The Letter (25 page)

She smiled and stretched wondering how William could be up so early after the antics of the previous night. Just as he promised, they had washed together inside of the giant tub filled with bubbles in the master bathroom. They touched, explored and made love more times than she would ever admit between the bath and this morning.

Turning on her side she rested her cheek on the pillow and stared through the doorway of the bathroom to the stained glass window aglow in sunlight. Bursts of color painted the tile floor.

Outside she could hear the low murmur of voices and the occasional clanking of metal. It was late in the summer and the process of picking the grapes and turning them into wine had already began.

His promise of a tour motivated her to lazily move from the bed to the modern tiled bathroom.

After a wash and dressing in one of her cotton calicos Victoria left the room in search of food. Victoria declined the full breakfast in favor of a delectable chocolate filled pastry and assorted fruit. When she was finished with her tasty small breakfast, she wandered outside into the bright sunshine.

There was an army of men wearing straw hats busily picking grapes at an astounding speed throughout the rows of vineyards as far as she could see. There was still a light mist in the air and an earthy smell was mixed with the sharp smell of ripe grapes.

Fascinated by all the industry going on around her, Victoria walked into the vineyard. As she passed, the men looked up and smiled at her and she smiled back.

“
Are you planning to help?” The rich timbre of William’s voice came from behind her.

Turning, she faced him, blushing as the memories of the previous night rushed out between them.

“
I might like to try it for a while, just to see what it is like.”

William somehow managed to look elegant dressed in rugged work clothes of a coarse plain blue shirt, that was unbuttoned to the middle of his damp chest and pants made of a new fabric called denim, that hugged his muscled thighs. Victoria halted her wandering gaze just as she found the dark hair curling inside of his unbuttoned shirt.

“
What exactly are you doing out here?” she asked, smiling even though the evidence of this morning’s exertions was a fine sheen of sweat on his forehead and the clinging dampness of his shirt.

“
I am working, of course. Come, I’ll show you.”

Taking her hand, William led her down the row of grapes where he had been working. He stopped at a grape plant picking one of the fat grapes from the heavily laden plant. He examined it, squeezed it, and smelled it before biting it in half. He gently pushed the other half of the grape into her mouth with a slow, tantalizing precision, while his eyes simmered into hers.

Her lips puckered around the bitter tasting grape.

“
So you get to go around tasting,” she said, after she had swallowed her half of the grape. He smiled at her sour expression.

“
I help here and there…get involved in the process, and of course I must taste the grapes,” he said as they moved on down the path between the vines. “But today I am developing some techniques that I learned about in a recent visit to France.

“
In a few years, I will have some very fine wine.” As they walked, his eyes scanned the fields with obvious pride. “Later we will go down to my cellar and you can try a little of the wine we made two years ago. I particularly liked that season but am curious to have you taste it and tell me what you think.”

“
I would like that very much. The only thing I have ever made is a bit of apple cider.”

They walked for a while, stopping every so often to say hello to a worker or to taste a grape. Victoria didn’t have a clue as to what the grapes for wine should taste like, but William seemed pleased with them.

Even in the shade of her bonnet the sun felt hot, but Victoria’s intrigue of the wine making process made her immune to the heat. While they walked, William educated her more fully by explaining some of the techniques he had learned from the French and Italians.

When they finished the private tour early in the afternoon, William took Victoria to a cellar below the house to sample the wine. The cellar, which actually extended far beyond his house underground, was filled with oak barrels that lined the long hallways that went to dark oblivion. A provocative damp musty fruity smell clung to the heavy air adding coziness to the barrel filled room.

A servant in some preplanned expedition had spread out cheese, bread and two wine goblets on an upturned barrel covered with flat board and covered with a white, linen tablecloth. Two wooden stools stood next to the quaint makeshift table. In the center of the rough table a lit candle stood jutting out of an empty wine bottle casting a warm glow over the dimly lit cellar.

Off of the main cellar was a small cave with racks of stacked wine bottles. Taking the candle from the table William went into the cave-room and emerged smiling and holding a bottle of wine. Pouring two glasses of a clear, golden wine, William handed one of the delicate glasses to her. He took the other glass of wine and lifted it into the air in a toast.

“
Here’s to the most beautiful woman in the world, who has been gracious enough to bestow her company on the luckiest man alive,” William saluted in a low voice while tilting his glass to touch it with hers with a delicate clinking noise. Victoria blushed at his words and took a sip of the wine hiding her eyes from his intimate probing gaze.

His words that could fool a woman into believing he was a man in love brought equal amounts of joy and pain sifting through her. But he did not love her, and when he had slaked his lust for her, she would not be the most beautiful woman in the world anymore. And William would cast her aside and marry his beautiful bride.

Victoria shook off her gloomy thoughts. All she had was this moment and these memories, and she had to make them last a lifetime.

They ate the cheese and drank his delicious wine while discussing wine making. As she tasted the delicious bloom of flavor Victoria decided that nothing had ever tasted as good as this light-fruity-heady concoction that came from one of these barrels.

Soon, the bottle was gone and another opened. They discussed many topics, including hilarious stories of William’s childhood that Victoria particularly enjoyed.

“
One time, when my mother had a dinner party, it was a big affair, mind you… I was told to stay up in my bedrooms. Well, you can guess that didn’t last. When the party was in full swing, I snuck down the steps and started stealing food — especially sweets — from the table, then hiding under the table to enjoy the stolen bounty. But one time, when I was making a grab for the chocolate cake, I almost got caught, and in my rush to get back under the table I pulled the tablecloth with such force that it brought all of the food onto the floor with a giant crash,” he said, his laughter filling the musty room.

Victoria could not hold back her own giggles. “You were in such trouble!”

“
I was in such trouble.”

When their laughter quieted, William reached out and gently tugged Victoria close to him and rested his finger under her chin to coax her to look up at him.

“
You are good for an old man, Victoria,” he whispered, his eyes going a smoky gray. “I am so happy you came to me on that train.”

Victoria stared up at him for a moment. His sincere words touched her deeply, but she could not find words to respond.

“
Are you happy you came to me, Victoria?” he asked, his eyes probing hers drawing her to him and surrounding her with chains that would forever bind.

“
I am happy I came,” she answered. “But please do not ask me to give you more than that.” She would not tell him she savored each moment as if it were their last. Or that each time he loved her she died a small death. Or that each word he spoke would be etched in her memory for a lifetime.

“
Victoria, you must know you have pleased me far beyond my expectations,” he continued, his voice low and husky sending thrilling tremors through her. “Yes, that is my job…to please you.

“
You have pleased me,” he confirmed again in a voice that was little more than a whisper. “But I want so much more than that. I want all of you.”

His lips came down on hers slowly. Their eyes were still locked as he touched her lips gently. It was as if he searched for the truth through his touch. She opened her lips to him and trembled under the fierceness of the feelings between them.

“
Tell me you are happy to be mine,” he demanded in a low whisper. “I want to hear you say it. I want to know if you feel the feelings I feel. I want you — all of you— not just what you give me when we make love. I want you to admit you are fully mine, not because of what I will give you, or our deal, but because it is what you want.”

She looked away from him, tears stinging behind her eyes.

“
Please, stop it William! You are going to be married, yet you are asking me to give something that I can’t give.” She jerked away from his touch giving her back to him.

“
What does that have to do with anything?” he asked his voice harsh.

She turned to him, anger and hurt firing her blood.

“
What has your marriage got to do with it? It has everything to do with it. When you are married, I will be home again and this moment will be forgotten,” she said with a tremor in her voice.

“
Yes, of course, you cannot wait to get home…to your store, I had hoped you might change your mind over time. But maybe you will want to stay with me after I am married,” he suggested, smiling a dazzling smile. When she opened her mouth to protest, he stopped her by adding, “Don’t say no yet, we still have time for me to persuade you.”

“
You said I had pleased you,” she whispered. “That is all I must do, nothing more, nothing less. I will please you . . .”

“
You already do please me, sweetheart, more than you could possibly understand. But I must have all of you.”

He swept her up, then strode to the cellar steps.

At the top of the stairs, he kicked the cellar door open and walked inside the house to the main stairway and up the steps. By the time they reached the bedroom he was devouring her with his lips.

He made love to her that afternoon with a fierce possessiveness, teasing and pleasuring her until she cried for mercy.

“
Say you are mine,” he whispered in her ear each time he took her to the pinnacle, holding her on the edge until she answered him with the words he wanted to hear.

“
I am yours,” she replied gasping as she titled over the edge. Then the world would explode and she would tumble to the earth again, tears of pleasure running down her face. He would kiss her tears and whisper gentle words before coaxing her back up to the brink of pleasure and release once again.

And during those long hours of the afternoon, she did belong to him, time and time again.

As afternoon gave way to evening, Victoria lay exhausted and satiated in his arms. However, in the far reaches of her mind, she still clung to her vow to hold some of herself back.

The next day, they returned to San Francisco. Victoria knew from his quiet, rigid profile on the return trip home that he knew she had not surrendered to him. And in that notion, she found some solace.

CHAPTER 21

Dearest Victoria,

I hope this letter finds you well. I wept when I read your letter, I miss you so. There is so much I want to tell you, so much I wish to ask. You say you care for this man, but I wonder if you have not done this for me, and for Johnny. I pray God this is not the case. You know we could have managed somehow.

This Mr. Worthington, must be a very rich man as there has been a very great sum deposited into our account. It’s hard to believe someone would have so much money to just give away. I have paid off everything we owed with the money that you sent.

When will you come home? I think about you every day and wonder what you are doing. Where do you stay? What is Mr. Worthington like? You have told me so little. Please write to me, dear sister, and tell me how you are.

Love Always,

Mandy

Victoria carefully and lovingly folded the letter and tucked it into the desk drawer.

Part of her had been afraid of what good, pure and kind Mandy would say. Mandy would never have sold her soul to the devil. And certainly not her body. Not for any price. Victoria was so relieved, but not surprised by Mandy’s reaction. Mandy would never judge — that was just the sort of person she was.

Pulling out her pen and stationery, she began her response letter. There were no secrets between she and Mandy, they had been close all of their lives. It felt good to confide in Mandy and to know that no matter what sin she committed, someone in the world loved her anyway.

Dear Mandy,

I was so happy to hear from you, I wasn’t sure how you would feel about what I have done, but I should know you are too kind to judge me. I would give anything to have you here so that I might give you a giant squeeze and tell you everything I think and feel.

I live in a beautiful house on a giant hill that has a breathtaking view of the San Francisco Bay. I have fine clothes, jewelry and even my own maid. I have everything I could ever possibly dream of having, except to be there with you and Johnny.