bedroom.”
“Would you prefer to undress in private?” Walter said, looking worried.
“Not really,” Maud said. “Wouldn’t you like to watch?”
He swallowed, and when he spoke he sounded a little hoarse. “Yes, please,” he said. “I would.” He held the bedroom door open and she passed through.
Despite her show of boldness, she felt nervous as she sat on the edge of the bed and took off her shoes. No one had seen her naked since she was eight years old. She did not know whether her body was beautiful because she had never seen anyone else’s. By comparison with the nudes in museums, she had small breasts and wide hips. And there was a growth of hair between her legs that paintings never showed. Would Walter think her body was ugly?
He took off his coat and waistcoat and hung them up in a matter-of-fact way. She supposed they would get used to this one day. Everyone did it all the time. But somehow it felt strange, more intimidating than exciting.
She pulled down her stockings and took off her hat. She had nothing else superfluous. The next step was the big one. She stood up.
Walter stopped undoing his tie.
Quickly, Maud unfastened her dress and let it fall to the floor. Then she dropped her petticoat and pulled her lace blouse over her head. She stood in front of him in her underwear and watched his face.
“You are so beautiful,” he said in a half whisper.
She smiled. He always said the right thing.
He took her in his arms and kissed her. She began to feel less nervous, almost relaxed. She savored the touch of his mouth on hers, the gentle lips and the bristles of the mustache. She stroked his cheek, squeezed his earlobe between her fingertips, and ran her hand around the column of his neck, feeling everything with heightened awareness, thinking: All this is mine now.
“Let’s lie down,” he said.
“No,” she said. “Not yet.” She stepped away from him. “Wait.” She took off her chemise, revealing that she was wearing one of the newfangled brassieres. She reached behind her back, unfastened the clasp, and threw it to the floor. She looked at him defiantly, daring him not to like her breasts.
He said: “They are beautiful-may I kiss them?”
“You may do anything you like,” she said, feeling deliciously wanton.
He bent his head to her chest and kissed one, then the other, letting his lips brush delicately across her nipples, which stood up suddenly as if the air had turned cold. She had a sudden yen to do the same to him, and wondered if he would think it odd.
He might have kissed her breasts forever. She pushed him away gently. “Take off the rest of your clothes,” she said. “Quickly.”
He pulled off shoes, socks, tie, shirt, undershirt, and trousers; then he hesitated. “I feel shy,” he said, laughing. “I don’t know why.”
“I’ll go first,” she said. She untied the string of her drawers and pulled them off. When she looked up he was naked too, and she saw with a shock that his penis was sticking up from the thatch of fair hair at his groin. She remembered grasping it through his clothes at the opera, and now she wanted to touch it again.
He said: “May we now lie down?”
He sounded so correct that she laughed. A hurt look crossed his face, and she was immediately apologetic. “I love you,” she said, and his expression cleared. “Please let us lie down.” She was so excited she felt she might burst.
At first they lay side by side, kissing and touching. “I love you,” she said again. “How soon will you get bored with my saying that?”
“Never,” he said gallantly.
She believed him.
After a while he said: “Now?” and she nodded.
She parted her legs. He lay on top of her, resting his weight on his elbows. She was taut with anticipation. Shifting his weight to his left arm, he reached between her thighs, and she felt his fingers opening her moist lips, then something larger. He pushed, and suddenly she felt a pain. She cried out.
“I’m sorry!” he said. “I hurt you. I’m so terribly sorry.”
“Just wait a moment,” she said. The pain was not very bad. She was more shocked than anything else. “Try again,” she said. “Just gently.”
She felt the head of his penis touch her lips again, and she knew that it would not go inside: it was too big, or the hole was too small, or both. But she let him push, hoping for the best. It hurt, but this time she gritted her teeth and stopped herself crying out. Her stoicism did no good. After a few moments he stopped. “It won’t go in,” he said.
“What’s wrong?” she said miserably. “I thought this was supposed to happen naturally.”
“I don’t understand it,” he said. “I have no experience.”
“And I certainly have none.” She reached down and grasped his penis. She loved the feel of it in her hand, stiff but silky. She tried to maneuver it inside her, raising her hips to make it easier; but after a moment he pulled away, saying: “Ah! Sorry! It hurts me, too.”
“Do you think you’re bigger than usual?” she said tentatively.
“No. When I was in the army I saw many men naked. Some fellows have extra-large ones, and they are very proud, but I am average, and anyway I never heard even one of them complain of this difficulty.”
Maud nodded. The only other penis she had ever seen was Fitz’s, and as far as she could remember it was about the same size as Walter’s. “Perhaps I’m too small.”
He shook his head. “When I was sixteen, I went to stay in Robert’s family castle in Hungary. There was a maid there, Greta, who was very… vivacious. We did not have sexual intercourse, but we did experiment. I touched her the way I touched you in the library at Sussex House. I hope I am not making you angry by telling you this.”
She kissed his chin. “Not in the least.”
“Greta was not very different from you in that area.”
“Then what is wrong?”
He sighed and rolled off her. He put his arm under her head and pulled her to him, kissing her forehead. “I have heard that newly married couples may have difficulties. Sometimes the man is so nervous that he does not become erect. I have also heard of men who become overexcited and ejaculate even before intercourse takes place. I think we must be patient and love one another and see what happens.”
“But we have only one night!” Maud began to cry.
Walter patted her and said: “There, there,” but it did no good. She felt a complete failure. I believed I was so clever, she thought, escaping from my brother and marrying Walter secretly, and now it has all turned into a disaster. She was disappointed for herself but even more for Walter. How terrible for him to wait until the age of twenty-eight, then marry a woman who could not satisfy him!
She wished she could talk to someone about this, another woman-but who? The thought of discussing it with Aunt Herm was ludicrous. Some women shared secrets with their maids, but Maud had never had that kind of relationship with Sanderson. Perhaps she could talk to Ethel. Now that she came to think of it, it was Ethel who had told her it was normal to have hair between your legs. But Ethel had gone off with Robert.
Walter sat upright. “Let us order supper, and perhaps a bottle of wine,” he said. “We will sit down together as man and wife, and talk of this and that for a while. Then, later, we will try again.”
Maud had no appetite and could not imagine having a conversation about “this and that,” but she did not have a better idea, so she consented. Miserably, she put her clothes back on. Walter dressed quickly, went to the next room, and rang the bell for a waiter. She heard him ordering cold meats, smoked fish, salads, and a bottle of hock.
She sat by an open window and looked down at the street below. A newspaper placard said BRITISH ULTIMATUM TO GERMANY. Walter might be killed in this war. She did not want him to die a virgin.
Walter called her when the food had arrived and she joined him in the next room. The waiter had spread a white cloth and laid out smoked salmon, sliced ham, lettuce, tomatoes, cucumber, and sliced white bread. She did not feel hungry, but sipped the white wine he poured, and nibbled some salmon to show she was willing.
In the end, they did talk of this and that. Walter reminisced about his childhood, his mother, and his time at
