, her whole body sparking with new nerve endings.Now, she thought, and even that thought was misted with urgent pleasure.
Now. At last. Yes.
‘What are you doing?’
It took her a moment to work out what he was saying.
‘What are you doing?’
She pulled her hand back. Looked down. ‘I – I was just touching you?’
‘There?’
‘I … thought you’d like it.’
He pulled back, dragging the cover over his groin, leaving her exposed. Some part of her was still flushed with need,and it made her bold. She lowered her voice and placed her hand on his cheek. ‘I read a book this evening, Bennett. It’s about what love can be between a man and his wife. It’s by a medical doctor. And it says that we should feel free to give each other pleasure in all sorts of –’
‘You’re readingwhat?’ Bennett pushed himself upright. ‘What iswrongwith you?’
‘Bennett – it was about married people. It was designed to help couples to bring each other joy in the bedroom and … well, men apparently do love to be touched –’
‘Stop! Why can’t you just … be a lady?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Thistouchingand this reading ofsmut. What in hell is wrong with you, Alice? You – you make itimpossible!’
Alice sprang back. ‘Imake it impossible? Bennett, nothing has happened in almost a year! Nothing! And in our vows, we promised to love each other with our bodies, as in all ways! Those were vows we made before God! This book says it’s perfectly normal for a husband and wife to touch each other wherever they like! We’remarried! That’s what it says!’
