Silver Moon (13 page)

Since the night that Colleen had ridden from Brace’s plantation, not a waking moment had passed without her bitter thoughts focusing on him. His rejection of her love had been a hard blow, especially since he’d been the only man to whom she had ever freely given herself.

Brace’s rejection had festered within her mind, turning her thoughts sour, and making her seek a way of retribution against the man who cast her out so cruelly. She blamed Brace for having to whore again, and face a life of harsh toiling without a chance to find happiness.

Her anger had turned inward over the weeks, burrowing deep within her, where it lay festering behind a facade of uncaring abandon. Yet never a man entered the inn that she did not look over, to see if he might be her avenue of escape.

When the three English visitors arrived ten days before, Colleen had sensed a darkness hovering about them, a darkness matching the one within her soul. She sensed, without knowing how or why, that these three newcomers were here for no good, and that they just might be the means of her salvation.

So, Colleen watched them carefully whenever she could, and even now, as she cleaned a recently vacated table, she listened to their talk, as she did whenever the opportunity arose.

They let everyone know that they’d come to Jamaica for a tour of the island and were seeking investments; Colleen was not so certain. That they were of the ruling class, she had no doubts, for invitations from the planters poured in daily.

At the inn, as with most people of the upper class, Colleen noted they took people around them for granted—the shopkeepers, serving people, and the servants themselves.

For Colleen this was normal, and because of the way they acted, it gave her a chance to keep herself within hearing distance so she could listen intently to their conversations, trying to learn if what she sensed about them was right.

She was aware, too, of the way the younger man looked at her. His hooded eyes were closed to others, but Colleen saw within them a burning of dark desires, and was but waiting for the proper time to play upon them. She smelled the money that seemed to be a part of him, and knew that only with money could she escape from the island.

In bits and snatches, Colleen learned who and why they were here. Gradually, she discovered the three were plotting against another. Before she could put her newfound knowledge to use, she needed to find out the name of their intended victim. She knew only that it was a woman.

Colleen looked around the dimly lit main room of the inn. Except for the three guests, it was deserted. The last customer had stumbled out just after midnight. There were no ships in the harbor tonight, and business had been slow all week.

Her father had left earlier, telling Colleen to close up after the three went to their rooms. She didn’t mind doing so tonight, for it gave her a chance to eavesdrop without her father seeing.

Noticing that the young man’s glass was empty, Colleen left the shadowed corner and approached their table. She stopped next to him, smiling with a knowing look. “Another?” she asked.

She waited while his eyes raked along her face and then went to the ample supply of her breasts. Slowly, the man nodded. Turning to the others, she arched her eyebrows. The woman shook her head, the heavyset man nodded.

Gathering the empty glasses, she returned to the bar, where she filled them with the expensive brandy her father stocked for such guests.

At the table, she placed herself sideways to the younger man. While she served the drinks, his hand grazed her outer thigh. Instead of pulling away, she pressed against it.

A lingering moment later, she stepped back, smiled at him, turned, and walked away. Behind her, the woman spoke. “Can you not hold your twisted lust in check?”

“I would not have to hold anything back, if you had done your job in the first place!”

“Without us, you are nothing!” she spat.

The younger man smiled. “And without me, the same applies to you, dear lady.”

“Leave the serving girl alone. We cannot call attention to ourselves,” Carl interjected.

Jeremy Hollingsby laughed loudly. “What do you call the parties and dinners we’ve been attending? Quiet evenings with a friend?”

Elizabeth’s breath hissed out. “They are necessary. We’ve been feeling out the mood of the island. When we move, none will stop us. All will think us innocent.”

“Until we reach Kingston and the acting governor,” Hollingsby stated.

“He’s a greedy man. He has but a few months to make whatever coin he can before the governor returns. He will do as we agreed.”

“Can you be that certain? After all, he did reject the orders from the High Judge in London. Rejected them outright!” Hollingsby challenged irritably.

“For two reasons: first, because he seeks money; second, because of that damned barrister’s legal papers giving over the inheritance. Is it not worth spending a few more nights on this godforsaken island to have those papers canceled?”

“But that is only the first step. Even when she is in in your custody, the courts will require annual accountings. Without the marriage to me, you will still be poor and at her mercy.”

Hollingsby’s words, spoken with such stiff intensity, made Colleen catch her breath. Tonight she was learning a great deal, but still not enough.
Who is the woman they speak of
?

“The marriage shall take place. Have no fear. Once she is fully in our hands, and the vows spoken, you will have your money and your little virgin, too.”

“And you will have the benefits of your brother’s vast wealth and properties—without the bother of your niece.”

“But first we must get her away from here!” Carl stated.

“And for that we need help,” Hollingsby reminded them. “We need someone who knows the back ways through the island, someone to guide us, or get us a guide back to Kingston.”

“Patience,” Elizabeth said, “I will find someone.”

Colleen’s mind raced with the things she had learned. She concentrated on every word, deliberating carefully on everything, including the inflections of the speakers. She knew there had been something important in their conversation, a clue she needed to figure out. She left the shadowed area where she had been pretending to clean a table, and started toward the bar, her thoughts whirling madly.

At the bar, Colleen turned to look at the trio and saw them rise. Then she realized the Englishman was staring at her. She smiled slowly and let the tip of her tongue trace the outline of her lips.

In that moment, the conversations of the past ten days coalesced in her mind; tonight’s additional information brought everything to culmination. It took all of her self-control to keep her face from showing the shock of her knowledge. “Your brother’s vast wealth and properties… without the bother of your niece…” had been the words that made everything come together.
Devonairre!

She lifted her head to find the English lord walking toward her, open desire written in his eyes as they raked across her breasts. She knew her own eyes were shining with desire, too, but that desire wasn’t for the man; rather, it was for what she sensed the man could do for her.

*****

Brace stood on the small veranda outside his bedroom and studied the night. In his left hand was a snifter, untasted since he’d poured the brandy half an hour ago.

He’d spent the day alone, deep in thought, trying to put into perspective the vacillating emotions that refused him peace. Never before had a woman affected him as Elyse Louden did. He loved her, but it was more than that. The afternoon at the mountain pool had taught him so. When they made love, he gave himself fully, knowing she had done the same with him.

Although desire and passion played a strong part in their relationship, there were other things equally as important—her gentleness, the graceful way she walked; he reveled in her smile and in the way her large green eyes studied him when she thought him unaware. There was magic in the way her hair flowed behind her, shimmering in the sun, and the curves of her mouth were as beautiful as the sweeping arches of her brows.

Closing his eyes, Brace shook away the vision of Elyse. He ached for her touch with a need that was a physical pain, but a pain to which he would not yield.

Brace was torn as never before. All his life he’d followed a path he’d set for himself. He’d planned everything down to the last detail, knowing that one day he would be free of the haunting ghosts of his past and his birth. He would be gone from Jamaica, and the social system, which held him down.

With Elyse’s return, his well-thought-out plans had become the ashes of an all-consuming fire. He wanted her, but not as someone to satisfy his passions; he wanted her with him always, at his side, sharing a full life together.

He knew she could not leave Jamaica and everything that was so much a part of her. Nor would he ask her. Although he sensed she would, he would never ask her to sacrifice everything she had in the name of love.

He understood well, that he stood upon the crossroads of his life, the intersection of his plans and his emotions, and must make the decision that would decide his future. Although he didn’t want to admit it, he knew there was but one choice for him. He must leave—not only Devonairre, but Jamaica, as well. As long as he stayed near Elyse, he would want her and she would want him.

Brace shook his head, and as he was about to turn to go inside, caught a glimpse of a fleeting, white shape walking along the tree-lined garden path.

Elyse
. He was transfixed for long seconds, following her steps, watching the way the thin white material clung to her body. What he could not see in the dark, his memory supplied, and only when she disappeared from sight did his halted breathing begin again.

His blood raced, and his heart beat strongly. His desires rose to attack him, even as his mind tricked him into feeling the softness and warmth of the past.

He willed himself to go inside, but his body refused to obey his commands. Fighting with himself, Brace’s hand tightened around the snifter. An instant later, the shattering of the crystal reverberated in the night, but he did not hear the glass break, or feel the small slivers cutting into the palm of his hand.

He heard nothing except the pounding of desire as he stepped down from the veranda and followed Elyse toward the garden.

Elyse tried, but could not make herself fall asleep. Instead, with her mind swirling restlessly, she left the house for the gardens. Too many disturbing thoughts clashed within her: her love for Brace, their strange relationship, and the fearful warning Lucea had given.

She was uneasy, wondering if the Obeah woman’s words meant her aunt and uncle had come to Jamaica after her.
What could they do? Nothing
! She tried to make herself believe the single word. Then she found herself hating the fears, the shame, and the pride that made her hold back from telling Brace and his parents the truth about what had happened in England.

Shrugging away these thoughts, she entered the garden and walked to the gazebo. She sat on a long, cushioned bench, grasped the woven trellis that was one wall, and leaned against it to look through the open spaces at the night sky.

The moon was full tonight, its sheen a pure silver. Only a few clouds dotted the sky, flowing along the air currents, illuminated to a cottony white by the moon.

I love you.
The words were silent, said to the vision of Brace floating before her eyes. Come
to me, please, come to me.

Elyse knew the futility of her prayer. Brace continually held himself away from her. The fact that he was doing it for her didn’t matter anymore…nothing mattered as long as they were apart.

She’d learned that afternoon in the mountains, that neither love, nor money, nor titles, nor power, was what was important. Only Brace, she realized, could not accept that.

If he will not come to me, then I must go to him! It wasn’t the first time she had thought of this, but each time she had dismissed the idea immediately. This time she did not; instead, she thought about it, casting aside the fears and the shame she knew must not become a part of her love.

So lost in thought was she, that she didn’t hear the crunching of stones, or the footsteps coming on to the wooden floor of the gazebo. All she was aware of was her own anguish, and the taunting, heady scents of the night orchids.

Standing in the center of the gazebo, Brace stared at Elyse’s shadowed form. His heart beat too fast, his mind, filled with desperation and need. He watched her gazing upward at the moon, her face awash with silver light, the beauty within it haunting.

He raised his arm, his hand outstretched toward her. “Elyse.”

Elyse heard her name from what seemed to be a thousand miles away. Turning slowly, she wondered if it were her imagination. Then she saw him. His face, handsome and bold, floated before her eyes. His arm was outstretched, his hand open and waiting.

You came.
Dreamlike, Elyse rose and went to him, took his hand, and stared into his eyes. Within them, was love, passion, anger, and confusion. She could not speak.

He drew her to him, pulling her close. His mouth covered hers, crushing her lips with the intensity of his need. His hands grasped her small waist, lifting her up, pressing her to his chest, and crushing the breath out of her with strength and desire.

Then he released her. She was on her feet, staring into the swirling depths of his deep, passionate eyes, and the dangerous glint that seemed to be a new part of him. She did not flinch, for she knew no fear of her love. They were together again. The burning brand of his mouth trailed along the side of her neck. Her hands went to his hair, winding through the abundant mass as she pressed his mouth tighter to her. Her neck arched; her eyes were open and staring at the gazebo’s thatched roof as the passions and desires broke free within her.

Brace’s hand grasped the bodice of her nightdress, and with one swift pull, ripped it free. The night air brushed across her breasts for a half a heartbeat before his hands and mouth covered them.

Elyse’s breath came in short, sharp gasps. Waves of pulsating desire swept through her. Her hands, still bound within Brace’s hair pressed him harder to her breasts.

Brace’s mouth left her breasts. His body slid downward, his lips setting fire to every part of her they touched.

Just when her legs threatened to crumble, and her body explode with the pain of her need for him, Brace stopped.

Standing slowly, he lifted Elyse from her feet and carried her to the long bench upon which she had been sitting. There, he knelt above her, and still without speaking, pulled the remnants of her nightdress free.

*****

The room was quiet. The one small lantern fluttering on the night table gave off just enough light to permit the two people sharing the bed to see each other.

Colleen’s blonde hair shimmered; her tanned skin accented Hollingsby’s thin body and ghostlike pallor. But to the two sweat-dampened people, nothing mattered other than their own thoughts.

After her discovery of their clandestine plans, and the inspiration that had come to her to manipulate these people to her advantage, Colleen had used all of her womanly wiles in an effort to please the nobleman. When he had taken her to his room and started making love to her, she sensed a perversity in his nature and made herself give in to it, doing whatever would make him happy, refusing to think about what it was.

“Did I please you?” Colleen asked, bending over Hollingsby and flicking her tongue across his nipple.

“Surprisingly so. Who would have expected it here?”

“Did I please you a lot?” she asked again, her pale eyes suddenly locking with his. “Did I do everything just the way you wanted?”

Hollingsby stared at her, thinking about the past three hours. “Perfectly.” With the suddenness of the unexpected, his hand whipped out, catching her hair and twisting it painfully. He dragged her back until she was lying flat, staring at him with wide, frightened eyes. Her full breasts rose and fell rapidly as she tried to control her fear.

“What do you want?” His voice was hard, his eyes flat.

Colleen bit back her fear and made her body relax. “I want to help you.”

“Help me? How can you help me?”

“You…you said you needed a guide...”

“You were spying on us!” The hand in her hair tightened. His free hand rose threateningly.

“I want to get away from here. I want to help you.”

“What did you overhear?” he asked, loosening his hold only slightly.

Colleen stared at him for a long moment. Then she smiled. “Enough to know you’re not what you present yourselves to be. That you’re here because of Elyse Louden.”

As suddenly as Hollingsby had caught her, he released her, laughing as he did so. “You’ve got gall, I’ll say that for you.”

“And I want a way out of Jamaica.”

“You think I’m the way out?”

“You have to be!” she declared vehemently.

Hollingsby studied the determination on her face. His intuition came into play, and he recognized within her the same grasping needs that were a part of him. He knew that Colleen was just who she said she was, and that he could trust her. “Tell me, can you guide us across the island, take us to Kingston without any planter seeing us?”

Colleen knew when not to lie. Now was one such time. “No. But I know someone who can—for enough money.”

“Money will be no problem.”

“When are you going after her?”

“When the time is right.”

“I will help.”

Hollingsby smiled. “Yes, yes, you will.” This time his smile was very different. His hand stole into her hair, gripping it tightly. His other hand grasped her breast, twisting it cruelly.

“I’m ready to be pleased again!”

Colleen looked into his hard, flat eyes. She wet her lips seductively, her entire being excited, fueled not by the man who was about to use her again, but by the thoughts of the revenge she was about to take on Brace.

*****

With the waning of their powerfully spent passions, a gentleness stole over them. Brace held Elyse closely, caressing her back with his hand, running his fingers from the nape of her neck to the swell of her rear. His hands never stayed still, his mind the same.

With her face buried on his chest, the sweet scent of her hair filled his nostrils. Their lovemaking had been a silent, passionate bonding that had carried both of them to another place far away from Jamaica, where loving each other was good and no harm could ever come of it. However, they were back now, and they had to face reality.

“I fought, I tried not to come after you, but I couldn’t stop myself,” he said truthfully.

Elyse lifted her head from his chest and gazed into his eyes, her face set in serious lines. “If you had not, then I would have come to you. I cannot bear to be so close to you, having to turn away all the time.”

“I know,” he whispered. “I know.”

Elyse shifted and took his hand in hers. She brought it to her mouth and gently kissed the palm. When she did, she tasted blood.

Looking down, she saw several cuts. “What happened?” 

Brace’s laugh was low, not one of amusement. “Part of my battle with myself.”

Elyse brought his hand to her mouth, and carefully, slowly, kissed every cut. “There can be no more fighting.” She lowered his hand until it cupped her breast.

Brace let his hand stay there, covered by her own. Healing heat radiated into his cut palm. “There will not be.”

It was as if the weight of the world lifted from her shoulders. She smiled hesitantly and her eyes filled with tears.

Brace, seeing her reaction, pulled away from her. He sat up, but held her gaze with his own. “I’m leaving Jamaica.”

Elyse’s body froze. Her heart threatened to stop, and her mind began turning black. “Why?” she whispered.

“You know why.”

“I’m going with you.”

“No.”

“Brace ...”

“I’m not as strong as I thought. I believed I was strong enough to stay here, to watch over you, to protect you, but I can’t. I’m only a man—a man whose desires overrule his mind.”

“The hell you are!” Elyse shouted, pulling herself upright. She stood, facing him, uncaring of her nakedness, the moonlight accenting the rise and fall of her breasts. “You’re not just a man, Brace Denham, you are my man!”

“Who can offer you only shame.”

“Who can offer me everything I need! Don’t let some foolish idea of pride stop us.”

“Pride is the one thing that makes me who I am. My pride is the only thing that they can’t take from me. Without it, I would not have survived life here.”

“Don’t walk away from me, Brace. Don’t do this to us.”

“I have to, Elyse, it’s that simple.”

She stared at him, tears spilling from her eyes. She heard the finality of his words, and even as they struck her painfully, her own proud heritage rose to her defense.

“I love you, Brace, and I am not ashamed of my love. I want you to stay, to be with me, always. I won’t beg. I, too, have my pride. If you must leave, if you cannot live with our love, then I have no chains to hold you.” Elyse bent and picked up the remnants of her dress. Pressing them to her breasts, pulling her shoulders straight, and lifting her head proudly, she turned and walked from the gazebo, aware that Brace’s eyes followed every step she took.