No Crystal Stair by Eva Rutland Page B

repose. She reached out to touch his face, then drew back, consumed by guilt. She had not meant it to be like this.
    She lay back and stared at the stiff white unfamiliar curtains, the soft rosy light of early dawn that filtered through the window. Her wedding night, and she’d fallen asleep! She tried to remember how it had happened . . . He’d held her on his lap. She’d felt secure, nestled in his arms. She’d asked him to sing, and he had. And then she’d drifted off.
    How could she! Vividly she recalled her father’s words, words that had surprised and impressed her that night only a few weeks before her wedding. He’d sat on the glider beside her, touched her cheek.
    â€œAnn Elizabeth, your education in some areas has been sadly neglected.”
    Puzzled, she’d asked what he meant.
    He smiled. “Do you know the attributes of a perfect wife?”
    She guessed she hadn’t thought about it.
    â€œWell, a perfect wife, my darling, is a lady in the parlor, a cook in the kitchen and a whore in the bedroom.”
    â€œOh, Dad.” She felt the hot color rush to her cheeks.
    â€œAnd I think the last is ten times more important than the first two.”
    â€œOh, Dad.”That was all she could think to say.
    â€œAn old adage, kitten. It’s trite but true. I think a husband will forgive anything—dirty house, dirty dishes, burnt roast—if he’s happy in bed.”
    Ann Elizabeth had thought of her mother. The perfect lady. Was she... ? She almost missed her father’s next words.
    Not that if mattered much, she thought now, a little crossly. He had given no instructions. Just advice and warnings.
    â€œDon’t believe that old saying about the way to a man’s heart being through his stomach. Most marriages are made or broken in bed. Work on pleasing your husband there.”

    â€œHow?”
    On this he’d been vague. “As natural as breathing. If you really love Rob...”
    She knew she loved Rob. And yes, in that way. His kisses thrilled her as no one else’s ever had. But she felt so unsure. Afraid of not pleasing him. Was that why she’d gone to sleep? When she had planned to be so warm, so loving. She closed her eyes and the tears rolled down her cheeks.
    â€œDarling!” Rob’s voice startled her. “What is it? Why are you crying?”
    Numbly she shook her head.
    â€œAnn Elizabeth, tell me. What’s troubling you?”
    She wiped her face with her fist. “I’m so ... so ...” She choked. Stupid. “I don’t know how.”
    â€œHow?”
    â€œHow to be a whore.”
    â€œA whore? But, sweetheart, you’re not! You could never be—”
    â€œBut I want to!” She was vehement. Angry.
    â€œBut...” Rob stared at her, not comprehending.
    Haltingly, in jerky sentences, she told him what her father had said. “I didn’t mean to go to sleep, Rob. I meant to be ... like he said. I just don’t know how. I...”
    But Rob had flopped back on his pillow. His head rocked form side to side as he laughed uproariously.
    â€œIt’s not funny!”
    He couldn’t seem to contain the laughter.
    â€œDon’t,” she pleaded. “I’m sorry. I wanted to please you and I was afraid I couldn’t. That’s why I went to sleep.”
    He sat up then, but the laughter remained in his eyes. “Darling, you went to sleep because you were tired. You had a long hard day and I expect the chocolate contributed.”
    She shook her head. “No, I was afraid I couldn’t...”
    â€œI thought you were afraid of me.”
    She turned to him quickly. “Afraid of you? Never! I love you. I just don’t know...”

    â€œHow to be a whore?” He took her in his arms, whispered against her ear, “Oh, my darling, let me teach you.”
    Â 
    Â 
    Much later Ann Elizabeth looked at Rob lying with one arm around her, his