The Elopement Read Online Free PDF Page A

get a husband, and it had been a waste of time. She felt deflated and foolish. When Mrs. Brown sent her a box of sweets to thank her, she gave them to the maid.
    She began to notice an uncomfortable plasticity in her character. She began to feel that her own will was not strong enough to command her. She tried to view it in a good light—surely there was nothing wrong in being accommodating? But it also made her uneasy in a way she could not explain.
    She and her lover were meeting often now, though she was still very careful not to be seen. She believed she’d been successful. She’d heard not a single rumor, nor caught a single measuring, too-curious glance. When she was with him, she forgot about Amanda Brown and children and the yearning she’d felt at the thought of motherhood. She forgot to lament the weakness she sensed in herself; it only seemed good to surrender to him. She let passion defeat her—when she was with him, nothing else felt real. The rest of the world faded to insignificance, something she could toss away and never miss.
    One day, as they lay tangled in bed together, he said sleepily, “I saw you in the park with Bayley the other day. You looked besotted.”
    She felt uncomfortable, foolish again, tensing in anticipation of whatever cynical comment he might now make. “Besotted?” She tried to say it lightly; she tried not to think of the way Michael Bayley made her laugh. She did not want to hear her lover make fun. She ran her hand through his curls where his head lay cradled on her breast. “Oh, I would not say besotted. Though he’s very amusing. Why shouldn’t I ride out with him?”
    “He’s very amusing,” he mocked, and she could not help but flinch. “Is that what you want? Amusement?”
    “Sometimes,” she said.
    “He’d bore you in a week.”
    “Why do you say that?”
    “Why, because he’s a good man . And good men are for good women. Which you are not.”
    She was a bit offended, though it was hard to stay that way, with his hand moving as it was over her hip, raising little tingles on her skin. “How do you know? Maybe I am good. Maybe I want to be.”
    “You’re not good now. Good women don’t trifle with men the way you do. They don’t ride out in the park and smile as if he’s the center of their universe and then rush to the Fifth Avenue Hotel to take off their clothes for someone else.”
    She went hot. “That’s not—”
    “I know who you truly are,” he whispered. “You don’t want only what society’s willing to give you. You want more.”
    And yes, it was true. When he said it, she did want that. She felt she had the courage to take it.
    He smiled. “And besides, we both know you’re in love with me.”
    That he’d said it so boldly surprised her. She wanted to deny him, to say How arrogant you are. I don’t love you at all. But there was a part of her that had gone hot and goosefleshed at his words, that wanted him to say it over and over again, that wanted what followed such a declaration. The conventions of marriage and commitment. A life beyond a hotel room and hurried fumblings at public affairs.
    She thought he might mock her for it, so she wouldn’t admit it. She twisted a curl of his hair about her finger, pulling a bit. “Do we truly know that? I’m not so certain. How can I be in love with you when I like Michael Bayley so very much?”
    “Better than you like me?” he countered. He lifted his head to look at her, tugging gently from her hold. His eyes were dark. He bent to kiss her collarbone. “Better than you like this?” He kissed her breast. “Or this?”
    And again she was breathless, consumed, addicted. He knew just what to say, what to do. She felt helpless beneath the onslaught of him. “No, not better.” Her voice sounded rasping and strange.
    He whispered, “He’s not clever enough for you. He’s boring and staid. You’ll have two children within two years and join the Ladies’ Benevolent Society.”
    He