Emerald Ecstasy (25 page)

“As I knew she would be,” de Lovis said and flicked an ash from the cheroot onto the floor, not missing Monsieur Tabary's scowl of disapproval. “The key to all things, my friend, is control. From this day forth I control the life of Lianne Marchand.” His laugh rang out and echoed across the empty theater.

Lianne gently squeezed the bright red tomatoes, smiled at the German farmer and offered her basket to him to be filled. The market on this warm winter's day bustled with activity. Farmers unloaded their produce from carts while customers casually browsed among the assorted fruits and vegetables.

She didn't usually go out so early in the day, especially since she had performed the previous night, but on this morning she felt invigorated and filled with hope that Amelie would eventually free Daniel. This small hope showed in the sparkling eyes which matched the light emerald gown she wore and enhanced the beauty of her clear complexion. Her russet tresses glowed even brighter in the morning sun. Clearly she was in love.

She turned after securing her basket over her forearm and met the black-eyed gaze of Raoul de Lovis. A gasp of fear escaped her.

“Ah,
querida,
am I such a monster?”

She tried to still her trembling and not show the fear which tore through her. With a confident toss of her head, she looked levelly at him. “You're only human, Raoul.”

Icy contempt flashed in his eye and he touched the patch which covered his injured one. “As you're well aware,” he said bitterly.

She went weak for a moment as the blood drained from her. “I'm sorry for that.”

“Such a feeble apology.”

“What do you expect?” she snapped. “You wished to make me your mistress, take me to your bed when I was unwilling. You deserved worse!”

“Such a sassy tongue,
querida
.” He smiled and passed a rapier glance over her. “But I've always admired your spirit, your passion.” Reaching out, Raoul caressed a stray curl. “However, I've not forgiven you for running. No woman runs from me. I've allowed you to get away with more than any other woman, but soon you shall be like the proverbial bird in the cage. Daniel will never be free of my niece, Lianne, so you'll learn to content yourself with me. And enjoy it,” he whispered into her ear.

She thrust the basket between them. Even in the busy market she felt alone and afraid. She wished she had never left the house. “Daniel and I will be married one day, and you won't be able to harm me.”

He laughed. “I've no intention of harming you. When I finally love you in my bed,
querida,
you'll moan with ecstasy, never pain.”

His breath fanned her face, and she cringed.

“No!” She moved away from him and would have run but he caught up with her and brazenly took her elbow.

“I'll escort you to your love nest. I hear the streets aren't safe for a woman alone.”

“I hate you!”

“I know.” He laughed lowly. “That's part of your charm for me. You fight and that excites me. I wouldn't want you so badly if you went docilely to my bed. What would be the challenge in that?”

After a silent walk where Raoul didn't relinquish his hold on her, they finally reached the house on Saint Anne. To her surprise he released her at the door and very formally bowed.

“Soon, Lianne. You'll be mine sooner than you imagine.”

“You're crazy,” she ground out from tight lips.

He shook his head. “Not crazy. Dangerous,
querida.”
He started to turn away then stopped. “Does your Señora Alvarez ever hear from her nephew Pedro in Madrid?”

“No.”

“A pity. He could use family support, I imagine. The poor fellow lost his tongue one night not long after you and she departed the country. A terrible tragedy. Good day, Lianne.”

Walking away, he twirled his cane then stuck it under his arm. Not once did he look back to see her standing on the doorstep, still as a statue.

Daniel stopped coming to Amelie's bedroom at night, and she wouldn't have cared except she feared her uncle so much and remembered his warning at their last conversation. But she knew there was no way she could make Daniel care for her. And she didn't wish to. Her thoughts centered on Claude and the wedding which was to take place in the slave quarters that evening.

Lallie was her only source of information about the activities. She informed Amelie about the pretty dress Ella had sewn for the occasion, and what a handsome couple Claude and Ella made. She would have rebuked Lallie for the triumphant looks the woman gave her, but her heart was so heavy, she didn't say a word and lapped up any scrap of information like a starving puppy.

A few times Dera asked her what was wrong when Amelie played with her food at supper, but she just shrugged off Dera's concern with a comment about not being hungry.

“I'd advise you to eat,” Daniel said from the far end of the mahogany dining table.

Amelie threw down her fork. “As if you care! I suppose you're going to visit your whore tonight and leave me alone again while I grow as huge as a pear.”

“You're perfectly aware of the circumstances, Amelie.”

Jumping up from her chair, blue fire flashed from Amelie's eyes. “I hate all of you, every last one of you Irish bastards, including the noble Allison! But more than that I hate your French tart. I can't even go into New Orleans and hold my head up any longer.”

She ran from the room, and Daniel rose to go after her, but Dera called to him. “Leave her be, Daniel. Things are hard for Amelie. Give her time to sort things out. I have faith she'll make the right decision.”

Daniel wearily returned to his chair. His face was lined, and any happiness he felt at the prospect of seeing Lianne vanished. “She knows I don't love her, Mother.”

Dera raised an eyebrow. “Yes, but she carries your child.”

“If it is my child. I have serious doubts about that.”

“Daniel!” Dera was shocked.

“I think Amelie hasn't been the most virtuous of wives, but I don't blame her for finding love where she could. We all need someone to care about us. Heaven knows I take responsibility for how she has turned out.”

Dera reached out and took her son's hand. Daniel had always been her favorite child because he was the one who turned to her in times of trouble when he was small. Paul had never been in doubt about how he would solve a problem, so he never felt guilty if things turned out badly. However, in the past few years, Daniel had drifted away from her and from his legacy at Green Meadows. Now he must face his future and find happiness.

“If you love Lianne, you must fight for her and believe that God shall answer your prayers. First, you've got to stop feeling guilty for Amelie and live your life.”

“Mother, I haven't prayed in years.” He smiled sadly if a trifle indulgently at Dera who clung to faith. “I doubt if the Lord would hear me anyway.”

She patted his hand. “He hears any sincere plea. He gave me back your father.”

“And took him from you in Ireland.” He noticed her wince and was sorry he hurt her. Even after seven years, the pain of seeing her husband shot down by English soldiers like a rabid dog wouldn't fade. He kissed her cheek. “Perhaps I'm not meant to be happy like you were with father, and Paul is with Allison.”

He got up and left the room, thinking that Amelie had already retired. He began to get ready for his journey to spend the night with Lianne.

The beat of drums from the slave quarters warned Amelie that Claude's wedding celebration had started. She stood on the veranda, clenching and unclenching her fists. To think of her Claude married to Ella and sharing a bed with the woman upset her. She couldn't bear it. But she had to see him, had to have one glimpse of him.

Stealing a look around, she made certain no one watched as she silently moved toward the drumbeats. When the small cabins came into view, she quietly ran behind a group of trees to watch the slaves. A comely black wench was engaged in a tribal dance while the others snaked around. Amelie's eyes flew to Claude's broad shoulders and the sensual way his body moved along the line with Ella. She clutched at the small pouch of her abdomen and wished to die. She loved him with an agony that was beyond endurance. “Oh, Claude,” she whispered tearfully and placed her hand on her mouth to keep from crying out.

A rustling sound caught her attention. She startled to find Bruno Haus beside her.

“Good evening, Frau Amelie. You're out for a stroll?”

She eyed him in cold contempt. “It's none of your business what I do, Monsieur Haus.”

“Nein,
but I do know what you do and who you do it with.”

“What are you talking about?” she asked through pale lips.

He slowly withdrew a long knife from his belt and pointed at Claude. “I've seen you and that black wrestling in the bushes and heard the way you pant like a bitch in heat when he takes you.” He licked his lips. “I'd like you to show me what he's taught you, Amelie.” He pulled her to him and she saw he was actually salivating.

Revulsion and fear washed over her. “Let me go, you filthy animal. I'm Amelie Flanders, the wife of your employer.”

“So? What are you going to do? Tell your husband about this. I'll tell him how you part your legs for that black bastard every time he wants you. I'll tell him that you were sleeping with Claude even when you said you weren't able to walk.” He laughed, seeing that she paled even more. “I bet you thought I was stupid, but I knew all the time about you and that buck.”

“Monsieur Haus,” she began and tried to remain calm. “Please release me.”

“Aren't you the proper one, but no, I won't let you go. I want you to take off your dress for me. Now.”

From the lustful way he eyed her and held her, Amelie knew he wouldn't let her go without a fight, so she tried one more tactic and prayed it would work. The long knife was so close to her she could feel the cold steel against the material of her gown.

“I'm having a child, sir.”

“Makes no difference to me. I want you anyway.”

“If you harm me, my husband will kill you.”

That did amuse Bruno, and he laughed loudly, not worried that he'd be heard over the beating of the drums. “Well, if you don't let me have my way with you, I'll just tell him about you and Claude. Maybe he'd like to wonder for the next few months if that brat you're carrying is really his.”

Her hesitation gave him the opening he needed. Bringing his lips down hard upon hers he stuck his tongue into the soft cavity of her mouth. Amelie felt bile rising in her throat and knew she'd be ill. She tried to push away, but Bruno clamped her to him and pushed her protesting body to the ground.

He broke momentarily away and held the knife to her breast. “Now take off your dress.”

The steel point glinted in the moonlight, but she could see no way out. Each time she moved the knife followed suit. Barely able to swallow she began to unbutton her gown. Bruno's eyes followed the trail of opened loops until the white of her chemise was visible.

“That's more like it,” he stated. One hand massaged her breasts while the other held the knife to her throat.

Only a few feet away the slaves danced and the drumbeats penetrated the quiet night. She couldn't scream because no one would hear her. All she thought of was Claude, so near and unable to help her.

Bruno fiddled with the belt on his pants and hurriedly pushed up her gown. His touch brought her close to hysteria. She was beyond caring about her own physical safety and didn't care if Bruno Haus killed her.

At that moment the drums silenced and a scream of fury escaped Amelie's throat. She heard Bruno demand she stop, but she couldn't. She was no longer in control of her body, her emotions.

“Stupid bitch!” he yelled when the cries of the slaves reached him. He knew it would be only seconds before he was found, so he barely had time to pull up his pants. Amelie lay on the ground, screaming hysterically, and he realized he was as good as dead if she told the master what had happened. He had no other alternative.

With a sharp jab he stabbed her, then ran as fast as his brawny legs would carry him.

Within moments the slaves came upon Amelie lying in a pool of blood. One of them saw Bruno running away and cried out his name.

“It's Madam Amelie!” another man screamed. “Someone get the master!”

Claude rushed to her barely conscious form and picked her up in his arms. He carried her to his cabin, not aware that he cried her name the whole distance in agony. Ella, the woman he had just married, was forgotten.

Daniel couldn't believe the blood-soaked horror which awaited him in Claude's cabin. Dera accompanied him when the slave summoned them from the house and assisted the women who had removed Amelie's clothing, trying to stop the bleeding.