A Night at the Opera

Chapter 8: Michaelmas

William’s absence was almost unbearable for Emily. He wrote to her on several occasions, and this time she was very prompt with the response.

To occupy herself she spent lots of time visiting her cousin Louisa, who had given birth to a healthy boy. Little Phillip was the apple of Louisa’s eye and Emily saw the happiness and fulfillment a family could  bring to a woman’s world. She longed for a day when she too would know the joy of motherhood.

“Do you think you’ll have more children, Louisa?” asked Emily, sipping tea in her cousin’s drawing room.

“Well, I had always imagined I would have a little girl,” answered Louisa wistfully. “Henry would have me with child each year if it were up to him, but I think it’s unsightly for people to multiply like livestock. I shall consider having another child perhaps in two years, but only one more. I’d like to keep my figure, Emi. I shan’t allow for my waist to become indistinguishable from my hips,” she added.

“But how can you be sure that you won’t get with child, isn’t it up to nature to decide?” asked Emily. “Surely you wouldn’t bar Henry from sharing your bed.”

“Oh, Emi, there are certain measures one can take to prevent becoming pregnant. It isn’t a guarantee, but it works. I really shouldn’t talk about these things with you…it’s married women’s talk,” said Louisa, blushing a little.

Emily was very curious about the reason behind Louisa’s blush, but knew that it wasn’t proper to pry.

“Your birthday is coming up, Emi. What shall we do to mark the occasion?” asked Louisa, happy to change the subject.

“Oh, I don’t feel like celebrating this time. It is my twenty second year, and I don’t feel any different than I did the previous autumn,” said Emily, taking the last sip of her tea.

“Come, Emi, there must be a grand celebration in your honor! It is your birthday—a day that comes but once a year, surely that’s reason enough to have a party,” implored Louisa.

“No, no, no. I truly would rather stay at home and go about my day as though it were just another Saturday.”

“But it isn’t just another Saturday. Why are you being such a killjoy? Don’t you want to invite all of your friends?”

Emily thought about it, and realized that the only person she would want to see on her birthday was the one person who would not be able to come, because he was miles and miles away. What business could be keeping him away this long, she wondered.

That Saturday, Emily spent her birthday exactly as she had wanted. Mrs. Varnes ordered a small birthday gateau from a French bakery and the two of them relished the custard filled cake with their afternoon tea. Emily received lots of birthday gifts throughout the day, much to Gordy’s dismay, who had to keep opening the door to receive the various flower bouquets, packages, and baskets. Other than that, it was just another ordinary day.

In the early evening Emily reclined comfortably on the newly upholstered settee in the drawing room, while Mrs. Varnes had Gordy keep her company in the library.

Emily lay in silence and solitude, swinging her little foot over the edge of the settee, letting her pink silk slipper tumble carelessly to the floor. It was raining outside and she could hear the relentless drops drumming on the window pane. The scent of lavender potpourri gently wafted in the air, she closed her eyes and draped her arms over her head.

It was a short lived repose as she was all of a sudden stirred from her deep state of relaxation by the most unexpected sensation.

At first she thought it was a warm gentle breeze, and then it happened again, but instead of feeling it all over, she felt it directly on her neck, then up, next to her ear lobe, then closer to her mouth, until the soft warm breath turned into a gentle tug of lips. Emily’s eyes remained closed, but she knew instantly, she didn’t have to open them to know who was kissing her.