Free The Age of Desire by Jennie Fields Page B

him?
    “I think I should be insulted.”
    “You shouldn’t. I don’t find risk takers particularly appealing,” he says. “I find them less appealing every year.”
    “I would like to be a risk taker.” Edith envisions Anna de Noailles.
    “What good would risk do you?” Fullerton says jauntily. “You know what you like. And you seem to have everything you could want.”
    Edith smiles to herself. “You don’t know me at all, Mr. Fullerton.”
    The lawns of Les Invalides roll out green and fragrant before them. After the narrow streets, the open space exhales verdant airiness.
    “I know why
I
find Lily Bart so compelling.” A shadow clouds his eyes for just a moment. “What can be more tragic than someone destroying his own chance at happiness? It’s the classic theme. The seductive glow of the wrong option. Wrong options always seem to have ribbons on them for me.”
    “For you, Mr. Fullerton?”
    “I think I’m doing everything right and most of the time I’m just flat-out wrong. And I live with the consequences. I am a very bad sport. I don’t like consequences. They’re so untidy.”
    She is charmed by his forthrightness. She thinks him a very rare man, indeed, who can view his own failings with such a cool eye.
    In the garden, they locate a bench and sit side by side. She can sense his body heat, and takes in his odor of driftwood and lavender. Edith feels something she hasn’t felt in a long time and cannot name. She’s been happy of late, but this feeling of expansion dizzies her.
    “Look there.” He points. “See that honeybee?” On the hedge behind them, a honeybee as fat as a blackberry is trying to wedge himself greedily into the narrow trumpet of a pink flower. Fullerton turns his gaze to her and says, “That’s how drawn I am to you.”
    Edith, speechless, feels her cheeks redden.
    Seeing her discomfort, he seems to shift gears. “You are far more disciplined than I, for one thing. Were you always like that? Is it something I can learn?”
    Her mouth is very dry. “I had tutors who insisted on discipline. I suspect you could learn it too.”
    “My school reports all declared that’s what I lack most. You, on the other hand, were, no doubt, a stellar student.”
    “I’ve always had to motivate myself. No one’s ever expected anything from me,” she says.
    He smiles softly. “I do.”
    She observes his perfect Greek head, his smoothly shaven chin and combed mustache, his gloved hands. She has never seen neater gloves. Entirely buttoned. Teddy has never buttoned a glove in his life. What does Fullerton want from her? Why should he waste his ammunition on such untasty game—a long-married woman whose beauty has never been her greatest asset?
    “We should go back,” she says. It’s Lucretia whispering in her ear:
Why hope
for much? You can only fail.
How strong this need of hers to close off options, to make things safe. Only on the page can she take risks. She abhors this about herself.
    They walk back in near silence. Still, their bodies seem to cleave to one another.
    “I’m leaving soon, you know,” she says. “I’m off to America. Do you have any plans to make a crossing this summer?”
    “My family
has
been asking me to come.”
    “You could visit me at The Mount.”
    “And view your gardens; take in the much ballyhooed scent of those pines.”
    They stop by the gate and look at each other. Their mutual gaze extends beyond the fleeting nod of parting friends. Edith relishes the moment to dwell on the extraordinary perfection of his face. Has she ever thought a face so lyrical?
    “I don’t think I’ll come up and see Henry today after all, if you don’t mind,” Fullerton says at last.
    “No?”
    “He doesn’t even need to know I’ve come to call. I really came to see you.”
    Edith is bewildered. Is he really trying to woo her? Or is it wishful thinking on her part?
    “Thank you for the lovely walk,” she says. “And the proofreading. I’m eager to see