Nellie (The Brides of San Francisco Book 1) (11 page)

“What is destitute?” he asked before he took a bite of his oatmeal.

“It means without support. I would have had to leave you and Violet with your grandparents and go find work that probably would not support us all. That would be wonderful for your grandparents, but I couldn’t have borne it.” She shuddered at the thought. “I wanted us all to be together and so I married Blake.”

“Why do you sleep with him now? We can’t come in and see you or sleep with you when we’re scared because of him.”

He set down his spoon and, frowning, put his elbows on the table and his chin in his hands.

She hadn’t seen him pout in a long time, but thought he was entitled. Losing his father had been hardest on Henry. Over the years, she had a niggling of what kind of man Robert really was. It was hard for her to believe that every woman suffered as she did, but having no female friends, she wasn’t sure. Even if she’d loved him, which she didn’t, she never have missed him like Henry did.

“Henry, all you have to do is knock on the door. I’m still here for you whenever you need me. I sleep with Blake because that is what married people do. Remember when your father was alive? I slept with him, too, and you couldn’t come in without knocking then, either. Remember?”

He nodded.

“This is no different than it was then. What is really bothering you?”

“You’re forgetting Daddy,” he blurted out. “I don’t want another daddy.”

Ah, the truth comes out.
“And you don’t have one. Blake is not trying to take your father’s place. You know that.”

“But Violet calls him Daddy and he’s not. I’ll never call him Daddy.”

Nellie was surprised at the vehemence her son possessed. And the fear he was displaying. They’d been there more than a month, and this was the first that he’d spoken of missing his father. She’d thought he’d healed and only thought of Robert sporadically. But she was wrong. Robert was on Henry’s mind a lot, apparently.

“No one is asking you to call Blake, Daddy. Violet does because she never had a father before. Your father managed to get himself killed before Violet ever knew him.”

“He didn’t die on purpose, Mama.”

“I know he didn’t.”
But I couldn’t be happier that he’s dead, now that I know what he did to me isn’t normal. Your father was a bastard, a monster.
“But that is neither here nor there anymore.” She straightened. “I’ve made my decision about this and I married Blake. I’m very happy with that decision, and so is Violet. You don’t have to be, but I wish you’d try. Blake is a good man, and even if you can’t find it in your heart to love him, you should respect him and emulate him.”

Henry squinted his eyes. “What does emulate mean?”

“It means you should be like him. I’m saying you should grow up to be like Blake. He’s a caring man and a good example for you.”

Henry nodded his understanding.

Although he still pouted, Nellie could also see he was weighing her words in comparison to what he knew about Blake.

Finally, he said, “I’ll try, Mama.”

“That’s all I ask Henry.”

He seemed to be comforted, because he came and gave her a hug before he turned and left her, without a pout on his face.

*****

That night, Nellie readied for bed in her flannel nightgown. No need to put on her silk one since Blake would not be coming to her tonight. In a way, she would miss him. She’d grown accustomed to having him to hold, resting her head on his arm while she played with his chest hair. Or spooning with him behind her, molding his body to hers. Oh well, there would be nights that he would not be with her and she should get used to it.

Hours later, she woke to the most delicious sensations. Her nipples were hard and the pulling on her center was most pleasant. She felt Blake at her breast and knew he hadn’t stayed away.

“You’re awake. Good. I like to make love to a conscious woman.”

“I thought you were staying in your room tonight.” She found her fingers ran through the hair at the nape of his neck, of their own accord, letting it curl around them.

“You thought wrong.”

He kissed her between her breasts, then moved ever upward over her neck, to her chin and then to her lips.

“You said…”

“Nothing.
You
said I would sleep in my room. I never agreed. I like sleeping with you or more precisely, I like making love to you, with you as a willing participant.”

“And if I’m not willing?”

“Then we don’t make love, but your body has to tell me it’s not willing. Not your words.”

She took a deep breath and let it out. “Then I shall never be unwilling. The things you do to my body…they only make me want more, and you know it.”

He chortled softly. “I know.”

His fingers pressed down on her mons and into her.

Pulse racing, she sucked in a breath. “Blake!” She closed her eyes and moaned. “God, what you do to me.”

He took her to oblivion and beyond before guiding her back to earth.

Nellie never knew how much pleasure there was to be had through the act of making love, but Blake was a patient teacher. “I want you to make love to me. All the way. I want to know what pleasure can be had in the act.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want to force you into anything.”

She touched his lips with hers. “I’m sure.”

He stood and shucked his clothes in what must have been record time, and then was back with her on the bed. He rested between her spread legs and looked at her.

Unable to stop, she braced for the pain, grabbing the sheets in tight hands.

“Why are you grimacing? Don’t you remember what I said? No pain ever again.” He smiled. “I promise.”

He stroked her and built the fires within her again to the point of no return, and then he was at her entrance, his member pressing against her opening. Slowly he slid into her a short way and stopped.

“Are you alright? Are you having any pain?” The words came out of him in a guttural groan.

“No. I’m fine,” she said, amazed at the sensation and that he’d taken the moment to ask. “Please continue.”

Smiling, he plunged into her, embedding himself to the hilt. Fully, completely. Then he stopped and held perfectly still.

She saw the beads of sweat run down his temples.

“Blake?”

“And now? Are you having any discomfort?

“Only when you stop. I like the way you feel, I’m full and it’s wonderful, now move.” She thrust up her hips.

“Yes, ma’am,” he ground out. “Your wish is my command.”

He pulled out and then plunged back in. In and out. Again and again.

She found her rhythm quickly and worked with him, so he filled her completely with each movement in. She was becoming frantic, she scored his back with her nails, and pressed her head into the pillow.

“Please!” she begged.

He put his weight upon one arm and took his other hand, reached between them and manipulated her pleasure bud.

At his touch, she burst into a million shiny pieces, better than the first time because, after she did, so did he.

He groaned, shouted her name pumped hard, harder than ever before and she could feel his hot seed within her. He buried his face in the soft area between her neck and her shoulder. He laid there for a few moments, breathing hard. Then he raised his head and kissed her soundly.

“Did you have fun? Was the coupling pleasant for you?”

He had a grin on his face like the cat that ate the cream. He knew it was the most wonderful experience she’d ever had, but he had to hear it and maybe, she needed to say it.

“It was wonderful. I’ve never felt…
never
had pleasure like that, but, of course, you already know that.”

“I do.”

He pulled out of her, rolled to his back and brought her with him.

“I just wanted to hear you say it. I had to know you enjoyed the act and that you want to do it again.”

“Oh yes, I definitely want to do it again. But you weren’t supposed to sleep here tonight. I was quite angry with you this morning.”

“I know. And now? Are you still angry?”

“No. How can I be angry when I feel so good?” She rolled away, crossed her arms over her bosom. “It’s not fair.”

He laughed heartily and pulled her back against him.

“You’re a surprise, Nellie. A wonderful surprise. Now turn over and go to sleep. Morning comes early and so do the little ones.”

She grunted and begrudgingly turned on her side and let him spoon with her. She was still mad, but she couldn’t help but smile. He must have felt her do it because he squeezed her closer and kissed her neck.

“Sleep, sweetheart. You’ve earned it.”

She closed her eyes, but sleep failed her and she lay awake for hours, trying to understand the man she married. He was kind and loving to the children and to her, but he was also distant.

He wouldn’t confide in her about his business and she found it frustrating as hell.

*****

A knock sounded on the parlor door.

“Enter.” Nellie looked up from the novel she was reading.

“Madam, there is a gentleman to see you,” James held up a card and read from it. “Mr. Adolphus Balfour, Attorney-at-law. From New York.”

“Show him in, please.” Nellie patted her hair to make sure is was in place and waited for the gentleman.

James returned with a tall, slender man sporting full sideburns and mustache that grew into one another so it looked like he had a beard but just over his upper lip. His chin was bare. He wore a dark brown suit that matched his hair and a black bowler hat.

“Mr. Adolphus Balfour, of New York, at your service, Mrs. Malone.” He walked to where Nellie stood by the settee, her book open on the seat. He took her outstretched hand and shook it precisely twice, then released her.

“Please Mr. Balfour, be seated.” She picked up her book and stashed it in her knitting basket at her feet.

“Thank you, ma’am.”

He waited until Nellie sat before sitting on the end of the settee away from her.

“What can I do for you, sir?”

“I’m here on behalf of Mr. R. Edward Wallace, Senior, your father-in-law.”

“My former father-in-law,” corrected Nellie.

“Yes, ma’am, I misspoke. “

“What does Edward want?” Her heart began to pound.

“Your former mother-in-law, Edith Wallace has passed away and Mr. Wallace desires to see his grandson, Henry Wallace, who is his heir.”

A frisson of fear climbed her spine. “Why would Edward need an attorney in order to see Henry? Why not just come himself?”

“As you know, he is quite feeble and is unable to make the long journey required. He wishes for Henry to come to see him, perhaps to live and go to school in New York.”

Nellie’s ire rose, but her voice remained controlled. “I’m not sending my son to live with his grandfather. We escaped that situation once, I won’t be put in that position again, nor have my children put in that position.”

“Mr. Wallace was afraid that would be your reply and asked me to give you this letter.”

She took the envelope from him and put her finger under the wax seal and opened it. She unfolded the letter and began to read:

July 2, 1867

My dear Nellie.

As Mr. Balfour has no doubt told you, Edith died. I understand that life was difficult for you when you lived here before. I can promise, if you return with the children, that will no longer be the case. I’m prepared to offer to raise and educate both Henry and Violet and for you to serve as my hostess so you can, of course, be with them.

Edith may have been many things, but she did give me a son. Robert. Your husband. He was my heir and now that he’s gone, Henry is my only heir.

I can offer both the children a life that your current situation cannot. They will be welcome in all the best colleges, drawing rooms and boardrooms. All doors will be open to Henry and Violet will make the best marriage possible. Can you say your husband can offer the same advantages?

Please think on my offer.

Sincerely,

Edward

Nellie’s hand shook. “Mr. Balfour, I believe you should leave.”

“Is there a response that you wish me to convey?”

She swallowed to keep the tremor from her voice. “Not at this time. I will have to get back to you. Are you staying locally?”

“I’m at the Hotel Francisco.” He stood and put on his hat. “I’m there for the next five days.”

Nellie stood. “I’ll have a response for you before the time you must leave. I’ll have James show you out.” She walked to the pull cord on the wall by the door. James responded almost instantly. Nellie knew he’d stationed himself outside the door for her protection. “James, please show Mr. Balfour out.”

“Yes, Mrs. Malone. This way, sir.”

“Good day, Mr. Balfour.”

“Madam.” He tipped his hat.