Page 35 of The Wondrous Life and Loves of Nella Carter
My body was aflame, and so was my heart. We fit together. I understood Eulalie’s secret smile when she spoke of Eugène. There was an aching beauty in this moment, this right now. It was as if I’d lived in the dark all my life and had finally come into the light.
He broke apart from me, chest heaving. Cold gripped me without him, guilt already curling inside my belly. My heart had started to betray Jacques long ago, and I’d been ready to let my body do the same.
“We shouldn’t.” He put more space between us. His chest still heaved as he held his hands to his sides, restraining himself. “I’m sorry, Miss Noelle. We shouldn’t have done that.” He rubbed his neck. “Maybe it’s best if I find another place. Avoid temptation.”
The thought of him leaving cut a hole in my very soul. “But you can’t. Your—your dreams! You’ve almost got enough to establish your shop. You shouldn’t have to change your plan.”
I stepped back, struggling with the impossibility of it all, when the French doors suddenly opened behind me.
“Ah! William!” Jacques called, striding out and placing his hand on my back. “Just the person I need. Beau threw a shoe.”
“Of course, Mr. Jacques,” William said, hefting the bridle, eyes downcast, sweat leaking from his brow.
I couldn’t tell if Jacques had seen anything.
“Splendid. What were you two discussing?”
“France,” I said. “William mentioned he’d like to travel.”
“Would you?” Jacques stood, eyes squinting as he did when he was deep in thought. “I could use a good man like you over there.”
“You could?” I asked breathlessly.
Jacques shrugged. “They have horses in France. They’ll need shoeing too.” He waited expectantly.
William stood there, torn. “It is a mighty fine offer.”
“Then what’s stopping you?” Jacques asked.
I gulped. This was bad. If William gave anything away, my life here would be over. But perhaps it already was. If he came with us to Paris, temptation would be so close.
William straightened. “Thank you. I shall take you up on your offer.”
“Good man. We’ll talk it all through in the morning. I believe I have an apology to make,” Jacques said, looking at me. “Come, Noelle.” He extended his hand.
“Night, Miss Noelle,” William said, looking over at me. I nodded goodbye, unable to speak. I wanted to follow him and relive that feeling, but Jacques’s hand in mine felt like a dousing of cold water.
What was I doing? I needed to be alone and think. I didn’t have the chance, as Jacques’s apology came in the form of sex.
He was more tender than usual, but I couldn’t help comparing his kisses to William’s. My face flooded with shame at the thought and the tingles between my thighs at the idea of William’s body on mine, lifting me, stretching me out. It was enough to give me vapors.
After Jacques finished, he lay back, pleased with himself. “It’s all right if you can’t have babies for a while. I have three already, and it’ll give me more time with you.” He laid his hand on my leg, thumb stroking the top of my knee. “All will be well between us.”
But that was far from the truth.
I agonized over my decision as the weeks passed. I kept away from William. I focused on writing and trying to get word to Silas, who still hadn’t shown. A few times, I would catch William working in the garden from the upstairs window, and every time, he would stop as if he could sense me looking.
He invaded my dreams with the things we would do together, once we were free. I woke up aching for our hopes to be made reality: walking together or reading my work, him at the forge fashioning more metal figures.
“Ma would have my hide if she knew, but as you’re leaving, I had to say something,” Jenny announced as she helped pack a trunk of my winter dresses.
“What?” I said, startled. We had been working in silence the whole time.
She folded another dress and packed it in the chest snugly. “I know it’s not my place to say, begging pardon. But we’ve got eyes, Miss Noelle. We don’t just cook and clean.”
Heat flushed up my neck as I glanced away.
“Ma is glad it’s finished,” she said. “Says it’s not the way of things—that Mr. Jacques is a good man.” Jenny finished the last skirt, carefully packed in the shoes, and stood up.
