Box Set: The ArringtonTrilogy (87 page)

I undressed, took the blue silk sheet that
draped over the lounge, and loosely wrapped it around myself before
he came in. I was still uncomfortable and apprehensive about
revealing myself, and positioned myself up against the wall so he
wouldn’t see.

“I’ve been waiting for this day for some
time. Thank you for gracing me with your beauty,” he said
charmingly, then took out his paints.

“A painting?”

“Yes. Now let me lay you down, the way I want
to paint you,” he said, and gently placed me down onto the lounge.
“Put this hand above your head and the other . . . let it linger
across your curvy waist.” As he moved my hands, the sheet slid off.
I expected to shiver and close my eyes, but instead I relished the
moment and felt my beauty as a positive quality instead of a
burden. I wanted to feel beautiful; I wanted to be beautiful for
Richard.

His eyes didn’t linger on me the way I
expected; he didn’t gawk at my breasts the way most men did. He got
right to work, and I lay there, singing and reciting funny lines
from the play that were embedded in my brain. As I’d predicted,
Richard didn’t talk much when he painted, and over the hours I
found ways to amuse myself. It was only when it came time for my
medicine that I became fidgety and restless, and Richard grew
frustrated with me.

“A few more minutes. Then we can be done for
today,” he insisted.

I didn’t take his direction and got up,
forgetting about my back, forgetting he would see the lashings. It
was the aghast, horrified expression on his face that caused me to
stop dressing and remember. My throat began to tighten, and I
immediately began to apologize. “I know, it’s hideous; it’s
ghastly. I’m sure you see me as ugly now,” I cried. I rushed to
cover my face with my hands. I couldn’t believe I’d forgotten!

Richard came over to me, but I held out my
hand and shouted for him to stay away. I feared he would abuse my
sorrow and take advantage of me the same way Warren had done.

“Leave me alone!”

“Lillian . . .”

“GET OUT!”

Richard swiftly darted out. He left me alone
with the painting, the nude portrait taking form, a body that
didn’t deserve to be admired on a canvas. I ran to it and smashed
it on the floor, stomping all over it. Richard bolted back in and
dragged me away from the ruined canvas, broken easel, and destroyed
painting. “In God’s name, what are you doing!” he demanded, shaking
me violently.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, Richard,” I bawled.
Randolph came up. He heard the commotion.

“Get her a robe,” Richard commanded. Randolph
hurried off and came back with a rose-colored one of Judith’s silk
bathrobes. Richard wrapped me up, lifted me into his arms, and
whisked me to my room, as Randolph poured me a stiff drink, which I
gulped down between heavy sobs.

As soon as he dismissed the loyal butler,
Richard came and rocked me; he hushed me and consoled me. He wasn’t
angry with me for me ruining his artwork. Instead, Richard showed
me such sympathy it melted my heart. “I’m sorry. I should have seen
this, I should have respected your wishes,” he whispered into the
top of my hair, as his chin comfortably rested there.

I clung to him, so desperately needing to
feel protected. My eyes were wild with fright, and he saw to it
that I drank some more and then took my medicine - the stuff that
went up my nose and calmed my brain so I wouldn’t have to think so
hard, and worry and fret all the time.

When I finally relaxed, Richard laid me down
and came beside me. I didn’t think he would abuse me the way Warren
had. I placed my head on his chest as he gently stoked my long hair
and told me I was just as beautiful as he had imagined. “The scars
don’t take that away,” he murmured.

“There’s so much you don’t know,” I
sniffled.

“I will know only what you want me to from
now on. I regret pushing you so hard.” And with that, I dozed in
his safe embrace, and he stayed with me, holding me, all night
long.

* * *

When I arrived for breakfast, Richard was
rather downcast, though I had the feeling that one of my heaviest
burdens had been lifted. As soon as I sat, I could see he was
troubled. Did he regret staying with me? Was he now angry and
unforgiving of me for my attack on his beloved artwork? I feared he
was.

As I reached for my glass of orange juice, I
noticed the envelope with my name on it. I looked to Richard, and
he gestured with a nod that I should open it. Inside, to my
surprise, it contained money, more than enough money for me to
leave. All the thoughts and dreams of returning to Jasper Island
came flooding over me as I stared disbelievingly at it.

“It’s all yours. You’ve lived up to your end
of the bargain, you’ve earned your ticket home,” he said, and I was
sure I heard a hint of anguish in his voice.

I held the money in my shaking hands for what
seemed like a long, long time, and then I lifted my eyes again to
meet Richard’s. With all I had in me, I needed to know if he wanted
me to go. I feared the answer, I cringed at the thought of being
rejected and sent away again.

“Do you want me to leave?” I timidly
asked.

“Do you want to leave?” he retorted.

I didn’t answer him, for I didn’t know. He
kept his stare on me, his eyes wouldn’t even blink. It was a moment
I had dreamt of for so long, and yet I didn’t jump at it the way I
had imagined. There was something holding me back. Was it the fear
that no one would be there for me? Is it that I would possibly
never see Richard again? I asked myself. Would I lose all the
admiration I had never received before and worked so hard to gain?
I didn’t know. I was always running away, and perhaps I was
actually running from myself.

“Isn’t this what you want, Lillian? What you
have begged for? You can go now, no strings, nothing here to hold
you back. Not the law, not money, not me.” His face was red and his
eyes burned with the tears.

Richard had so much. Money, his wife, girls
who adored him, his career. So why did I see the torment in his
eyes at the thought of me leaving?

With trepidation, as he reached out for my
hand, he said everything I had shut off in the back of my mind, the
words I thought no one would ever say to me and mean it: “I love
you, Lillian.”

He saw the doubt in me. He knew he had to be
patient and make me believe in him. “Please don’t go,” he choked
out. “Please.”

I placed the money back in the envelope and
slid it across the table to him. Richard let out a huge sigh and
squeezed my hand with conviction. I didn’t know what kind of love
he had for me, but I would accept whatever he had. For what he had
to offer must have offset all of my fears of the terrible
unknown.

Life had finally taken a turn for the better.
I was perpetually happy. The time off from the theater lasted into
early summer, and while Judith was away, Richard and I spent
exclusive time together. We attended plays, dined in fancy
restaurants, visited museums, and he even took me to stay a night
at the luxurious hotel on Brighton Beach. Although we stayed in
separate rooms, as soon as the sun rose we were inseparable. We
strolled along the iron pier that overlooked the beach after a long
day of swimming and sunbathing and ate so much I was barely able to
tie up my corset. I was elated to have my feet back in the sand, my
toes in the chilly Atlantic, and the warm sun on my face.

When we were back at the hotel, Richard
escorted me to the ballroom for dinner and dancing. The looks we
received when he twirled me around the dance floor were mixed. Some
may have recognized me; others wondered what Richard and I meant to
one another. He was too young to be my father; I was too young to
be his mistress.

“They are staring at us again,” I said into
his ear as we waltzed around the gleaming marble floors.

“Everyone stares at you,” he replied. “And I
can’t blame them.”

“Maybe they think I am your young mistress,”
I giggled. I was on a high from his affections as well as my happy
white powders I now took nearly every hour. “Have you taken
mistresses here before?” I boldly asked.

“No.”

“Would you?”

“Possibly, if I were looking for one,” he
replied, and led me back to our candle lit table.

He looked as dapper as ever sitting across
from me with the glow of the flame from the lone candle shining
against the copper in his hair. Most women were easily enchanted
with Richard. I was no exception.

The night ended with another stroll outside.
The surf was rough and the breeze cold. Richard noticed I was
shivering and placed his jacket over my shoulders. Other couples
lingered on the pier, some kissing like typical lovers, others
holding hands and talking. I was pleased just to have the friendly
company of a truly handsome man. I wasn’t looking for him to kiss
me and love me the in the way that got me into trouble long ago. I
began falling in love as I did when I was young. My desires were
the way any young girl’s would typically be. It was the same as
when I was head over heels in love with Heath Dalton - pure,
innocent, and completely harmless.

If Richard thought differently, I couldn’t
tell. He made no advances, other than an occasional brush of his
hand against my breast during a dance or the safe affable kiss
goodnight, every night. I dreaded the day Judith returned, which
would be any day. I hoped she would go straight up to the estate
for the summer, but to my dismay, she came home from England and
fell straight into the arms of her husband.

We had been playing a game of cards when she
flew in like a cold, summer storm. I sank in the chair as I noticed
she had lost weight, significant weight. She was refreshed,
youthful looking, and Richard immediately noticed. “My darling
wife, you look amazing!” he greeted with wide eyes and a warm,
affectionate hug. She gave him kisses on both cheeks and beamed
with delight at his approving response.

“Spas. I went to the finest European spas. Do
I look years younger, Richard?” she begged to know.

“You certainly do. You look no older than
twenty-two,” he told her. His exaggeration sickened me.

“I bathed in tepid waters from ancient
springs that have taken years off, I swear they have. I dined on
the finest European foods, only small, miniscule portions,” she
declared, as she made her way into the parlor and collapsed in the
nearest chair. Richard looked at me, and in his eyes I could see
without question he was telling me he wasn’t going to abandon our
newly found friendship. They still sparkled when they locked mine,
and I knew we could carry on just as we had.

Both Richard and I stayed up late into the
night listening to Judith’s overseas adventures, and though Richard
appeared rather bored, I was thrilled to hear about the places and
people she’d met. I could almost imagine myself right there along
with her, walking along the quaint cobblestone streets of Italy,
dining in fancy French bistros, and visiting England’s royalty. She
described events in detail, and I envied Judith for the first time.
And here she was, looking young and radiant, sitting beside the man
who also slept beside her, at the very least.

When finally she announced she was exhausted
and ready for bed, Richard leapt to his feet, wide-awake, and this
time didn’t say goodnight to me as I had anticipated. I was too
irritable not to spy on them, and wondered if he still wanted and
needed her. Had I fulfilled his every need other than an intimate
one? Could he forsake his manly desires and be truly happy as I was
with a platonic relationship? But then why should he, I asked
myself as I came closer and closer to their suite. After all, he
was her husband.

At their door, I stood and listened with my
ear pressed hard against it. I heard nothing. Not a giggle or a
sensual moan. I was relieved when before I left I heard the
familiar sounds of Richard loud snore. I’d heard it every night we
were on tour.

First thing in the morning, Judith was
anxious to get up to the estate for the first party of the season.
“A grand ball in honor of Sarah’s engagement. And I’m excited for
everyone to see my new figure.”

“Sarah is engaged?” Richard chimed in.

“Last month. All the Van Dorns from far and
wide are coming for the event.”

“She’s quite a catch,” Richard added. Judith
ignored his remark, but I didn’t.

“I think she is too short, and her hair is an
unattractive shade of yellow.”

Judith was displeased with my comments.
“Sarah is a very sought-after woman by the most aristocratic men of
the north. She has an education, and she is breathtakingly
beautiful,” she snapped.

“Lillian is right, Sarah is rather
short.”

Judith left the table in a huff. I was glad
to see she could still be her old, unhappy self on the inside.

“I suppose I’d better see to her,” Richard
said, dabbing his mouth from his morning eggs. As he passed me, he
gave me a kiss on my cheek and told me he would be at opening
night, front row.

Bart Wilco had created a new show, and there
was an air of excitement in the city. It was going to be an instant
hit, according to the critics.

I was looking forward to getting back to
work. I began to crave the laughter, the applause. Richard told me
the theater would eventually grow on me and get under my skin, and
it had. The cast consisted of old and new actors, and still none of
them cared to befriend me. I wanted more than anything to have a
girlfriend, but for one reason or another, they all stayed clear of
me. So when it came time to go to the estate, I was eager to see
Rachael. She was my only real friend. And soon to become a
mother.

Her belly was enormous, so much larger so
than I remembered Opal being. Rachael was due to deliver any day,
and was rather grumpy and tired. I couldn’t blame her, but I missed
her company as she stayed in her suite for most of the weekend of
the engagement ball. I came to see her often and told her stories
of the city and the things Richard and I did together before Judith
came home. It didn’t surprise her to know how fond I was of
Richard. In fact, she seemed pleased.