“This is the best Thanksgiving I have ever known,” she said, touching him on the arm and holding him fast.

“It is one of my best,” he said truthfully, thinking first on that list was the year he was first blessed with Rose.

Their joy with each other had not traveled its full course, but Elissa was afraid then it was running out, and throughout the meal she kept asking her lover for reassurances. This in turn soured Caleum’s mood, as he felt he was being pinned down.

“Let us have another cordial,” he said, “and enjoy our meal. I am as happy as I have ever been here. You must not worry so much about me leaving you.” She was serene when she heard his words, secure for the moment that his heart and devotion were with her.

Nor was what he said merely a deceit to put her off pestering him with questions. He was as happy with her that day as he could remember. It was merely a different sort of happiness than what he was used to, and the knowledge that pleasure itself could be pursued in the same way he had gone after his wife, or his yearly production, was a small unsettling revelation to him. He had thought before that stable marital harmony was the only dependable kind there was, but now he knew it was only one of many and not better than those others, merely a different formulation. It dizzied him to think of it, as he saw how arbitrary one way of life might be over another.

When he first found himself thinking this he feared it was devil’s logic; however, he did not know how to resist it, for he could find nothing sound on the other side that satisfied the question of why one form of life was better than another, or even why going after what was strenuous and correct was better than going after what delivered the greatest joy.

He knew men learned in religion would reproach him sharply and make clear with moral reasoning what was unavailable to his intellect alone — but that he loved a woman who was not his wife, even the most pious of them could not argue away, or tell him why he should not believe in its existence.

His heart then had its own method of philosophizing and reckoning, which did not square with the others at all, asking his conscious mind whether, if a man’s sin is that he is not an angel, might he still not be a worthy man.

“Will we spend Christmas together?” Elissa asked him in the midst of all this, for she was equally in love with him and saw in his eyes that she had gained ascendancy in his mind.

“Yes,” he answered her, smiling. “We will.”

She was made happy by this, but for her position to be truly impregnable she knew there was only one way to achieve that goal. For a woman she could compete with, no matter how fancy she was, but his children would always tug on his bosom, unless he had others with her. It was not a cold calculation on her part, only a reasonable one, as matters of the heart often need aids of reason to sort out their arcs and realize themselves.

When they finished with dinner, she was especially affectionate with her man and, rather than seek out other amusement for the evening, insisted that they go back to their little hotel, where they might pass the rest of the evening together in bliss.

That night as they lay again in their secret chamber, she thought how the spell of love alone could not last indefinitely, and asked him again to tell her his love for her. He answered with sweet words and knew there was much truth to them.

When he married it had been from compatibility and a sense of duty, as he was very young and feared all those other footpaths the heart might follow. With her his duty was to his heart’s happiness and his desires. He could be content with that for a very long time, he knew, perhaps even so far as the end of his days.

“My heart did not know it’s true deepness before I met you,” he said, holding her naked breast. Their affection for each other had actually startled him, when he realized how simple and pure it was, but also when he recognized the profundity of that weightlessness.

She was exuberant when she heard this, for she had spared herself no sacrifice in order to take care of him and increase his gladness. Although she tried to be discreet, she knew it had already cost her her reputation, for everyone spoke of her as a dishonored woman. If love be dishonor, though, she was happy to be infamous, as they shared in that room on Catherine Street an ecstasy whose heat consumed all other fuel.

“Will you stay with me?” she asked him again.

“Yes,” he said. “I will.”

“How long?” she begged, for she wanted him to be clear about what she offered him and what she needed.

“As long as can be told on all the clocks in heaven,” he answered. He fell back into her arms after that, until he began to forget about all else outside that room.

“And I will always be devoted to you,” she promised. “If you left me now I know I could not live.”

He was possessed then by her touch as she was by his words, and the two of them fell upon each other in lovemaking.

They were still awake late into that night, long after most of the city had already retired and was dreaming. Under the twilight that ebbed through the windows, they held each other still.

“Do you know what would please me more than anything else?” she asked him sleepily, as he held her about the waist.

“No, but I want to know nothing more.”

“I cannot ask it.”

“Tell me.”

“It is to have a house and children with you,” she said, telling him next how tired she was of living like a fugitive in their rented room, and promising how much happier she could make him if only they had a home of their own to be in together.

Caleum did not need to think about it very long before telling her that he would find her a house where they could be together. For he also missed having a home and knew that making one with her would bring him no end of pleasure. “I will buy you a house,” he promised.

He did not know about children, but he knew that after taking up with him for so long it would be impossible for her to go back to her people without disgrace, and he did not wish to see that ever happen to her — or that she should go wanting for anything, or beg favor of anyone else, even if he could not make her his wife. His honor required at least this much. He would give her a house.

He did not think then what it would mean for his intention of returning to his own home, as that place had grown very distant from his mind’s eye. He only thought about Christmas with Elissa, and what he should do for an income if he stayed on in that city — as his purse was not as full as it used to be and would be taxed very definitely by the purchase of a home.

five

He searched the city continuously during the weeks leading up to the holiday, until he found a place he thought would be suitable for the two of them. It was a respectable merchant’s house though not grand, built in the Dutch manner with a little store on the bottom floor and living quarters above it. When he presented it to her Christmas morning, she was overjoyed as she went through the rooms, planning out in her mind the function each would serve and how best to make them happy there.

When they moved in, he found everything in the house had been arranged around his needs and satisfaction, so that he never had to think of anything disagreeable while he was there and, in fact, marveled at how constantly pleasant his new house was and how untroubled he felt in its rooms.

For income, Caleum Merian set up a small concern in the shop on the first floor, selling wares that were much coveted but difficult to come by during the war. It proved very popular with the people of that city, as it was filled with delicacies, and on weekends he would share with Elissa those things he had hoarded for the two of them alone. Having scoured the wharfs for smuggled goods, there might be fine Irish lace or hats in the latest fashion from France, one of which he might present to her, reveling in the happiness it brought her. He also received things such as sets of silver from colonists whose means were stretched by the occupation, or even items in gold from the better families on the island, which always reached him by way of intermediaries, and he was always understanding and discreet.