Emerald Desire (Emerald Trilogy) (3 page)

Dera looked at Jem, cowering upon the ground. As much as she disliked him, she didn't want him imprisoned on her say so.

"Let him go, Lord Fairfax. I'll pretend it never happened," she found herself saying.

By this time a crowd had gathered. She noticed Timothy and Lydia on the fringes, but neither made a move in her direction.

Lord Fairfax glanced down at Jem. For a few seconds longer, he was thoughtful. When he spoke, his voice was soft but full of menace.

"You know, McConnell, I have the power to beat you beyond recognition, and no one would dare to intervene on your behalf. No one would stop me, because I am who I am. And being the man I am, I have always been swayed by the words of a beautiful woman. Because Mistress Dera wishes your release, 1 shall oblige. But remember, if ever 1 find you trying to force your loathsome person on her again, 1 shall not only have you removed to Dublin, but 1 shall have you hanged there also. Do you comprehend my meaning?"

"Aye," squeaked Jem, his eyes resting on the cane. Dera felt a tad of compassion for the usually swaggering and boisterous McConnell, finally brought to humiliation by Lord Fairfax. Lord Avery swung his cane under his arm, releasing Jem from his power.

"Then be on your way and cause no more trouble.”

Jem silently slinked away, not taking a backward glance.

Dera studied Lord Fairfax beneath downcast eyes. She saw that he was thick but not fat around the middle. His hair was powdered white, his coat a mauve shade and made of the finest velvet. Cream ruffles enveloped his neck and peeked out of his coat sleeves. His stockings were of the same color, and his shoes were black with silver buckles. He walked with a cane, not because of any infirmity, but because it made him appear authoritative. He seemed to be the same age as Timothy---perhaps a trifle younger; there were no lines around his eyes, and his mouth was thin-lipped. In his eyes, which were green and shining, she thought she discerned something akin to meanness. But whatever she saw quickly disappeared as he gazed appreciatively at her.

"I can readily see how a man could be driven to perilous straits by your beauty, Mistress Dera."

''I'm honored you remembered my name your lordship. 1 was just a child when 1 came to live with my uncle and never imagined you knew of my existence. I was very sorry to hear of Lady Fairfax's death," she said in an attempt to change the subject and keep the flush from her face.

He sighed to himself, but continued walking with his hand touching her elbow. "Poor Elvina was in great pain at the end. It's a blessing the Lord took her. The subject depresses me. Now tell me, my dear, is it proper for me to ask your age?"

"Next month I shall be seventeen, your lordship."

"So young, but you possess a maturity others your age do not. Answer me truthfully--do you think 1 am an old man?" He smiled as he asked this odd question of her and she thought her answer must be given honestly. To her, Avery Fairfax was old in comparison to Quint; however, he wasn't old in comparison to Paddy, their neighbor, who was eighty. She decided to circumvent the question for Uncle Timothy's sake. She didn't want anything she said to hurt either him or Lydia. She had heard rumors that things could be hard for those who disappointed his lordship.

Dera licked her lips, watching his unreadable expression. "I cannot say, my lord, for I don't see with your eyes or feel your feelings. It's not for me to decide such a thing."

For an instant his eyes clouded, then he threw back his head and gave a great laugh. "You are all I thought you would be, beautiful, serious and tactful. Come." He led her along. "I have something I want you to see."

He guided her through the crowd, heads turning as they passed, people whispering behind their hands. She was uncomfortable but somewhat proud to be seen with Lord Fairfax.

"Here he is," he said. "A more beautiful animal you'll not find in Ireland." They stopped under a canopy of sorts and beneath it stood a black stallion, blacker than the devil's heart, with nostrils flared in protest. His whole presence seemed to defy anyone to touch him.

"He's beautiful," she said in admiration. "Have you just purchased him?"

"Yes, this morning. He cost me a great deal, but anything worth possessing is worth whatever one has to pay." Lord Fairfax looked at her in a strange way, an expression passing across his face that she chose not to dwell upon.

"Have you given him a name?"

"Choose one for me, Mistress Dera. Name this noble beast for me." He leaned in closer, his breath on her face and she suppressed a shudder. He had saved her from Jem and was kind to her, but he repulsed and intrigued her at the same time. She had a sudden wish to be somewhere else, far away from his lordship, somewhere alone with Quint.

Almost as if she wished Quint to materialize, she heard his deep voice behind her.

"Aye, Dera, name the horse for his lordship." Disapproval was etched upon his face. His features were hard as a stone wall; his eyes were blacker and wilder than the stallion's.

His shirt sleeves were rolled up, the muscles flexed in his arms with every movement; his dark breeches molded to his powerful thighs. Quint walked with the lightness of a jungle animal. Each time she saw him she never ceased to catch her breath in wonder at his handsomeness and dream of the day they would marry. But now he regarded her like an angry god who might easily strike her down with his wrath.

"How dare you refer to Mistress Dera by her Christian name, you whelp ! You are too familiar." Avery raised his cane, ready to strike, but Quint stood defiantly, his chest thrust forward.

Dera quickly stepped in front of Lord Fairfax. "Quint means no harm. We've been acquaintances since childhood."

Avery lowered the threatening cane to his side. "I see. Finish tending the horse," he ordered Quint.

Dera glanced in Quint's direction. He turned his back and sullenly rubbed down the stallion. She thought it odd that under Quint's hands, the animal calmed.

"I want you to choose a name for this animal," Avery reminded her. She looked at the horse again and then at Quint. She sensed the hatred and pent up anger in both creatures and the name she chose applied to both.

"Devil Man," she said.

"Devil Man it shall be." Avery smiled broadly at her and took her hand in his. "There are other mounts I wish to buy, so I'll return you to your uncle's care, my dear."

"That's very kind, your lordship, but I'll seek him out myself." She was eager for him to leave so she could talk to Quint alone.

"As you wish, but I shall see you again. Have I your permission to visit you in your uncle's house?" His question startled her. If Lord Fairfax wished to visit, there was no reason to ask her permission. He had the authority to intrude at any time. She wondered if he had another motive, but she pushed it to the back of her mind, hoping he meant only to be gallant and kind.

"Yes, your lordship," she said quietly. Her attention was drawn to Quint who was savagely rubbing down Devil Man. Avery smiled again and kissed her hand. His lips lingered a trifle too long for comfort. Then he ambled away into the crowd as people made way for his passage.

She riveted her gaze upon Quint. He refused to turn around and then made a big to-do about polishing Lord Fairfax's saddle, as if he purposely avoided speaking with her.

Hurt welled within her. She hadn't expected the day to turn out this way, starting with Uncle Timothy's distrust, then Jem's attack and Lord Avery's defense of her. Now it appeared that Quint was to be her biggest problem. She stepped nearer to him, but still he didn't deign to notice her. "You don't have to sulk, Quint. His lordship only asked to see me out of politeness. I've no intention of encouraging him. You know my feelings," she said softly.

He jerked around with a quick movement, his mouth set in a thin line, anger flashing in his dark eyes. "I know nothing of the sort, Dera! I could have stopped Jem, except the great and almighty lord was swifter. I really don't know how you feel. Perhaps the years have changed you--as they have me."

"Have you changed?" she asked fearfully.

"Aye, I have, and you have too. You're no longer the pretty child I pledged myself to that day in the meadow. You've grown more beautiful than I thought was possible. If only mother could have lived to see you now." In spite of himself, his eyes softened. "My feelings for you, Dera, are still the same. God, I want to kiss you right here!"

She could resist no longer. Impulsively she threw herself into his arms, relishing the feel of his arms around her waist. She longed to kiss him deeply in the way she had imagined for so long, but he gently pushed her from him.

"No," he said. "’Tis too dangerous."

"We love one another. I don't care what anyone thinks!"

"We can't risk being seen like this. Tonight I'll come for you, tonight at midnight in the meadow." He kissed her quickly and released her. "Now I must go. Fairfax might need my help with another of his mounts."

He strode away and left her standing with Devil Man under the canopy. As Quint's broad shoulders disappeared into the throng, her heart constricted with joy because he still loved her.

"Dera," Lydia touched her shoulder. "That wasn't very wise." Her blonde curls escaped from under her hood, the disapproval clearly showing on her pretty face and something like jealousy in her eyes. "Timothy would not have been pleased."

Dera laughed at her concern. "It doesn't matter what he thinks. Quint is going to wed me!"

"We'll see," Lydia replied.

On the way home, the cool October wind whipped around their faces. Timothy laughed and joked and seemed very pleased, but Lydia was sullen and said nothing. Dera smiled to herself. Noticing the golden ribbon still on her wrist, she untied it and flung it into the evening breeze, watching it curl and float across the Irish countryside. It reminded her of Jem and Lord Fairfax and her conversation with Quint. She decided it was unlucky, and by throwing it away, she would erase the unpleasantness of the fair. She set her mind on Quint and the night to come.

CHAPTER THREE

Eager, full of love and hope, Dera waited for Quint in the meadow. Visions of herself locked in his arms occupied her thoughts. Then he was beside her, holding her and smothering her with kisses, almost before she realized he had come.

"Darling," she whispered against the hardness of his chest; the manly scent of him enveloped her. Quint held her face in his hands and tenderly gazed at her for a long moment.

"I've waited for you, Dera. You are the only woman I will ever love. Believe that." There was an urgency in his voice; he wanted her to realize he spoke the truth.

She put her hand against his mouth. His lips were warm and moist on her fingertips.

"We have no need for words, Quint. I know what you feel for me." She encircled her slender arms around his neck, cherishing the sweet warmth of him. He groaned into her hair, his hands beginning to explore her body. She pressed herself against him as he thrust his tongue into her mouth, causing delightful tingling sensations along her spine.

Expertly he undid the lacings on the front of her gown. His warm hand stroked and kneaded her breasts. The warmth flowing through her body suddenly became like liquid fire and she clung to him as he lowered her onto the soft blanket she’d brought from her bed.

She felt no embarrassment when he removed her clothing and then his own. He kissed her breasts, his hands exploring what she freely gave to him. Her body molded, naked and writhing against him. Desire coursed so strongly though her that she thought she would die from the ecstasy of it. He touched and kissed parts of her that she had never known could give such pleasure, and when she could stand it no longer she arched her body against him. He entered her,
and the glorious pleasure turned to a momentary pain which she ceased to feel when desire again assaulted her in waves.

They were carried along the crest, oblivious to everything except their mutual hunger. He tensed and shuddered. At the same moment, her own body exploded, and then subsided into a lulling calm.

Quint lay quietly, his arm thrown across her waist. In the darkness, she felt his eyes upon her face. "Are you sorry?" he asked her.

Dera stretched cat-like and smiled up at the moon. "I could never regret this moment, Quint. We were born for one another."

"Aye," he agreed.

"Do you remember your promise, Quint, about our marrying?"

"I do," he said and released her, folding his arms behind his head. "We'll marry. Trust me."

"When?"

"Soon, but first I have things I must attend to."

"What things?”

"Nothing that concerns you, Dera. Don't question me further."

"Does it have anything to do with Lord Fairfax and the hatred in your heart?" she asked.

"I don't wish to speak of it." He turned away from her. "We shall marry one day."

"One day" sounded a long time away. Tears formed in her eyes. Loving Quint had been the most wonderful experience she could ever hope to have. Perhaps she had lost him by letting him make love to her. "Perhaps my wantonness has driven you away already? Maybe you think I'm like my mother?"

"Never, Dera! You are yourself and I love you. This changes nothing except to deepen my love for you." Quint cradled her in his arms and stroked her hair. He kissed her, the embers of their earlier passion ignited, and once again, they became one.