Silver Moon (12 page)

Their entwined bodies moved as one, and with every gentle thrust of Brace’s hips, Elyse returned the same. Their hands caressed, explored, and learned, while their bodies ascended upwards, climbing toward the twin peaks of passion and desire.

They stayed locked together, touching, holding, loving and combining in a pattern as old as time, yet as new as the full discovery of their love. Elyse’s flesh and Brace’s were one, as were their hearts and minds. The sound of their breathing filled the grove, accented by each other’s whispered words of love.

Then, without warning, Elyse’s body tensed. Her back arched, her hips pushed against Brace’s and her eyes flew open. Wave after wave of the most incredible sensations flowed through her, sending lances of pleasure to every part of her body. She cried out Brace’s name, even as she felt him stiffen as he, too, reached the pinnacle of their lovemaking.

Elyse floated within their universe, her breathing loud in the air around her, her arms clasped tightly around Brace. She felt his heart pound against her breasts, and luxuriated in the wash of his warm breath across her cheek.

They remained locked together in an embrace neither was willing to release for a long, endless time, content in gazing at each other, and as they lay together, Elyse understood how wonderful and how strong her love for Brace was.

Finally, Brace stirred. He slipped his arms from around her, lifted off, and rose. Reluctantly, Elyse released him. Before her hand fell to the ground, Brace captured it and brought it to his mouth. He turned it so that her palm was facing him, and kissed the tender skin while he gazed at her.

After releasing Elyse’s hand, he took a deep breath. “I love you, Lady Louden, may the powers that be forgive me.”

Dusk’s palette painted soft tones in the sky. The lengthening shadows of the trees blended into a curtain separating them from the rest of the world. The waterfall was a low symphony in the background of the paradise Brace and Elyse had found.

Brace gazed at the woman to whom he had given his heart, and emotions stirred deep within him. After they had made love, he took her into the cool water and washed the smattering of blood from her thighs.

Then they frolicked, forgetting reality while living their hearts’ dreams. When they’d left the pool to lie on the grass and let the descending sun dry them, Elyse fell asleep in his arms, but for Brace, sleep was the last thing he wanted.

Instead, he gazed at her, accepting the wonderful gift she had bestowed upon him with her love, and tried desperately to find a way to shield her from the hurt he knew would come.

He had spent so much time fighting his own desires, doing his best to protect her and spare her from shame; but, in the end, he had failed himself and Elyse.

Before his thoughts had become too morose, Elyse awakened. When she looked into his eyes, he saw the love she offered and his desires returned, chasing away his disquieting thoughts.

They came together again and, this time, their lovemaking was slower, and, if possible, even more intense than their first. When they parted, the sun had set and dusk had arrived.

“You look so pensive,” Elyse said.

“With good reason,” he admitted, not trying to hide the emotions tempering his voice.

Her eyes widened; her stomach knotted. “You regret what has happened?”

Brace laughed; he couldn’t help it. “There will never be a moment in my life when I shall regret this.”

“Then what?” Concern etched deep furrows on her brow, making her look vulnerable.

Brace cupped her face. “If you love me, no one will know of what happened today.”

As soon as he spoke, Elyse stiffened and drew away. The knot in her stomach grew larger, and her head swam dangerously. “Brace,” she whispered, her eyes imploring.

“I love you.” His voice deepened with the force of his words. “But my love will destroy you.”

“No!”

“Yes! Elyse, if you won’t do this for yourself, then do it for me. I will not stand idly by when they look down on you. No one can know of today, no one!”

“What happened between us today can’t be denied,” she whispered as her eyes tried to pierce through his own. “Or is it that you’ve made a conquest, and now the hunt has ended?”

Brace refused to reply; rather, he held her in a steady, silent gaze.

“I. . .” She stopped herself from saying more. The hurt and anger of seconds ago ebbed away, as the understanding of what he was telling her seeped into her mind.

She thought about what he’d said, the emotions underscoring his words. The concern written on his features tugged at her heart, and in that moment she understood how deeply he loved her. He’d spoken for her, not himself. His love for her, she sensed, was a force he would not allow to hurt her.

Then she remembered their confrontation at the cemetery. Had it only been hours ago? It seemed like another lifetime. She had told him that she would accept his love on any terms. Now she was learning the extent of her promise.

“All right.” She closed her eyes for a moment. When she opened them again, her gaze was hard. “For now, Brace, but not forever. Our time will come!”

Brace nodded his head. It had hurt him to ask her that, but her acceptance made it easier—that, and the proud flash of determination and strength in her eyes when she spoke the last words.

He drew her to him, his mouth descending upon hers in a kiss that gave as much as it took.

*****

Elyse tightened the sash about her waist and turned to look out the window. The sun was gone, replaced by streaks of pink and lavender, which would soon turn crimson, before fading into the blackness of the night.

As she watched the day come to an end, memories of the last two weeks flooded her mind. Ever since that fateful afternoon when she and Brace became lovers, her life had taken on a new meaning.

Her thoughts traveled along a myriad of paths as she tried to figure out a way for Brace and her to be together without bringing on scandal and shame.

She had realized, with the passing of each long, lonely night that her love for him would never lessen, no matter what circumstance in which she might find herself. Yet she knew, too, that Brace’s strength, which was so important a part of him, would never yield to her urgings to give in to their desires.

Elyse had acceded to his wishes, and accepted the fact that after sharing one beautiful afternoon together, she might have to wait another lifetime for it to happen again. She had agreed to do as he asked, and had made a bargain with herself for Brace, secure in the knowledge that their love was not a figment of her imagination.

Although she wanted him by her side, she managed to keep physically distant from him, ignoring the tension surrounding them with every glance; instead, she threw herself into working with Brace on the plantation.

That he had agreed to stay on gave her hope that one day, soon, things would work out between them and their love could be declared for the world to see. Until then she had to wait, even as she had done in England.

Brace continued to live in the same bachelor apartment at Devonairre; he rode with her daily, teaching her and showing her everything about the plantation.

There were other changes, too. At night, when Elyse sat for dinner with Charles and Ann, Brace now joined them. The conversation usually centered on Devonairre, and occasionally on Brace’s coffee plantation.

From the time she awoke in the morning, until she fell exhausted onto her bed at night, Elyse tried to think of a way for them to be together.

Even when she slept, her mind worked on ways. Her dreams were always of Brace and her, together somewhere, safe and happy within each other’s arms.

“It will happen!” she half-shouted as she returned to the present.

Turning from the window, she went to the door, a ripple of excitement coursing through her body. Tonight she was meeting Brace and they were going to watch an island ceremony. Her excitement wasn’t about going to see a voodoo ceremony—
no
, she told herself, facing the truth; it was something far more important. She would be with Brace tonight, away from the strictures of Jamaican society.

Tonight’s adventure had been born three days ago, when they inspected the replanting of a cane field and Brace stopped to speak with a woman he introduced as Lucea.

She was a tall, cheerful woman, with a happy smiling face. Elyse had liked her instantly. She’d seen too, within Lucea’s wise eyes, that the woman could sense the emotions that were so much a part of Brace and her.

“We have not seen you for many weeks, Brace, at the camp. Come visit us soon.”

“I will,” Brace promised.

“You are happy to be home, Mistress?” Lucea asked Elyse.

Elyse, not knowing why she was reacting to Lucea so strongly, smiled. “I am more than happy.”

“You were a beautiful child, Mistress; we missed you when you went away.”

“You knew me when I was a child?”

Lucea laughed, and Elyse found herself responding to the deep, joyous sound. “Knew you?” she echoed, shaking her head and walking away.

Elyse turned to Brace, a puzzled expression turning the corners of her mouth down. Brace, too, was smiling.

“What is so amusing?”

Brace’s lips turned serious. “Lucea was the midwife who delivered you.”

Elyse stared at him for a moment, and then glanced at the hardworking form of the midwife. “Oh,” was all she managed to say. For the remainder of the day, she plied Brace with a hundred questions about Lucea, until he told her all about the woman.

When Elyse learned that Lucea was a priestess, her interest was piqued even further. They spent the rest of the day talking about the island religions, and about voodoo.

By the end of the day, Brace gave in to the onslaught of her questions, offering to take her to a voodoo ceremony. Elyse eagerly accepted, and they set the date for three nights later.

*****

Brace stood at the edge of the garden as the silver moon lent a haunting iridescence to the trees and flowers. The saddled horses waiting nearby were as silent as the early night. Lost in thought, he tried to make himself understand the happenings of the past weeks.

Ever since that soul-shattering afternoon with Elyse, he had found it to be a job in itself to concentrate on any but the least difficult of tasks. His mind always wandered back to her, and to the forbidden love they’d shared.

For the two weeks since that special afternoon at the mountain pool, they had not been together as lovers. The constant suppression of his desires, the times when Elyse rode so close he could reach out and touch her, and the way she gazed at him, her eyes filled with unspoken words, were all part of the price he knew he must pay.

Each night as he lay in bed, seeking relief from his tortured thoughts, he asked himself why he stayed. He knew he should leave, ride away from Devonairre, so that Elyse would be free to live the life to which she was destined. But he could not; he loved her too much to walk away from her.

Obsessed,
he told himself.

Brace had forced himself to stay away from her, except when they were about the plantation on business or dining in the main house. His desire for her was so strong, his passions threatened to overrule the logic of his thoughts whenever Elyse was within touching distance.

“Can we not at least be ourselves, here at Devonairre?” she’d asked when they returned from the mountain pool.

“There are eyes everywhere. People learn all the secrets. Elyse, we have declared our love to each other; I will not cheapen it by adding deceit.”

“Nothing that happens between us could be cheapened,” Elyse had stated, and again accepted his wishes.

Brace’s hands balled into tight fists as he stared unseeing at the night. He had put himself in this impossible situation, and he would have to find some way to repair the damages done.

“I’m ready,” came the melodic voice from behind. Brace whirled. Caught off guard by Elyse’s silent approach, his mind fought to return to the present. Then his eyes traveled from her booted feet to the top of her head, and the braided jet hair that rested upon it. His desire flared instantly: he pushed it away.

He drank in her perfection and smelled the very essence of her femininity. “Are you sure you want to go?”

“Very,” Elyse replied as she held his gaze with her own.

Brace turned. Elyse followed him silently, reveling in the grace of his walk and drawing upon the powerful feelings that emanated from him. She wanted to go to him, to be within his strong arms, but she stopped herself from giving in to her desires and reminded herself of the bargain she had made.

It’s so hard,
she thought as Brace’s strong hands went around her waist to help her into the saddle, and a pulsing, radiating fire exploded throughout her body.

The coach pulled to a stop before the inn, and three tired, disheveled people stepped down. The dour-looking woman, her head tilted back, looked down her nose at the cobblestoned streets of Montego Bay. The sun had set half an hour ago; the sky now streaked with a color not unlike a cloth soaked in blood.

Elizabeth Sorrel wrinkled her nose in disdain before looking at her husband. “See to the rooms,” she commanded. Sweat dripped from his face as he went into the inn.

“Well, Jeremy, it looks like we will soon accomplish what we set out for.”

“None too soon for me. This God-forsaken island with its heat and insects will be the death of me.”

“No,” Elizabeth corrected, fixing him with a knowing stare. “It will be the life for all of us.” She smiled.

Jeremy Hollingsby, the Earl of Heymouth, smiled back.

To the slave woman who walked across the street from them, they looked like two predatory animals about to strike at some unprotected prey. She wasn’t too far wrong.

“Remember, none must know our real names,” she said.

“I’m penniless, not witless,” he rejoined.

While their driver, a servant lent to them by the acting governor, began to unload their two trunks, Carl Sorrel returned from the inn. “We have their best rooms,” he told Elizabeth and Hollingsby.

“For what that may be worth,” Hollingsby stated sarcastically. Then his face changed when he saw a woman step into the doorway. She had the long blonde hair and the full, voluptuous body he had always preferred. She smiled at him and he knew she was taking in the rich cut of his clothing, but he was used to that.
Perhaps
, he thought,
I will find some diversion here.

*****

Elyse stared wide-eyed at the gyrating figures dancing around her. The staccato rhythm of the drums threatened to carry her away, as they had already done to the dancers. She grasped Brace’s hand and squeezed it tightly without taking her eyes from the scene.

With his answering pressure on her hand, she was able to relax. They had arrived an hour ago, just as the voodoo ceremony began. She had recognized Lucea, although the woman’s face was a white and red painted mask.

The people had greeted Brace as an old friend, and brought them to a grassy area, a short distance from the waiting followers of the cult. A few moments later, a young woman handed them two wooden cups filled with rum.

Brace took a deep drink and, following his example, Elyse did the same. The powerful spirits stung her throat and brought tears to her eyes; but she held the rum down, and a few seconds later heat spread warmly in her stomach.

Then the drums began. Lucea rose within the center of a circle of dancers, staring into a small fire. She spoke, calling to her loas—her guiding spirit. She offered up her invocation, then grasped the smooth dogwood pointing stick and drew several hieroglyphics in the soft earth.

Surrounding the fire was an assortment of dolls of all shapes. Elyse could tell what some were, others she could not. Lucea looked at each doll in turn, chanting in a low voice and as she did, other voices joined hers.

A man, naked but for a thin loincloth, his face painted white, entered the circle. He stepped to Lucea’s side and held up a small chicken.

Elyse felt a shudder pass through her, but steeled herself for what would come next. Brace had warned her that animal sacrifice was an important part of the ritual.

Faster than she would have expected, the chicken was killed and its blood sprinkled on the fire. The priest left the center and joined the dancers who now began to move.

At first, their graceful movements were well patterned and styled, but as the music grew louder, and the night grew older, their bodies glistened with sweat and their dancing turned into a frenzied individualistic expression of the music.

Seated around the dancers was a line of women, all dressed in simple smocks, all chanting in time with the drums. When the dancers’ movements became wilder, the women’s voices grew louder. Elyse could not understand the words, but she heard plainly, the pleas and the devotion within the haunting sounds.

For an hour the dancing, singing, and praying continued. The volume became uncomfortable as the ear-piercing wails of the women rose, crested, rose, and crested again.

The dancers now moved to their own rhythms; one or two had stopped to stand as deathly still as statues. Others spun in place, while still others danced with slower, more patterned movements.

Elyse kept her eyes on Lucea, who had been swaying to the drums, and watched the Obeah woman’s body ripple with a spasm. Drawing in a sharp breath, Elyse tightened her grip on Brace’s hand.

Lucea chanted strange, unintelligible words and then spun three times in a circle, her gnarled dogwood stick whirling in the air above her head.

The women surrounding the dancers fell silent.

The dancers stopped.

The drums grew louder as their players struck them with hard, powerful strokes.

Lucea stopped whirling. Her eyes widened; the stick in her hand stood out at a perfect right angle from her body, seeming to hang in the air midway between Elyse and Brace.

With her heart beating as loudly as the drums, Elyse sat frozen as Lucea walked toward them, her footsteps jerky. The priestess’s eyes remained wide, and Elyse saw a vacant, faraway glaze covering them.

Lucea came to a stop in front of Elyse. The stick wavered in the air and arced slowly to the ground. When Lucea spoke, her voice was different, coarser than Elyse remembered.

“A restlessness is felt by the spirits. Deceit and treachery—darkness comes from those who disturb them, from those who would change what has been ordained.” Lucea stopped, her body stiff, her face turning up toward the black night sky. A heartbeat later, she looked down at Elyse and spoke in a loud, clear voice. “They are here. Beware… They! Are! Here!”

Elyse gasped at the intensity of Lucea’s words and stare, but before she could figure them out, Lucea turned to Brace, her features stiff as the mask she emulated.

“Another seeks to destroy you. Spurned, anger festers. Look to your mind, it is one you know well.”

Then Lucea stepped back and her face softened. Her eyes, too, lost the hard, glazed, and distant look.

“My loas does not speak clearly to me tonight. It is as if something is interfering. There is danger in the air. I feel it. Be careful, Brace,” she said. Then Lucea turned to Elyse.

“I know not who comes, but take no chances. Yet I do know one thing.” A sudden smile filled her features. She glanced quickly at Brace, and then back at Elyse. “Your heart is good and you have chosen well to whom you have given it.”

With that, Lucea turned away. Brace rose quickly, still holding Elyse’s hand. “Come, it is time to go.”

With ten thousand unanswered questions in her mind, Elyse rose and followed Brace to their horses. They rode home in somber silence. At Devonairre, Elyse waited while Brace unsaddled and put the horses into the stable. When he emerged, a wave of love washed over her. She took his hand and urged him to walk with her. As they walked, Elyse felt the tension mount between them, and knew that once again, Brace fought a battle within himself.

She stopped halfway between the stables and the main house to gaze into his handsome, starlit face. “I love you, Brace. I need you.”

Looking down at her from his heights, he was silent as his eyes roamed her face, and his hand tightened on hers.

“There is a way,” she said, as an idea she’d been playing with for a week pushed her words toward him.

“There is no way.”

“Yes, America. There are no classes. No distinction of birth. If we go there, we’ll be happy.”

“You tempt me more than you can possibly imagine, my love, but can we?” He smiled and, freeing his hand from hers, lifted both hands to cup her face. Holding the satin of her skin between them, his body responded to the touch, but he willed an even tighter control upon his desires.

Then he lowered his lips to hers. The kiss was a soft whisper of love, and when he drew back, Elyse’s heart was racing.

Reluctantly, Brace lowered his hands. He did not want to speak the next words, but knew he had no choice. “We can’t. All we can do is run away. Would you so willingly leave Devonairre? Could you turn your back on your heritage so quickly? Can you walk away from everything your father strove to build and to leave for you? Do you think I could let you?” he added in a lower voice.

“Brace ...” she whispered, knowing that his words were the truth. “I love you.”

“As I love you. No, Elyse, we can’t run away from who we are.”

Then that same fierce determination that had risen within Elyse, first in England, and then again, after she and Brace had made love, returned to give her more hope. “But we will. I know that one day soon, we will be together.”

“Who are they?” Brace asked, his eyes probing her face

“They?” Her brows knitted at the question. “I don’t know who they are. Lucea said, ‘They are here.’”

“Then why did you turn almost white when she spoke to you?”

“She frightened me.”

Brace gazed at her for a long moment before warily accepting what she told him. Within her face, he saw the vulnerability and wanted to draw her to him, hold her tight, and protect her from whatever it was she feared. Instead, he smiled sadly at her. “It’s late.”

“Don’t leave me tonight,” she pleaded.

Fighting off this newest assault on his willpower, Brace drew himself straight. “Good night, Elyse.”

Elyse watched him go, her heart pounding with her unrequited plea. “Good night, Brace,” she called to his back. She did not go to the house; rather, she stood where she was until the darkness of the night swallowed him.

When he was gone, Elyse knew she could not face the emptiness of her bedroom. Turning, she too walked into the night, but her feet carried her along a different path than his. Later, when she looked up, she found herself at the edge of the trees bordering the beach of Bluefish Bay.

In the very sands of the place where she had arrived, not three months ago, Elyse sat and let her mind wander. As the night wore on, so did her thoughts.

“They are here!” Lucea had said. “Beware, they are here.”

Elyse tried to convince herself Lucea’s trancelike mumblings meant nothing, but by the time the moon had set, leaving the night sky deserted, she was certain of Lucea’s meaning. There was only one way to think of it. They—Elizabeth and Carl—were in Jamaica. They hadn’t given up—they hadn’t let her go.

I’m safe here. They can’t hurt me now
, she told herself. Yet her thoughts denied her any comfort. She knew her aunt and uncle too well. If Lucea was right, and they had followed her here, they were planning to harm her so that they could claim the estate for themselves.

Elyse shook away the alarming thoughts of her ex-guardians, making herself believe they could not steal her property from her.
It is too late;
I am the owner of Devonairre and inheritor of all Father’s estate
.

Elyse sat on the sand and stared out toward the dark horizon. Her mind traveled along a thousand avenues, seeking to understand what was happening to her life, until at last, when the sun rose in the east, Elyse stood and cast a final look at the gently rolling waters of the Caribbean Sea and rose to face the new day.