Master Of Paradise (26 page)

"Good! I'd rather deal with his fury than his indifference." Her voice was too loud, and she knew she'd had way too much to drink by the way the room spun when she closed her eyes.

Stuart Beverly stood up. "I think I'd better get Samuel."

"Stuart Beverly, you are nothing but a momma's boy, forever prating about decorum and appearances. This is my house and y'all are my guests. By all means get Samuel. It's time he brought in those shrimp and oysters they've been shucking all afternoon."

Samuel, fully aware of everything going on in the room, wheeled in a serving cart piled high with delicacies. He cast Amanda a warning glance that she chose to deliberately ignore.

She was determined to win a saddle for herself, as the only one she owned was the hated side-saddle. It did not prove difficult to talk Duke Vickers into putting up his best saddle, since he believed Mandy couldn't beat him at cards.

When it was her turn to deal, King blinked owlishly. "By damn, you dealt those from the bottom of the deck!"

"Hellfire, you've had so much bourbon you can't see straight," she replied.

Beau looked amused and Clay kept mum, refusing to accuse his good friend, but Stuart Beverly said quietly, "Miss Amanda, you were cheating."

She flared, "If you'd said those damn words to Duke here, he'd shoot you!"

Ty Caldwell said, "If Stuart says you were cheating, you were cheating."

Amanda laughed. "Hells Bells, of course I was cheating. Such a fuss over nothing. How else can I win against experienced players like y'all?"

Nicholas arrived home at the same time that Brandon brought Jennifer home. They came through the front door together, and all three hurried to the library to see what the uproar was all about.

Amanda's brother and sister stopped dead on the threshold, aghast to find Mandy embrangled in a shouting match with a roomful of males.

Nicholas's shrewd gaze swept over the occupants of the room, while Jennifer gasped, "Amanda, how dare you show us up with such a shameful exhibition?"

Mandy looked her straight in the eye. "P... Pelican piss!"

Jennifer gasped her horror and ran from the room with her face flaming.

Nicholas strode into the room and swung Amanda up into his arms. "Excuse me," he muttered and swiftly carried her upstairs. "Lou!" he called in a tone that brooked no dawdling. He set Amanda down on her bed. "She's as drunk as a fiddler's bitch. Undress her and get her to bed."

As Nicholas returned to the library, all held their breath. Even the Vickers boys who were liquored up knew they had done wrong and expected a tongue-lashing from the master of Paradise. Nick helped himself to some oysters. "Whose deal?" he asked smoothly.

The next day Amanda waited to be called to account for her shocking behavior, but the summons never came. At dinner she was slightly uncomfortable under Nicholas's scrutiny. He observed her from beneath lowered brows as if he were contemplating what to do with her.

As the conversation at table lagged, Jennifer spoke up, "You know the farm that Mother left to Brandon? I've been simply dying to see the place, so Beau Hampden kindly offered to escort me there next week."

"A young lady with your upbringing should know the reason why. You cannot go careering off on a trip with a young man." He looked her directly in the eye, "No matter how well you know that young man."

She flung down her fork and it clattered inelegantly as it hit her plate. She pushed back her chair and departed with a tearful, "Excuse me."

Startled, Aunt Billie, eyed Nicholas, and consumed her dessert with twice she speed she usually ate. "I think I'll retire now."

Alone with her husband, Amanda waited for him to turn his wrath upon her. Finally, she dared raise her eyes to his.

He gave her a brooding look that gradually turned mocking. "You expect me to play the heavy-handed father, but Amanda I am not your father, I am your husband." His eyes glittered as he offered a cruel taunt. "I suppose it will be an endless exercise in patience to wait for you to grow up and become the woman you look."

Amanda bit back a retort because she knew what she had done was childish, and also because she realized that in any encounter with him, either verbal or physical, he would emerge victorious. She stood and put her crumpled napkin on the table.

He mocked, "Don't let me intimidate you to the point where you run up to your room."

"You are mistaken, sir. I am going out!" She expected him to forbid her, when only cats were on the prowl, but when he did not, she had no option but to leave the house. Outside, the heady scent of the gardens filled her with a longing for... what? She didn't know. Then the throb of the drumbeat came to her and she was irresistibly lured to the Jackson Plantation's slave cabins.

Jessie did not want Amanda to stay. "Our rites are secret. Yo' no wanna see when the lewd an' lecherous dead come among us."

"Yes I do, Jessie. You are the priestess. If you say I can stay, the others won't object."

"I am de Mambo. We are havin' water rites tonight by de river. It is strong magic. Ah may be mounted by Ioa-- it will only frighten yo'."

"No, no, Jessie, I swear. Give me an amulet for protection."

After a long silent moment, Jessie took a piece of hogwood bark, wrapped it in wild plum leaves, then put it into a tiny cloth bag that she hung around Amanda's neck. Then she took her hand and they slipped from Jessie's cabin into the darkness.

Amanda was fascinated as the slaves gathered about laughing and dancing. Some of the males had white painted faces, and they passed around a gourd filled with homemade liquor and hot peppers.

They formed a long line to the river, dancing the banda with wild contortions of belly and hips Down by the river the light from the moon reflected on the group and Mandy was slightly shocked to see that some of the slaves had cross-dressed. The women wore pants and the men wore dresses. They waded into the shallows then climbed back out.

Suddenly, Jessie became possessed and fell to the ground. She had taken on the characteristics of a snake and slithered her body along the ground. The crowd went wild; the drumbeat quickened and the men and women were grabbing each other.

Amanda, alarmed and a little afraid, decided she'd better get back to Paradise while the getting was good.

A tall, dark figure in the shadows, who had been watching her closely, breathed deeply with relief. Nicholas kept to the shadow of the trees as he followed his young wife home. Ten minutes after she entered the house, he went in and sought out Samuel. "Come up, Sam, I have something important to discuss."

Inside Nick's bedroom, Samuel seated himself in a comfortable armchair and Nicholas sat opposite him. He offered him a cigar and lit it for him. "I don't know a lot about voodoo, Sam. Educate me."

"Dat crazy stuff only fo' ignorant slaves. Dey believes illness come from bein' cursed. Dey imagine bad luck can be washed away in de river. De strong ones prey on de superstitions of de weak."

"I've known it was going on at this time of season for a few years now. I've never put a stop to it because I considered it a form of entertainment-- a way for the slaves to relieve their aggressions and frustrations. It's a form of social control, and I have no real objection to it."

"Well suh, ah suppose der is a good part to it. Dey have lotsa herbal medicines t'cure sickness, but der's a bad part to it. Dey call up de spirits o' de dead an' dey makes potent drinks outa strange plants dat send 'em crazy until dey all writhin' on de ground an' mountin' each other no better'n animals."

"I see. Thanks Sam." Nicholas sat on long after Samuel retired for the night. He had a decision to make, and he didn't want to make it for the wrong reasons.
Amanda could easily get swept up in this voodoo thing. It holds a certain forbidden fascination, and she is vulnerable to its allure.
He knew he must stop it before she became involved; nip it in the bed, so to speak. But the enigma was how to go about it? He could confront her of course. Forbid her to associate with the slaves from the cabins, force her to stay indoors at night. She would do her deliberate best to thwart such a ban, but in the end his word would be law.

He knew he could prohibit the practice altogether, make it taboo, but that would breed resentment against him, because Bernard Jackson had allowed it, and he too had closed his eyes to it until now.

Nicholas lit another cheroot and leaned back to contemplate the different avenues that were open to him.
One thing is certain. I don't want Amanda flirting with voodoo.
She needs something in its place. Something that will catch and hold her imagination
.
Amanda needs freedom. She hates to feel trapped. I know to my cost she can be headstrong and willful.

Nicholas was haunted by her beauty and admired her spirit that accepted any daring challenge, but though he had been tolerant of her antics up to now, this voodoo thing made him realize he must gain more control over her.
She needs something to occupy her quick mind, capture her imagination, and hold her interest. She may not be old enough to be a wife, but she is old enough for a romance,
he decided.

Nicholas had no designs to take a sixteen-year-old to his bed, but on the other hand he had no intention of waiting two years for her either.
Amanda is my wife, and I will decide when this marriage will be consummated, all agreements with her father to the contrary.

The more he thought of it, the more he became convinced that Amanda needed a romantic interlude to fill all her waking and sleeping hours. He was also wise enough to realize that if there was an element of secrecy about it, it would hold an irresistible appeal for Mandy.

The following evening, when dinner was over, and twilight floated into darkness, Nicholas went out into the gardens. He slipped into the gazebo that stood at the far end of the rose garden. Anyone walking to the Jackson Plantation from Paradise would have to pass this way. The summer house had an ornately carved railing above which were screens. Two sides of the six-sided gazebo were open lattices. It held comfortable wicker chairs, a hammock, and hanging baskets of profusely blooming flowers.

Nicholas stood in the shadows and waited, not knowing if he wished her to come. He could hear the drumbeat, and it beckoned. It had a strange, pulsing quality that he could almost feel in his blood. He did not realize how tense he was until he saw her coming, then the tension miraculously left him. It was as if he had been waiting for this moment all his life.

Amanda moved slowly through the rose garden, the warm evening breeze ruffling her pale green lawn dress about her ankles as she came lightly down the path toward him. He waited until she passed the summer house without sensing his presence, then called to her softly. "Amanda..."

She turned quickly, with a fleeting look of surprise... guilt... fear? It was gone in a heartbeat, so he could not be sure.
I'm not here to question her, only divert her.

"How lovely to meet you in the garden."

His voice was warm and deep, and held something intangible that intrigued her. She was indeed diverted, forgetting her destination the moment Nicholas was near. "My head is filled with the scent of roses. We have the most beautiful garden that could ever be," she said dreamily.

"Shall we enjoy it together?" He stepped from the shadows of the gazebo.

They walked side by side along the pebbled path that led past the labyrinth of the maze, and the moon played a game of hide and seek, coming from behind a cloud and touching everything with gold dust.

"At night the garden has a different beauty. It has a mystical aura like an imaginary place from a book, and because of the darkness, the heady scents are intensified."

He stopped and looked down at her. "It is a most romantic place."

Amanda caught her breath, and she knew her pulses quickened at his words.

He moved on slowly and her steps matched his, in tune with all he was saying and feeling. As they walked toward the reflecting lake, Nicholas reached out to capture her hand in his. Her delicate fingers curled intimately into his large, bronzed hand, and she could hear her heartbeat pounding in her ears.

"You like things to be mysterious and enchanting, don't you?" he mused softly. "You like to blur the hard edges of reality and escape into a fantasy every once in a while."

She gazed up at him, wondering how he always guessed her innermost secrets.

He led her onto the ornamental bridge and they leaned there, hand in hand, in the scented moonlight and dreamed silently for long moments. He looked down at her upturned face that held the age-old allure of woman since time began. "You may not be old enough for marriage, but I think you are ready to be wooed," he said low. His thumb brushed the pulse in her wrist and he felt it race madly at his words.

The water reflected the towering cypress and moss-draped oaks around its edge, as well as the bridge and the man and girl who stood so close upon it. She shivered at his closeness and laughed. "A water sprite just went under the bridge."

He whispered, "I refuse to believe it's fairy-haunted. I know why you shivered." Though it was dark, he knew she blushed. "Come," he said, and she followed.