Emerald Ecstasy (21 page)

Fear shot through her. “Hit me and I'll scream. The law shall be on your head in an instant.”

He laughed, but his amusement didn't reach his eyes. “No one will rescue you, Lianne. You forget you're in a quadroon's house, and by law, I own it, and Chloe, just as I own you. In these matters the law won't dare interfere. A man has right to reprimand his wife, and the neighbors are discreet enough to look the other way.”

“Let me go.” She struggled to break loose, but he refused to loosen his grip. With a violent blow to her face, he sent her hurling onto the sofa. She lay there a second until the dizzy sensation stopped, but before she could gather her wits, he yanked her up and pushed her against a wall. “I'm your husband, and your master, Lianne. I own you and expect your obedience. After today you'll never think of spying on me again!” His face was contorted, and his voice grated harshly upon her ears. She squirmed to break free, tried vainly to kick at him. Her struggles infuriated him more.

“Scream, Lianne! I want to know you're submissive to me, that I can do anything I wish to you and you'll accept it. Scream for me, Lianne! Scream!”

Hate surged through her and a harsh shriek spilled from her like the cry of a wounded dove. “Animal! Animal!”

His face didn't resemble anything human. “Honorine called me that. No one calls Philippe Marchand an animal!”

Stark fear glittered in Lianne's eyes, and for a brief instant, just before his fist came down upon her head with a mighty thud, she thought of Daniel.

“Daniel. Daniel.” Lianne's moans barely penetrated her fogged brain. Pain shot constantly through her body, and her head felt weighted down, almost as if an anchor was tied to her neck. She had no conception of time, no awareness of the solicitous movements around her, no knowledge that Chloe bathed her body, or that she forced a soothing broth down her throat.

At one lucid moment she did open her eyes and wonder where she was. A strange bed, a soft gown, but the pain! Then she heard a noise like a squeaking chair and saw a dark shadow bending over her.

“Daniel.” Her whisper was barely audible. The shadow loomed closer. In the candlelight she noticed a face with an eye covered by a black patch. But the other eye was dark and glittering.

“I'm not Daniel,
querida.”

She barely mouthed the name—de Lovis! Was she dreaming? He couldn't be standing over her. She had killed him in Madrid. Or had that been a dream? She couldn't think any longer and didn't want to. She slipped into the painless realm of sleep.

When she finally woke to a cold morning, she found the fireplace had been lit. The dancing flames warmed her and glided across the logs in a graceful arabesque. Lianne sat up, her hair tumbled across her shoulders and matched the flames. She groaned, however, because her body was still incredibly sore. But her head hurt more. When she put her hand to her forehead, she found it had been bandaged.

The whole horrible situation with Philippe came back to her, and for an instant she felt waves of fear lapping over her. Chloe walked into the bedroom with a bright smile and carried a tray which contained a cup of hot tea and a bowl of broth.

“Are you feeling better, Madame Marchand? You've been quite ill the last few days.”

Chloe laid the tray on a small table and opened the curtains, allowing the bright sunshine to enter the room.

“Where is Philippe?” Lianne asked, not hiding her fear.

Chloe shook her head. “Do not worry about him. Philippe is at Belle Riviere. He shall not come near you. He has his orders.”

“Orders? From whom?”

Chloe bit her tongue. “No one, madame. Just know he'll not bother you again.”

Lianne watched as Chloe added honey to the tea, then presented it to her. “You must regain your strength.”

Taking the cup, Lianne smiled her thanks. “You're the one who has been caring for me, aren't you?”

“Oui,
madame. Philippe did a terrible thing to you.”

“You're very kind to allow me to stay here, to take over your room. Where is your son?”

“Jean Marc stays with my mother while I tend to you. I don't wish him to see the damage his father has done. No matter what Philippe is, he is still his father and Jean Marc must respect him.”

“I will divorce him, Chloe.”

“I know that, madame.”

“Call me Lianne.”

“That is kind of you … Lianne.”

They sat in silent friendship while Lianne drank the tea and the broth. When she finished, she looked at Chloe.

“Was someone here with me while I was ill?”

“Here? Why would you think that?”

The memory of de Lovis's face, bending over the bed, haunted her. It had seemed so real. “I thought I saw a man I knew in Spain.”

Chloe laughed, a bit too shortly. “Oh, Lianne, you must have dreamed him.”

“I suppose I did,” she said after a few moments. When Chloe began to pick up the tray, Lianne touched her arm. “Could you do me a favor? I'm sure you're familiar with Daniel Flanders, the man who is married to Philippe's sister. I'd like you to get a message to him. I want to see him.”

Chloe's mouth fell open. “I cannot!”

“Please, Chloe, I must see him. I love him.” Tears sprang to Lianne's eyes and touched Chloe's heart. Chloe knew she shouldn't do this, that Lianne's request would cause untold misery for all of them. But no one at Belle Riviere need ever know if she was discreet.

Chloe nodded her dark head. “I shall have your Daniel brought to you, Lianne.”

Amelie restlessly paced the length of the veranda, watching the horses graze in the open fields. Despite the cold morning, she wore only a thin shawl. But she didn't feel the cold breeze. All she felt was keen disappointment that Claude no longer slept in the small bedroom next to hers. She hadn't seen him since the last night they made love, the night she had gone to Daniel. Had he abandoned her?

She was so deep in her thoughts she didn't notice the creak of the French doors until she heard Daniel's voice. “Amelie, you'll catch your death out here in that flimsy shawl. Come inside and have breakfast.”

Ever the solicitous husband! she thought, but went inside and joined him at the dining room table. However, she barely glanced at the platter of bacon and eggs as a slight wave of nausea assailed her. She watched Daniel and realized how devastatingly handsome he looked despite the clothes he wore. He threw on any shirt or pants that were nearby, not caring if they matched. However, she couldn't doubt his good looks, and sometimes found his probing gray eyes exciting when they lit with passion.

If she didn't love Claude so much, she realized she could very easily love Daniel again. After all, she went to his bed every night, taking her own pleasure in his arms and hoping she gave him some. Without being aware of it, Daniel was doing her a tremendous favor. As soon as she told him about her pregnancy, however, their intimacy would stop. She must convince him the child she carried was his. Most of all she prayed for a light-skinned child. Things were working out well for her.

“You're not eating again?” Daniel's words broke into her reverie. “You've barely eaten at all the last few weeks.”

“I'm just not too hungry in the morning,” she said and pushed down another wave of nausea.

“Perhaps Doctor Markham should check you.”

“Yes. I'll send word for him to visit Green Meadows shortly. I know your mother enjoys seeing him.” And he can confirm my pregnancy, she decided.

“I have to check one of the slave cabins this morning. Old Benny complains it leaks when it rains. He should have told Haus about it before now.”

Amelie brightened. “May I go with you?”

Daniel leaned back in his chair. A lock of dark hair fell across his forehead, and she felt the probing eyes upon her face. “Whatever for, Amelie?”

“I should learn more about the plantation since I'll be mistress of it one day.”

He laughed. “Don't let Mother hear you say that. She isn't ready to retire yet.”

“Please may I go with you?”

Amelie looked like such an eager child with her eyes so full of hope that he couldn't refuse her. For the past few weeks she'd acted the perfect wife, and he had a soft spot in his heart for her. Yet each night he stared at the ceiling after they made love, and she wasn't the woman he thought about. His loins ached, his heart cried for Lianne. She was so much like the sun, dazzling and warm. He didn't think Amelie would ever compare to her or make him feel the way he did when he kissed Lianne. He pushed his plate aside and stood up. Perhaps he should let the matter rest and content himself with Amelie. Lianne would never be his.

“Find yourself a warm cloak, and let's go,” he told Amelie.

Within minutes Amelie and Daniel sipped tea in Old Benny's cabin, prepared and graciously served by Felice, his wife.

“You see, Master Daniel,” Benny pointed to the roof when they finished, “the bad weather comes right through the ceiling. And soon the rainy season will begin. Me and Felice ain't young no more. The chill goes right through our old bones.”

“I'll have the roof repaired this afternoon. You should have told Haus about this. Then he could have gotten the repairs done sooner.”

“I did tell him, Master Daniel.”

“I'll speak to him about this. Now you rest easy, Benny. By tonight you'll be safe and warm.”

“Thank you, master.”

Daniel went onto the porch, intent upon looking for Haus. As overseer it was his job to repair the cabins for the slaves. Daniel disliked the term “slaves,” and so did his mother. He wanted to free all of them and hire them out, but he knew his neighbors wouldn't care for that.

“I'll be back as soon as I speak to Haus,” Daniel told Amelie and started to help her into the carriage.

“That's all right. I don't mind standing here with Benny.”

He left her there, and when he disappeared behind a row of cabins, she asked Benny, “Have you seen Claude?”

“He be in the barn, missy.”

“Thank you,” she said and casually sauntered in that direction. Entering the dimly lit barn, the smell of fresh hay assailed her, and she heard the distinct whinnying of the horses. She hadn't been here since the night she ran from Green Meadows and fell from that devil horse Bayrum. She shivered to recall it and to think how different things would have been if Claude had stopped her. She'd probably never have known him, fallen in love with him. Claude gave her a reason to live.

A woman's giggle drew her attention. Amelie moved forward but stopped when she heard it again. The rustling sound of hay came from inside Bayrum's stall, and then another giggle. Her heart pounding in her ears, she inched toward the sound.

Peering into the stall, her heart did stop at what she saw. And when it started up again, she extinguished a huge breath. Claude lay naked with the house wench Ella. His mouth and hands moved in wanton abandon over the girl's dark flesh, giving Ella the same pleasures he'd once given her. She stared in mute shock, not able to fully comprehend the scene before her.

A strangled sob escaped her. Claude heard it and glanced up. His dark eyes grew huge, and they stared in agony at the sight of the pale, lovely Amelie with hands clutched to her slender throat.

“Amelie!”

“No!” She picked up her skirts and ran from the barn. Tears of pain, humiliation, streaked her cheeks and when she bumped into Daniel, she couldn't speak.

“What's wrong?” he cried.

At that instant Claude lumbered out, fastening his pants with a fearful Ella behind him who hurriedly buttoned her dress.

“God damn!” Bruno Haus stopped beside Daniel. “Your wife must have seen that uppity slave mating with the girl in the barn.” Daniel took her arm and he escorted Amelie's shaking form to the carriage. “Come to the house, Claude!”

Daniel lifted Amelie from the carriage and carried her inside.

“What happened?” Dera asked, growing alarmed at Amelie's paleness.

“She's had a shock. Send to New Orleans for Doctor Markham.”

“I'm sorry you saw that,” he said after Dera's departure from the room. “I can't believe Claude would be so crude.”

Amelie looked at Daniel as if she didn't see him. All she saw in her mind's eye was Claude pleasuring Ella in the special ways he reserved for her.

She grew aware when Claude and Ella entered the parlor. Seeming ill at ease, he jostled from one foot to the other, but he watched Amelie through defiant eyes, tinged with pain. Ella, however, glanced at the floor and never lifted her gaze to anyone.

“What have you two to say for yourselves?” Daniel folded his arm across his chest, dismayed at Amelie's distress but secretly approving of Claude's taste in women. “I can think of no answer, monsieur, other than the truth. Madame Amelie's eyes do not lie. I apologize. Ella isn't to blame, so if anyone is to be punished, punish me. I seduced her.”