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the shivers of revulsion to abate. The wounding, tearing soreness would not go away so easily. This coupling had been rough and cold, devoid of love. Could there be no love, ever?
           Carrie lay dry-eyed and frozen when Noah finally reached over and doused the candle. Then he pulled the covers over his lower body, paying no further attention to his wife. Best to let a shocked virgin cool her indignation. Damn shame good women have to be so wooden. Give me a good whore for fun any day, but a wife—that's another matter. Well, she'll never be a lively piece in bed, but then, I can fill that need elsewhere. At least she won't laugh at me or compare me to other men, like Lola did.  
           Silently he cursed that bitch and then turned his thoughts to the young beauty lying next to him. He'd have her breeding in a month or two, damn him if he wouldn't! On that positive note, he fell into a deep dreamless sleep while Carrie watched the dark reflections of the Mississippi ebb and flow against the ceiling.
     
    * * * *
     
           Noah was always an early riser, and the day after his wedding was no exception. He looked down at his sleeping wife. Her eyes were darkly shadowed and her face pale. He had slept soundly and was unaware that she lay awake for hours. Considering how childlike and frail she looked now, he decided to let her rest for a while. No reason to tax her too much too soon. He must school himself to be patient and let her become accustomed to his ways. Once she's pregnant, she'll be content, and then I can turn my attentions to other matters, he thought complacently. Quietly he left the room.
           Hearing the door click, Carrie awakened, as if climbing out of a dank, menacing cave. She was disoriented as only an exhausted and depressed person can be. Gradually, the previous night came back to her. She shuddered, then sobbed aloud, letting the dam break on the roiling emotions she had held in check for the past several days.
           I am married to a coldhearted stranger whose bed I must share each night. Oh, it was so rough and degrading. How could I ever have thought... Her thoughts dissolved in a startled gasp of pain when she slid across the bed to put her feet on the floor. He had hurt her! When she gingerly stood up and looked at the faint smears of blood on the sheets, she whitened. A quick examination of her gown told the tale of their origin.
           “I must have a bath! Oh, God, I have to be clean!” As if someone had read her mind, there was a discreet tap on the door. Carrie answered, “Who is there?”
           “Steward, ma'am. Your husband requested hot bath water and a tub. We've brought them.”
           In a few short moments Carrie was blissfully luxuriating in the hot scented water, restoring her bruised and torn flesh. Youth imparts a certain resiliency, and Carrie found she possessed more of that quality than she had ever suspected. Once she took inventory of her body and assured herself that she would mend, her mind turned to her benefactor. Well, at least he had been thoughtful enough to send the bath. She was grateful, but she was also apprehensive of the coming night.
           Maybe it wouldn't be so bad if I could learn to care for him. Perhaps it isn't just the difference in our ages. Even if I'd married Gerald I might .have been just as unhappy with...bed. Even in her innermost thoughts Carrie couldn't bring herself to say the word “sex,” and she could certainly see no reason to call it “making love”!
           If only she'd had a female confidante. Her aunt's mores had given her the notion that women weren't supposed to enjoy sex. Perhaps they could not do so even if they were base enough to try.
           However, Carrie remembered her parents and how much they had loved one another. When she had believed herself in love with Gerald Rawlins, she had certainly enjoyed his kisses. Love. That must be the key to