When the fever of its effects broke hours later, Lydia swore to never share even one sweet drop of this elixir with any other but her own tongue. On t...at special dark night when her nurturing of Cecelia involved breast play at its most intense, Lydia had dismissed her Handmaiden, bolted the door and surveyed the bedchamber. The hearth with its new wood illuminated its lower ceilings, vaulted curtained windows between tapestries. That night Lydia had cast her eyes on the single most luxurious. But she didn’t tell him to leave. She didn’t want him to leave. She didn’t know what she really did want. She wanted several contradictory things from one moment to the next. Joel left after a while, and Lucy hid from him for two weeks, not answering the telephone at night or responding to his letters. When she did talk to him, she let him know about the ambivalence she felt and she asked him to try to understand. He seemed to. She lay that night thinking about what she would like to do with. More

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