The Perfumed Sleeve

“Yes!” Her hands dropped her empty cup. She clasped them to her bosom, so agitated by glee that he thought she would swoon. “Oh, yes!”

“A million thanks,” he said, feigning humbleness. “Your generosity is one of the traits I value most in you.” And he meant to take full advantage of it. “From now on, I’ll try to be a better husband. I’ll also try to be a better father. I’ll pay more attention to Kikuko as well as you.”

She glowed with joyous, complete faith in him. People tended to believe what they wanted to believe, and Yanagisawa had fooled many a wiser person. “You’re being so good to me,” she murmured. “How can I ever repay your kindness?”

Yanagisawa smiled in sly satisfaction. “There is a small favor you can do for me.” He leaned close to her, put his lips to her ear, and whispered.

Lady Yanagisawa recoiled in shock from the chamberlain. He raised his eyebrows, prompting a reply. What he’d asked of her was so horrifying that her mind spurned his very words, although she was desperately eager to please him.

“I… I can’t do it,” she said. She averted her eyes from him, afraid to see anger on his face, terrified that he would revert to his usual, cold self. “I couldn’t.”

“Why not?” he said in such a gentle voice that she risked a glance at him. His handsome face showed only concern for her and a wish to understand her objection.

“It’s-it’s wrong.”

Vague suspicion kindled in Lady Yanagisawa. That her husband had suddenly begun to treat her as she’d always hoped now seemed as disturbing as marvelous. Was he putting on an act designed to manipulate her into doing his terrible bidding? Her heart repelled the idea.

“I know it sounds bad,” the chamberlain said, “and I hate asking you to do it, but there’s no one else I can trust. I’m surrounded by enemies and traitors. You’re the only person who’s loyal to me.” His gaze compelled her. “I need you.”

Lady Yanagisawa yearned to fill his need. To commit treachery seemed worthwhile if she could win his approval, yet the ingrained morals of society prohibited her. “I’ve never done anything like that,” she said. “I-I don’t think I’m capable.”

“I know you are,” said the chamberlain.

They both knew she’d done things not so far removed from what he wanted, but she’d excused them as impulses provoked by circumstances beyond her control. If she carried out his wishes, she must act deliberately, with full knowledge of what she did and the possible consequences of her actions.

“I’ll tell you exactly what to say and do,” he said.

“But I couldn’t do that to a friend, or an enemy,” Lady Yanagisawa said.

The chamberlain eyed her with reproach. “Does the welfare of friends and enemies matter more to you than I do?”

“Of course not, my lord!” Lady Yanagisawa hastened to say. “You are the person most important to me.” She huddled, arms wrapped around herself, and shook her head. “But I’m afraid.”

“Afraid of getting in trouble?” When she nodded, the chamberlain said, “Don’t be.” His personality and beauty exerted a powerful force upon her. “I won’t let anything bad happen to you.”

Lady Yanagisawa stiffened her crumbling will. “I just can’t do it.” Her voice wobbled; tears smarted her eyes. She realized that her fondest wishes hinged on obeying him. This dreadful favor was the price of his affection toward Kikuko as well as herself. “Couldn’t I do something else for you instead?” she pleaded.

The chamberlain regarded her with a grave compassion that stirred her ever-present desire for him. “Let me explain why you must do me this favor and none other.”

He took her hand in his. Lady Yanagisawa’s breath caught as the warm press of his flesh sent a thrill of excitation through her.

“I need to weaken my enemies,” he said. “Together we can strike their very heart.”

His fingers fondled and kneaded hers. She sat immobile, her eyelids lowered, savoring his touch and her arousal.

“But if you don’t help me, I’ll lose my fight against Lord Matsudaira. He’ll have my head as his war trophy. You and I will be separated.”

Sadness tinged the chamberlain’s voice. “You wouldn’t want that to happen… would you?”

He eased himself so close beside her that she could hear him breathing, smell his masculine scent of tobacco smoke and wintergreen hair oil. The nearness of him raised a hot, tumultuous fever in her blood. He stroked her cheek.

A groan escaped Lady Yanagisawa as her skin burned under the caress that wandered over her lips, trailed down her throat. He loosened her robes. His intense, luminous gaze and smile transfixed her as he caressed her breasts. Her nipples hardened and tingled. She cried out with a pleasure and a kee

“If you love me, you’ll help me,” the chamberlain murmured, his breath like fire upon her ear.

Lady Yanagisawa heard his meaning that he would never love her unless she gave in. “Please,” she whimpered, begging him to love her without conditions attached. Ravenous for him, she clutched at his surcoat and pulled him toward her.

The chamberlain pried her fingers off him, sat back on his heels. “Not until you’ve done what I’ve asked.”

Beautiful and adamant, alluring and cruel, he loomed over Lady Yanagisawa. Her desperate need for him shattered the remains of her will. If she wanted him to fulfill her lusts and dreams, she had no choice but to capitulate. Sobs of terror and surrender convulsed Lady Yanagisawa.

“Yes,” she cried, “I’ll do it.”

17

An hour’s brisk ride out of Edo brought Hirata to Asakusa Ka

They would be furious. If only he’d just put up with them instead of ru

Inside the temple precinct, Buddhist and Shinto religion coexisted with commerce. Market stalls decorated with colorful lanterns and ba

Hirata walked past the main hall to Asakusa Jinja Shrine, dedicated to the men whose discovery of a statue of Ka