Authors: Roberta Latow
“I guessed so. I did it for us both.”
Nicholas went to Arabella and kissed her on the side of the neck. He stopped for a minute and looked over her shoulder. He saw something in the bottom drawer they had not used. He reached around her and pulled out a beautiful pair of lavender jade balls, exquisitely carved as a pair of lovers. One ball depicted the couple having oral sex and the other showed the couple entwined, making love with the woman on top. There was a shiny new silk cord four inches long separating the two balls, and a six-inch cord with a loop on the end hung from one of the balls.
Arabella held out her palm and Nicholas dropped them into it, saying “My God, they’re so beautifully carved! A great work of art and very, very sexy.”
“Will you put them in me now?” asked Arabella.
Nicholas gave her a lustful look and said, “Not now. These are magnificent, probably made for a lady of the court or an empress, and most worthy of being kissed by your luscious vagina. I could place them inside you and you could wear them all day, have delicious little orgasms as they tease and roll around inside you. But I think not. If we get started now with all that, you might have a problem getting through the day!”
“Pity,” said Arabella. “I could have pretended they were your balls, fantasized that I had a part of you inside me, feeling me, giving me orgasms while we stood among the crowd.” She rolled the balls around in her hand, let them click together, and put them back in their place in the erotic treasure chest. She closed the cabinet door and locked it with its original bronze slide lock. Nicholas nipped her on the side of the neck and then licked the sweet flesh.
“Enough,” he said. “Put it with your jewel case and you can carry it with us always. They are, after all, your new interior jewelry!”
“For a New England Puritan, you’re awfully sexy and cheeky!” she said, just as the phone started ringing again.
Arabella picked up the receiver and put it to her ear. Nicholas was getting dressed in front of one of the long
mirrors. He could see Arabella reflected in it as she talked on the telephone. Feeling no need to wear a tie as he had to undress again in a few minutes to shave and change, he rolled it up, put it in his pocket, and adjusted his open collar.
Suddenly he saw Arabella go deathly pale. Concerned, he turned around and went to her. He stood behind her and put his hand on her shoulder to reassure her. He could feel the tension all through her body. He heard her say, “Yes, Anthony.”
Then he understood.
She went on. “What an impossible suggestion, Anthony! Have breakfast with you? I’m not even in New York yet and you’re in London.”
Nicholas, sensitive to the situation, bent down and kissed Arabella on the top of her head and made motions in the mirror that he was going into the drawing room.
Arabella continued with her conversation. “That’s unbelievable, Anthony. How can you possibly be on board?” There was a long pause while Arabella listened to Anthony Quartermaine’s explanation.
Then she spoke. “Please don’t do that, Anthony. I’m not dressed and the cabin is soon going to be full of people, dogs, and birds. The customs men will be here soon.”
She listened and then said, “I certainly am not afraid to see you.”
There was another pause and then she went on. “Well, of course I don’t sound enthusiastic about your dramatic arrival. So much has happened to me since I left France, not the least of which is your delayed announcement of Fiona’s death. You want to both bribe me and marry me, but I mustn’t ask any questions that might embarrass you!”
She listened to him again and then answered, “I don’t know what I expect, Anthony. Silence on both our parts for a very long time, I suppose.”
He spoke at length and then Arabella conceded, saying “All right, I’ll see you. But give me twenty minutes to finish dressing.”
Arabella hung up the telephone and let out a great sigh of relief. She put her hands over her face. She could hardly believe it. Nicholas and the five days on board the S.S.
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, her future, all disappeared from her mind. After all these years Anthony was coming after her, ready to give her what she had always wanted from him: a commitment to an open life together. Now, when it was probably too late to have the children they might have had, be the family they might have been. Now, when someone else had swept her away from him he offered her all.
Arabella lowered her hands away from her face and looked long and hard at herself in the mirror. She shook her head and the lovely gold and silver hair with its well-cut shoulder-length bob fell beautifully into place around her face. She had to keep moving, get through the next few hours with self-possession. This was
her
life. The time was now. No more maybes.
She put the finishing touches to her makeup, then looked critically at herself again in the mirror. She knew that her face was more beautiful, youthful looking, fresh, and alive than it had been for a very long time. She stood up and took off her galabeah. She slipped into a brown silk chemise trimmed in ecru lace, then sat down on the chaise and drew over her long, shapely legs a pair of nylon stockings over which she pulled on a pair of Maude Frisson chocolate-brown suede boots with high heels.
There was a tap on the dressing-room door. Arabella stood up in front of the mirror, a gray suede skirt in her hand, and called out, “Come in.”
Nicholas walked toward her with a reassuring smile. He saw her bite the inside of her lower lip nervously.
He said, “What an outfit! God, you look sexy in those boots! Come on, I’ll help you into your skirt.”
He took the full gray suede Armani skirt and held it open by its waistband for her to step into.
Arabella could not bring herself to say anything. Looking at them both in the mirror, she stepped into the skirt and
adjusted it so that it sat correctly, then she zipped it up. Nicholas walked behind her and kissed her naked shoulder.
He said, “The blouse, darling.”
He saw an edge of anguish in her face reflected in the mirror and he squeezed her reassuringly on her shoulder. Nicholas then turned and picked up the gray suede top with its bat-wing sleeves and a band of chocolate brown around the hem. He unzipped the back and held it up over her head.
He said, “Put your arms up, Arabella.”
She was amazed to realize how comforting it was to hear his voice, calm and reassuring. She came to life and moved as Nicholas put the top on and zipped it up.
“You’re going to knock them dead going down that gangplank. I know just what the gossip columns will say: ‘Arabella Crawford, the reclusive business tycoon, the woman who walked away from the corporate world with millions and, as rumor has it, the future Mrs. Nicholas Frayne, was one of the passengers disembarking from the maiden voyage of that most extraordinary of ships, the S.S.
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. She is a magnificent, mysterious beauty who dresses casually with an elegance and chic we have not seen for a very long time …’ and so on.”
Arabella and Nicholas did not once take their eyes off each other in the mirror while he gave his little review. They both knew that Nicholas was waiting for her to say something.
Arabella raised her hands and adjusted the blouse so that it fell a few inches over the waistband of the skirt. The magnificent engagement ring Nicholas had presented her with the night before sparkled in the mirror. It managed to flash her back to the reality of Nicholas. She turned around to face him. He took her hand in his and pressed it.
He smiled at her and said, “I have to go now. I’ll meet you in the dining room just as we planned.”
He squeezed her hand again and started to leave. Arabella held onto his hand so he turned and looked at her.
She spoke for the first time since he had entered the room. “Nicholas.”
“Yes?”
“That was Anthony Quartermaine on the telephone.”
“I gathered as much.”
“Nicholas, he’s here, on board the
Annanovna
. He took the Concorde from London to New York yesterday and managed to get a lift on the pilot boat this morning. He’s here on our ship!”
“What does he want, Arabella?”
“Me.”
“I take it you haven’t told him about us?”
“No, not all about us.”
“Listen, my love,” said Nicholas. “I understand that you have to see him. I understand much more. Anthony Quartermaine has been the great love of your life, an influence on you for many years. I understood that when you first said there was an unfulfilled love affair that helped drive you on to your phenomenal success. I selfishly held back from asking about him because I didn’t want another man between us. Not even one from the past. But we don’t always get what we want. He is here, in the flesh. Now I have to face his existence. You have a very big decision to make now, though I thought you’d made it last night.”
Arabella began to speak, but Nicholas stopped her by placing his index finger lightly over her lips.
“Shhh,” he said, “don’t say anthing now. I’ll meet you in the dining room at half-past nine, just as we’ve planned. Hey, don’t look so worried. There’s a big, wonderful life out there waiting for us one way or another.”
He gathered up both her hands in his and then turned them over, kissing first one palm and then the other. He hugged her tightly, then smiled at Arabella and walked away.
She felt her heart racing, the adrenaline pumping and the excitement that comes with emotion and change, decisions and going forward.
Arabella then draped half a dozen necklaces of various lengths around her neck. They were all ancient gold necklaces — Egyptian, Phoenician, Roman, Mayan. The gold
against the gray suede enhanced the richness of the metal, the elegance of the shapes, the antiquity and drama of the beads.
Missy and Xu came in with the caged birds and the dogs, who dashed to the dressing table and Arabella. They barked and yelped, jumped and twirled around her until she had petted and played, given all her attention to each one of them.
“They must be so happy to be out of those kennels,” she said to Missy and Xu. The dogs busied themselves sniffing around the dressing room while Missy and Xu congratulated Arabella yet again on her engagement to Nicholas.
Arabella was touched by her two faithful helpers’ sincere wishes. She gave them a smile of appreciation and said, “Missy, Xu, I have something to tell you. Lord Quartermaine is on board. He came on the pilot boat this morning with the customs officials. He knows nothing of my engagement.”
“Oh, my goodness, what are you going to do?” Missy asked.
“I’m going to see him, but I’d like you to stay here in the stateroom while he is with me.”
“We’ll be here,” she said.
“Of course,” seconded Xu.
“Don’t look so worried, Missy. I’ll work it out. It’ll be all right, you’ll see.”
They all continued packing up as Arabella tried to sort out her feelings.
Understanding where her head and heart were vis à vis the two men was not easy. She knew full well that she was in love with Nicholas, that beautiful man who gave her everything without her asking. She knew she wanted to go out into the world with him as her lover, husband, and best friend. Yet there lingered a residue of that total commitment she had made to loving Anthony all those years ago. But Arabella was beginning to see it more clearly as an addiction to loving Anthony, rather than loving the man himself. He was the love affair of a lifetime; Nicholas was the love of
a lifetime. But instinctive understanding did not quell the fire of emotion she felt for the two men.
Anthony’s appearance on board could change everything she thought her future was going to be.
Arabella turned to Xu and said, “Please bring my sable coat and hat to the dining room at half-past ten. I’ll need them to be out on the open deck watching the ship dock.”
The doorbell to the suite rang sharply at that moment and Henry let in Lord Quartermaine, the Earl of Heversham. The dogs sprang to life and started for the drawing room. Outwardly Arabella appeared to be very much in control, but she felt fragile and anxious about the overpowering emotional effect Anthony had always had on her.
She said, “Xu, please get the dogs under control.”
The handsome Chinese man said but one word, “
Leyon
,” in an authoritative but kind whisper. The animals rushed at once to him and sat perfectly still at his feet.
Arabella went to meet Anthony.
Anthony was standing with his back to the drawing room, looking out of the porthole.
Arabella was not sufficiently braced for the impact of his presence nor the effect it had on her. She felt her mouth go dry, her heart pound and tension shoot through her spinal cord at such a speed she felt a stiffness in her neck. She was short of breath and wanted to scream at the same time. Instead she bit the inside of her lower lip, closed her eyes for a second, and took a deep breath. That brought back a measure of control and before it disappeared again, she spoke.
“Hello.”
He turned quickly and started toward her, saying “What an extraordinary place for us to meet! Hello, Arabella.” He extended his arms as if to greet her with a hug. She managed to bypass them, and as she walked farther into the room, she was startled to see how much he had changed. In her mind’s eye she had been picturing the Anthony she had first known in Alexandria. But this man was different, not simply older with a few more gray hairs, but there was something tense and desperate about him. Where was the authoritative, aristocratic manner he used to have? He was certainly still handsome, but she sensed a new air of pomposity and suspected that he was trying to hide the fact that he knew he was not, for the first time, in absolute control of her.
“You look so beautiful, so very, very beautiful,” he said.
Arabella heard the signs of intense emotion in his voice and saw in his eyes what could have been held-back tears. She went to the porthole and looked out toward New York. It was snowing; great sheets of heavy white snowflakes
swirled past and dissolved from the salt air as they landed on the deck.
“How extraordinary,” she said. “It was snowing when I left Paris and now, three thousand miles and six days later, it’s snowing on my arrival in New York.”
He said, “I can’t believe you’re here.”
She turned from the window and they looked at each other. For a fleeting moment the years seemed to melt away, and for a split second they were together as if they had never been parted.
Anthony asked, “May I sit down?”
“Yes, of course, Anthony, please do sit down. Can I get you something, a cup of tea, a glass of champagne?”
“No, nothing. Just come and sit near me and let me look at you. You seem very much changed to me. Changed and, if possible, more exciting.”
Arabella sat down in the easy chair opposite him. She said, “Two years is a long time, Anthony. Two long years it has taken you to ring my doorbell.”
Anthony said, “Arabella, please, come sit near me. Two years
is
a very long time, long enough. Don’t be silly. I can hardly see you across the room through all these flowers.”
“How are your children? They must be very grown up now.”
“Yes, very grown up except, of course, for the last one, Chisholm.”
“Oh, yes,” she said, “Chisholm would be eight years old now,” the gorge rising in Arabella as she spoke. To herself she said, Oh, yes, Chisholm. The reality of the big lie that Anthony and Fiona no longer slept together, that their marriage was no more than a social and marital arrangement on paper only.
Arabella tried to contain her anger as she asked, “And Heversham Park? Glorious Heversham Park?”
“Thriving, beautiful.”
“And Fiona? Or do I take it that I’m not to ask anything about Fiona and her demise?”
“I never said that. It’s quite natural you would want to
know about her death. Fiona died after being thrown by her horse during a hunt. She was riding with the Belvoir. It was icy, the horse slipped, but Fiona, a brilliant horsewoman, took the jump, in this case a fatal miscalculation. The horse’s leg broke and Fiona suffered a fractured skull. She died on the way to the hospital.”
The coldness with which he catalogued his wife’s death gave Arabella the impetus to press on.
“Why are you here, Anthony?”
“I want you to come away with me, Arabella. I want to take you home. Home, Arabella, back to England. I want to marry you.”
Every word she had longed to hear for so many years hit her like so many darts piercing her skin. Arabella was bleeding.
Henry came in at that moment with a tray.
“Just leave it please, Henry. I’ll serve, thank you.” Arabella reached for the jug of peach juice, praying that Anthony would not see her hand trembling.
“No, please allow me. I still remember how you like them.” He prepared the drink for her, filling the Baccarat crystal champagne glass half with peach juice and half with champagne. He handed it to her.
Arabella took the drink gratefully, much relieved to quench the dryness of her mouth. She looked at him and recognized the lust and desire he still had for her.
“They were long and lonely, those years without you, Anthony. Your friendship, at least, would have eased the pain of our situation. I needed friendship, a closeness between us, but you offered me none.
“Now I’m allowed to come out of exile because your wife has had the good grace to die an accidental death, setting you free with your honor intact, having been a good and faithful husband to the end.”
Arabella picked up her glass and drank.
Anthony chose to disregard her words. He said, “I want what we have had all these years. What we
still
have. That’s why I’m here.”
“Why now? It’s three months since your wife died. Why now and not three months ago? Didn’t you think enough of our friendship to let me know Fiona was dead?”
“Three months ago you were an executive whirling around the world making money. When I heard of the business coup that jolted the international stock markets, I knew you were behind it. I was delighted for you,
am
delighted for you now. I thought if I came to you then and asked you to marry me, you would have been terribly torn. I knew that if you had pulled out of business, as you always said you would if we could have been together, that was the worst possible moment for you to do it — just as you were riding highest. And I couldn’t bear the thought of you turning me down. Now that you’ve retired, it seemed quite natural to assume we would marry.”
Arabella was speechless. Anxiety flooded over her. Anger mixed and mingled with memories of the utter devotion she had given their love. He had been her first priority and she his last. He was setting her up again in the same way, except this time he proposed marriage. What could she say? Her tongue was tied with heavy cords of emotion.
Arabella rose and Anthony followed, taking her hand in his, ignoring the engagement ring, just as he had ignored the existence of Nicholas Frayne.
“Look, Arabella. This meeting is a shock for both of us, but I’m very uncomfortable here. Let’s go upstairs, my dear. We’ll have breakfast and we can make plans for our future, where we are going, what we are going to do —”
He was interrupted by a knock on the stateroom door. The dogs started to bark. This gave Arabella the opportunity to call for Xu.
From that moment the drawing room filled rapidly with people. The Immigration Officer and customs official appeared, ready to check passports, luggage, dogs, birds, and people.
“Anthony, I need some time to finish a few things here. You go on ahead. I’ll meet you in the reception area of the dining room as quickly as I can.”
She walked him to the door and politely but firmly saw him out. She introduced Missy to the officials and then hurried to the privacy of her bedroom.
She closed the door and went immediately to the telephone to call Nicholas.
He answered and Arabella said, “Oh, Nicholas, I’m so relieved I caught you. Are you through with the customs officials?”
“Yes, I have been for about fifteen minutes. Are they with you now?”
“Yes, they are, Nicholas. I’m on my way to the dining room.”
“I’ll see you in five minutes then, Arabella.”
“Nicholas,” she said apprehensively, “I’ve seen Anthony briefly. He wants to have breakfast with me.”
“Oh.” There was a moment of hesitation, then he went on. “That’s no problem, Arabella. They can set another place for him at our table.”
A vulnerable, nervous Arabella suddenly felt sad at the mere sound of Nicholas’s voice. Then he hung up.
She could not believe this was happening: breakfast with both Anthony and Nicholas. Arabella picked up her large, dark-brown Hermès alligator handbag and slipped it on her shoulder. She checked herself in the mirror and looked around the suite for the last time, then thanked the officials for their kindness. After giving last-minute instructions to Missy, she left.
Arabella found Anthony standing alone among some of the other passengers. He still had a debonair look that made him attractive. He certainly appeared happier than he had been in her cabin.
She went up to him, saying “Sorry to have kept you waiting, Anthony.”
“Well, I daresay I have kept you waiting a great deal longer! But that’s all over now. Come along, I’ll buy you a super English breakfast.”
“Anthony,” she said, releasing herself from his arm, “I’ve asked a friend of mine to join us for breakfast.”
Anthony looked at Arabella, raised an eyebrow, and said, “Was that necessary? We have plans to make.”
“I told you I have a friend named Nicholas Frayne.”
“Your movie star. I would have preferred this breakfast reunion to have been just the two of us. But if you find it necessary for us to meet, I suppose I can handle it.”
At that moment, Nicholas arrived and Arabella introduced them.
Her heart froze, her emotions were numb. The men exchanged a few pleasantries with each other, but she couldn’t hear them. She felt as if she were swimming under water and everything was moving in slow motion. She floated with them into the dining room, thinking how bizarre it was that her past and her future should meet like this. People in the restaurant kept intruding on the three to say farewell to Arabella and Nicholas, and she nodded and smiled appropriately. Yes, she thought, Anthony is my past and Nicholas is my future. I’m sure of that. Very sure.
Sitting between the two men at breakfast, Arabella was highly anxious though outwardly she was in complete control of herself and her position. She listened to the two men talking to each other about Concorde, the S.S.
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, the dining room, the menu, the weather. She watched them as if they were performers on a stage doing a play just for her. They were fencing, using their conversation as swords. They were like two duelists — one man would win, the other be left wounded. Just as for duelists, the reason for the combat, Arabella, was far less important than the challenge between the two men.
As an escape, to try to calm herself, Arabella watched the snowstorm swirling around the ship. She was drifting between long-time love, Anthony, who still had some power to rekindle the old flame, and a new love, Nicholas, who had flared up quickly in her life and burned brightly.
Not many women are made to watch a duel between their lovers, and Arabella was not enjoying it one bit. She was
engrossed in her own thoughts, but her ears perked up when she heard Anthony say, “The cinema. What an extraordinary way to live, playing in the cinema! It must be very amusing always using someone else’s character to live behind.”
Arabella recognized the smooth, elegant English put-down and looked at Nicholas, who gave Anthony his most devastating, handsome, open smile. He looked across the table at Arabella with slow sexy eyes and then turned his attention back to Anthony.
“Oh, yes, Lord Quartermaine, you have no idea what a luxury it is. It allows one to work out the inner feelings of the character one is playing. Why, I’ve even played an English lord in one of my films. It gave me the chance to shoot grouse.”
Arabella had to keep from laughing at this jab of Nicholas’s. He continued speaking while Arabella drifted again. Anthony’s world was one she didn’t belong in. She wanted to go home, to America, after all these years away. Aristocracy held no special mystique for her anymore. The honesty, warmth, and laughter she had had with Nicholas was something to be treasured, nurtured. Anthony had meant well, or at least in his mind he had, in concealing Fiona’s death, but it was so symbolic of the way his mind worked — and now it seemed unnatural and manipulative to Arabella. She was beginning to feel sad for Anthony, for he had never, and probably would never, have a relationship like the one she had with Nicholas — totally open and spontaneous.
Dishes rattled around her, bringing Arabella out of her reverie once more. Suddenly she realized that she was ravenous. The coffee smelled wonderful and the Eggs Benedict looked divine. She began eating with great gusto when Nicholas said, “Arabella, those eggs must be stone cold.”
She looked at his plate, then at Anthony’s. Clearly they had finished eating some time ago while she had been daydreaming. She looked at him, and as she began eating said, with a big grin, “When you find a good egg, you’ve got to hang on to it. No matter what!”
Nicholas smiled back and understood he had won.
The three were then interrupted by the arrival of Xu, who brought Arabella’s coat and hat. He drew an empty chair from the next table and placed her things on it.
“Will there be anything else, Miss Crawford?” he asked.
“No, nothing. Thank you, Xu. I’ll meet you all on the boat deck.”
Then they were interrupted by Missy who excused herself, went to Arabella, opened a red Moroccan leather loose-leaf notebook, and asked, “What would you like me to do about these two things, Miss Crawford?”
Arabella read, Would you like me to disappear with Xu and the animals or does the plan remain the same?
Arabella took the felt-tip pen from Missy’s hand and wrote, We all leave the ship together.
Then she read, Have you any last-minute instructions?
Arabella looked up at Missy, smiled, and wrote, No, nothing for the moment, and handed the book back to her.
Now, feeling quite in charge of herself and her emotions, Arabella felt she should guide this meeting to some kind of graceful end. Abruptly she stood up and, picking up her coat and hat, swinging her handbag over her shoulder, she said, “Gentlemen, there is a lady I’d like you to meet. Follow me.”