The Spring of the Ram - Dorothy Dunnett [55]
She was nervous at first, and pulled away often. Then she grew accustomed to his light caresses and, from agreeable, they became delightful enough to make her head turn and send small convulsions through her body and limbs. When the first large convulsion arrived, she thought something was wrong, and had to be taught how to enjoy it. For a while there was nothing else she could imagine that would give her more happiness, and then she realised that something was lacking still. Her husband’s share, that the women had told her of.
The time had come, she well knew, to think about that. She denied him her bed while she did so, because she was no longer sure any more what she wanted. When a second night passed and she was still unwilling to let him coax her into pleasure, he had drawn back himself and said, “Catherine, Catherine. Do you think I would ever hurry you? Let’s stay friends until you are ready. It’s only…”
“You would like it,” she supplied. She liked to think that he would.
He smiled. “You don’t know, do you, what it means to me? There’s no reason why you should. But no. I can wait. Only Nicholas won’t.”
“Nicholas?” The name, from the past, seemed an idiocy. She stared at him.
He said, “I didn’t mean to tell you. I don’t want you frightened. But he is following.”
“Our Nicholas?” Catherine said. For the first time since Messina, she thought of Nicholas and her mother together. She felt herself turning red, and tears came into her eyes.
Pagano said, in his nicest voice, “You’re quite fond of him really.”
Her breath caught like the clap of a bellows. “I hate him!” she said. “How could he…?”
He stroked her hair while she gulped. He said, “It’s the most extraordinary bad luck. You see, he doesn’t even know you are here. He’s going to Trebizond as I am, on business. They say he’s to be Florentine consul. That means he’ll be there while you and I are at court. Of course, he won’t disturb you; I’ll see to that. He’ll hardly know you, with your gowns and your jewels. And he’ll have to work very hard, I can tell you, to get any business because I mean to take it all. In fact, he won’t like it in the least. Perhaps I should see him at Modon and tell him I’ve married his stepdaughter. Then he’ll be bound to go home to your mother.”
Nicholas and her mother. She said, “No.”
And then he dropped his hands and said, “No. Because he’d try to take you with him and get our marriage annulled. Since we’re not man and wife, you see, Catherine. That is, only on paper.”
She said, “I wouldn’t mind him in Trebizond. He’s only an apprentice.”
“You wouldn’t?” Pagano said. “But you hate hiding. And at Modon, you’d have to stay out of sight. I think I should tell him. Then he’ll go home to Flanders. After all, everyone thinks we are lovers. So will he.” She laid her cheek on his chest. She said, “I couldn’t wear a veil all the time. Not in Trebizond.”
“You wouldn’t need to,” he said. “Once Nicholas has got his cargo that far, he will have to stay until he’s finished his business. And by then he’ll have found out how happy we are. He’ll be in no haste to get back…Catherine, do you really not mind if he sails to Trebizond too?”
“No,” she said. “But I want to be in Trebizond first.”
He laughed. He had wonderful teeth. He said, “And so rather do I. Let’s think how to do it. Shall we? You and I? A little mishap at Modon; a little deterrent at Constantinople. But my Caterinetta must stay out of sight meanwhile. Agreed?”
“Agreed!” she exclaimed.
They played a card game, and then another; and then a tumbling game he had taught her, in which she found herself, as nearly always, in his arms. Then she thought of Nicholas and heard herself saying, “Really, I ought to know. I’m