Deceive Not My Heart (58 page)

The expression in his hard blue eyes difficult to understand, Morgan stared at her for a moment, and then gently but firmly he pulled her unresistingly into his strong arms. Her cheek crushed up against the smooth cloth of his jacket, she felt his hand moving with incredible gentleness over her hair. "Shush, little firebrand," he murmured into the tawny curls that tickled his chin. "Did you really think you
could,
disgust me?" he asked unsteadily. Not giving her a chance to answer, he added softly, "I consider it an honor to have you and Justin in my life." Tipping her head up with warm fingers, the blue eyes searched her tear-wet face. "Leonie..." He stopped uncertain what to say, but wanting to say something to ease her pain, to lessen her shame. "It all happened a long time ago—there is no need to punish yourself for something that you couldn't help. You have a fine son... no matter who his father is. And if you'll allow me, I'd like to take the place of his unknown father—I would be proud to call Justin my own."

For a long time they simply stood there staring at each other, each a little hesitant, each a little wary of the other's reaction. And yet as the seconds passed and Leonie saw no sign of the revulsion and condemnation she was positive he would feel, the icy ball of pain that had been lodged in her chest melted. With eyes full of wonderment, she looked at his lean face. "You don't mind?" she got out eventually.

Morgan's mouth twisted. "Of course, I mind!" Something cold and deadly entering the blue eyes, he said harshly, "I'd like to kill the bastard! And if I ever find out who it was, I'm very likely to do just that!"

Her tears drying, a curious lightness spreading through her entire body, the huge, leaden weight of shame she had carried for so long lifting from her heart, she reached up and with shy fingers gently traced the outline of his wide mouth. In a voice that only shook slightly, she murmured, "You are so kind. So much kinder than I ever dreamed. I am grateful to you, monsieur... so
very
grateful!"

Morgan jerked as if stung, and in an unfriendly tone of voice, he snapped, "I don't need, nor do I
want
your gratitude, damnit!"

Bewildered, she stared back at him. "But I
am
grateful. You could have been cruel to Justin, but you weren't. You have been exceedingly kind to him... even to me, and it would be spiteful and mean of me not to tell you of my gratitude, not to express my thankfulness for the way you have treated Justin."

"Very well, you expressed it," Morgan said ungraciously. "So let's just forget about it, shall we?" He didn't mean to be so curt, but as gratitude was the
last
thing he wanted from Leonie, her words had given him an uncomfortable shock. Perhaps it was
only
gratitude that had made her accept his offer of a truce, he thought sourly. Only gratitude that kept her by his side? It was a painful assumption on his part, but one that couldn't be ignored. And remembering the note that burned in his vest pocket, he wondered if paying off de la Fontaine had been the wisest thing to do under the circumstances. Might that make her feel even more indebted to him? He wanted her love, not her damned gratitude!

Frustration with the situation and fury at Ashley's imposture eating at him like acid, he turned away and muttered, "I think we've said enough about the entire affair." And changing the subject abruptly, he asked, "Will you show me the boundaries of the plantation?"

Confused by his attitude and dismayed at the coolness that had fallen between them, a subdued Leonie began to point out the various landmarks that set the bounds of the property. There was silence as they tramped over the land, Morgan politely helping her over any obstacles that lay in their path—a fallen cedar tree, the boggy remains of a bayou, sagging fences that lined the property.

Standing near the edge of a dark, sluggish-moving bayou, Morgan looked over in the opposite direction over towards a hardly discernible Mississippi River. "This is the rear boundary? You own from here to the river?"

Leonie nodded her head, her eyes straying wistfully to the luxuriant, rich acres that lay on the other side of the bayou. "We used to own the land that surrounds the Chateau, but all that was sold when
grand-pere
died." She sighed. "Without the land, the plantation can barely support itself."

"Mmm, you're right about that," Morgan answered, his fingers gingerly touching the frond of a prickly Spanish dagger plant that grew nearby. Idly his gaze rested on the tasseled tops of the sugar cane that was growing in the fields on the other side of the bayou. He had to tell her he had paid the note, and despite having had second thoughts about the wisdom of what he had done, he knew he couldn't have done otherwise. From gratitude could grow love, he reminded himself, knowing he would hate for his love to come to him because of gratitude. But what else could he have done? he asked himself bitterly. Watch her pay out every penny of that damned dowry on the Chateau, when he could do it and not even miss the money? She had suffered enough because of Ashley and he could not,
would
not, stand by and watch her lose the independence the dowry would give her. It was hers to use for the little elegancies she might desire, for the many things that are dear to a woman's heart... for all the lovely personal things she had never known—not to provide a roof over their heads!
That,
he vowed, was
his
concern!

Knowing he could not put off the moment indefinitely, he reached into his vest pocket and extracted the signed note. Almost offhandedly, he said, "I have something for you." A wry smile tugging at the corners of his full mouth, he murmured, "You might consider it a token of my esteem."

Despite his casual behavior Leonie was conscious of an odd tension about him. Puzzled, she reached for the paper he held in his hand. The document crackled loudly in the uneasy silence that had fallen between them. A frown marred her smooth forehead as she glanced at the paper, her eyes widening with shock. A dazed, confused look on her face, she muttered, "But how is this?
Mon Dieu,
how did you get this?"

Studiously keeping his face expressionless, Morgan said, "I think it should be obvious. I saw Monsieur LeFort and arranged for the note to be paid off."

Her frown increased as she stared first at him, then at the paper. Not quite understanding, she finally asked, "Do you mean that instead of paying me the dowry, you have paid off the note?"

Aware that he was entering extremely dangerous ground now, Morgan answered carefully, "No, that isn't quite what I mean. The note is yours; the Chateau is free of debt
and
the dowry is yours too."

Leonie stared up at him, her head cocked a little to one side. Inside her breast was a raging conflict, part of her overjoyed and delighted that the Chateau had been saved, but another part of her confused and perhaps just a little angry at his high-handed actions. She hadn't expected him to shoulder her debts; all she had ever wanted was what had been owed to her, and she wasn't certain how she felt about his generous action. Her pride would allow no hint of charity, though, and stiffly she said, "With the debt paid I shall not need the dowry... except what little would have remained."

"Nonsense!" Morgan snapped, his mouth thinning slightly. "I
owe
you the Chateau, as well as the dowry, you little fool!" he said sharply. "If Ash—If
I
hadn't taken the dowry when I did, there would have been no debt in the first place. And you should be entitled to some sort of interest on money I've had the use of for these past years."

Leonie wasn't positive she liked being called a little fool and her sea-green eyes sparkled with growing anger. Proudly, she returned, "There was never any discussion of interest between us in the beginning. I see no reason why you should bring it up now."

"Well, I damn well am!" Morgan shot back, his temper rising as quickly as hers. Controlling himself with an effort, he said in a calmer tone of voice, "I'm probably handling this delicate situation with ham-fisted finesse, sweetheart, but I don't mean to. As your husband I want to pay off the Chateau and I want you to have the dowry—can't you understand that?" Dryly, he added, "Accept it as a sign of my reformed character—take it as proof that I am not the scoundrel you thought."

Her indecision was plain. She wanted to take his words at face value, to take this unexpected action as a sign that he cared for her, but suspicion and pride died hard. Suspicion she could deal with, firmly quashing any ugly thoughts, but her pride was something else. It wasn't proper, she decided stubbornly, for him to take on her debts. And while she appreciated his efforts in her behalf, she could not accept such lavish generosity. Her heart was warmed by his extravagant gift though, and she was aware of an intense feeling of pleasure at the thought of his gracious activity on her behalf.

A regretful little smile curving her mouth, she said gently, "Monsieur, I do not want to appear boorish, but I cannot accept such a generous present from you." Her eyes pleading with his, she added, "Please understand... it wouldn't be fitting."

Morgan regarded her, wanting to shake her until her teeth rattled and force her to give in, and yet, he was touched and moved at her reluctance to do so. Finally he shrugged, and said mildly, "Very well, my dear, if you don't want it, you don't have to have it. But it really is a shame, you know."

Wary now, the uncertainty obvious in the sea-green eyes, she asked, "Why?"

Morgan sighed heavily, dramatically. "Well, you see... I had rather hoped that we could form a... partnership. It so happens that I am buying all of the land that originally went with the Chateau Saint-Andre." Glancing at her, he added with deceptive indifference, "It would have been an excellent situation—the combining of the entire estate into one ownership again. Ah well, I guess it isn't to be."

Leonie stared at him openmouthed, and swallowed convulsively. A look of dawning wonderment, of fierce joy sweeping across her face, she clutched his jacket lapels and squeaked, "All of it? You bought all of it?"

A little smile lifting the corner of his mouth, a gently mocking light in the blue eyes, he nodded. "All of it."

For endless moments Leonie looked at him, her thoughts chaotic, a dozen different suggestions rioting through her brain. She was literally—and perhaps for the first time in her life—speechless. It had been her secret dream, a cherished fantasy that someday, all of the land might be reclaimed. She had known it was only a wild dream, but she had clung to it as fiercely as she had the desire to regain her home. Suddenly, unexpectedly to have it within her reach was stunning, breathtaking.

She swallowed again and then to her utter horror she felt her eyes film over and she burst into tears. Something inside of her had snapped, and her entire body shook with the force of the sobs that racked her slender form.

Almost as horrified as she was, Morgan stared at her helplessly for a second, and then enfolded her in his embrace, his strong arms cradling her trembling body. "Sweetheart, don't cry," he begged into her tawny curls. "Please, don't cry. I thought you'd be happy. I thought it would please you... once you got over the idea of my paying off the note."

"I am happy!" Leonie stated gruffly, as she hastily scrubbed away a betraying tear. "It is just that I—I never expected such—such a wonderful thing to happen."

"A lot of wonderful things are going to happen for us, cat-eyes," Morgan muttered, his gaze fastening on her soft mouth. Unable to help himself, he bent his head and his lips captured hers in a long, searching kiss.

It was a sweetly fierce kiss, full of barely leashed passion and yet, there was a gentleness about it. They stayed locked tightly together, each one assuaging a sudden, urgent hunger, each unbearably aware of the other until at last, reluctantly, the embrace was broken. Slowly, unwillingly, Morgan raised his mouth from hers and said in a shaken voice, "If I continue to kiss you, and if you are so sweetly obliging, I shall not be responsible for my actions."

Shyly, Leonie met his gaze and said with sudden bravery, "But should you be? I am your wife."

A shuttered look fell across his face, and he turned away, saying flatly, "I think it is time that we headed back for the inn. It is getting late and we still have several hours of traveling ahead of us."

In a queerly tense atmosphere they walked towards the Chateau and eventually came to the horses and the curricle. Silently Morgan helped her into the curricle and a few minutes later, they were driving away from the plantation.

Morgan wasn't displeased with the afternoon's work—although, he could have done without her innocent reminder of the true state of affairs. When she had called herself his wife, his heart had contracted painfully and he had wished passionately that it had been true. But even if he could not yet bring himself to explain about Ashley, at least, he told himself, she knew the Chateau was safe now, and he had confessed his purchase of the remainder of the Saint-Andre lands. He smiled faintly, remembering the expression on her face. Then he sighed—that she would argue further about his payment of the note in greater detail he fully expected.

And he was right. After several minutes had passed, and Leonie had regained her composure, she brought up the subject again. But while Morgan allowed her to trot out her heart-felt objections to his generosity, he remained infuriatingly steadfast in his blunt refusal to let her use the dowry to repay him.

She argued during most of the four-hour journey, and it was only when they were approximately a mile from their destination, that she came to the conclusion that he was the most enraging, unreasonable creature she had ever met. With impotent rage she glared at his handsome profile longing to smack his face.
Beast!
she thought furiously. But then a tender smile curved her mouth; he
was
impossible, arrogant, overbearing, and outrageous, but she wouldn't have changed one hair on his dark head for an emperor's ransom!