Garden of Lies(49)

“Do you regret it?” He watched her, trying to read her eyes. “Because if so, I’d rather you told me now so that I can ensure it doesn’t happen again.”

“For the last time, I knew what I was doing and I do not regret it. Is that enough for you to be certain that my nerves have not been completely shattered?”

“Thank you,” he said.

She drummed her fingers on her forearms. “Well? You appear to be waiting for me to say something else.”

He cleared his throat. “This might be an appropriate time to tell me that you found our encounter at least mildly pleasurable if not entirely satisfactory.”

Her eyes widened in shock. “Oh. Yes. Well, as to that, I am not sure.”

He winced. “On second thought, it might be best if we moved on to another topic. At this rate you will completely unman me.”

“The thing is, something did happen—something that was . . . unfamiliar to me.”

“Generally speaking it’s not the sort of thing that is easily confused with other activities.”

She started pacing again. “I believe I experienced what the doctors refer to as a paroxysm. A cathartic paroxysm.”

“I’m not sure I could even spell paroxysm. What the devil is that?”

She paused to glare at him. “You know what I mean. A physical . . . release.”

“Are you trying to tell me that you experienced a climax?”

She raised her chin. “The medical profession calls it a paroxysm when it happens in women. I suppose they don’t think it’s possible that women are capable of actually experiencing pleasure in the way that men do so they give it a label that makes it sound more like a case of shattered nerves.”

A relief so great that it equaled the pleasure he had experienced a short time ago nearly overwhelmed him. He started to smile, caught himself and quickly suppressed it.

“Ah,” he said. “I see.”

She shot him a suspicious look. “What do you see?”

He could no longer suppress the smile. Crossing the short distance that separated them he cupped her face in his hands.

“I realize that you have been a widow for many years now. Perhaps it has been some time since you enjoyed that sort of thing.”

She wrinkled her nose. “I never enjoyed one of those. I expect that is why I did not recognize the sensation at first.”

“Your marriage was not a happy one? Not even in the beginning?”

“I told myself I was content—at least, I did until I discovered Jeremy’s gambling habit and his taste for brothels. I understood belatedly that he had married me to get his hands on the small inheritance my father left me. I did not realize that there was something missing in our physical relationship. I suspect it is that way for many other women, as well. It certainly explains why so many of them are making appointments with their doctors for the treatment of congestion and hysteria.”

“Are you telling me there is a treatment for, uh—”

“I believe a medical instrument called a vibrator is involved.”

“You’re serious, aren’t you?”

She was bright pink now. “Yes, as a matter of fact, I am. My assistant, Matty, booked an appointment for a treatment with a doctor last month. She was practically glowing when she returned to the office. She says she plans to schedule another appointment soon. She recommended the therapy. Highly.”

Slater was stunned. And then he started to smile again. The smile turned into a grin and then a chuckle. Without warning he was suddenly roaring with laughter. Ursula watched him, bemused.

Eventually he regained his composure. When he did he realized he felt uncharacteristically lighthearted.

He brushed his mouth lightly across her lips. “Promise me that you will consult with me before you make any appointments with a doctor.”

She blushed a deeper shade of red and then she smiled. It was a brilliant, dazzling smile. Sensual laughter lit her eyes.

“I will do that,” she said.

He realized he was getting hard again. He wanted to pick her up in his arms and carry her back to the chair to demonstrate to her that what she had experienced was not a one-time event.

He groaned and pulled her to him. “I would like very much to make love to you again but I regret to say we have more pressing issues.”

“Rosemont and his laboratory.” Ursula raised her head. “And Anne’s connection to the drug trade, which appears to have been going on for several months. I just do not understand it.”

“Neither do I, not yet. But her involvement may have led to her death.”

“That reminds me.” Ursula stepped out of his arms and went to the satchel sitting on top of her desk. “I have something to show you. I collected a sample of the dried herbs that I found in Rosemont’s laboratory. I think he used them to concoct the drug. I saw no other plant specimens on the premises. And he said something about ruing the day he agreed to make the ambrosia.”

“He admitted that he was concocting the drug?”

“Yes.”

Slater watched her open the satchel and remove a small bundle created from a knotted handkerchief. When she untied the square of linen he saw a handful of dried leaves and flowers.

“I don’t recognize that plant,” he said. “It’s nothing like the opium poppy.”