The Flame and the Flower (15 page)

"You're very beautiful, my love," he said hoarsely, coming forward to the bed. His eyes were like flames of fire, scorching her. He reached out and pulled her to her knees. "You're even more lovely than I remembered."

Still on her knees, she came reluctantly to him as he drew her into his embrace. His hands slid carelessly under her gown and over her buttocks as he bent his head slowly to her, and trembling, Heather waited for his kiss. But before his lips pressed upon hers, he drew away the slightest degree and laughed softly in his mocking way.

"You are more willing now, my love, than you were before. Does marriage make it so different? Was that the price you were selling your body for? And here I thought at last was a woman pure in heart who would willingly give her body to no man for a price, only for love."

"Oh, you horrible wretch!" she cried angrily, trying to snatch free. "What do I have to say in the matter? You will rape me as you did before, whether I struggle or not."

"Be quiet," he said quickly, jerking her closer and forcing her to be still. "Do you want the others to hear and break down the door? Lord Hampton is just waiting for the invitation."

"What do you care?" she taunted viciously. "You are stronger than he. What will it matter if you have to throw him out before you finish your business with me?"

A muscle twitched in Brandon's cheek and already Heather knew that slight movement meant danger. He glared down at her, his green eyes fierce and frigid.

"I wouldn't assert my husbandly rights upon you tonight if you were the last woman in the world," he sneered.

Heather stopped struggling immediately and raised her eyes to his in surprise, wondering if she had heard him correctly. His eyelids lowered and his jeering grin reappeared, showing startling white teeth against the darkness of his skin and beard.

"You heard right, my dear. I have no intention of making love to you in this house tonight." He ignored the expression of relief on her face and went on. "When I take my pleasure of you, my love, it will be in my own way, in my own house or on my own ship, and not where another man is waiting anxiously to barge in and pull us apart, and certainly not when that man is holding an axe over my head."

"An axe?" she repeated innocently, relaxing against him.

"Don't tell me you don't know. Surely you knew of their plan. I cannot believe you were not in with them."

"I don't know what you're talking about," she said cautiously.

He laughed bitterly. "Always innocent, aren't you, sweet?" His eyes dropped to her bosom and he ran his fingers over the side of her breast where the filmy gown left it bare. His thumb brushed her nipple underneath. "Always innocent," he said softly. "Always beautiful. Always cold."

She allowed his hands to caress her. They were gentle and as long as nothing would follow and he was her husband, she would not take the chance to stir his anger by refusing him this much. But she persisted with her questioning. She wanted to know what axe they had used.

"How did they make you marry me?" she inquired softly.

His lips touched her hair and moved to her throat and Heather shivered involuntarily at their burning intensity. His hand stroked her breast still and seemed not to want to stop. Nervously she pulled away, fearing he would not keep his word. She reached and drew the bedcovers over her and sank down again in the middle of the bed.

"Are you going to tell me?" she whispered, staring at him.

His mood was again mocking, cruel, angry. "Why should I? You've heard it all before. But if it matters so much to hear it from my lips I shall tell you. Your dear lordship was going to convict me of smuggling and selling arms to the French, despite the fact I'm lily white. I would have been sent to prison, my ship taken from me, and God only knows what would have happened to my plantation back home. Very crafty of your friend, I must say."

He yanked off his coat and threw it into a chair and began untying his stock.

"Do you know I am—or shall I say, I was engaged to be married when I returned home? What am I supposed to tell her—my fiancée? That I saw you and couldn't help myself?"

He paused a moment, pulling his shirt from his brown shoulders. He gazed at her angrily.

"I don't like being forced, my dear. It goes against my grain. If you had come to me when you first learned of your pregnancy, I would have helped you. I may have even married you if you had acted as if you desired marriage with me, but to send your mighty friend and threaten me, it was a most unwise thing for such a little girl to do."

Wide-eyed and fearful, Heather huddled under the sheet as if it would give her protection from his savage hands if he turned on her. He moved about the room, blowing out candles and she watched him cautiously. He had stripped to the waist and did not appear to have any thought of stopping there. But for the moment he settled down in a chair by the bed.

"You know you're very beautiful, don't you?" he said, coldly appraising her. "You could have had any man of your choosing, and yet you had to have me. I would like to know the truth, if you don't mind. Did you perhaps learn that I have wealth?"

She looked at him strangely, seeing no need for him to ask. "I know nothing of your financial situation," she replied softly. "You were just the man who—who took my virginity. I couldn't go to another man, sullied as I was and with your child in me. I would have given birth to a bastard before stooping so low."

"Your honorable nature is to be applauded, madam," he said in a light, bantering tone, and his scoffing burned her.

"Why should you have been allowed to go merrily upon your way and not made to right the wrong you did?" she cried.

He was beside her in an instant.

"Please, my dear," he said uneasily. "Refrain from raising your voice above a whisper or we'll find ourselves with company. I have no desire to be thrown into prison by your Lord Hampton because he thinks I am mistreating you—especially since I've already made you my wife."

His anxiety pleased her, but she went on in a hushed whisper. "You say you dislike force. Well, I loathe it, but I could do nothing to stop you from taking your pleasure of me. Now you're angry because you've had to pay the piper, yet you do not think of the child I carry—what it might have suffered, born a bastard."

"The child would have been well cared for and so would you have been."

She laughed ungraciously. "As your bastard and your mistress? No, thank you. I'd have slit my throat before consenting to that proposal."

The tic in his cheek returned and he stared at her for such a long time she sat transfixed like a bird before a snake, then lids lowered slightly over mocking eyes.

"A woman who is kept by a man is usually better tended than his wife. I would have been kind and more than generous with you."

"Meaning you will not be now," she said with sarcasm.

"Exactly," he answered smoothly, heartlessly terrifying her. He got up from the bed and stared down at her. "As I've said, I don't like being blackmailed, and for you I've chosen a fitting punishment. You wanted security and a name for our child. You will have them, my dear—but you'll not have one damned thing more. You'll be hardly better than a servant in my home. You'll have the name you wanted, but you'll have to beg and plead to have me grant your slightest wish. You won't have any money nor will you lead a normal life, though I will be careful to save you the embarrassment of others knowing of your situation. In other words, my dear, the position you thought so honorable will be no more than your own special prison. You won't even share with me the more tender moments of marriage. You'll be just an-other servant in my eyes. As my mistress you would have been treated as a queen, but you will now know me as master and nothing more."

"You mean we won't be—intimate?" she asked with much surprise.

"You've caught on quickly, my love. And you needn't worry about me in that respect. I won't be cutting my own throat to spite my face. You're only one woman among many, and for a man it is easy to find relief for his baser needs."

Heather sighed with the joy of the disburdened and smiled, gloating over her good fortune. "Sir, nothing could please me more, I assure you."

He sneered at her coldly. "Yes, I can see that you're pleased now. But your hell has only begun, m'lady. I'm not termed a pleasant sort to live with. I have a foul temper which can snap up a small tart like you without a second's notice. So be warned, my beauty. Do not tempt it. Tread lightly and perhaps you will survive. Do you understand?"

She nodded, no longer licking her lips over her blessings.

"Now go to sleep. It will be some time before I'm able to do the same."

Quick to obey, lest he should find fault with her so soon, she slid down into the bed with haste and drew the covers under her chin, watching him warily as he moved across the room to the balcony doors. He opened them and stepped out into the moonlight. Not taking her eyes from him, Heather turned on her side carefully so she would not draw his attention back to her. Again he had taken up the stance of a sailor looking out to sea and the moon touched on his handsome face and broad shoulders. His smooth, brown skin gleamed in its light, and she drifted to sleep staring out at him.

Heather awakened abruptly when Brandon fell back on the pillow beside her, and drugged with sleep, she thought he would do some harm to her. She sat up with a startled cry on her lips and flung up an arm as if to ward him off. But he caught it with a snarl and jerked her back to her pillow.

"Be quiet, you little fool!" he growled, leaning over her. "I had no intentions of spending the night in a chair and leaving you the bed."

A tremor of fright passed through her body as he held her down. He was just above her in the darkness and his warm breath touched her face. The moonlight streaming in from the balcony etched his angry profile.

"I didn't mean to cry out," she whispered fearfully. "I was just startled."

"For God's sake, be startled some other time," he snapped. "I have an aversion to prisons."

"Lord Hampton wouldn't—" she began softly.

"The hell he wouldn't! Now that you have my name, your honor is restored, but if he thought he acted unwisely in giving you to me, he would go ahead with his threat and toss me into prison just to keep me from you. So despite what you feel about me, if you want our child to grow up with a father, please don't offer him any encouragement."

"I hadn't intended to," she replied in a whisper.

"You couldn't have proved it by me," he retorted.

"Oh, you!" she hissed, trying to struggle free from his grasp. "Why was I so unlucky to be put upon by you! You're—you're abominable!"

He laughed softly as he held her down. "Some women wouldn't agree with you, my dear."

"Oh, you cad!" she panted breathlessly. "You vile, uncouth, loathsome rapist—defiler of women! I loathe and detest you."

He caught her to him, his lean, hard body immensely threatening to her small frame, and gave her a quick, silencing, bone-breaking squeeze.

"Be careful, my beauty, or you will find yourself with your hands full. I can stop your screams quite easily. It will not discomfort me in the least to act the husband."

She gasped with pain as his grip tightened again, and Heather thought she would be crushed in his brutal arms. She felt his thighs against her own quaking, cowardly limbs and realized that she was the only one even partially clothed. But the gown was little comfort. It was wound around her waist and bared a breast whose fullness was now crushed to his chest. There was no question to his desires.

"Please," she whimpered as his hold became more harrowing. "I will be good. Do not hurt me so."

His deep chuckle made a shiver of fright pass through her body as he continued to hold her, then quite suddenly he released her and dropped her back to the pillow.

"Go to sleep. I won't bother you."

She drew the covers under her chin with quivering fingers and curled on her side facing him, shaking uncontrollably. The moonlight made the room bright and she saw that his eyes were open and he lay flat on his back with his hands under his head, staring up at the ceiling. Even in the dimness of the room she thought she saw his cheek vibrate with rage.

"Where is your home?" she questioned softly, a long while later.

He sighed heavily. "Charleston of the Carolinas."

"Is it very beautiful there?" she ventured again.

"To me it is. You may not like it," he replied stiffly.

She dared not ask more of what was to be her home. She had braved enough as it was.

A chilling breeze came through the opened balcony doors and woke her at the first break of dawn. At just awakening, she was out of sorts, not being able to recognize her surroundings. But she soon became aware of the man she pressed to for warmth. Her left hand lay across his chest over the crisp, dark hair covering it, and her cheek rested against his sturdy shoulder. He slept soundly, his face turned slightly toward her, relaxed in slumber.

Not moving for fear of awakening him, she studied him at her leisure. Her eyes traced the firm, straight mouth, now softened with sleep, and the long, dark lashes which lay on brown cheeks.