Lynette Vinet - Emerald Trilogy 02 (17 page)

“I’m changing and would like some privacy.”

He gave a gruff-sounding laugh. “Love, I’ve seen your beautiful naked body suffused with the blush of passion when we’ve made love. Don’t pretend modesty now.”

She sputtered indignantly. “I’m leaving you in a few months. Our marriage is finished. Surely you can’t expect me to treat you as before.”

“Why not?
I’m still your husband, and there’s only one bed in this room. I hope you don’t expect me to sleep in the tap room or on the floor next to the bed like an obedient puppy. “

“I expect you to act like a gentleman. How can you even think of sleeping in the same bed with me after what you witnessed tonight? You found me in your brother’s arms. Don’t you care? Aren’t you incensed that we ran away together?”

He was very much incensed by the persistent image of Daniel’s mouth upon hers, but he calmly extinguished the cheroot and masked his emotions. “Undress, Allison. I’m not leaving.”

She backed nearer to the bed. How dare he order her as if she were a servant! “I won’t.”

“Then I suppose I’ll have to rip the damned dress off you.”

He made a slight movement to get up, but her fingers quickly worked the buttons, fumbling as she reached the last one,
She
turned her back to him, hating him as she bad never hated anyone in her life. She knew he would have ripped the dress away, knew it by the suppressed anger she had seen in his eyes. She didn’t want to look at him again, but just as she thought this she heard him say, “Turn around and take the gown off. Face me as you do it.”

She whipped around. “Why are you doing this to me?”

“You’re my wife. I have the right. Besides, you seemed most willing to bare all to Daniel. I deserve the same. Anyway, I want to look at you.”

His voice sounded hard, his hair shining golden from the firelight and matching the bright hunger in his eyes. He had never treated her like this before, as if she was some doxie hired for his amusement. Was that how he thought of her now? “Don’t humiliate me, Paul.”

A vein throbbed in his temple. “My darling, I just want my due as your husband.
Nothing more.
I told you once, you belonged to me. There’s a gold band on your finger to proclaim it. Now, disrobe and look at me as you do so.”

She started to protest but thought better of it. She had little liking for Paul’s anger, and he certainly was angry now. His mouth was set in a harsh line, and he impatiently tapped the edge of the chair arm. She was the mother of his unborn child. Why should he treat her in such a callous fashion?
Unless, he didn’t love her any longer
.
Allison eyed him coolly for a moment. Yes, that must be it! He didn’t love her, so it didn’t matter to him how he treated her—even like a whore. Well, if that’s what he thought her, she decided, then so be it—she’d act the part for him. She took a deep breath and dropped the dress to the floor. Standing before him in her thin chemise, the tiny bulge of her stomach barely noticeable, her breasts strained against their lace covering, spilling forth their globular beauty for his eyes alone. “I suppose you’d like me to take this off, too.” She fingered the silk which clung to her body.

He nodded, his eyes flared with desire.

“Happy to oblige, my lord and master.”
She noticed him wince as she pulled the straps and the bodice down below her waist. Then, shrugging, she slid the chemise along with the pantalets from her body and threw them at him. If he felt surprise at her brazenness, it didn’t register on his face, and she grew more annoyed that her teasing hadn’t aggravated him. Instead she realized it had the opposite effect. His gaze devoured her nude body even more hungrily than before.

Pulling the pins from her hair, her golden locks cascaded down to her waist. Then moving from her position beside the bed, she walked to his chair and stood in front of him,
She
watched him and knew he wanted her from the obvious bulge beneath his breeches. “Am I pleasing you, master?” she asked softly.

His face remained impassive, and she knelt at his feet,
Her
thin fingers traced the hardness confined beneath the broadcloth material. He sucked in his breath at her touch. Yes, she thought to herself, I’ll punish him by responding like a whore and have him wondering if I did the same with Daniel. “I think you do want me,” she purred.

A growling sound came from his throat and he pulled her up onto his lap. Her softness dissolved against his firm body, and her rump rested on the hardness she had just traced with her fingers. His eyes glittered, and his lips came down viciously against hers, locking her to him. His large, warm hands wildly slid across her body, and despite her hatred of him, a hot flame ignited within her.

Writhing beneath his scorching lips and feverish hands, she held him to her and kissed his neck, her tongue tracing patterns along his flesh. Then she undid the buttons on his shirt so she could feel the hardness of his chest covered by the thick down of hair. She buried her fingers in its softness, then ran her palms along its expanse and massaged and kneaded his nipples.

“Allison!” He pulled her from him and his eyes glinted. “Who taught you these
whore’s
tricks?”

She traced his lips with her tongue, brushing her breasts against him. “You did, my master.” 

Her answered astounded him. He knew he had taught her well, but now she used his tutoring to torment him. Was it him she loved or his brother? What had happened in Dublin with Daniel? Or had anything happened? Could it be that she was lustful for his brother and using him for satisfaction?

“Kiss me, Paul. Love me,” she whispered and began to encircle his neck again, but he held her off.

“So you want me now. After taking off with my brother, now you’re hot to be in my bed.” His hand grabbed a handful of hair and forced her to look at him. “Well, I can give as good as I get, madam, and since you’re so eager to play the whore, show me just exactly what you’ve learned.” He stood up, carried her to the bed and deposited her in the center of it. Allison knew she had gone too far, had riled him and his passion too much. She must put a stop to this silly game once and for all.

“Please stop, Paul. You hurt me so badly. I only wanted to punish you.”

“Darling, you don’t bait a man with your lovely body, then expect him not to touch you.” He threw off his clothes and boots and climbed in beside her. He drew her to him, his hands clasping her breasts.

“Don’t—don’t hurt me. Please,” she begged,

His eyes searched her face. “I would never hurt you.” Lowering his head, his mouth sought the pink-tipped nipples and he suckled greedily. Flames rose higher in her, and little whimpers escaped through her lips, As his hand sought the softness between her legs, she writhed at his touch, aching for him more ready for him than she had ever been. “Do you want me, now?” he breathed into her ear.

She barely found the strength to nod, as an all-consuming desire swept through. She shouldn’t want him, shouldn’t welcome his touch, but like a wanton, she couldn’t help herself

He laughed in triumph and parted her legs, straddling her and entering her gently, ever so gently, making the breath catch in her throat. His thrusts were easy, almost as if he constrained himself from penetrating too deeply because of the baby. But passion overpowered her and she arched her hips against his, clasping him to her with her legs until he thrust one last time, deep within her. Her cry of pleasure was caught between his lips; his body stiffened,
then
grew limp.

They
laid
entwined for some minutes, their hearts slowed their frantic beating. Allison felt confusion. She had carried on like a harlot in his arms when she should have hated him and a part of her still did hate him. But another part of her also loved him. She also despised being powerless when he touched her, as if her body had no mind, no will of its own. She could no longer trust herself

He lifted his head on an elbow and watched
her,
An index finger traced the mound of her breast. “I know now that you can’t deny me, because you love what I do to you. Admit it. You love it.”

How true that was! But she’d never admit it—not after what he had done to her. And his arrogance undid her. If she had felt any warmth for him, it was now dissipated. She lifted her sapphire eyes to gaze into his dark ones. “I admit you’re a good lover, Paul, but did you wonder whom I might be imagining as you made love to me?”

Paul drew back, a momentary look of pain replaced by unbridled fury. “You’re a witch! I can’t believe how heartless you’ve grown.”

“You forget you were my teacher,” she said softly.

He bounded from the bed and started dressing.

“Where are you going, my master?”

“Stop it, dammit! But if you must know, I’ll be downstairs biding my time until daybreak.”

He finished dressing and headed for the door. Allison sat up, trembling with warring emotions but determined to keep her independence. Otherwise, how would she leave him after the child’s birth?

“Paul, when we arrive home, my door is locked to you.”

With her hair all a tumble and the bed sheets clutched around her, she was a vision. Paul drew a deep breath. “Don’t bother locking it, my love. If I decide to visit you one night, no lock will bar me, and it would be a pity to replace a perfectly good lock, much less the door. However, after tonight’s dalliance, I doubt very much you would refuse me,”

He left the room, slamming the door shut, and her heart felt as if it had splintered into a thousand pieces.

Such an ominous silence pervaded the manor house that Dera sought the outdoors for relief, breathing in the sweet smell of the meadows. Since Allison’s return the previous month, everyone in the house seemed to take extra care not to quarrel. In fact hardly anyone spoke to each other. Allison forever remained in her own quarters, away from Dera, Quint, and Paul. Dera knew her son and his wife didn’t share a bed. Each night, the sound of the bolt on Allison’s door purposefully latched, and Dera guessed the girl took great pleasure in humiliating her husband. She felt so sorry for Paul but even more so for Allison and couldn’t think of her as Quint did. “The bloody witch,” he’d say each night as the familiar click sounded. “If your son had any guts, he’d break the blasted door down and claim her as his wife.”

However, Dera never criticized Allison or offered outward sympathy to either her or Paul. Their marriage was their own concern. Yet she did wish to be on speaking terms with Allison and desperately longed for a friend. The manor was as lonely and stifling now as it had been all those years ago during her marriage to Avery Fairfax. That was partly the reason for her stroll through the meadows which led to the tenant cottages. She remembered Maeve Lacey from those long ago days and recalled her warmth and friendliness. She hoped that Maeve could tell her what ailed Quint since Sean and he were so close. His nightly visits with Sean had suddenly stopped, and this puzzled Dera. Never had she known Quint to relinquish a pleasant diversion.

As she passed the spot where Quint had first kissed her as a child of twelve, she stopped and smiled. This was also the spot where they had first made love when she was sixteen. In her mind’s eye, she could almost feel his hands and mouth upon her as she relived those cherished moments of long ago. The years seemed to melt away, and when she returned to the present, she felt as if she had actually relived the experience. The meadow was magical and always evoked pleasant memories for her. Reluctantly she moved on, hoping that Maeve might be able to help her.

Maeve was indeed surprised to see her, “Oh, your ladyship, I didn’t know you’d be coming,” Maeve used Dera’s old title from when she had been married to Avery, and gently she had to remind Maeve she was now Quint’s wife, a lady no longer. “But I know that and feel so silly,” Maeve went on. “It’s just that when Quint is here, I’m always forgetting he married you, He’s right proud of you, Dera.”

Dera sat down, feeling more at ease as Maeve used her Christian name. Maeve offered tea, and the two women chatted for quite a long time about people they had known and events of the past.

“I tell you it was a shock to see Quint at our door. Sean nearly fainted at the sight.” Maeve laughed. “But that Quint will never change. He’s still a rogue and more handsome than ever.”

“I agree with you.” Dera sipped her tea then placed her cup on the table, waving her hand when Maeve offered to refill it. “He and Sean were great friends in the old days, and I know he enjoyed his time here with him the last few months, but he suddenly stopped visiting. Can you tell me why?”

Maeve nervously cleared the cups away, suddenly skittish, barely making eye contact with Dera. “Ah, you know how men are. They be getting into a pattern then just as quick they break it. Besides, he wasn’t always here with Sean. Many nights they’d take off and spend their time at Dabney Donahue’s. Now, that Dabney is a character for sure.”

Dera sensed Maeve avoided the real reason he had stopped coming. Since Quint no longer visited Sean, the burnings in the area had ceased. Suddenly Dera grew aggravated, feeling as if Maeve were treating her like a child who needed protection.

“Did Quint and Sean start the burnings?” she blurted out.

Maeve’s face paled. “Lord no, Dera! My Sean has long since given up the torch, and so has Quint. How could you
be doubting
your husband?”

“Because I know my husband quite well.
He’s keeping something from me, and I want to know what it is.”

“I can’t help you,” Maeve said slowly. “Only Quint can tell you what you need to know.”

How could Dera tell this woman that when Quint decided to keep a secret, there was no way to loosen his tongue? That not even she, after years of marriage, could force it out of him. But she saw that Maeve was not about to tell her either. She smiled warmly at Maeve and soon bade
her a
fond farewell, feeling like a fool to have bothered the woman in the first place. If she had been a peasant woman and had never married Avery Fairfax, she knew Maeve would have revealed Quint’s secret. Dera sighed. Still, after all the years she had spent with these people, they regarded her as an outsider.

Making her way back, she spied Quint riding away from one of the cottages. A woman stood in front of it, intently watching his departure. As Dera drew closer, she recognized the gray-haired woman as a servant in the manor, having been vaguely aware of her a few times when she’d seen her polishing the furniture. She wondered what business Quint could have with such a woman and nodded politely in her direction as she passed.

The woman stood alongside the road, her hands folded across her chest and drew her mouth into a snarl. “Don’t you have nary a word for me, Dera Brennan?”

Dera halted. No one had called her by her maiden name in years, and when she glanced back at the woman, she knew no one else ever would have addressed her by that name except one person—the woman who had lain with Quint like a bitch in heat, the woman who had destroyed her life— Peg McConnell. Dera looked closely at her, truly seeing her for the first time. Why hadn’t she noticed the resemblance before now? Peg had changed, and not for the better, but the evil, narrow eyes of the McConnells were still apparent. Dera shivered, wishing to run away but realizing here stood Quint’s secret.

“T’aint you nothing to say?”
Peg glowered at her.

Peg’s presence had completely surprised Dera and intimidated her. So many times she had belittled Dera, and though Dera had gained confidence through the years, she still felt nothing had changed. How she hated those small McConnell eyes, those eyes which reminded her of the suffering she had endured because of this woman’s lust. Because of this woman’s brother’s obsession to have Dera for himself, Jem McConnell had killed Avery and tried to murder Quint. But she decided she mustn’t allow Peg to see how shocked she was by her presence on the estate, to pretend she had known it all along. “I can’t lie to you and say it’s good to see you. It isn’t.” Dera managed to speak without her voice quivering.

“Hmph.
Now that you’re living the life of a queen again, what might you be doing over this way? You can’t be missing your old life again.”

“I’m very happy being Quint’s wife.”

“I’ve got me a good position at the manor. Your daughter-in-law gave it to me, she did.
Such a fine girl, too.
My girl Beth is her personal lady’s maid.
Were you knowing
that, Dera?”

“Beth is very sweet.” Dera hadn’t known Beth was Peg’s daughter, but she’d pretend she did.

“
Aye, that
she is.
And a good girl.
She even helped me clean out this old cottage after Quint gave it to me.”

That bit of news truly startled Dera but she hid her surprise. Why would Quint see that Peg had a place to live? “Quint is very kind,” she said, more than shaken,

“Beth is a dutiful daughter. She visits me like her father does. He comes quite often.”

From the sly look on Peg’s serpentine face, Dera surmised she was being baited to ask further questions. She needed to know where this was leading. “I’m pleased to know that. Does he live on the estate?”

Jubilation shone in Peg’s eyes. “
Aye, that
he does. Beth’s father lives in the manor house and shares your bed; Quint is her father.”

Dera’s lips were ashen when she spoke. “I don’t believe you.”

“You never did believe the truth,” Peg hissed “But Quint was mine before he set his eyes on you. He sent me away for my jealousy, and I was forced to bear my babe in shame. I gave birth in a whore house. A whore house! And no one cared. Not Quint, not you. Quint owes me for the pain I’ve endured all these years.”

Dera began to recover herself “How can you be certain Quint is Beth’s father? You bedded many men on the estate.”

Peg
came
closer, fire burning from her eyes. “Just look at her and tell me she isn’t Quint’s child. She has the Flannery features.” Without waiting for a further reply, feeling that the confrontation was at an end, Peg turned on her heels, entered her cottage and slammed the door.

Dera quickly walked away but as soon as she reached the turn in the road, she started to run the rest of the way to the manor. She arrived out of breath, her hair laying damp about her face. Quint met her in the vestibule and immediately knew something was wrong.

“Dera,” he said her name soothingly and tried to take her hands in his, but she pushed him away.

“Don’t touch me after you’ve been with rubbish!”

“I don’t understand.”

“Yes, you do. You’ve kept your little secret quite well. I saw you riding away from Peg McConnell’s. How convenient to have that woman living so near to you. No wonder you were away those many nights. Catching up on old times, I suppose. When would I have found out about the two of you? When I again stumbled upon you like a stallion mating with his brood mare?”

Groaning, he attempted to take her in his arms, but she was so angry and hurt, she couldn’t stand still. She paced the vestibule, and he could almost feel the heat of her wrath. “I planned to tell you, but I could never bring myself to say anything. I didn’t want you to be hurt that Peg was on the estate. For a time she lived with the Laceys, but she interfered with their lives, and Sean asked me to find her a cottage.”

“Quint, you’re so noble you put the Pope to shame.”

“Watch your tongue. You know what trouble it can get you into.”

“You’re the one in trouble.”

His eyes beseeched her for understanding and forgiveness. “Dera, I wouldn’t have Peg if she was the last woman alive. She has turned into a greedy, vindictive shrew. I admit I should have told you she was living on the estate and working in the manor, but I didn’t want to upset you.”

“I’m more upset because you kept it from me.” She felt tears stinging her eyes. Could she ever trust him again? She tried to control herself, but she still trembled because he hadn’t mentioned Beth. “Isn’t there something else you’ve forgotten to tell me?”

“You know about Beth.”

“Of course and quite thrilled Peg was to tell me. How could you have gotten that woman with child?”

“The same way I got you with child, I’m afraid. I wish I could change the past, but I can’t. Aye, the girl is mine, and I fear Peg will use her to get what she wants. “

Dera knew Peg was capable of blackmail, and something in Quint’s face warned her that there was more to this than a simple threat by Peg. “We can’t give into her demands, Quint. Peg can’t hold sway over us because of an illegitimate child.”

He opened his arms to her and though she still burned with rage, she loved him even more. She went to him and buried her face in the folds of his shirt. He stroked her hair,
then
tilted her chin up to stare into her eyes.

“My past is catching up with me in more ways than one, my love. Peg has threatened to turn me over to the authorities for Avery Fairfax’s murder.”

“But Jem killed Avery. He confessed before he died.”

“We can’t prove that. There’s no one to corroborate his guilt but us. No English court will believe me—a convicted arsonist and traitor.”

“If we return home, no one can touch us.”

“Nay.
This is where we belong, Dera. I’m on Flannery soil now, and I refuse to leave my land, my home.”

The warmth she felt for him dissolved. How could he be so stubborn? “You’re a fool, Quint.”

“I probably am, but I’ll not run away again from all I hold dear. You must stay beside me, and we must appease Peg as best we can. “

Dera heaved a huge sigh. “I’ll stay by you, Quint, even when the hangman ties the noose around your neck.”

~ ~ ~

The bedroom was much too big and lonely. Allison had never realized this until Paul’s broad masculine frame no longer filled it. At night she’d wake with a start and stare at the ceiling, wondering if he had returned from Ballysheen Hall or had stayed the night. Many times she’d waken and sit by the fireplace and contemplate the wild, flickering flames. She reluctantly admitted to herself that she still loved him and wanted to be a wife to him, but instead of reaching out to him, she still locked her door out of petulance and hurt.

One early morning she found a small bouquet of wild violets outside her bedroom door with a note attached. “Forgive me for my vile behavior. I love you. Paul.” She reread the note many times, unable to believe he truly loved her as she loved him. She went back into the room, carrying the purple blooms, and looked in the mirror. She was now large with child and growing more so every day, and she wasn’t even near the end of her confinement. How could a man as handsome as Paul love her when she felt so unattractive? Yet she ached to feel his arms around her.