Master Of Paradise (28 page)

Nick grinned. "Where are you off to?"

"I can't believe you've forgotten the horse racin' at the Vickers. Hellfire man, they have it every year on the same day."

"You should have come to the corn roast last night. All the talk was of this fellow Lincoln that's campaignin' for President. Doc Caldwell thinks he's gonna win the election, but the rest of the men think the Democrats have it sewn up."

Nicholas shook his head. "There's one hell of a time coming if Lincoln gets in. If you can wait while I bathe and change, we'll come with you to the races. I expect the girls would enjoy it."

"I can wait," Brandon said with a laugh, but my sisters are another matter entirely."

"Leave it to me. You have to be masterful with women," he said with a wink. "Brute, take over here. Make sure you do two more fields before you let them quit. Ben," he called across the clearing, "go wash up, I want you to drive the carriage over to the Vickers place."

"Lord God, Nick, you let a field hand drive our ladies? It's a wonder Jennifer doesn't refuse to go. Field hands stink musky!"

Nick grinned and drawled, "You might stink yourself if you ever did a lick of work. And they aren't
your
ladies, they're mine. Ben knows damn well he'd better wash until he doesn't stink when he drives my carriage."

At the house, Samuel went to prepare his master's bath and lay out fresh clothes.

"Lou, tell Miss Jennifer and Miss Amanda if they can be ready in half-an-hour, I'll take them to the races. Assure them I won't wait longer."

When his sisters came down the curved staircase eager for the outing, Brandon couldn't believe his eyes. He looked from one to the other, comparing them openly, and Amanda came off the clear winner. The girl who always looked as if she'd been running wild with the gypsies was elegantly ruffled in exquisite lavender. She wore a straw leghorn, the first time he'd ever seen her in a hat, and she carried the most eye-catching parasol.

Beside her, Jennifer's pale features looked washed out, almost drab today. Brandon looked at Nicholas as he descended, and his eyebrows went up in surprised amusement at the change in his younger sister. "By God, Mandy, you grew up overnight."

She replied loftily, "Marriage does that for you."

Brandon slapped his leg and laughed outright. "You'd better not say things like that if you don't want to get old Nick into trouble."

When Nicholas got into the carriage, Brandon protested. "Aren't you going to race Sunblood? He'd beat anything those crazy Vickers boys will be racing."

"I know he could, Bran, but Sunblood is my pride and joy. I wouldn't race him in this heat. He's not for racing; I'm going to use him for stud. Far more profitable in the end."

"I wish I had some way of making money," Jennifer said with passion. "Men don't know how lucky they are. Whenever I need anything I have to ask Daddy."

Nicholas gave each girl a ten dollar gold piece, and Mandy teased, "Thank you, Daddy." His physical response was instant and quite visible he was sure, as he shifted to ease the tight cloth of his breeches. He gave her a warning look and the dimples peeped out.

For once Nicholas was happy to join the groups of men who invariably gathered together at these affairs, while their ladies were expected to amuse each other. Today the talk was all about politics. As election day drew closer the men assured themselves that that damned Lincoln with his cockeyed abolitionist sentiments didn't stand a snowball's chance in hell, and if by some remote possibility, he did become President of the United States and try to abolish slavery, the very foundation the South was built upon, then they would secede.

Nicholas spoke against secession each time the subject was brought up, but Southern pride and arrogance were at work, and it almost appeared cowardly not to totally oppose the Northern point of view. It was being realized and openly discussed for the first time that if slavery were abolished and all the black people manumitted, Southern planters stood to lose hundreds of thousands of dollars. The plantations were slave rich and top dollar had been laid out for prime field hands and well-trained house slaves. Manumission would wipe out fortunes overnight.

Jennifer spent the afternoon with Beau Hampden and her other friends. His talk was all fire and pride. He was ready to fight the damn Yankees. Of course, everyone knew they didn't have the courageous spirit to fight back if challenged. The North was filled with shopkeepers and immigrants just off the boats.

By the end of the afternoon, however, Jennifer was alarmed. The only thing she owned in the whole world that had any value were a half-dozen slaves.
Soon perhaps, my slaves will be worthless to me! There's only one way to prevent that happening.

Nicholas noted with amusement mixed slightly with annoyance that Amanda was surrounded by young admirers all afternoon. She was emerging from the bud, just becoming aware of her beauty and desirability, and at the same time the young men of the county were becoming aware of her allure. They placed her wagers, collected her winnings, covered her loses, and escorted her about the huge buffet tables. The females gave her speculative looks and whispered about her.

By the time the purple twilight deepened to indigo they had lost track of Brandon. On the carriage ride back to Paradise, Jennifer begged Nicholas to invest some money for her, if she could manage to get some together. She placed her hands on his arm, tugging his sleeve, begging like a supplicant.

Amanda watched her sister touching her husband so openly, and was wistful that she could not do the same, at least in public.
When we are alone tonight, I will touch him, and not just his arm either.
She resolved to touch his hair, as her fingers had ached to, and if she could summon the courage, she'd touch his chest-- that lovely broad expanse where she longed to lay her cheek and let her fingers caress.

She blushed and quickly looked away from him. Amanda's thoughts were filled with anticipation of the touch and scent of him, and she only heard the tail end of Nicholas's words to her sister. They had come to some agreement, but about exactly what, Mandy was in ignorance.

As soon as they arrived home, Samuel handed Nicholas a letter. It was from Bernard Jackson in reply to the one he had written.

My Dear Nicholas:

Let me set your mind at rest about secession. The South is made up of many old and stable regimes, and in spite of a few hot-headed South-Carolinians, cooler heads will prevail. States like Louisiana and Mississippi will not easily be swayed.

Representation has shifted to the cotton states of Alabama, Georgia, and Carolina, and with this parity comes congressional power. The State of Virginia will oppose secession forever, even if every other state cries out for it. All you need do is recall how quickly John Brown, the abolitionist bastard was crushed last year by Federal troops under Colonel Robert E. Lee for attempting a slave uprising.

Since I have no time these days to think about the plantation, I am most thankful that I have you to depend upon. I would appreciate it if you would keep an eye on Brandon and drop me a note regarding any problems that arise with the estate. Give my love to my girls.

Bernard Jackson, Richmond, Virginia.

Nicholas put the letter down and rubbed the side of his nose, deep in thought. If Bernard had written his true feelings, they contrasted sharply with his own.
I too want to deny that anything is wrong, but deep down I have a gut feeling that this issue is about to erupt like a volcano, and it will be such an upheaval, it will destroy everything in its path.

Nicholas knew what it was to lose all you held dear, have it swept from under your feet by forces that you could not control, and he fiercely resented the thought of it happening all over again after he had worked so hard for so many years to build a dynasty with nothing but his bare hands.

Then he mocked himself for a fool.
The only moment that's important is this moment. Live for it! Enjoy it!
he told himself fiercely. He had worked four long years toward tomorrow. He would take his tomorrow and enjoy it tonight!

He went upstairs and poured himself a glass of champagne. He bathed and changed his shirt, and on impulse picked up the bottle and glass and took it with him to the summer house. He unbuttoned his shirt and lay back in the hammock, schooling his mind to patience.

As he swung to and fro, the fragrances of the hot night seduced his senses with their exotic perfumes. It seemed an eternity before she came. He let out a long breath when he saw her approaching the hammock in the deep purple shadows. Nicholas stretched out his arms to her. "Love, let me hold you."

She came to him shyly, yet willing. As he enfolded her, the hammock swung wildly, then settled into an undulating rhythm that moved her body softly against his. Her thigh brushed the tip of his shaft each time the hammock swung. The feeling was exquisite; he didn't want it to stop.

Amanda's cheek rested against his chest and she could feel the strong, heavy thud of his heartbeat. "Paradise is much lovelier than the Vicker's Plantation," she murmured dreamily.

"Too beautiful," he said softly.

She raised her head to gaze at him in the darkness.

His strong hands held her body immobile against his to keep it in the pleasurable position that was arousing him to the point where he could think of little else.

She sensed his slight melancholy. "What's wrong tonight?"

He groaned and his arms tightened about her. "It's just that I've waited so long for you. I fear something will snatch you and Paradise away before I've enjoyed you to the full."

"Hush. Don't put the thought in the air." She laid her cheek once more against his hard torso.

"I want to see Paradise filled with guests. When your six months mourning period is over, we'll entertain the whole county." His enthusiasm grew apace with his words. "We'll fill the house with flowers and musicians and light up the gardens. We'll give a ball and send out two hundred invitations. We'll serve champagne and caviar, and when it's over, I'll carry you upstairs to my bed." He lifted her on top of him and sought her mouth above his.

"We can't," she said against his lips. "I'll only be seventeen on my next birthday, not eighteen."

"I cannot...
will not
wait so long, Amanda love. The thing I am denied becomes the one thing I must have, at any cost. I am becoming obsessed with you. It's like spreading a feast before a starving man, and denying him even a taste."

"Nicholas, you are tasting me," she told him as his mouth possessed hers, and his tongue played with hers.

His hands stroked her back, then cupped her buttocks and pressed her body down onto his.

Amanda felt him hot and throbbing through the thin material of her gown, and the first fragile sensations of desire stirred deep within her. It was all new and different from anything she'd experienced before, and though it had a forbidden quality, the sense of utter security she found in Nicholas's embrace made her willing to risk anything with him. She slid down beside him again, and he tenderly tucked his arm about her, and kissed the tendrils at her temples.

He knew it was a rare privilege granted few men to initiate a beloved into the mysteries of sexuality. To awaken her, teach her, would be a delicate thing to be cherished and savored. It also carried a responsibility to provoke her sensuality so that she received and gave pleasure in equal measure. He vowed to take the time for total delicious foreplay, show her what he liked, and teach her to respond. He worshipped her and wanted to love her with a healthy measure of lust and laughter and hot passion.

"Darling, have some champagne." He sat up and reached for the glass and bottle.

A small murmur of protest broke from her lips as he broke their embrace. He held the bubbling wine to her lips and she laughed as its effervescence tickled her skin. He sipped from the same spot on the rim of the glass her lips had touched. They drained the loving cup, and a second, then left the remainder of the bottle in the gazebo.

"Let's go to the lake." He slipped his arm about her and held her close as they walked. When his fingers found the swell of her breast through the delicate fabric, he heard her quick indrawn breath at the thrill of his touch. As they passed a hedge of yellow roses, he plucked a bloom and nestled it in the high curve between her breasts.

His fingers left a fiery trail on her skin whenever they touched her and she felt faint with a longing she could not name. When they came to the edge of the ornamental lake, their feet sank into the lush deep grass beneath the weeping willows. Nicholas unbutton his shirt and removed it.

She placed both hands on his chest. "Nicholas, please don't swim in the dark. Remember the snakebite. If anything happened to you I would want to die."

"Little innocent. I had no thought to swim. I was disrobing for the pleasure of being naked." He gathered her to him, then dipped his head to find her lips. His whipcord arms tightened and she entwined hers about his neck and let her fingers tangle in his crisp, dark hair.

His lips left hers and moved down her throat. He met no resistance as he pressed fevered kisses to the swelling curve of her breasts, then with a quick movement, he had her gown undone and a ripe, rosy-tipped breast rested in the palm of his strong, brown hand.

She cried out as the shock of his burning mouth close over the hardened peak, and her hands moved down to caress the slabs of muscle in his broad back. She was trembling helplessly now as he pulled the top of her gown away from her body and the cool air touched her naked skin. Then she was wrapped in his arms and the heat of his body flooded over hers until she thought they would melt with love.