Spring Fires (53 page)

"I am shocked, madame, to hear that you might be less than content, spending all your time catering to
me!"
he teased. Then he continued more seriously, "Don't you know, my love, that I adore every part of you? When we return to France, I certainly do not intend that all your talents and intelligence should be wasted."

"Really? What
is
your intent, milord?"

"I would deem it an honor if you would consent to join hands with me and help to restore our family vineyards. I want you at my side, Lisette."

She imagined a future where she could escape the duties of lady of the manor and wander through the vineyards with her husband, assessing the progress of clusters of plump grapes. She could visualize the two of them deep in discussion, huddled in the cool limestone wine caves, then side by side sampling the latest vintage of effervescent Mousseaux or crisp Vouvray. The possibilities for challenge and fulfillment sent a shiver of excitement through Lisette.

"Won't you answer, my love?" Nicholai queried, softly tentative. Had he said something amiss?

Lisette tried to find words to reply, but there were none. She pressed her naked body against the length of his and expressed her feelings with a long, hot kiss. At last she murmured, "I only wish that we didn't have to leave in a few days...."

"Well, it should only be for a year or two—and in the meantime, we will be able to resolve all our affairs in Philadelphia."

"Affairs?"
she echoed, thinking of Amelia Purdy.

Nicholai laughed aloud and kissed her cheek. "The only affair I desire is with you, Madame Beauvisage, and well you know it!"

"If you insist...." She smiled, thinking absently how utterly comfortable his body felt against her own. "But, what shall we do in Philadelphia for all that time?"

He chuckled again, "Well, for one thing, you will manage your CoffeeHouse and decide if you wish to sell it to Hyla and Pierre DuBois."

"Will you help me?" Lisette interrupted, suddenly alarmed by the idea of being away from Nicholai.

"Help
you
? That is a concept I would be interested in exploring. Yes, my darling, if you want my help, I should be very pleased to oblige."

This called for another kiss, but eventually Lisette caught her breath and asked, "What else shall we do to pass the time until we can return here?"

"Well, we could read and talk... and you could paint. I will surely help with the family business, particularly since Father is under the weather...."

"And...?"

"And, I can think of one particular activity that we might share."

Feeling his mouth graze her neck, then slide downward, Lisette could barely find the strength to inquire: "What might that be?"

"The creation of a baby."

"Oh!" Laughter bubbled up inside her. "That would certainly keep me busy!"

"Ma chere,"
Nicholai paused to lift her hand and kiss each finger. "It is a project that requires a dual effort... and I for one hope it is not accomplished overnight!"

The End

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Excerpt from

Caroline

Special Author's Cut Edition

Beauvisage Novel #1

by

Cynthia Wright

Chapter 1

One could hardly imagine a more perfect October day, for the autumn of 1783 had painted the Connecticut landscape in her most glorious colors. The low mountains were a riot of flaming oranges, reds, and yellows which contrasted sharply with the clear azure of the sky. The air had a clean chill to it, and Alexandre Beauvisage, winding his way between the trees astride a handsome stallion, felt very good indeed. He had been brimming with a rich euphoria for over a month now—ever since the final Peace Treaty had been signed in Paris. The last eight years of war had been long but victory made all the bloodshed and tragedy seem worthwhile. The cost of freedom had been high, but that shining prize belonged to America at last.

Granted, it had been two years since the British had laid down their arms to General Washington at Yorktown. Only the most sporadic fighting had occurred since then, and the majority of the American soldiers had been able to go home to their families long ago.

Alec grimaced when he thought back over his own life during the past two years. All through the Revolutionary War, he had only occasionally played the part of soldier; his had been a unique role tailored especially to his talents and background. He had been a mixture of spy and scout, given the trickiest and usually the most dangerous assignments. After Yorktown, Alec had been able to return to his home and business at intervals, but just as he would settle back into a normal pattern of life his services would be needed again.

"We simply can't trust anyone else to carry off this plan without being detected, Beauvisage. You are a master!" the officer in charge would declare. Alec had to admit that despite the terrible aspects of war, there was a certain thrill in the role he played. He had roamed the swamps of South Carolina with Frances Marion, captained a sleek privateer, and drunk cognac with Washington and Lafayette on the banks of the Hudson. He had been required to put his ingenuity and intelligence to full use, and the constant danger had been stimulating. Perhaps the return to full-time everyday life would prove boring?

A bright patch of color beneath a tree at the side of the trail caught Alec's attention, rousing him from his reverie. Gently, he brought his horse, Ivan, to a stop and dismounted, walking back to investigate. It appeared to be a packet of garments drawn hastily together inside a piece of bottle-green silk. He hunkered down among the crisp leaves, preparing to open the bundle, when a soft moan rose from the trees to his left. His head came up, instantly alert, and then he was off as lightly as a cat in the direction of the noise. Soon he spotted its source—a small form lying at the foot of an oak tree about twenty-five feet away. Cautiously, Alec drew a pistol from his belt and moved forward. From a distance, he perceived the figure to be that of a young boy, clad in ill-fitting gray breeches, a loose white work smock, and a green tricorn hat that seemed to cover his entire head. Drawing alongside the boy, he replaced his pistol and knelt down beside the still form. His dark brows came together at the sight of two suspicious shapes outlined against the loose shirt. Tentatively, Alec placed a hand over one of the mounds, which proved beyond a doubt to be a beautifully formed breast.

"What the hell?" he muttered in bewilderment while drawing the green hat off. Lustrous honey-colored hair spilled out over the rusty leaves and Alec let out a low whistle as he bent over the girl's face. She looked little more than eighteen, and for a moment he felt that he must be dreaming. The girl had the face of an angel. Her eyes were fringed by long lashes that brushed her creamy skin. Alec's gaze took in her tiny nose, and came to rest on appealing lips. Gently, he raised her head and cradled it in his arms. Almost instinctively, he tipped her chin up with his forefinger and covered her mouth with his own.

When he felt her lips move gently in response, he drew back, thinking, Who do you think you are, Beauvisage—a damned Prince Charming? Involuntarily, his mouth twisted in a smile of cynical amusement. What do you suppose I've got myself into this time? he wondered, and grinned in spite of himself.

* * *

The girl felt as if she was gliding down to earth from a great height, and seemed to touch ground with only the smallest jolt. She opened her eyes slowly and looked up into a most remarkable face. It was brown and lean, framed by shining raven-black hair drawn casually back and tied at the neck. The man wore a short beard, but it failed to disguise his charming half-smile or the contrast of his gleaming white teeth with tanned skin. Above a straight nose sparkled eyes of an amazing turquoise color which held her own almost against her will. As she became more fully conscious she realized that she felt no fear, although he held her in his arms and his muscles were hard against her cheek.

Alec, for his part, found himself looking into warm caramel-brown eyes flecked with gold. The girl was simply exquisite!

"M'lady, I would, be extremely gratified if you could attempt to explain your presence here. I must confess to a curiosity that grows stronger by the minute!"

As the girl struggled to sit up, Alec braced her with his arm. Gingerly, she raised her hand to touch what proved to be a large lump. Alec gently parted her glossy hair and looked closely at the swollen area. His forehead creased at the sight of the nasty bump and a patch of dried blood.

"Tell me now, what has happened here? What is your name and where do you come from?" His deep voice had grown sharp with concern.

The girl covered her eyes as though collecting her thoughts. Then, slowly, she drew her hand away, her eyes brimming with sudden tears.

"Oh, sir—I don't seem to be able to remember! I cannot recall a thing—not even my own name!"

* * *

Several minutes of questioning brought Alec no closer to the truth. He surmised that the girl had probably been riding and caught her head on a low-hanging branch. Perhaps something had frightened the horse, causing her to lose control. At any rate, the steed was gone, and Alec was left with an injured woman-child dressed in boys' clothing who had no memory of her past.

He had propped her up against a tree trunk and was pacing through the dry leaves. The girl was alternately investigating the contents of the green silk bundle and watching Alec stride to and fro. He moved with a natural grace and suppressed strength that were easy to admire. His fawn-colored breeches were close-fitting and showed the play of muscles in his lean thighs with each step he took. Leather boots, softly shining, rose to his knees, and a linen shirt split halfway down the front to reveal a hard brown chest.

Suddenly the girl's soft voice broke the rhythm of Alec's rustling stride through the leaves.