Love's Vengeance (61 page)

Desiree nodded, reaching to wipe a tear from Stephen’s face.

“I have been in hell Desiree—haunted by all the things left unsaid. Is there any hope of your forgiveness for my stupidity? When Tim told me you were having pains that morning, it nearly destroyed me to know I had walked out and left you alone to endure that. I didn’t know what I would arrive here to find.”

“Stephen it was not your fault anymore than it was mine. That memory of our time together that morning is what has sustained me. I was giving you my love that day, although I couldn’t speak the words.” Desiree said softly.

“As was I.” He whispered, kissing her hand and pressing it to his chin. “I loved you that day and I’ve never stopped loving you. I need your love Desiree. I honestly cannot go on without you in my life.”

“Oh Stephen please believe me when I say that you have my love and it has never faltered.” She pulled him to her, hugging him with a strength that had failed her until this moment, “Please just don’t ever let me go again.”

Stephen pressed her back onto the pillows, “You are going to overdo, love. I should let you sleep now, we can talk more later.” He started to rise.

“No, please don’t leave my side! I don’t want to sleep! I’ve been given my life back, I have the man I love at my side and I don’t want to waste one moment. I want to look at you, tell you how much I love you and shall never ever hold that love back again. I plan on showering you with so much love from this moment forward!”

Stephen sighed longingly, “Shower me! Drown me in love; that is all I live for and I intend no less for you but first on our agenda,” he slipped off the chair and onto one knee beside her and held her hand in his own, “Desiree Chandelle will you do me the honor of consenting to be my wife?” he asked in a gentle plea.

“Oh yes! Yes Stephen!” She cried softly as he lifted her hand for a gentle kiss.

As he rose, he placed a lingering kiss upon her lips and took his seat at her side again, “Our first order of business will be a trip to the nearest chapel then, for I am going to make certain you never get away again and we can’t very well have our sweet baby daughter illegitimate now can we?”

Just at that moment, the door opened and Mary brought a tiny bundle in and Desiree watched Stephen’s face go a bit pale when his daughter was placed unceremoniously into his arms.

“Madame I…” He addressed Mary but she had turned her back, seeing to closing the drapes and dimming the light. “Desiree—I have never held a…” he paused, giving his attention to the tiny child sleeping within his arms and smiled, “I suppose I could grow quite fond of this duty. She is beautiful.” He chuckled. “I think I recognize that hair.” He timidly fingered the feathery tufts of light curls and the baby stirred and an arm fell across her face. He lifted her arm with his index finger and marveled, “So tiny! She weighs no more than a mite!”

“She is small.” Mary nodded, turning to Stephen, “But the doctor just saw her and assures us she will be fine—just fine.” Mary puttered about Desiree, fluffing her pillows and tucking the corner of a sheet beneath the ticking, “He will be up to see you directly sweet. We found the bottle of the drug in Jacques’ room, that he has been adding to your food and drink. It was hidden in a desk drawer. You are going to be fine now.” she smiled, kissing Desiree’s cheek and with a warm grasp of her hand, Mary left the couple alone with their child.

Stephen carefully raised himself from the chair and leaned over, placing a gentle kiss upon Desiree’s mouth, “Thank you for giving me this tiny treasure, my love—but I am terrified I might do her damage.” He walked gingerly to the opposite side of the bed, placing the baby beside Desiree and then carefully sat next to them both.

Desiree smiled contentedly, turning to her side and touching her daughter’s hand then looked up to Stephen’s eyes, “I had prayed for a son—a son that would resemble you so I would never forget what you looked like.”

He chuckled, “Well my sweet—you shall be forced to look upon this face for years and years to come. Your first sight each morning when you open your eyes and your last sight before you close your eyes at night.”

“Gladly, Captain Colter.” Desiree sighed happily.

“So! Have you decided on a name for this little soon to be Colter?”

Oui
, What was your grandmother’s name—on your mother’s side?”

“Victoria.”

“Victoria—Angelique, for my grandmother.

“Victoria Angelique Colter.”

Chapter Fifty-One

Desiree reclined upon a heap of pillows on a bunk, in the passenger cabin of the
Venture
, cuddling Victoria as she suckled greedily, taking her last feeding of the day. This motherly task she had lost all hope of experiencing was now one of the pleasant chores of her day. The doctor had deemed her able, that very afternoon of Stephen’s return to her life, since it was found that there was no malady and no reason to continue with a wet nurse.

Desiree touched the delicate lace that trimmed the billowing sleeves of her satin dressing gown. Beneath was a filmy white gown, with delicate straps and seductively cut bodice that left most of the upper curve of her breasts exposed. The two small fasteners at the valley between her breasts, proved handy for the task of feeding the baby—but her mind was thinking ahead, when she would spend this first night as Stephen Colter’s wife and share herself with him, after so many months of separation.

She smiled contentedly, as her mind wandered back to the ceremony this morning at the small chapel in Rouen. Her gown had been simple and yet elegant; white silk and a traditional veil. She had carried a bouquet of summer flowers and on the arm of her godfather Francois Roche’ had walked up the short isle bedecked in blooms and filled with only her closest friends to meet her dashing sea captain. Stephen had been elegantly attired in a dark navy blue suit, with a white shirt and stock and a single rose bud in his lapel. Francois had lifted the veil and placed a kiss upon each of her cheeks, then handed her into Stephen’s care. Stephen had taken her hand and together they had knelt at the alter, waiting for the priest to begin, and neither had been able to stop gazing into each another’s eyes as they waited.

After a prayer, they had rose and Rene’ had come to stand at Stephen’s side. Instead of the groom; he had been content with being best man. When the time came, Rene’ had removed the thin gold band from the pocket of his waist coat, laying it upon the open bible for the priest’s blessing and then Stephen had slipped the ring upon her finger, vowing to love, honor and cherish until death, repeating the vows after the priest. Stephen’s voice had been strong and full of emotion as he spoke the words but in his eyes—she had seen a vow, no spoken pledge could match. His eyes told her a thousand fold of his love. A love she had not one doubt of, a love as boundless as her own for him. She had gazed up into his eyes as she repeated the words, her voice soft, her vision blurring with tears of happiness. It was almost painful, the love she felt for him, so all encompassing, so total. She felt she could hardly bear the heady joy.

The last six weeks had been pure bliss; a heaven on earth. Stephen had stayed at the house, in separate chambers, while she recuperated from Jacques Monet’s attempt on her life and the birth of the baby. The effects of both were no longer apparent. She had regained some of the weight she had lost but was still a bit too slim, Bridgett insisted. The pallor had left her face, the dark circles were no more. She felt as fit as ever.

She had slept contented each night, knowing Stephen was near and sometimes, this last month or so, she had gone to his room, slipping into his bed and talking softly with him, in hushed whispers. Or she would simply lie within his embrace and drift to sleep, secure in his arms. It had been a time of discovery and rediscovery. Regaining the easy comfort they had once shared. Speaking truthfully and frankly and one by one, casting away all the old conflicts and misunderstandings.

Her mind strayed now, to thoughts of Rene’ and how happily he had given her his blessing, even going so far as to lend his services to Stephen as interpreter, accompanying him to town, as Stephen groomed Philippe to manage her interests in France. Rene’ had been in awe of Stephen’s business head and had told her so, as well as impressed with Stephen in general and he had admitted that she could not have found a better man, except, of course, for himself.

Philippe had been reluctant to take on the managing of her affairs, totally against moving into the house, but she had been determined that he would be the one and finally he had succumbed. The house would have been vacant but for servants, and he could stay there until the completion of his house on his own land or for as long as he wanted. She knew of no one she could trust more thoroughly to care for the business her father had built than Philippe, nor of one more capable of managing that business. Under Stephen’s knowledgeable care, Philippe had come to realize that, indeed, he could manage. It was in truth just a larger version of the business he had been involved in, procuring cargo, moving it, a much larger version!

The baby finished nursing and Desiree fastened her gown and rose, with a rocking motion, crossing the cabin, humming a lullaby until the little eyes closed again and the babe slept. Bridgett entered and Desiree motioned her to silence and turning her attention back to the baby in her arms, she lulled her into a deeper sleep, continuing to hum softly.

Desiree was not aware of Stephen as he arrived and stood at the threshold of the cabin, watching her as she kissed their child and moved to the cradle, placing the babe within. With a finger across her lips, she smiled at Bridgett beside her, turning away from the cradle. A gurgling coo brought a dejected frown to her exquisite features and she turned back, with arms akimbo, to be met by wide eyes.

“I fear she is not in the slightest ready to sleep.” Desiree said, lifting the small bundle once more, “Be a good little girl and sleep for Mama.” She crooned gently.

Bridgett looked to Stephen where he leaned against the threshold with arms crossed over his chest, watching Desiree with loving eyes.

“Sweet,” Bridgett said softly, “I shall entertain this little night owl.” She held out her arms toward the baby and when Desiree’s eyes met hers, Bridgett inclined her head toward the door, “I see someone more in need of your care.” she whispered with a gentle smile.

Desiree turned to her handsome husband, only hours aged into that title and smiled softly. His gaze was tender and glowing and the message was clear. Desiree handed the child into Bridgett’s arms, “I shall say good night then Bridgett.” She breathed; her eyes trapped within her husbands, as she walked across the room and placed her hand into his. Stephen closed the door behind them, leading her to their cabin.

“Are we ready to sail in the morning then?” Desiree asked.

“At first light—so we had best enjoy our few hours of solitude this night, for Bridgett is sure to take ill and we shall have a certain little someone sharing our quarters for at least a few days and nights.” he chuckled.

“I hadn’t thought of that.”

“I had.” He nodded with a wide grin.

Stephen paused at the door of their cabin, opening it wide and then lifting Desiree into his arms carried her across the threshold, before setting her gently to her feet and closing the door behind them.

Desiree smiled coyly up into his eyes, as he turned from the door. He leaned back against the portal, gazing at her for a long moment.

“What are you thinking?” she asked softly.

“So many things, I don’t know where to begin.”

“Then let’s save it for later.” She whispered, holding out her arms toward him.

He approached her, sliding his arms about her waist as his mouth gently tested hers. Desiree wrapped her arms about his neck and sighed against his parted lips, “I love you so much Stephen Colter.”

“I love you Desiree more than I could express in a lifetime.” His lips caressed hers, tracing down to her chin and throat.

His emotions were raging, a torrent that trembled his knees, causing his heart to race. He was alive again, after months of living hell. The torment, the punishment he had rained upon himself, the hopelessness, the loneliness, all gone now. He held within his arms, the meaning of his life—his reason for being.

Desiree could feel the pounding of his heart, the trembling of his arms that held her in a tight embrace and she knew that this was more than just their wedding night. They were facing that last obstacle; the last of the ghosts would be put to rest this night, as they shared once more, what they had last shared in anger and in such a sad and lonely way. She whispered softly in his ear, “I’ve missed you so much Stephen. It has been so very long. Make love to me.”

“With pleasure my love.”

He kissed her gently, their breath warm in one another’s mouths, as he loosed the belt about her waist and slipped his hands within the robe, sliding it off her shoulders, letting it drop to the floor as his hands moved over the flesh of her arms and across the swell of her breasts. Their eyes met and locked, trapped in the depths of each others as he slowly unfastened the frogs of the hazy veil over her body and it slipped to her feet. He reached behind her neck, drawing the clip from her hair, sending it tumbling down her back and he caressed a handful of the silky black tresses, then he cupped her face in his hands, kissing her eyes, her cheeks, her parted lips and he lifted her into his arms, carrying her to the berth.

That night, their love outshined both the sun and the moon, with its radiant splendor. She had regained that which made her a woman, the man whose love she could not live without. And he, had become the man he was meant to be, his torment was at its end. He had awakened from his nightmare and found that his desire lived, it had been lost for a time but it lived—with this one woman.

Epilogue

Desiree pulled up as straight as she possibly could, looking into the mirror as she turned about, surveying her waist. She frowned, releasing her breath with a disgusted click of her tongue. The vertical stripes of the dress, did help to mask the still slightly rounded belly, as Bridgett had sworn they would, but it was all to obvious to Desiree. She patted her hair, and then touched perfume to her wrists, still observing her figure.