“You look lovely, dear,” her mother said, and for the flash of a moment, Jane felt a pang of jealousy for her sister. She was going to have such a glamorous life, and William was such a dashing man. She loved her own husband dearly, but their life was certainly not exciting. But poor Sarah had had such a difficult time before. It was hard to believe that the sad tale had ended so happily for her. It really was a storybook ending. But the story wasn’t over yet either, and she hoped that Sarah would be happy in England with the duke. It was hard to think otherwise, he was so kind, and so handsome. Jane sighed as she looked at them, standing hand in hand, looking blissfully happy.
“Your Grace …” The chief ship’s officer came to the door of their stateroom and discreetly announced that all guests had to be ashore in the next few minutes. The announcement brought tears to Victoria and Jane’s eyes, and Sarah had to fight back tears as she kissed them, and her father, and Jane’s babies. She clung to all of them, and then hugged her father close for a last time.
“Write to me, please … don’t forget … we’ll be back in London just after Christmas.” They were going to spend the holiday on the Continent alone. William’s mother insisted that she had so many things to do at Whitfield that she would scarcely miss them. And William loved the idea of spending Christmas alone with Sarah in Paris.
She put her fur coat back on, and they all went out on the deck where they kissed her again, and shook hands with William, and then Edward shepherded his little tribe down the gangplank. There were tears in his eyes, too, and as his eyes met Sarah’s from the dock, the tears began to slide unrestrained down his cheeks and he didn’t even try to hide them.
“I love you,” she mouthed, waving frantically with one hand, and clinging to William with the other. She blew kisses to all of them as they left the dock in a hail of confetti and streamers, and somewhere on another deck a band played the “Marseillaise,” and as she watched them drift away from her, she knew she would never forget how much they all meant to her at that moment.
William held tightly to her hand until the huge ship began slowly to turn into the Hudson River, and then they could no longer see anyone on the dock. There were tears running down her cheeks, and a sob caught in her throat as he pulled her into his arms again. “It’s all right, darling, I’am here…. We’ll come back to see them soon. I promise.” And he meant it.
“I’m sorry … it seems so ungrateful of me…. It’s just … I love them all so much … and I love you …” So much had happened in the past few days, she was still a little overwhelmed by all her emotions. He led her back to their cabin again, and offered her some more champagne, but she admitted with a tired smile that what she really longed for was a cup of coffee.
He rang for the steward then and ordered coffee for her, and jasmine tea for himself, and a plate of cinnamon toast in lieu of breakfast. And they sat munching and drinking and chatting and soon her grief had ebbed, and she was feeling better. He liked that about her though, that she cared so much, and she was so open about her feelings.
“What would you like to do today?” he asked as he glanced over the menus and the brochures, showing them all the sports and diversions that were offered on the enormous ship. “Want to swim in the pool before lunch? Or have a game of shuffleboard? We can go to the cinema right after tea. Let’s see, they’ve got Marcel Pagnol’s The Baker’s Wife playing, if you haven’t seen it.” In truth, she had, and she had loved Pagnol’s Harvest the year before, but she didn’t care. It was so much fan doing things with him, and she moved closer to look at the brochure with him. She was amazed at how much the French Line offered their passengers, and as she read, she felt him touch her neck, and then his hand slid slowly to her breast, and then suddenly he was kissing her, and the next tiling she knew they were on the bed, and all other forms of diversion were forgotten. It was lunchtime by the time they came to their senses again, and she laughed huskily as she munched on a piece of the cinnamon toast that still sat on a plate near the bed.
“I guess we’re not going to be doing much in the way of sports this trip, eh?”
“I’m not entirely sure we’re ever going to get out of the cabin.” And as though to prove that to him, she teased him again and he took her up on it rather more quickly than she had expected.
They made it all the way to the bathtub after that, and made love again there, and by the time they ventured out again, it was late afternoon, and they were both looking a little embarrassed at the hours they’d kept.
“We’re going to get a hell of a reputation on this ship,” William whispered to her. “It’s a good thing we’ve come over on the French Line.”
“Do you suppose they know?” Sarah looked a little nervous. “After all, it is our honeymoon …”
“Oh God, that’s right. How could I forget. You know, I think I forgot my wallet on the desk. Do you mind if we go back for it?”
“Not at all,” she agreed amenably, but unable to imagine why he needed it here. But he was quite insistent. So she went back to the stateroom with him, and followed him inside. He shut the door as she walked in, and as soon as the door was closed behind them, he grabbed her.
“William!” she squealed, as he laughed, and she began to giggle. “You’re a sex fiend!”
“I’m not … I assure you, normally I’m quite respectable. It’s all your fault!” he said as he devoured her neck and her arms and her breasts and her thighs and even more appealing places.
“My fault? What have I done?” But she was loving every minute of it, as they collapsed to the floor of the sitting room and he began to make love to her again.
“You’re far, far too appealing,” he said as he closed his eyes and entered her while they still had half their clothes on, and lay on the stateroom floor.
“So are you,” she muttered, and then gave a small cry, and it was a long time before they got up again and made it all the way to the bedroom, leaving a trail of clothes in their wake.
They didn’t even bother to go to dinner that night, and when their room steward called them on the phone, offering dinner in their rooms, William declined, announcing mournfully that they were both seasick. He offered crackers and soup instead, but William insisted that they were both sleeping, and after he hung up, the little Frenchman grinned at the maid.
“Mal de mer?” she asked knowingly, wondering if they were seasick, but the little steward winked. He had gotten a good look at them, and knew better.
“Mon oeil. Lune de miel” Honeymoon, he explained, and she laughed as he pinched her bottom.
William and Sarah emerged onto the deck the next morning looking healthy and rested, and William seemed unable to stop smiling at her. Sarah laughed at him as they walked around the deck and settled into two deck chairs.
“You know, people really will know what we’ve been up to if you don’t stop grinning.”
“I can’t help it. I’ve never been so happy in my life. When can we go back to the cabin? I swear, it’s becoming an addiction.”
“I’m going to call the captain if you lay a hand on me again. I’m not going to be able to walk by the time we get to Paris.”
“I’ll carry you.” He grinned as he leaned over and kissed her again. But she didn’t look the least bit dismayed by what had happened. She was loving it, too, and loving him. But that day they made an effort to discover the ship, and managed to stay out of bed until teatime. Then they allowed themselves a brief reward, and forced themselves to get their clothes on again in time for dinner.
Sarah loved going to the dining room on the Normandie. It was a fairyland of elegance, with ceilings three decks high, and the room itself was slightly longer than the Hall of Mirrors at Versailles, and no less impressive. The ceiling was gilt, and on the walls there were columns of soft lighting twenty feet high. They descended an endless, blue-carpeted staircase when they arrived, and William was wearing white tie, as were all the other men.
“Does the fact that we’re eating in the dining room tonight,” she whispered to him, “mean that the honeymoon is over?”
“I was a little bit afraid of that myself,” he confided to her as he devoured his soufflé. “I think we ought to go back to the room as soon as we finish.” She giggled at him, and they managed to stop in the Grand Salon above the dining room and dance for a while, before they took a last walk on the deck and kissed beneath the stars. Then at last they went back to their stateroom. It was the perfect honeymoon, and they had a wonderful time, swimming and walking and dancing and eating, and making love. It was like being suspended between two worlds, their old one and their new one. They tried to stay away from everyone, although most people in first class were aware of who they were, and more than once she heard people whisper as they walked by, “The Duke and Duchess of Whitfield .” “Windsor?” one dowager asked. “She’s much younger than I thought … and better looking …” Sarah had been unable to repress a smile, and William had subtly pinched her and called her Wallis after that.
“Don’t ever call me that, or I shall start calling you David!”
Sarah hadn’t met them yet, but William had told her they would probably have to pay a visit to them in Paris “You might like her better than you expect. She’s not my cup of tea, but she’s really very charming. And he’s happier than he used to be, claims he can sleep now. I suppose I know why.” William grinned. He was sleeping remarkably well himself, in between orgies with his bride.
They dined at the captain’s table on the last night, and attended the Gala. They’d actually gone to the Fancy Dress Ball the night before, dressed as a maharaja and maharani, in costumes loaned to them by the purser, and jewels Sarah had brought along herself. The roles suited them well. William looked very handsome and Sarah looked extremely exotic. But her expertise with her makeup and naked belly had only won her an early return to their stateroom. The stewards were making bets now as to how long they could stay out of bed. And so far, four hours seemed to have been their limit.
“Maybe we should just stay on the ship,” Sarah suggested as she lay in bed, on their last night, dozing sporadically after they’d made love after the captain’s dinner. “I’m not at all sure I want to go to Paris at all.” William had reserved an apartment for them at the Ritz, and they were going to stay there for a month, while taking driving tours around the châteaux outside Paris. They wanted to go to Bordeaux, and the Loire, and Tours … and the Faubourg-St Honoré, she had said with a grin … to Chanel and Dior and Mainbocher … and Balenciaga.
“You’re a wicked girl.” William accused her, as he got back into bed beside her, suddenly wondering if after all this lovemaking for the past week, they might have made a baby. He wanted to ask her about it, but he still felt a little awkward, and finally, later that night, he got up his courage. “You … uh … you never got pregnant, did you, when you were married before, I mean?” He was just curious, and he had never asked her. But her answer surprised him.
“Yes, I did, as a matter of fact.” She said it very softly, and she didn’t look at him as she said it.
“What happened?” It was obvious she didn’t have a child, and he couldn’t help but wonder why. He hoped she hadn’t had an abortion, it would have been so traumatic for her, and might have left her unable to have more children. He had never asked her about that before their marriage.
“I lost it,” she said quietly, the memory of that loss still pained her, even though she knew it was for the best now.
“Do you know why? Did something happen?” And then he realized what a stupid question he had asked her. With a marriage like hers, anything might have happened. “Never mind. It won’t happen again.” He kissed her gently and she drifted off to sleep a little while later, dreaming of babies and William.
The next morning, they left the ship at Le Havre, and took the boat train into Paris, and they laughed and chatted all the while, and as soon as they arrived they went straight to the hotel, and back out again to go shopping.
“Aha! I’ve found something you enjoy doing as much as making love. Sarah, I’m bitterly disappointed.” But they had a wonderful time going to Hermès, and Chanel, and Boucheron, and a handful of small jewelers. He bought her a wonderful wide sapphire bracelet, set with a diamond clasp, and a ruby necklace and earrings that were really stunning. And a huge ruby brooch at Van Cleef in the shape of a rose.
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