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Along the Infinite Sea: Love, friendship and heartbreak, the perfect summer read. Beatriz Williams
Читать онлайн.Название Along the Infinite Sea: Love, friendship and heartbreak, the perfect summer read
Год выпуска 0
isbn 9780008134969
Автор произведения Beatriz Williams
Издательство HarperCollins
“I didn’t give you a choice.”
“A man has always the choice. Did I hurt you?”
“No, no.”
“Yes, I did. I hurt you. I tried to be gentle, but I have never done that before, been with an innocent.”
“Never? Really?”
“Never. And I can’t seem to regret it. A cad as well as a brute.” He kissed my lips, rose up on his hands, and lifted himself carefully away. He gazed back at me and his face was deep with remorse. I sat up and laid my bold palms against his cheeks. “Don’t look at me like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like you want to take it all back.”
“No, never. It’s done now. We’re in God’s hands.”
“Listen to you. A moment ago you were offering me a villa by the sea and a shameless apartment in Paris.”
“Because I did not think you would be so foolish as to accept. I thought you would slap me as I deserved and stalk back to your father’s house.”
“But I’m unexpected.”
“Unexpected and beautiful.” He pulled my hands from his face and kissed each one, and he drew me into his chest and settled us in the grass. I lay bare and marveling in the curve of his body, thinking, My God, we are lovers now, we have actually made love together.
The silence stretched out lazily. I said, “I’ve shocked you, haven’t I?”
He laughed. “You have shocked and delighted me beyond words. But I must think a little. I must think what is to be done now.”
“You mentioned a villa.”
“Yes, I did. But this villa is something of a dream, and there is a reality to be considered first.” He shifted me on his chest and reached for his jacket, and this time he drew out his cigarettes and lit one briskly with his gold lighter. “Do you know what I have been thinking about, this past week?”
“I know I’ve spent the past week wishing that I did.”
“I have been thinking how I have arranged my life in a certain way, according to certain principles, and a rather arrogant belief that this was what God intended of me, and he would therefore overlook any little sins I might commit. And I have been wondering whether perhaps God has intended something entirely different, or if he has merely decided he should punish me after all.”
“Is this one of those little sins?”
“Yes, I suppose it is, according to the covenant. But I don’t regret it, I will never regret this moment. I am only pondering the path now before us.” He lay there, smoking quietly with one hand and holding me to his chest with the other. “You are a great complication, you know,” he said solemnly, after a moment.
“Am I?”
“A tremendous complication. So I suppose, before I ponder this matter any longer, I should humble myself to ask you what you want. What path you imagine for us. Since I find myself bound to you, by the pint of your blood that communicates in my veins, and now by honor, so therefore I am your servant on earth.”
This time, it was my turn to laugh. “I love your chivalry. You talk like a man from a hundred years ago.”
“Hmm. Yes. And what is your plan for this ancient servant you have brought under your command?”
“Well. I like the sound of this villa of yours, with the olives and the grapes.” I paused, because I had left something out, and I wanted to see if he would supply the word for me. But he said nothing, and I went on: “And then there’s that talk about Paris, and by a strange coincidence, I was just thinking this morning that an apartment in Montparnasse might be the very thing for me.”
“Montparnasse! Annabelle in Montparnasse?”
“Yes. Why not? It’s crammed with Americans and art. It’s the most interesting place in the world right now. I could live in some grubby little room above a café and teach the cello to the daughters of the bourgeoisie.”
“You realize that in Montparnasse, you will be expected to take a new lover every night, as a matter of course?”
“Ah, but I’m unexpected, remember? I think I’ll be happy with just the one.”
“I see. I suppose, so long as this lover is me, I cannot object.”
“Yes, this lover would be you.” I rolled over and propped my chin on my hands, atop his chest, between the white sides of his unbuttoned shirt. Stefan stubbed out his cigarette in the grass and cupped his hands around the backs of my bare shoulders. I felt suddenly daring and desirable, like somebody’s mistress. I said, “What do you think of my path, Herr Silverman? Would you like to travel it with me?”
He kissed me. The smoke was returning to his eyes. He kissed me again, a little harder. “This is your path. This is what you want of me.”
“Only if you want it, too.”
He studied me, kissed me, and then studied me again, as if the kiss might have made a difference. “All right, then. All right, Mademoiselle de Créouville. I will see what I can arrange. I will take care of everything for us. But come. The tide will be turning soon. I must be off.” He reached for my blouse and helped me into it.
“The tide?”
“Yes, the tide. I have left the tender at the Hôtel du Cap.”
“But where are you going?”
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