Read Master Of Paradise Online
Authors: Virginia Henley
"Take as long as you wish, sir. I shan't sit and pine for you," she said coolly, and left him to get on with his business.
He decided not to reprimand Ben in any way. The encounter had been completely innocent, and he did not wish to provoke association of ideas.
It took a full night and a day to load the cargo of cotton aboard the steamship that they had renamed the Rattlesnake. Nicholas sent his field hands straight back to Paradise under supervision of Brute, whom he could always count on to keep law and order.
Nicholas and Rafe slept aboard, then Collins would leave on the morning tide and try to set a time record for the voyage to Liverpool and back. The two men were physically exhausted and sleep overtook them as soon as their heads hit their bunks.
No so with Amanda. She lay awake for hours the next two nights going through a range of emotions that kept sleep at bay. She was piqued that she and Nicholas had parted with angry words. Then she was annoyed with herself for all the clever retorts she had not thrown at him. She fanned her annoyance into full-blown anger at Nicholas for following her and chastising her as if he were her father. Then she felt sorry for herself for losing her mother, and a tear slipped down her cheek. She licked it away and sniffed loudly. Slowly, the guilt crept upon her for letting her husband go off to Charleston without a kind word or look.
Chapter Fourteen
Two days later at breakfast Amanda told her sister, "The field hands are back from Charleston, but Nicholas didn't come yet. He must have been detained by business."
"Ha! Little innocent," teased Jennifer, "there are so many diversions in the city, he'll probably be gone for days."
"What sort of diversions?"
"Use your imagination." Jenny rolled her eyes at Mandy's ignorance. She changed the subject and said in a tone that dared her sister to object, "I've invited Beau for supper tonight."
"That's lovely Jenny. If there's something special you'd like, just ask Samuel. He's definitely the voice of authority around here. If Nicholas doesn't get back, I could send a message to Brandon and ask him to join us."
"For heaven's sake, we don't need our brother here just because I have a gentleman caller. You're a married lady now-- you are all the chaperone we will need."
"Of course, you are right. I must learn to take responsibility as the mistress here."
In Charleston, Nicholas attended a political meeting at the Society Hall on Broad Street. He was alarmed at the mood of the men who attended. Raised voices were loud and angry, and when the call went up for South Carolina to secede from the Union of the United States there were no cool voices to prevail and advise a more cautious solution.
He walked back to the house on Tradd Street, mulling over the things he'd heard at the meeting. Solange and Jason were married now. She remained at the house in Charleston and Jason spent time with her only when he accompanied Nicholas to the city.
Before Nicholas retired, he sent off a letter to Bernard, appraising him of the mood in Charleston and asking him what the talk was in Richmond. Sleep was a long time coming, but the moment he slipped over the edge into its silken bonds, Amanda was there again beckoning, retreating, advancing, refusing, promising, withholding, begging, forbidding, until she drove him to take her by force.
Nicholas shot up from the pillows wide awake. He knew not if he was glad or sorry that it had only been a dream, but every detail stayed with him to haunt him for the remainder of the night.
The following day the city was like a steam bath. The air hung hot, wet, and heavy, with not even the hint of a sea-breeze ruffling up from the harbor. Nicholas let himself in with his own key at Maggie's house on Wentworth Street. The day's light was beginning to fade and he couldn't be sure if her smile welcomed him as he peered into the dim sitting room. He felt stifled and removed his coat, murmuring, "You don't mind, do you?"
"By all means, don't stand on ceremony with me," she said in a brittle voice.
Instantly wary, he wondered how she could possibly have heard the news of his marriage. She made no attempt to come into his arms, nor offer him a kiss of welcome.
"I haven't seen you or heard from you in so long, I assumed it was over!"
So, she's determined to be difficult.
He decided against saying he'd been busy with the cotton because she was well aware of the demands on the time of a planter. He took out his cigar case and selected a cheroot, waiting for her to spit out all the things that were sticking in her craw.
"You've obviously been so besotted with your child bride, you couldn't even find time to drop me a note."
He blew out the blue smoke and watched it spiral lazily toward the ceiling.
"Well, say something, damn you!"
"What is there to say?" he drawled. "Seems you already know all my business."
"I was at a social gathering with Virginia Heyward, your bride's aunt. She flung your name about like you were the prize catch of the Season. Said her niece must have bewitched you since she hadn't come out yet, and wasn't even old enough to attend balls or cotillions."
He murmured, "In the South, gossip is a way of life."
"Especially when men revel in giving the gossips fodder for their gristmills. Rumor has it the marriage is in name only, but I'm not quite that gullible. That's simply a device to mask the situation with a cloak of respectability," she flung.
The silence stretched between them as he gauged her true feelings. Was she deeply hurt by his actions, or was she giving him a hard time because she had a particularly high bill she needed paying.
"Well?" she demanded. "Have you slept with her or not?"
Nicholas ground out his cigar and said curtly, "I have no intention of discussing my wife with my mistress." The insult was like a slap.
"You bastard!" she spat.
Ironically, that's one name I can't deny.
He looked at her and said quietly, "The trouble with a mistress is, as the expense increases, the pleasure diminishes." He put his key on the table and picked up his coat to depart.
She gasped. Then called after him, "Nick, don't go!"
He stopped in the doorway with his back to her.
She flew across the room to him. "I'm sorry darling, I've been going insane with jealousy. I didn't know if I'd ever see you again."
He turned to face her. "Maggie, when I'm finished with you, I'll be man enough to tell you so. Give me credit for some character."
She slipped her arms about his neck and looked up at him pleadingly. "I can't help being jealous of a girl half my age."
"Sexual jealousy is an ugly, self-defeating emotion that makes a woman petulant and sullen. A man tires easily of such a woman." It was a warning, plain and simple. He wanted the message to come through loud and clear. "Maggie, I prefer a relationship with no strings. I don't like the feeling of being owned. I thought that was the kind of relationship we had."
She smiled at him. "It is, Nicholas. I plead temporary insanity. Come, you need a cool drink and a refreshing bath. You came for relaxation and pleasure and that, sir, is what you shall have."
Later, when he reflected back upon it, the night had been disappointing. It didn't begin to approach the eroticism of his dreams of late, and he decided the liaison had run its course.
Amanda was disappointed when Nicholas hadn't arrived in time for dinner. Jennifer wore the red gown to display all her golden loveliness for Beau Hampden. Amanda viewed her critically and was relieved that Nicholas had not allowed her to wear the gown. It was vulgar, blatant, and cut far too low for a respectable young lady.
Throughout the meal Amanda was amused to find Beau's eyes tray in her direction repeatedly. He had never even looked at her before, but now that Nicholas Peacock had married her, she had taken on a desirability that affected every male she came in contact with.
Aunt Billie's beady little eyes took in the situation avidly, and quick little nods accompanied her private thoughts.
"Has Nicholas not returned from Charleston?"
"He was delayed, Beau, but he'll be here later tonight, I'm sure."
"It's our poker night tomorrow. Perhaps we shouldn't bother this week," he offered politely.
"If Nicholas is expecting you, he will make a point of returning home." She caught sight of Jenny's mocking eyes and added, "In spite of diversions in the wicked city."
The following afternoon Amanda was relieved when Jennifer announced she was going over to see Brandon and would likely dine over there. Nicholas hadn't returned and Amanda was downright annoyed. She knew the young men would be coming for cards and there would be no host to greet them.
To hell with it. I am a married woman. They will be guests in my home. I will play the hostess!
Amanda went off to consult with Samuel and found him in the library cum games-room filling the decanters with liquor. "Samuel, the game hasn't been canceled, but there's no sign of my husband."
"Miz Mandy, y'all leave everythin' t'me. Masta Nick be home sho' nuff, yo' see."
"They won't be here for dinner, will they?" she asked anxiously.
"No, ma'am, but here at Paradise we allus prepares lots o' food an' drink fo' poker night. Dem boys sure works up an appetite."
"Well Samuel, I've decided to play hostess until Nicholas gets here. I've known these boys since I was a child. If he doesn't bother to return, it won't matter in the least."
Samuel eyed her, knowing trouble was brewing. The master left the little filly with too much time on her hands and she was in danger of becoming bored. There was no greater potential for trouble on God's green earth than a bored female.
As Amanda wandered about the library, checking the decks of cards, the decanters of liquor, the crystal glasses, her ears were cocked for the sound of horses approaching. In the distance she heard the throbbing of a drum and remembered last year after the cotton was in, the slave quarters came alive every night with dancing and music. The slaves indulged in a form of superstitious religious rites that were most fascinating.
Tomorrow I'll visit the Jackson slave cabins and talk to Jessie. Maybe they will let me join in their celebrations, or at least let me watch.
Her attention was diverted by two noisy young men who were arguing at the top of their lungs.
"Christ Almighty, King, even when I beat y'all fair an' square, you won't admit it!" Duke Vickers swore.
"We agreed to race to the stables at Paradise and my horse was in a stall before yours," King argued.
"That's a goddamn technicality, and y'all know it."
Samuel issued them into the library, where King spied Amanda. "Mandy you tell him. We raced over here and I had my mount stabled at Paradise while he was still outside."
"If you two think I'm settling disputes between two brothers crazy enough to shoot each other, you're mistaken."
Duke argued, "Well shit... I mean shoot, it's got to be settled. He's got to pay me what he owes."
"What were the stakes?" she asked innocently.
They both hesitated and went red. Duke admitted, "Can't tell a lady."
"Oh hell, I'm married now, but never mind." She held up her hands and handed them a deck of cards. "Cut for it."
They both drew aces and the argument continued. "Well hell, any damn fool knows the ace of spades beats the ace of diamonds," King argued.
"The only damned thing the ace of spades predicts is you're gonna be a dead brother if y'all keep this up."
"Boys, stop it," Amanda demanded. "You are both uncivilized, yes and immature."
They both stopped and looked at the sixteen-year-old who was accusing them of immaturity. They saw that indeed Amanda looked a woman in her high-necked gown of turquoise.
She stood serenely before them with the candlelight shining on her upswept mass of hair, and catching the glitter of a very pretty pair of earrings. "Duke, pour yourself a drink, and while you're at it, get one for me. Nicholas has been detained on business, so I'm filling in for him."
They gaped at her as she swallowed half a glass of bourbon and went to greet Beau Hampden, who had his younger brother Clay in tow. Beau gallantly bent over her hand and murmured sincerely, "You look even more beautiful than you did last evening, Amanda."
She tapped him with her fan and said, "You are a silver-tongued devil, Beau Hampden, like your father before you."
Clay gaped with open mouth at the vision that stood before him. Where was the Mandy Jackson who had sneaked off with him to tree coons at the last party?
"Beau, be a darlin' and help yourself to the bourbon and I'll have one too. Clay, don't make inroads on my husband's brandy like you do when you get near your father's," she admonished as if addressing a naughty boy. She compared the Hampden brothers and was at a loss. Beau was so attractive, he was a maiden's dream with his flowing blond mustaches and his elegantly cut clothes. Clay, as his name suggested, resembled a lump of mud beside his elder sibling, yet the boy was open and honest in an endearing way.
Amanda realized that the bourbon must have sharpened her perceptions as she looked at the Vickers brothers. They were big, raw-boned country boys, who resembled their big, raw-boned mother. They were at their shallow best with a drink in their hands and a piece of horseflesh between their legs.
They are already half cut. I warrant even I have a better head for holding liquor than this terrible twosome.
Stuart Beverly and Ty Caldwell arrived together. Stuart looked rather alarmed when he saw Amanda splashing bourbon into glasses and including herself.