Read Online The Private Papers of Eastern Jewel by Maureen Lindley - Free Book Online
Authors: Maureen Lindley
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return to my rooms. I excused his long absences. I told myself that building a military career took time, and I was convinced that his dedication to his profession would carry him to the top. We were alike, he and I, and I believed that his feelings for me were as strong as mine were for him.
I told Kawashima that I did not want him to send me anyone but Yamaga. He shrugged his shoulders and said that I would soon tire of the boy and that he himself would find it no hardship. I was insulted by his indifference, as despite wanting only Yamaga my body missed the habit of my stepfather's cruel lovemaking, and I was surprised that he did not care about losing mine.
It was always a celebration when Yamaga came. He usually stayed the whole night, giving us time to eat and bathe together, to tell each other the stories of our lives and to laugh at the rest of the world. We made love and ate the good food that Sorry brought us, always apologising for her intrusion. We played cards for money and sometimes we fenced a little dangerously. Yamaga liked to win, it was important to him and, apart from myself, I have never since met anyone so competitive.
Those nights we shared were precious to me and I could not bear to waste them in sleep. I would watch Yamaga as he slept and delight in his even breathing. In an agony of love I would wake him with kisses and cry when he made love to me, so different was it to anything I had ever experienced before.
It seemed that the gods had at last smiled on me and sent the most beautiful and brave man in all of Japan to accompany me through life. There is nothing more splendid than a Japanese man at the peak of his powers. With my rich dowry and unusual beauty I thought that I would be as good a catch for him as he was for me. Freedom was no longer my aim. To be with Yamaga was all I desired. Marriage to him would be no sacrifice; he was a modern man, we would be equals. I liked the idea of choosing my own husband and decided that I would declare my love to him and suggest that he ask Kawashima to give me to him in marriage. After all, Kawashima had sent him to me and that must mean Yamaga had influence and was a person to be indulged.
On the day I proposed to Yamaga I woke in the dying dawn to the muffled sounds of the servants going about the house. Above the city the sky, a white vault streaked with pink, housed a solitary hunting hawk. It was cold, with a trail of snow in the air. I sensed that this was the day that Yamaga would come and even though I knew it would not be until nightfall, I was full of the disquiet of longing. Sorry served me a breakfast of persimmons steeped in honey, and a bowl of golden tea. I was too restless to eat, but I drank the tea and smoked two Turkish cigarettes. I went to the market and tried to occupy myself but I could not think straight and bought neroli oil instead of the rose one I wanted to scent my rooms. Neroli is too astringent a fragrance for lovemaking, while the soft musk of rose oil is perfect. The day passed slowly, as it will when every second is counted, and by dusk I was aching for Yamaga.
Before dark I began to dress, choosing a deep-blue underkimono of silk, embroidered with a border of white clover and red poppies. I took great care with my appearance, brushing my skin with pumice and sweetening my breath with liquorice wood. I softened my body with a peppery chrysanthemum oil that made my skin glow and hung Natsuko's black pearl between my breasts. At last Yamaga came, brushing the snow from the shoulders of his uniform, his hands stiff with cold. I sent Sorry scurrying to bring a foot warmer while I served him a shot of sake to heat his blood.
Our first lovemaking that night was passionate but over quickly, leaving us breathless and laughing at our haste. Later we shared a bath so hot that it made me dizzy. Yamaga bathed me, lathering my breasts with a green soap that smelt of ferns. His hands were firm and confident and as I mounted him in
I told Kawashima that I did not want him to send me anyone but Yamaga. He shrugged his shoulders and said that I would soon tire of the boy and that he himself would find it no hardship. I was insulted by his indifference, as despite wanting only Yamaga my body missed the habit of my stepfather's cruel lovemaking, and I was surprised that he did not care about losing mine.
It was always a celebration when Yamaga came. He usually stayed the whole night, giving us time to eat and bathe together, to tell each other the stories of our lives and to laugh at the rest of the world. We made love and ate the good food that Sorry brought us, always apologising for her intrusion. We played cards for money and sometimes we fenced a little dangerously. Yamaga liked to win, it was important to him and, apart from myself, I have never since met anyone so competitive.
Those nights we shared were precious to me and I could not bear to waste them in sleep. I would watch Yamaga as he slept and delight in his even breathing. In an agony of love I would wake him with kisses and cry when he made love to me, so different was it to anything I had ever experienced before.
It seemed that the gods had at last smiled on me and sent the most beautiful and brave man in all of Japan to accompany me through life. There is nothing more splendid than a Japanese man at the peak of his powers. With my rich dowry and unusual beauty I thought that I would be as good a catch for him as he was for me. Freedom was no longer my aim. To be with Yamaga was all I desired. Marriage to him would be no sacrifice; he was a modern man, we would be equals. I liked the idea of choosing my own husband and decided that I would declare my love to him and suggest that he ask Kawashima to give me to him in marriage. After all, Kawashima had sent him to me and that must mean Yamaga had influence and was a person to be indulged.
On the day I proposed to Yamaga I woke in the dying dawn to the muffled sounds of the servants going about the house. Above the city the sky, a white vault streaked with pink, housed a solitary hunting hawk. It was cold, with a trail of snow in the air. I sensed that this was the day that Yamaga would come and even though I knew it would not be until nightfall, I was full of the disquiet of longing. Sorry served me a breakfast of persimmons steeped in honey, and a bowl of golden tea. I was too restless to eat, but I drank the tea and smoked two Turkish cigarettes. I went to the market and tried to occupy myself but I could not think straight and bought neroli oil instead of the rose one I wanted to scent my rooms. Neroli is too astringent a fragrance for lovemaking, while the soft musk of rose oil is perfect. The day passed slowly, as it will when every second is counted, and by dusk I was aching for Yamaga.
Before dark I began to dress, choosing a deep-blue underkimono of silk, embroidered with a border of white clover and red poppies. I took great care with my appearance, brushing my skin with pumice and sweetening my breath with liquorice wood. I softened my body with a peppery chrysanthemum oil that made my skin glow and hung Natsuko's black pearl between my breasts. At last Yamaga came, brushing the snow from the shoulders of his uniform, his hands stiff with cold. I sent Sorry scurrying to bring a foot warmer while I served him a shot of sake to heat his blood.
Our first lovemaking that night was passionate but over quickly, leaving us breathless and laughing at our haste. Later we shared a bath so hot that it made me dizzy. Yamaga bathed me, lathering my breasts with a green soap that smelt of ferns. His hands were firm and confident and as I mounted him in
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