Florentyna laughed and sat happily listening to Scott tell stories of Harvard, his family and his life in Boston. For the rest of the evening she danced only with one man and when the night came to an end he accompanied her back to Radcliffe.
‘Can I see you tomorrow?’ Scott asked.
‘Yes, of course.’
‘Why don’t we drive out to the country and have lunch together?’
‘I’d like that.’
Florentyna and Bella spent most of that night telling each other about their respective partners.
‘Do you think it matters that he’s straight out of the Social Register?’
‘Not if he’s a man worth taking seriously,’ replied Bella, aware of just how real Florentyna’s fears were. ‘I have no idea if Claude is in any social register,’ she added.
The next morning, Scott Roberts and Florentyna drove out into the countryside in his smart new MG. She had never been happier in her life. They lunched in a little restaurant in Dedham which was full of people whom Scott seemed to know. Florentyna was introduced to a Lowell, a Winthrop, a Cabot and another Roberts. She was relieved to see Edward Winchester coming toward her from a corner table, leading an attractive dark-haired girl by the hand — at least, Florentyna thought, I know someone. She was astonished at how handsome and happy Edward looked and soon found out why, when he introduced his fiancée, Danielle.
‘You two ought to get on famously,’ said Edward.
‘Why?’ asked Florentyna, smiling at the girl.
‘Danielle is French and I’ve been telling her for a long time that I might have been the Dauphin but even when I declared you were a witch, you had to teach me how to pronounce socière.’
As Florentyna watched them depart hand in hand, Scott said quietly, ‘Je n’ai jamais pensé que je tomberais amoureux d’une sorcière.’
Florentyna chose a simple meal of Dover sole and nodded her approval of his selection of Muscadet, grateful for her knowledge of food and wine, and was surprised to find at four o’clock that they were the only two left in the restaurant, with a headwaiter hinting that the time might have come to prepare for the evening meal. When they returned to Radcliffe, Scott kissed her gently on the cheek and said he would call her tomorrow.
He phoned during lunchtime the next day to ask if she could bear to watch him play ice hockey for the junior varsity against Penn on Saturday and suggested dinner together afterward.
Florentyna accepted, masking her delight, for she couldn’t wait to see him again. It seemed the longest week in her life.
On Saturday morning she made one important decision about her weekend with Scott. She packed a small suitcase and put it in the trunk of her car before driving to the rink long before the face-off. She sat in the bleachers, waiting for Scott to arrive. For a moment she feared he might not feel the same way about her when they met for a third time, but he dispelled that fear in a moment when he waved and skated across the ice toward her.
‘Bella said I can’t come home if you lose.’
‘Perhaps I don’t want you to,’ he said, as he glided slantingly away.
She watched the game, becoming colder and colder. Scott hardly seemed to touch the puck all afternoon, but he still managed to get slammed repeatedly into the boards. She decided that it was a stupid sport but that she would not tell him so. After the match was over, she sat in her car waiting for him to change; then another reception and at last they were on their own. He took her to Locke-Ober’s, where again he seemed to know everyone, but this time she did not recognize anybody other than those she had seen in the fashionable magazines. He didn’t notice, as he could not have been more attentive, which helped Florentyna relax. Once more, they were the last to leave, and he drove her back to her car. He kissed her gently on the lips.
‘Would you like to come to lunch at Radcliffe tomorrow?’
‘I can’t,’ he said. ‘I have a paper to finish in the morning, and I’m not sure I can complete it before two o’clock. You couldn’t bear joining me for tea?’
‘Of course I will, silly.’
‘What a pity. If I had known I would have booked you a room in the guest quarters.’
‘What a pity,’ echoed Florentyna, thinking of the unopened suitcase lying in the trunk of her car.
The next day, Scott picked her up shortly after three and took her back to his rooms for tea. She smiled as he closed the door, remembering that it was still not allowed at Radcliffe. His room was considerably larger than hers and on his desk was a picture of an aristocratic, slightly severe-looking lady who could only have been his mother. As Florentyna took in the room she realized that none of the furniture belonged to Harvard. After he had given her tea they listened to America’s new singing idol, Elvis Presley, before Scott put on Frank Sinatra singing ‘Stranger in Paradise’ and they danced, each wondering what was in the other’s mind. When they sat down on the sofa, he kissed her at first gently, then with passion. He seemed reluctant to go any further and Florentyna was both too shy and too ignorant to help him. Suddenly he placed a hand over her breast as if waiting for Florentyna’s reaction. At last his hand moved to the top of her dress and fumbled with the first button. Florentyna made no attempt to stop him as he continued with the second. Soon he was kissing her, first on the shoulder, then on her breast. Florentyna wanted him so badly that she almost made the next move herself, but quite suddenly, he stood up and took off his shirt. In response she quickly slipped out of her dress and let her shoes fall to the floor. They made their way to the bed, clumsily trying to remove what was left of each other’s clothing. For a moment they stared at each other before climbing onto the bed. To her surprise the pleasure of making love seemed to be over in seconds.
‘I’m sorry, I was awful,’ said Florentyna.
‘No, no, it was me.’ He paused. ‘I might as well admit it, that was my first time.’
‘Not you as well?’ she said, and they both burst out laughing.
They lay in each other’s arms for the rest of the evening and made love twice more, each time with greater pleasure and confidence. When Florentyna woke in the morning, cramped and rather tired but exultantly happy, she felt instinctively they would spend the rest of their lives together. For the remainder of that term they saw each other every weekend, and sometimes during the week as well.
In the spring vacation, they met secretly in New York, and Florentyna spent the happiest three days she could remember. On the Waterfront, Limelight and, on Broadway, South Pacific preceded the ‘21’ Club, Sardi’s and even the Oak Room at the Plaza. During the day they shopped, visited the Frick and walked through the park. When she returned home at night, her arms were laden with presents, which ended up by the side of her bed.
The spring term was idyllic and they were rarely out of each other’s company. As it drew to a close, Scott invited Florentyna to spend a week in Marblehead to meet his parents.
‘I know they’ll love you,’ he said as he put her on the train to Chicago.
‘I hope so,’ she replied.
Florentyna spent hours telling her mother how wonderful Scott was and how much she was bound to love him. Zaphia was delighted to see her daughter so happy and genuinely looked forward to meeting Scott’s parents. She prayed Florentyna had found someone with whom she could spend the rest of her life, and had not made an impulsive decision that she would later regret. Florentyna selected yards of different-colored silks from Marshall Field’s and passed the evenings designing a dress she felt certain would capture the heart of Scott’s mother.