An Embarrassment of Riches by Margaret Pemberton

only beautiful beyond his wildest dreams and intelligent as he had always known she was, she was also fun. He enjoyed being with her more than he enjoyed being with Charlie, more than he enjoyed being with Henry, more than he enjoyed being with anyone. His periodic visits to Josie Woods’s establishment ceased. As there could be no question of him having sexual relations with Genevre, he began, at the sexually fraught age of eighteen, to live a celibate life.
    Charlie thought he was mad. ‘I don’t understand why it matters’ , he said time and time again. ‘If happily married men go to prostitutes, why can’t you? Genevre will never know, just as wives never seem to know.’
    â€˜ I would know,’ he had retorted, perplexing Charlie even further. ‘Besides, I don’t think happily married men do go to prostitutes. I won’t when I’m married to Genevre.’
    He crossed the junction with 18th Street and looked towards the fantastic gargoyles and towers of the Schermerhorn mansion. Charlie would be home now but he had no desire to call on him. He was still incredibly fond of Charlie, but they just didn’t seem to have much in common any more. When he wanted companionship, he wanted Genevre.
    She was sitting in the garden, waiting for him. ‘What did he say? Did he see reason?’ she asked, jumping to her feet and running towards him.
    â€˜No,’ Alexander said briefly, catching her in his arms and holding her tight.
    With super-human strength Genevre prevented a spasm of relief from running through her body. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said gently, raising her face for his kiss.
    His mouth came down in swift, unfumbled contact on hers as he found release for all his frustrated, angry emotions. At the beginning of their relationship their-love-making had been restricted to light, stolen kisses and chaste hand-holding. In the last twelve months, since they had known that they were going to marry come what may, it had grown ever more passionate and reckless. Now, as he felt her breasts within her silk dress pushing teasingly against his shirt-fronted chest, and as her tongue slipped willingly and lovingly past his, he had to exert the restraint of a Hercules to prevent himself from rolling her to the grass and taking her then and there in hungry need.
    At last, breathing unsteadily, Genevre pushed herself away from him. ‘What will you do?’ she asked, her hands still against his chest. ‘If he won’t give way over the Army, he will never give way over our marriage.’
    Alexander took hold of her hands, his dark eyes burning. ‘It doesn’t matter a damn whether he gives way or not! The instant I return from Europe we marry and he can like it or he can go to hell!’
    Genevre knew that he was serious and she knew also what he would be giving up by his action. The loss of the vast Karolyis fortune did not bother her for her own sake, her own fortune from her father’s railroad empire was more than enough for her and for all her future needs, but she cared about its loss for Alexander. He had grown up amid indescribable wealth and he had not the slightest idea of what it would be like to live without it.
    â€˜Papa is expecting us to join him for tea,’ she said reluctantly, stepping away from him and beginning to lead him towards the house, wondering for the hundredth time how Victor Karolyis could be reconciled to their love for each other. One of Alexander’s hopes had been that if he acquitted himself gloriously in the war his father would have been forced to acknowledge his maturity and would then have looked more favourably on his decision. As it was, he was not allowing Alexander to enlist and in her heart of hearts she couldn’t help but be vastly relieved. At least now she would not have to live with the fear of him being killed or maimed in battle.
    â€˜So your father turned the idea down flat, did he?’