Neferet's Curse (House of Night Novellas #3)(28)

His hand had stopped patting me, and had begun traveling up and down my back, warmly, intimately. When his breathing began to deepen and his touch had gone from consolation to caress, I’d realized his body had begun to react to the scant amount of cloth separating his hand and my na**d flesh. I’d let instinct guide me. I’d held to him more tightly, shifting my br**sts so that they were flattened against his chest, and then I pulled abruptly from his arms. With trembling hands I’d retied my dressing gown and turned away from him.

“What you must think of me! My behavior is so … so—” I’d stuttered, trying to find my mother’s words. “So forward!”

“No, Emily. You must not think that, for I do not think that. You are obviously distraught and not yourself.”

“But that is the trouble, Arthur. I am myself because I have only myself on which to depend. I am completely alone with Father. I so wish Mother was here and could help me.” I hadn’t had to pretend the sob that followed those words.

“But I am here! You are not alone. Emily, give me leave to speak to my mother and my father of your troubles. They are wise. They will know what to do.”

I’d quelled a fluttering of hope and shook my head miserably. “No, there is nothing to be done. Arthur, Father frightens me dreadfully. If your father said anything to him about his treatment of me, it would only make my situation worse.”

“Emily, I cannot promise that my father will not speak to yours. I had wanted more time to move ahead slowly and carefully, but with things as they are, it doesn’t seem we are destined to be afforded time.” He’d drawn a deep breath, and turned to face me on the bench. Gently, chastely, he’d taken my hands in his and continued. “Emily Wheiler, I would like to ask permission to formally court you, with the express purpose of making you my wife. Will you accept me?”

“Yes, Arthur! Oh, yes!” It hadn’t just been relief at the escape that had opened before me that had me laughing and crying and hugging him tightly. I cared for Arthur Simpton, truly.

I might even love him.

He’d hugged me in return and then, laughing with me, drawn back, saying, “I have not stopped thinking of you from the moment I first saw you all those many months ago when you and your friend joined the Hermes Club. I think I have always known you would be mine.”

I’d tilted my head back and looked up at him adoringly. “Arthur Simpton, you have made me the happiest girl in the world.”

Slowly he’d bent and pressed his lips to mine. That first kiss had been an electrical shock to my body. I’d felt myself molding to his body and parted my lips invitingly. Arthur had deepened the kiss, tasting me hesitantly with his tongue. There had been no hesitation in my response. I’d opened to him, and even as I write this my body easily recalls the rush of warmth and wetness that his mouth had caused me to feel. Breathing deeply, he’d broken the kiss. His laugh had been tremulous.

“I-I must speak to your father soon. Tomorrow! I will call on him tomorrow.”

My good sense had returned to me abruptly. “No, Arthur! You mustn’t.”

“But I don’t understand. You are frightened, and time is of the essence.”

I took his hand, pressed it to my breast, over my heart, and dared to say, “Do you trust me, my darling?”

His startled expression had softened instantly. “Of course I do!”

“Then please do as I say and all will be well. You must not speak to Father alone. He is not himself. He will not be reasonable. Arthur, he may even forbid you to see me, and then beat me when I protest.”

“No, Emily! I will not allow that!

I’d breathed a sigh of relief. “I know how you can secure his blessing, my safety, and our happiness, but you must do as I tell you. I know Father far better than you do.”

“Tell me what I must do to keep you safe.”

“Be sure you and your parents attend the dinner at the University Club Monday next after the opening ceremonies on the Midway. At the dinner, in front of his peers and the great ladies of Chicago who have expressly requested that I accompany Father, that is when you must publicly ask permission to court me.” Arthur had already been nodding in agreement, but I continued, “Even in his current unstable state, Father will not act irrationally in public.”

“When I pledge my intentions, and my family supports me in my troth, your father will have no rational reason to refuse me.”

I’d squeezed his hand more tightly. “That is true, but only if you do so in public.”

“You are right, sweet Emily. Your father will have to act like himself then.”

“Exactly! You are so wise, Arthur,” was what I’d said. My thoughts, of course, had been much different.

“But will you be safe for a week? And how can I see you without provoking your father?”

My mind had whirred. “Father himself has said I am unwell. I will be a dutiful daughter and insist he is right, that my health is fragile and that I must rest, so as to be invigorated for Monday.” And, I’d added silently, I will go to my bed early and sleep with a heavy chest of drawers barring entrance to my chamber …

Arthur had pulled his hand from me and gently tapped me on my nose. “And no more insisting that you volunteer at the GFWC. After we are married there will be years for you to follow your civic spirit, and volunteer as often and wherever you so desire.”