It had taken surprisingly little to convince Zachary that she needed to head to Florida for a week, for her health of course. New York was cold, dark and flurries of snow had set her nose to sniffling every time she set foot outside. She may have acted a bit sicker than she felt, but it didn't take much for her to act ill. She felt ill practically all the time, and she knew the cause of it.
The war.
It seemed as if that was all Zachary and Henry could talk about, and even Samantha wanted to talk about various battles when they visited for dinner. Sophie would sit and play with Adam, or knit, or even be feeding him, and Samantha would regale her with tales from the papers about men dying in the mud.
Eventually Sophie began to plead headaches when they visited, doing her best to avoid them and save herself the grief. It felt like grief was always nipping at her heels these days, constant worry about her brothers never far from her mind. It seemed every day she kept watch for someone from Henry's ships who would come over with a letter from Otto or Frederich, and every night they were in her prayers. They even haunted her dreams, and she had woken up more than once from a nightmare of Otto trapped in submarine as it sank or Frederich blown up in a trench, one of the men Samantha spoke so lightly about.
And then there was Zachary.
He had grown more and more frustrated with the business lately, which lead to him lashing out about little things at home. While he wouldn't tell Sophie everything, she knew enough to figure out the general story based on things he had said. The routes their ships took to Germany were blockaded, British ships waiting to capture them and turn them over to their cause. Sophie didn't know how many of Henry's ships had been captured, but enough had that he had forbidden any more ships to try to break the blockade. They could ship to neutral countries have their cargo transported to Germany that way, but it would cost even more.
Sophie hadn't asked if any of her letters had made it through, not after she had come across Henry and Zachary having a screaming match about the blockade.
Henry was convinced that Anastasia had been feeding information to her husband and that he specifically had been the one to lay the traps for them. Sophie could have told him better, Anastasia was terrified of any war talk and she doubted she spent her time plotting against him. More than likely her spare time was taken up by her own business, which seemed to be proceeding briskly. British contracts were good money, and easy to fulfill, but she had a good deal more of them than Henry did.
When he had brought up going to British agents and requesting more business, Zachary had accused him of abandoning the family they had who were still in Germany. Which had then led to the fight continuing on for hours, unsettling the servants and making Adam cry when Sophie went to see him.
But now, now Sophie was free of him for a week.
She had cried when she had bid Adam farewell, even though it would only be a few days. Rebecca had promised to send wires every day about how he was doing and Sophie knew Zachary would take care of him while she was gone. When the car had pulled up to the train station, he had looked at her with at least a little kindness in his eyes. "Sophie, you know I would come if everything wasn't so insane here."
She had squeezed his hand. "I know, but I think I just need a break from everything."
"Send me a wire when you're there, and call us. It will be rather funny to see Adam try and use a phone." He had kissed her cheek and sent her on her way. The Reichster train car awaited her, and her alone. No maids to tend to her, no servants to report back on what she was doing. Finally, finally she was alone and she could do as she liked.
And what she liked, was to find herself a lover.
When the hired car had pulled into the resort, tucked away from the cold Atlantic and embraced by the heat of the Gulf of Mexico, she almost jumped out in excitement. Men were everywhere it seemed, and all of them in uniform. Sailors in their whites, officers in khaki and blue, accompanied by families and wives. But many were alone, and she could have her pick of them.
She just wasn't quite sure how to go about that.
She did know how to deal with hotel staff though, arranging for a wire to be sent to New York, a maid to be assigned to her for her stay, and for her luggage to be taken to her room and unpacked. She spent a few moments supervising the maid, telling her how she preferred her things to be stored, but the maid was competent enough that Sophie eventually pocketed the key and set out to stroll the grounds.
Everything was so different from New York and Germany, the scent of flowers was still heavy in the air and so many bloomed that it seemed like she was walking through a garden even though it was just a pathway to the beach. Palm trees nodded overhead, the wind stirring their leaves and making them rustle. Underneath the near constant rustle, Sophie could hear waves breaking nearby and followed the sound.
The ocean that spread before her was so unlike the dark Atlantic, it seemed almost impossible for that clear blue color to exist during winter. Everything should be gray and dark, not sunny and warm. The people that were enjoying the beach should have been huddled inside around a fire, not considering going for a swim. And here, no one knew who she was and it seemed like no one cared when she began walking on the beach.
Sophie could walk up and down the beach all she wanted, she could probably even run along the shore and no one would care. Everyone was too caught up with their own pleasures, men splashing in the surf, another sketching something from underneath an umbrella where another man and woman lounged, and ladies were joking and laughing as they promenaded through the sand.
And then it felt like the ground dropped out from underneath her.
She didn't know anyone. She was alone, in a strange place with no friends to introduce her, with no help to make sure she didn't make a fool of herself. She glanced around, noticing a chair that had been abandoned. She quickly took advantage of it, doing her best to collect herself. Sophie drew in deep breaths, trying to calm her racing heart.
She would be alright, she was fine. No one here was looking at her, no one was watching for a misstep. She could do this, she could find someone, she just had to settle on how to go about it. She winced, for she knew exactly how not to go about it.
When Anastasia had mentioned taking a lover, and the war had thrown her off balance, Sophie had gone off on a hairbrained scheme. She'd arrived at the Vanderbilt house, asked to see Oscar, and then made a fool of herself. Oscar had been kind, telling her that he hoped her brothers would be safe, the same hope he held for William, and he had given her such a kind smile that she couldn't help herself.
She'd kissed him.
He had responded, slightly, but then he had gently pushed her away while he pulled back. He had blinked those soft brown eyes for a moment before speaking. "Sophie, I know things are rather off-kilter at the moment but you can't do that."
"But I want to!" She'd cried, feeling tears prick at her eyes. "I want someone to actually care about me, and you're always so kind and helpful. Please, we can keep it secret, I know we can."
He'd held her hands then, gently squeezing them. "Sophie, if we did this it would be dangerous. Zachary would find out somehow, and then it would be all over the papers. You've seen what they've written about Alfred, and how the women he had affairs with ended up. I don't want you to be like them." He had smiled, wistfully. "Besides, you deserve someone who can give you their whole heart."
And then Sophie knew why Oscar wouldn't go farther than a kiss.
Anastasia still danced through his mind, even though she was married. Sophie had never known someone to be as besotted as he was, and yet he was so restrained. Part of her wanted to yell, to tell him that Anastasia would never return his feelings and that he was torturing himself in the pursuit of being some perfect chivalric figure. To make him angry enough to take her to bed, where he could forget the woman that could never be his, even if he had pictured Anastasia the whole time. Her lip had quivered, and her will had failed.
That would have been cruel, and the world had enough cruelty in it as it was.
So, she'd simply squeezed his hand before withdrawing her own. "You deserve the same Oscar, and you know you'll never have her whole heart."
"I'm not an idiot Sophie," He'd shook his head. "I've known that for some time."
Sophie blinked away the memory, her mind returning to the present. She couldn't just throw herself at another man, not without ensuring that he would want her. She refused to feel like a fool again. The first step then would be to find an available man, unmarried and without a woman he was pining after. Second, she would draw him on and be certain that he had an interest in her. And then, finally, they would head to bed. Even if it was only for a single night, she would treasure the memory of being with someone who actually cared for her.
When she returned to her room, and the maid helped her into her dinner dress, she repeated her plans to herself as she patted powder across her face and adjusted her hair. It was almost a mantra, and the more she repeated the steps the more confident she felt. In fact, she felt so confident that she removed her wedding and engagement rings and left them in her trunk.
After all, a man might shirk at having an affair but be willing to entertain a night with a single woman.
She held her head high when she entered the dining room, casting her eyes around the room. It was well lit, a band played in the corner, and had so many men in their dress uniforms that she almost wanted to actually understand what the rank markings on them meant. Otto had tried to explain it once, but those had been German uniforms and she had been more interested in the medals than anything.
Sat by herself, she did her best to try and find someone to flirt with. A few men were looking her way, and she tossed her head as she examined them closer. One was sat with a woman who was clearly his wife, another was leering more than looking and a third had a rather flushed look to his face even though the first wine had only just been served. She kept herself from sniffing at those three, but another face caught her eye.
A young man, rather plain with hazel eyes and chestnut hair, was almost gaping at her. She chuckled, watching as he hurriedly shoved his hand into his jacket and pulled something out of his pocket. The woman and man at his table seemed to shrug as he got up, moving towards her. Sophie felt her heart flutter as he hastily unfolded a piece of paper, his other hand pulling his uniform back to rights.
He paused in front of her, clearly tongue tied for a moment. "Hello, miss, I'm sorry for coming up to you like this."
Sophie glanced at his hands, noting that he didn't have a ring on. "It's quite alright, is there anything I can help you with?"
"You already did!" He held out the paper, "I hope you don't mind, but I was having such a hard time trying to find something to sketch earlier, and then I saw you."
Sophie gently took the paper, turning it around in her hands. It was the beach from earlier, the nature rendered rather halfheartedly and the various figures more blurs than anything, except for one. The lines were rough, as though he had been working in a hurry, but there was something touching about how he had drawn her. The delicate curve of her neck, the slight lines that shaped her hair, and the way she gazed out at the water. She glanced up, "Did I really look like that?"
"You did." He smiled, "Like you had never seen anything like it."
"I hadn't!" Sophie laughed, "I'm far used to cold winters, I never thought to see a place like this in December."
"And I'm afraid I'm far to used to Green Christmases." He ducked his head, "Oh, I should probably introduce myself. Lieutenant Morris Greenwood."
Sophie extended her hand, "Sophie Suppan."
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Miss Suppan." Morris bowed over her hand, pressing a slight kiss to it. "You're welcome to keep the sketch."
"I wouldn't want deprive your portfolio." She looked to the chair next to her, "Won't you sit, Lieutenant?"
He hesitated. "I wouldn't want to impose, I'm sure your fiancé will be here shortly."
"Actually, I'm alone." Sophie batted her eyes, "And I would dearly love some company, although I wouldn't want your wife to be angry."
Morris burst out in a laugh so loud that he drew a few glares from nearby tables. "That's, that's not my wife. That would be my sister and her husband, and believe me, they'd be glad to have a few hours without me."
"Then I would certainly be glad for your company." Sophie smiled happily as he sat, a waiter quickly bringing over another place setting for him. "After all, it's rare to meet an artist in uniform."
"Oh, well, you'd be surprised." Morris took a sip of wine after the waiter poured for him "It can get quite boring onboard, so we tend to find things to do. I'm far better with watercolors than charcoal."
"It must be rather easy to get water for our paintings when out at sea."
"Oh yes, I just throw a bucket out my cabin and haul up whatever I need." He grinned, "Although it's not the worst hobby onboard. Much better than drinking or gambling."
Sophie nodded, noting that remark. He didn't drink to excess or gamble, both good qualities. "I've tried sketching myself, I'm afraid I'm not as good as you are."
"Well, I've had lots of time to practice." He sheepishly replied, "I'm sure your days are quite full, you probably have so many friends to visit."
"I suppose I do." She nodded, "Although sometimes I wish I had more time for myself, I guess you could say that why I'm here."
Morris smiled pleasantly while the waiter laid the first course, a delicately baked snapper, in front of them before continuing. "Where are you from?"
Sophie chewed her forkful of fish for a little longer than she needed, "New York, I'm afraid I haven't traveled much beyond the city. Are you from Florida?"
He chuckled, having already cleared away half his fish. "Not quite, my family lived in Galveston for a long time." An accent, something similar to a British accent, slowly rose in his voice as he continued to speak. "Although I left to go to the Academy and they moved up to Virginia after the hurricane."
"Hurricane?"
"A big one, destroyed almost the whole town." He paused for a moment, "I was very lucky that my family got out alright, I couldn't leave the Academy and it killed me to wait for word."
"I know the feeling." Sophie looked down to her plate, "My brothers are away and I don't know when I'll get word."
"I'm sure they're just as worried about you." Morris looked as if he wanted to reach over and take her hand. "Just like my sister is worried about me at the moment."
Sophie looked over, noting that his sister was indeed watching him very closely. "I hope she isn't concerned about you."
"More than likely she's just worried I'm annoying you." He shook his head, "She always tells me I have a tendency to talk too much."
"I quite like it." She smirked, "In fact, I'd like to hear more. What is this Academy you went to?"
The second course arrived, chicken and rice. Morris took a forkful before speaking, "The Naval Academy, in Maryland. Very exclusive, I was lucky to get in."
Ah, an educated man. For a brief moment she thought about Morris meeting Otto, they two of them would no doubt have gotten along fabulously. "You must have proven yourself very capable. I'm sure you beat out quite a few other applicants."
He actually blushed, "I'm just a hard worker, that's all."
"And now you're a Lieutenant." Sophie smiled, hoping that her eyes were sparkling in the light. "With a good berth, no doubt."
"Actually, I haven't been on a ship for awhile." He said, his voice a little wistful. "I've been assigned as a Quartermaster at the Brooklyn Navy Yard, overseeing the ships they're building there."
Sophie had to bite her tongue. Brooklyn was so close to where she lived, she would need to be careful that he never learned who she actually was. "To think I travelled all this way to essentially meet a neighbor."
"I could say the same." He lifted his glass to her, taking a sip. "That was quite a meal."
"It was."
The silence stretched on between them for a bit, and Sophie used it to study him. He was rather plain, freckles across his nose and his lips were rather thin, but she found it all appealing. She thought he might be examining her a bit, and did her best to make sure her posture was impeccable and she displayed herself as best she could. He must have noticed her movement, for he glanced away until she had stilled. "I hope I get to see you again while I'm here."
"How long is that?"
"I leave at the end of the week," Sophie resisted biting her lip, that was three days from now. He looked at her, his eyes wide and a smile on his face. "And you?"
"After you, I'm afraid." She sighed, "But, perhaps we could go for a walk tomorrow?"
He brightened considerably. "I would be honored to take you for a walk. Perhaps the beach?"
"That sounds lovely." She nodded to his sister across the room, "So long as your sister doesn't skin me alive for stealing you away."
He stood, snorting. "She has her husband to worry about, they're headed back to the orange groves tomorrow morning."
"Orange groves?"
"His father grows them, you've probably eaten some of his." Morris held out his hand, allowing Sophie to slip hers into it. He bowed again, kissing her knuckles. "Until tomorrow, Miss Suppan."
"Tomorrow, Lieutenant Morris." Sophie felt her heart hammering like it never had around Zachary as Morris made his way back to his family's table. Even that night when she lay in bed, her heart was still thumping wildly. It had felt so easy to be around him. Is that what Anastasia had meant? When he had kissed her hand, her heart had almost flipped in her chest.
The next day, after she had made a brief call to New York and heard Adam babble at her over the phone, she fretted over her appearance. After Adam had been born, she had been far too skinny but now she felt that she was too plump! And when she leaned closer to the mirror, she swore there were more wrinkles around her eyes. She was frantically rubbing cold cream into her face when the maid arrived to assist her into a walking dress. Then it was more powder, and she fretted until a knock sounded on her door.
Morris had traded his uniform for a well-tailored suit, light gray with a white pinstripe. He held out an arm, "Shall we, Miss Stuppan?
"We shall, Lieutenant Greenwood." She took his arm, "You can call me Sophie, Lieutenant Greenwood."
"So long as you call me Morris." He chuckled, leading them down the path she had taken yesterday. "After all, we are neighbors."
Sophie giggled at that, "I still can't believe that. I would have never thought to meet a fellow New Yorker down here."
Morris gave an exaggerated shiver. "Anything to escape the cold!" They had gained the beach, and he wound up giving her a brief education on the wildlife. Birds wheeled overhead, and he seemed to know most of their species. A dock stretched out into the surf, and he could identify several types of fish swimming around. He turned back to Sophie, a toothy grin. "We should just be glad we haven't seen any gators."
"Gators?" She leaned over farther, watching the fish dart around the dock. "I've never heard of those."
"Big nasty lizards, with jaws full of teeth that could tear you to pieces." He put his arm around her, gently drawing her back from the railing and it almost made her shiver. "But they may be lurking around, so it would be best to not lean too far out."
Sophie felt like her skin was mottled and flushed. "You don't think they would get me, do you?"
"I think they'd be thrilled to snap up someone so pretty." He smiled down at her, and Sophie realized that he had several inches on her. "So, we'd best not tempt them."
Am I tempting you, though? Sophie batted her eyes, hoping that he was falling into her trap, which was feeling less and less like a deliberate trap. The more she spoke to Morris, the less she wanted to trick him. "Then perhaps it's time to return to somewhere safer. The dining room, perhaps?"
Morris grimaced. "While I would love to, I'm afraid I have to decline tonight. But I would dearly love to have dinner with you tomorrow."
"I should enjoy that." She gave his arm a squeeze, "Perhaps after another walk, or maybe some games?"
He chuckled, "I'm afraid I'm going to be gamed out." He gestured out towards the sailors that had begun to overtake the beach. "It turns out my sister picked this hotel because the local navy base is having a holiday here, and she thought I might like to join them."
"Oh," Sophie tried to keep the bitterness of regret from her voice. "How kind of her."
"She thinks I need to socialize more to progress my career." He rolled his eyes, "So tonight is dinner with the local commander and tomorrow is going shooting with them. Believe me, I will be quite glad to return to your company after."
Sophie didn't much feel like returning to the dining room that night, and spent the next morning sleeping in and sorting through her gowns. She could have been looking at the other men, widen her search, but she didn't want any man now.
She wanted Morris.
He'd been kind, he was funny and he clearly enjoyed her company. Her heart fluttered around him, and she had seen him a bit flustered around her, so she knew he felt something similar. She anxiously worked her fingers around where her rings usually were. When she was with Morris, she didn't think about Zachary.
She hardly thought about Adam.
She was a horrible mother, abandoning her son to engage in this debauchery. Everything she had been taught throughout her life, how she should act, how she should carry herself, her duty to her husband and family, she was throwing all of it out the window for the chance of a few moments of pleasure. She was the lowest form of woman, a selfish scheming harridan.
But her heart still jumped when Morris knocked on her door.
He must have noticed her mood, for he was extra caring to her. He pulled out her chair, poured wine for her, and didn't ask her why she was so quiet. Instead, he began telling her stories over dinner. He didn't mind making a fool of himself, telling her how he thought he was a tough cowboy for trying to ride a horse that no one ever had and winding up with a broken arm for his efforts. He even acted out moments from his time at the Academy, sneaking out to go run through the woods because the upperclassmen had told them everyone had, and then sneaking around their commander to get back inside.
That drew a giggle out of her, and he grinned at that. "Ah, there she is!"
"I'm sorry," She shook her head. "I've had a lot on my mind."
"Was it your brothers, did you get any word?"
"No, no. I've just been thinking a lot." Sophie sighed. "Probably too much."
Morris stood, holding out a hand. "Then perhaps we shouldn't think, care to dance?"
It was then that Sophie noticed the dinner had passed in a blur, and the diners had moved over to the band to dance rags and chat over drinks. He held out his hands, and she stepped into them as they began to dance. Zachary's dances were technically proficient and smooth, Morris missed steps and improvised, laughing while he did so.
And then she was laughing, and she tripped and fell into him.
His hand moved a bit further up her back, she leaned back to look in his eyes, and then he briefly pressed his lips to hers. They were soft and moved smoothly against hers before he pulled away, blushing as a few of the other dancers giggled even though they were hardly the only couple to have kissed while dancing. He looked down to his shoes, "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have done that."
"It's alright," Sophie squeezed his hand, "I quite liked it."
Morris drew them away from the dance floor. "I did too." He fidgeted though, straightening his jacket. He'd worn his uniform again, and it looked handsome on him. "I just, I just wish I had more time down here with you." He worried her hand in his. "I'd like to do thing properly with you, if I had more time."
"I wish we had more time too." Sophie pursed her lips. "But we have one more day."
"That we do." He gave her a smile, clearly trying to make her feel better. "We should do something different tomorrow."
Sophie stepped a little closer, "You mentioned you're skilled with watercolors. Do you have them with you?"
"I do."
"Do you think you could paint a portrait of me, to take with you?"
He blinked, and a wide smile broke out on his face. "Sophie, I would love to."
The morning found Sophie eating a decent breakfast, having sat for enough portraits to know that one should eat beforehand because you hardly could move during one, let alone eat. The maid assisted her into her dress, specially chosen. It was a tea gown, pale blue silk and draped in fine Venice lace.
When Morris saw it, she knew his eyes lingered a moment longer than was necessary before he offered his arm. "You look beautiful, Sophie."
"Thank you." She blushed, noting the case in his other arm. "Do you have a place in mind?"
"I do, it's relatively private and should provide a lovely background." He led her along various paths around the hotel, eventually stepping through a wrought iron gate into a garden. Sophie couldn't help but marvel at all the different plants around them, many of them still flowering even this late in winter. Morris paused, "Here we are."
Sophie noted the two chairs that had been left, as well as the small table by one. She stepped to the far one, doing her best to arrange herself in front of the veritable wall of bushes with their large red and yellow flowers like she had for the portraits that had been painted of her before, back in Germany. "Is this alright?"
"Almost," Morris reached for one of the flowers, plucking it and tucking it behind her ear. It dislodged a lock of hair, which curled down over her shoulder. "Now, you're perfect."
She did her best to hold still as he pulled a pencil out, beginning to sketch everything. "I feel so foolish, I don't even know what these flowers are."
"Hibiscus," He sounded rather strained, although she knew it was because he was focused on the sketch. "They're my sister's favorite."
"You sound quite close with her."
"She's my only sibling, and for all our sniping sometimes, we do love each other." He grinned, "I even threatened to kill her husband before the wedding if I ever found out he'd laid a finger on her."
"I'm sure she appreciated it."
"She threatened to shoot me."
Sophie burst out laughing at that, ruining the careful pose she had adopted. It took her a moment to collect herself, and she tried to return to her serious pose but Morris held up a hand. "No, no, you looked much better when you were laughing."
"I looked silly."
"It's better than looking frozen like a statue." He quickly pulled an eraser from his case, rubbing out something before sketching even faster. Sophie watched as he worked, his long fingers quickly becoming dirty as he adjusted lines and redrew them. They only got worse when he finally drew out the paints, a cup of water drawn from a nearby fountain. His fingers were slowly stained green and red, blue and the faintest hint of yellow. She desperately wanted those fingers to touch her.
By the time the sun was slowly moving down the sky, he sat back with a sigh. "Well, I think that's as good as it will get."
Sophie rose, coming to look. Against the background of the hibiscus bushes, her blue gown stood out clearly, but everything had been rendered in long swaths of color. It all seemed to blend together, and yet it was distinct. The red flower in her hair drew the eye to her, her laughing expression and pink cheeks and lips. She didn't look like some seductress, or tired mother, but rather a beautiful girl inviting the viewer to come joi her in the garden, a fairy come down to play. "Oh, it's beautiful."
"It's a poor effort." Morris cut his eyes away. "You deserve to be painted by someone with more talent."
Sophie let her hand settle on his shoulder, "I don't want some maestro, I want you."
He flushed slightly, "Well, I mean, it will look better once it dries. I can give it to you before I leave tomorrow."
"I want you to keep it." Sophie let her fingers wander towards his neck. "But I do want to see it once it dries. Perhaps you could bring it to my room tonight?"
"Sophie," He looked over, shocked. "You don't know what you're asking."
"I do." She leaned over, kissing him. She had meant to pull away, but his hand had found the back of her head and held her in place for a moment. Everything felt perfect at that moment, his paint stained hands in her hair, the heady smell of the flowers in the air, the slight breeze that rustled the leaves of the bushes. It made her skin feel warm and cold at the same time, and when he released her, she barely moved. "Please, Morris?"
He rested his forehead against hers. "Alright, Sophie." It seemed neither of them wanted to move, until the sound of another couple shook them out of their reverie. When he left Sophie at her room, she almost fainted with relief.
It was going to happen; he was going to come to her tonight and she could finally be with someone she felt even an inkling of desire for. She moved to her trunk, sorting through her gowns for something that was at least slightly seductive. There was a beautiful gold beaded one that would set her skin to glowing, and she felt giddy when she drew it out.
Morris was going to come to her tonight, and he lived in New York! They could be together beyond the night; she might be able to have him and have Adam around her at the same time. It was a wonderful thought, although it did make her stop short.
Morris lived in New York, if he ever saw the society pages he would know who she was. He would know that she'd engaged in an affair with him, that he was her illicit lover. She shakily sat down, the gown slipping from her fingers. He would despise her for that, for not telling him. She needed to tell him that she had a husband, that she had a child, and that she had abandoned them to come spend a night in his arms and she would do it again if she could.
He might leave if he knew that, but he needed to.
So, when the sun had set, a hesitant knock sounded at her door. She opened it, seeing Morris was dressed in his uniform again. A leather portfolio was in his hand, and he gave a shaky smile. "May I come in?"
"Of course," She stepped back from the door, letting him move past. "I would actually like to talk to you about something."
Morris paused, halfway sat in a chair. "Oh, I had wanted to talk to you too." He waited until Sophie had sat before holding out the portfolio. "Here, you said you wanted to see it."
She opened it, admiring how the paint had dried and made everything even more ethereal, like she was a fairy in a garden. "It's lovely."
"Sophie, I," He moved his chair closer, "I haven't felt this way about someone before, and I don't want you to do anything that you'll regret tonight."
She held up a hand, which he quickly grasped. "Morris, I need to say something and I want you to let me say all of it before you speak." She waited for him to nod, then bared her soul. "My name isn't Sophie Suppan, it's Sophie Reichster. I'm married, and I have a son. I came down here to have an affair," She felt tears pricking at her eyes. "I don't love my husband, and a friend told me to find someone who could give me some kind of pleasure in my life."
She gripped his hand tighter. "And I hope that will be you Morris, but I can understand if you leave me tonight. But I've enjoyed our time together, and I care for you. I want to be with you, to know you even more."
Morris was quiet for sometime, but he never let go of her hand. "That's, that's an awful lot to take in Sophie."
"I know, I'm sorry."
"Reichster, that would be one of those shipping companies in New York?"
"Yes, I married the heir to it."
"And your brothers, are they real?"
"They are," She sniffed, brushing away a tear. "Although I haven't heard from them because they're either in Germany or fighting for her."
"Ah." He sighed, leaning back and looking up at the ceiling. "Well, I guess I can get forget the speech I was about to give you about saving your virginity."
"I did keep ahold of that until I was married."
He chuckled, "At least you managed that."
"I generally try to think of myself as a good woman, this is the only time I've tried to do something selfish."
Morris moved his chair closer to hers. "I've done a few bad things in my life, but never adultery."
"What have you done?"
"I snuck out with a few friends from the Academy to go drinking after a test."
"Oh my, you're quite a rebel."
"I am, aren't I? And you?"
"I married a man I don't love to keep my family afloat."
"Hardly a rebel."
"I want to be." She brought her hand up, brushing over his cheek. "I want to rebel in some way, I want to be with you, even if it's just for a single night."
He covered her hand with his, his eyes soft. "Is your husband really such a bastard?"
"He doesn't hit me, but I'm miserable with him and his family. I haven't had a happy moment since I married him." She looked down, "Aside from holding my son."
"I would like to meet him." Morris drew her chin back up, "Your son I mean, not your husband. If he has you as a mother, he must be a perfect angel."
She felt like her heart was about to fall through her chest. "You want to meet him, back in New York?"
"Of course I do," He brushed his thumb over her chin. "I want to see you when we're both back in New York, even if it means sneaking around your husband."
"Morris," She leaned forward, kissing him and she felt his tongue flick against her lips. He drew her to his lap, continuing the kiss and slipping his tongue through to stroke against hers. Sophie almost jumped back at that, but it felt rather nice and she replied in kind. He groaned at that, curling his hands in her hair.
Sophie never knew that kissing could be like this, so soft and warm and it made her feel like she could stay here in Morris's arms forever. He pulled away slowly, but stayed close to her, his forehead against hers and his arms around her. "Perhaps we should move to the bedroom?" She nodded, a little breathless. Morris helped her stand, and let her lead the way.
She paused, staring at the bed. "Morris, I, I don't know what to do."
"You've had a child," He chuckled, slipping his arms around her waist and kissing her neck. "Surely you know how that comes about."
"But I," She almost moaned as he suddenly sucked at the side of her neck, barely catching herself. "I never really do anything. Zachary just lifts my chemise, spreads my legs and leaves after he's done."
She heard Morris mutter curses at Zachary into her skin, slowly bringing his head up. "Well, I won't be leaving. But first, we should probably undress." His hands moved to the buttons of her dress, but hesitated. "Would you like me to?"
"Yes." She shivered as he popped each button open, his fingers sliding the arms of the dress down her shoulders and letting it pool at her feet. He hesitated again before unlacing her corset, but quickly had them undone after she nodded. Her chemise quickly followed, and Sophie had to stop herself from crossing her arms over her breasts. Instead she stood still as a statue, hoping that he wouldn't find her too plump now that she'd recovered from Adam's birth.
Morris circled around to her front; his eyes wide. "Sophie, you are so beautiful."
She blushed, "Should I undress you?"
"If you like." He did his best to stand still as she moved to his uniform buttons, the big brass ones far easier to slip through their holes than hers. His waistcoat was still easy, although she felt him chuckle underneath her fingers when she struggled slightly with his shirt. He came up to help then, and soon his shirt and collar were discarded. Her fingers were trembling when she reached for his trouser buttons, feeling the heat of his skin all the more. He stilled as she worked them open, sliding them down his legs and taking him in fully.
His manhood was already somewhat firm and standing away from him, and when she glanced up at him, he blushed. "I should get my shoes off, just a moment."
Sophie giggled, having been so distracted that she forgot he still had his shoes and socks on. He sat on the bed, quickly sending them across the room before latching an arm around her waist and pulling her to him. Then it was back to those lovely long kisses, as he gently turned her so she lay with her head on the pillows. She took some time to look at him as they kissed, noting that he was fit and trim, rather tanned, and that he had the most lovely eyelashes that brushed against her cheek as he kissed her.
His mouth seemed to be everywhere, as did his hands. While he kissed her, his hands moved to breasts and began to gently stroke them, circling her nipples and making her want to moan again. He must have felt her restrain herself, because he lifted his head. "Sophie, you don't have to be quiet."
"I don't want to annoy you." She muttered, feeling herself blush again. The last thing she wanted to do was do something to displease Morris and have him leave.
Morris shook his head, one hand coming up to cradle her head. "Nothing you've done has annoyed me, and I want you to do what you want. If you want to make noise, then make noise. Just tell me if I try something and you don't like it."
"I don't know a lot," She brought her hands up, running her fingers over his chest and feeling his skin jump under her touch. "Do you?"
"I know some," He leaned down, kissing her again. "I was on a ship that docked in France and the girls there are very interested in foreign men, and they are excellent teachers." One hand moved down her body, pausing briefly to knead her breast before continuing down past her waist. "I want you to trust me enough to let me try, but also trust that if you say stop, I will."
She almost jumped when she felt his hand between her legs, his fingers searching for something. They slowly found whatever they wanted, gently stroking her back and forth. She felt almost dirty when he did, like he was lowering himself. But then she looked up at Morris, his face open and honest and she found she trusted him completely in that moment. He kept stroking, and slowly that feeling of shame began to fade, replaced by a tingle that slowly grew in her belly.
He kept stroking that part of her, and she felt him slip a finger towards her entrance, sliding inside and rubbing at her. It didn't feel bad, it actually felt rather pleasant and she let out a contented sigh. Morris pressed himself more to her, and she felt the firmness of him against her thigh. She pressed a kiss to his shoulder, "Do you want me to touch you?"
"Not yet." His voice was a little strained, but he was smiling. "I want you to enjoy this. I feel like if you touched me I might not be able to be ready again before I leave." His fingers paused, making her squirm. "Do you have, well, a condom?"
"No," She was glad it was rather dark so he couldn't see her blush. "But I want to feel you."
"If I get you pregnant-"
"I don't think you will, but I will be careful." Sophie didn't want to tell him how the doctor had told her not to expect her next child anytime soon, given how quickly she had fallen pregnant it was unlikely to happen again so swiftly. "Morris, please don't stop."
"Of course not." He muttered, pressing more kisses to her as his fingers sped up. And suddenly it wasn't just a tingle that she was feeling, it was as if a sea of warmth had sprung to life in her belly, waves flowing across it and sending that warmth out into her body. She was panting, and when she let herself moan Morris grinned into the kiss and sped up even further.
And then, "Oh."
The pleasure that Anastasia had talked about sped through her, her muscles seizing and holding her taut for just a moment before they released. She shivered, feeling as if electric currents were racing through her and making her move against his hand until she had finally exhausted herself. Morris held himself above her, wiping his hand off on her thigh. "I take it you enjoyed it?"
"Very much." She panted, her hands going to his shoulders. "I want you."
"Just a moment," He gently drew her legs apart, positioning himself. "If it's too much, let me know."
She nodded, feeling the blunt head of him at her entrance. Zachary had always just barreled forward, and the first time she had bitten her tongue at the pain when he had buried himself in her. But as Morris pressed himself into her, there was no pain at all. His fingers had readied the way, so that all she felt as he entered her was a delicious stretch. He fit perfectly in her, and when he slowly began to move, they both moaned at the feeling of relief it provided.
It may not have been the burning pleasure his fingers and brought her to, but she felt that warmth again as he moved. Morris gazed down at her, the both of them panting as he moved into her over and over again. His voice was hoarse, "Is it good? I'm not hurting you, am I?"
"No, I'm fine and it's very good." Sophie didn't trust herself to say much more, especially when he sped up at her word. It was good, it was wonderful and tender and everything she should have had in her marriage. The sound of their skin striking seemed to drive him further on, and he moved so fast that Sophie felt as if he barely left her before driving into her again.
Morris groaned loudly, burying his face in her shoulder as he finished. Sophie expected him to immediately roll off, but he stayed there for a moment, placing kisses against her hair and the side of her hair. She brought a hand up to curl around his head, holding him there. "That was wonderful, Morris."
"It was." He chuckled, rising off of her. "Just a minute." He moved to the bathroom, coming back with a wet cloth that he used to wipe her off before rejoining her in bed. He curled his arms around her, pulling her close to him. "I wish I had more time with you, Sophie."
"I do too." She pressed her head to his chest, feeling his hand stroke her back. "We can find time in New York."
"We'll have to be discreet."
Sophie leaned back, smiling at him. "I have a trusted friend that can help."
"I hope she can help quickly," He pressed a kiss to her, "I want to see you again soon."
I fairly goggled at Sophie, hardly believing that she had managed to seduce a man in three days and that he was so close to the both of us. "That is, Sophie that is quite a tale."
"You'll help though, won't you?" She stood, coming to take my hand. "I'll do anything, I'll steal information from Henry for you. Please, please I just want to see Morris again and I need someone to help me."
I gave her hand a squeeze, "I will, but first I think I need to take a trip to the Navy Yard and meet this Lieutenant Greenwood."