Chapter 11

We had been tempted to go to our stateroom ever since the liner sailed out from New York. Occasionally, in quiet places, I had caught Vivian in my arms and held her close to me, smelling her subtle perfume which mingled with the warmth of her fresh young body, and rubbing my cheek on her soft blonde hair. Each time I did so, she would wriggle playfully out of my arms and laugh, throwing her hair back and looking at me mischievously with her lovely grey-green eyes. Even then I had not seen her delightful fawn-like body naked, and now the evening had fallen and land was long out of sight and there was nothing but this floating island of music and gay-colored lights which bore us swiftly towards Europe. We had eaten dinner with champagne of a priceless vintage, our private wedding breakfast, and forgotten the elaborate ceremony of the morning in Boston.

"Thank God it's over!" Vivian had breathed afterwards as our black Cadillac shot forward away from the crowds, trailing a string of tin cans.

During the drive from Boston to New York I kissed her until she grew hot and wet with passion, but it would have been improper to make love in front of, or rather behind, the chauffeur who had a good view of us in the rear mirror, and so we desisted, contenting ourselves with interminable teasing which took more out of us than would have the act of love itself.

Now we moved across the deck and stood close at the guardrail. My arm went around her protectively and she gazed up into my eyes. A soft wind blew to us from the sea. We kissed.

"Are you glad?" she asked softly.

"Yes. I thought it would never happen."

"So did I. Time passed so slowly! But then I knew it would be all right when Uncle Elmer married Anna."

"Yes."

"How did that happen, Saul? Did you have anything to do with that?" I laughed and kissed her. "I'll tell you all about it some other time!" She stroked my cheek.

"I think you probably are dangerous, Saul," she whispered lovingly. "Uncle Elmer is always right about these things, but I don't care. I love you more than I ever loved anybody."

"You don't know what a risk you're taking, my darling...."

She stopped my mouth with a kiss.

Awhile later I asked her if she would like a nightcap before we went to bed.

"Oh yes, I would!" she said gaily, and taking me by the hand she led me into the cocktail bar. "See! There are still two stools at the bar. Let's sit there!"

We toasted one another silently.

Vivian finished her drink first.

"I'm going now," she said. "You follow in five minutes."

She wouldn't listen to my protests.

I was left alone.

I had four long months to tell her of the women in the cellar, four months during which I would use every subtlety to make her receive the news without shock or protest. I would be aided by the fact that I doted on her, and that if she loved me now she would be hopelessly in love with me by the time our honeymoon was over.

My mind flashed back to Cliff who would have to control the women by himself during my absence. That was the one disadvantage of Kirstin's death. She was a far more subtle tyrant than ever Cliff could be. Before I had left, however, I had taken Ursula to bed with me three nights in succession and the young girl was now completely under my influence. I had told her that I would be away for four months and that I was depending on her to help Cliff keep everything in order until I returned. She swore she would. But she didn't think there would be any trouble. The girls were happy. She had never heard anyone express the wish to escape.

"You know I do this for your happiness, Ursula darling?" I said softly, stroking her thigh and fingering her sex tenderly. "But if it ever got out, I should get into trouble."

She was breathing heavily, her thick body exuding a hot sweat. Huskily she told me there was no need to worry, that she would see to it personally that everything went smoothly.

I felt better after that. I pushed her thighs open with my knees and sank into her strong, sponge-soft mound up to the hilt.

Cliff told me not to worry. In the three weeks since Kirstin's death he had regained his courage. He knew now that there was almost no possibility of the truth's ever coming out. And he was happier with Kirstin out of the way. He himself was now in complete control except when I was there, and we had on no occasion found anything to quarrel about.

"Good luck!" he said as I took my departure. "I hope it all works out with you, Mr. Folsrom."

"It will, Cliff, it will!"

Nothing had happened to lower my confidence.

Sitting in the bar, twisting my drink in my hands, waiting for five interminable minutes to pass, I only hoped that for his own sake Cliff would never attempt to blackmail me.

A matter of life and death was no problem to me now. One had simply to be careful, to keep one's nerve, and to strike without warning.

Ah! such thoughts on a man's wedding night!

I was married. Vivian was mine. And her fortune. I think it would have been true to say that I should have loved her just as much had she been penniless. But that wasn't so, and for that I thanked my stars.

Another drink?

Yes. I decided to have one more. I ordered it and drank it at a gulp.

I left the bar and made for the stateroom.

Now, I was thinking, now! It was only the beginning.

She would smell fresh as flowers, only warm, womanly.

I knocked at the door.

"Come in!"

She was standing, half shy, half proud in her black nylon negligee. Her blonde hair swept down to her shoulders like a cascade of soft silver. She was wearing high heels.

I crossed the room quickly and held her in my arms.

She pushed me gently away and allowed her negligee to fall off her shoulders like a pool at her feet.

"Am I beautiful?"

My eyes fell from the red-tipped nipples of her soft-lined breasts to the dainty black garter belt slung at her little belly, downwards to the sheer black stockings that clung to the smooth creamy flesh of her thighs.

I glanced up quickly.

In her lovely eyes lurked a knowledge.

I swept her into my arms and carried her across to the bed and a moment later lay naked in her arms, the lights out, and her soft mouth against my own.

I stroked her in silence.

"What would you say if I told you that I have a large cellar at home," I said, "and that the floor is covered with straw on which five naked women sleep, waiting...?"

She laughed softly.

"Only five?" she said, rubbing her warm belly against my own....