The Wild Belle (14 page)

“I don’t have a home of my own. There is no use in me to have one really. I travel almost the entire year, so when I am home, I stay with my parents. But, yes, it is a large home—three stories.”

“That is a big house.”

“It had to be. There were nine of us after all—eleven, if you count my parents.” He drew his brow together as he looked at her. “Well, I’ll be damned . . . it would have been twelve if my father had known about Max.”

“Who’s Max?”

“Oh, that’s right, you weren’t there when I discussed my family.” Michael went on to explain his family. As they walked, Michael studied the buildings around him. The slaves’ quarters were well made and maintained. All were brick with glass windows and sturdy doors. Each home had small a chimney extending from the rooftop. They were nothing like the shacks that he had witnessed at some of the other plantation owners’ estates.

When they stopped in front of a home, he ended his story with, “I can’t wait to return. I had to depart early the next morning after father’s announcement. Max has a daughter so I have a new niece to become acquainted with.” He drew his brow together in thought. “Aw, hell . . . I have one more niece or nephew on the way since Max’s wife, Kristina, is expecting.”

Andrea hadn’t realized his family was so large. They all traveled and were infrequently home, but they were close, closer than she was with her own family. She looked up at the handsome man beside her and a feeling hit her in the center of her chest. She could feel her heart tighten as she gazed at him. She broke the feelings building inside her by saying, “We’re here,” and she assisted him up a small step.

She knocked on the door once and waited. A minute later an old black woman emerged from the home. She was stooped over midway down her back. Her white hair was pulled back in a bun on the back of her head. She looked around and Michael noticed that her eyes were just as white as her hair.

“Who’s there?” the woman asked and reached out in front of her.

“It’s me, Nellie,” Andrea answered, patting the old woman on the hand.

“Why, Miss Andi, what brings ya by ta see me sa early today?”

“I have someone who needs your attention.”

“And who would that be, child?” Nellie asked, a caring smile on her face.

Andi swallowed nervously. “My husband.”

Michael watched the smile melt off the old woman’s face. She pulled Andi closer to her. “It ain’t that Earl fella, is it?” Her voice was far from being quiet, letting whoever was around know that she did not care if they heard.

“No, I’m not,” Michael replied.

“Oh, ho! He sounds like a handsome fella. I like deep voices,” Nellie replied as she reached towards Michael. “Makes me wiggle.” A coquettish smile crossed her face.

Michael took her outstretched hand. She patted his knuckles and a concerned look came to her face. “Who’ve you been fightin’ with?”

“How did you—”

“Yer hands are rough, sa I can tell yer used ta hard work and been doin’ it fer a while. But yer knuckles shouldn’t be swollen, unlessin’ yer new to it, which ya ain’t.”

“Amazing,” Michael responded, observing the blind woman before him.

“It’s jest common sense. Now what do I call ya?”

“His name is Michael St. John,” Andrea answered.

Her faded eyes lit up. “Oh, yer that ship man, ain’t ya?”

“Yes.”

Nellie allowed her hand to travel to the bend of Michael’s elbow. “Help an old blind woman find a chair while Miss Andi gets us somethin’ ta drink.”

Michael assisted Nellie to a rocking chair on the porch. “Go on now, child. I promise I won’t try and steal yer man.”

Andi smiled and entered Nellie’s home. When Nellie heard the door close, she sat down in her chair but held onto Michael’s arm. She pulled him down to her. “Treat her good. She’s a wild spirit and I would hate ta see that spirit broken.”

“You have my word.”

She let go of Michael’s arm and leaned back into her chair. “She fancies you, ya know. Yer all she’s talked ‘bout since she met ya, even when she thought you were that Earl fella.”

“I thought you didn’t like ‘that Earl fella’.”

“I don’t. But I liked him when she thought you was him. Then she told me ya wasn’t him, but he was someone else and not a kind man . . . well, I didn’t take a fancy ta him at all.”

Michael stared at the woman with confusion trying to comprehend what she just said. She was just as confusing as Max’s wife, Kristina. “So you don’t like Peterson, but you like me.”

“That’s jest what I said now, ain’t it?” she said with a twinkle to her faded eyes. “Now let me have a look at ya. I can’t see, but I can feel.” She outstretched her wrinkled hands.

Michael knelt down in front of her and she took her hands and began to examine his features. He watched as her bony fingers came towards him. She furrowed her brow together as she studied him.

“Such a handsome young man, but you have too much responsibility ta be sa young.” Her hands traveled to his eyes. “But ya enjoy life and laugh frequently. Good qualities.” Her hands traveled down to his chin. She rubbed his whiskers and smiled wickedly. “Don’t let these stay ta short, scratches a woman’s face. But I like them.”

A deep laugh escaped Michael’s chest.

“What has she said?’ Andi asked, emerging from the home carrying three glasses of apple cider.

“I said he’s a handsome scrapper. Jest be glad I’m not sixty years younger er I’d be after him like a duck on a June bug.”

“Oh, Nellie,” Andi replied with humor and handed the woman her drink.

They drank and talked almost all morning and afternoon. Somewhere between their conversations, Nellie applied a salve to Michael and the swelling began to decrease. After his conversation with the old woman, Michael had an entirely different outlook on this family. He knew they were kind and caring, but he never dreamed that they had almost lost everything to buy all the slaves. And not just to have workers but to protect them from the cruelty of their former owners. Many of the slaves didn’t work on the plantation, but helped take care of each other.

The sun was making its downward decline when Michael and Andrea said their good-byes to Nellie and walked back to the house. Andrea looked at Michael and smiled. He had been so patient and caring with Nellie. He had been at her beck and call all afternoon. Andrea knew Michael could have refused, but he whispered to her that he knew Nellie liked the attention. Andrea could tell that Michael’s attention to Nellie made the old woman feel young again. Maybe marriage to this man wouldn’t be such a bad thing after all.

Chapter Fifteen

It had been two days since Andrea’s marriage to Michael. Two whole days. When they had returned back to the big house after their visit with Nellie, Andrea found that her belongings had been moved into Michael’s room. She attempted to move them back, but Sally would not let her, telling her that her place was now with her husband.

Andrea sighed deeply as she looked out the window. Two whole days of marriage and just as many rainy nights. Lightning danced across the afternoon sky. The windows vibrated from the rumble of thunder. A shudder ran down her spine. She hated storms. Ever since that hurricane several years ago, she had hated storms. The hurricane damaged her home and sent a tree crashing into her room, landing on her bed with her in it. She had been lucky. It had only landed on her legs and her soft bed gave beneath the weight of the tree, preventing her legs from being crushed.

She turned away and headed towards the room she was now sharing with Michael. He gallantly took the floor each night so she could sleep in the bed. She hadn’t been back into the room since she left early this morning. She had arisen early and taken a morning ride in between the storms. After her ride, she had visited and had an early lunch with Nellie.

Entering the room, she found Michael sitting in the corner with his back towards the door. His right leg was extended straight out and he had his left leg bent at the hip and knee. He was wearing a pair of loose dark gray cotton pants and nothing else. She watched the muscles ripple across his back. He reached into the sea chest and then moved his arm back and forth gently. He was softly speaking to whatever it was in the trunk.

She quietly approached and heard him speak again, still unable to understand him. As she got closer, she heard him say, “Now what do you plan on doing when I leave on Sunday? You will have to move your babies, you know.”

“Who are you talking to?” Andrea asked, still unable to see what was in the trunk.

“My new roommates,” Michael replied and turned towards her. “All six of them.”

Andrea sucked in her breath. “Pepper had her kittens?”

“Yes. And in my sea chest of all places.”

Andrea raced over to the trunk and peered down. Pepper was stretched out on her side in the chest. She had her eyes closed and was purring softly, her paws working in and out, as six kittens—each one a different color than their mother—nursed.

Andrea knelt down beside the chest and gently stroked the cat. “Pepper, why did you have to go have your kittens in Michael’s chest? There were plenty of other, more well hidden places for you to have them.”

The cat answered by opening one eye and then let out a soft meow.

“I think she told you why.” Michael laughed and looked at his wife.

Andrea looked at her husband. She allowed her eyes to travel over his face and then make their way to his broad chest. There was a triangular patch of hair in the center that traveled down past his navel into the waistband of his pants. She swallowed hard and looked back up into his eyes. They had darkened. Taking a nervous breath, she licked her lips.

He reached his hand out and placed it on the base of her neck and pulled her to him. He gently kissed her. She leaned closer into his kiss. As the kiss intensified, there was a small knock on the door.

Michael pulled back and looked at Andrea. There was another knock. Michael stood up and walked over to the door. He roughly jerked it open. His look must have shown his annoyance at being disturbed, because Sally took a step back.

“What is it?” Michael snapped.

Sally swallowed nervously. “You have a caller, Mr. Michael.”

“Who?”

“Lord Peterson. He’s downstairs with Master Ott, demandin’ to see you.”

Michael nodded his head. “Tell him I will be down momentarily.”

“Yes, sir.” Turning quickly, she left.

Andrea’s eyes grew wide upon hearing who was downstairs. “Oh, no!” she said with dread. “The contract. What are we going to do?”

Michael closed the door and turned towards Andrea. “Nothing,” he said nonchalantly and walked to the wardrobe.

“Nothing? But I was engaged to him, now I’m married to you. He will still get my dowry!”

“No. He won’t.”

“Really?” she asked with doubt in her voice.

“Yes. You see, the contract could be broken if you were carrying another man’s child or—”

“Or what?”

“Caught in a compromising situation with someone where your virtue would no longer be intact, then it would be null and void.”

“Wait a minute. You just now noticed that part?”

“Yes and no. I did not have the complete contract when I first read through it. The night of Alyssa’s coming out, I slipped into Ott’s office and retrieved the documents . . . all of the documents. He had misplaced several pages.”

“Misplaced them!”

“His desk is a mess. I could see how they became lost.”

She took a frustrated breath. “But my virtue is still intact.”

“For now,” Michael said as he pulled on his shirt.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

Michael crossed the room to her. “I will tell you what that means. It means that I will be faithful to you for only so long, Andi. I am a man and I have needs.”

Andi took a quick breath in. “You mean you would force yourself on me?”

“No. But I do have certain husbandly rights and needs. And if you do not fill those needs, I will have them met somewhere else.”

“You mean you would take a mistress?” she asked heatedly.

“Heavens, no.” His confession softened her expression until he continued, “Mistresses are too needy. Whores, on the other hand, expect no commitment.”

Michael didn’t even flinch as her palm connected with his still tender cheek.

“That was a bastardly thing to say,” she hissed.

Michael’s eyes narrowed. “Be warned, Andi. That will be the one and only time you strike me. But don’t worry about finding out about my dalliances. I have given it much thought and have decided you should remain here with your family.”

“What?!”

“Do you have a problem with that?”

“Yes! Everyone will think that you abandoned me. That you didn’t want me.”

“As I recall, you didn’t want this marriage either. This will give you the freedom you have always desired. Feel free to take a lover. I plan on it.”

“You bastard! Why are you being so mean to me?”

“Because I have to travel. The places I go are no place for a woman. Besides neither of us have any emotional attachment to this marriage,” he lied. “You have to stay somewhere, Andi. You have family here. In Eleuthera you would know no one. You would be alone. I just figured you would prefer staying here.”

“Fine,” she seethed and stormed to the door. “I would hate to inconvenience you and your sexual desires.” She turned towards him at the door. “If you had no intention of taking me with you, then why did you marry me? Why didn’t you just let me marry Peterson?”

“Because we were caught. I had to make it right. I did the proper thing, Andi.”

She slammed the door so hard that it knocked a painting off the wall. He hated to be so cruel to her, but he had to be. He was leaving and they were getting too close. If he left her with no emotional attachments towards him, it would be easier on her. He’d had to adjust to the pain of leaving his family too many times to not know how to handle it. Every time he left home, it killed him leaving his family, and he knew she would feel the same.

He quickly changed and went to the study. Entering the room, he heard Peterson yelling at Ott.

“I ought to kill you for this, Mr. Craycraft!” Egbert yelled as he pointed at Ott.

“Are you threatening me?” Ott questioned heatedly.

“She was promised to me!”

“And now she’s mine,” Michael casually replied from the doorway.

Egbert turned to face Michael, the rage apparent in the Earl’s cold brown eyes. “You damned St. Johns! You keep interfering in my life. With my women!”

Michael walked to the liquor cabinet and poured himself a drink. His casual nature infuriated Egbert even more. “Damn it, St. John! Say something!”

Michael swirled the amber liquid around his glass. Downing his drink in one swallow, he turned to face Peterson. He nonchalantly leaned his shoulder against the cabinet. A sneer crossed Peterson’s face when he noticed the bruising to Michael’s face.

“Did Mrs. Craycraft beat you when she found out you were bedding her daughter?”

“Get out,” Michael said calmly.

“No! I demand satisfaction!”

Michael crossed the room to Peterson in several long strides. He pushed the man against the wall and held him off the floor by his shirt collar. “Hear me now, Peterson. Leave and I will let you live to try to embezzle money from some other unsuspecting family.”

“Release me. I am an Earl!”

“I don’t give a damn if you’re the bloody King himself. You threatened my family and now you threatened me. I should kill you right now.”

“I hope that little slut was as good as her sister, because when I’m—”

His words were cut off when Michael landed his fist to Peterson’s face. Egbert slid down the wall, unconscious.

Michael turned to find Ott staring at him, his mouth agape. Michael picked Peterson up and hefted him over his shoulder like an old rug. He carried him out to his awaiting carriage and roughly tossed him in. Egbert landed upside down in the coach. Michael slammed the carriage door shut and looked up at the man in the driver’s seat.

“Kindly inform the Earl that if I see him back here again they will be shipping his body back to London in pieces.”

The driver looked down nervously at Michael. “Yes, sir.”

“Now leave.”

The driver took the reins and snapped them forcefully over the backs of the horses and left the
Double Oasis
in a run.

Michael looked up and could feel the hard rain hitting his face. A violent rumble of thunder echoed throughout the plantation. He turned to find Ott standing on the veranda with a concerned look on his face. Michael said nothing as he stared at the older man.

Ott saw the evil look on Michael’s face and was taken aback. This man who appeared so calm and easygoing had turned into a raging inferno. He could have easily killed Peterson with his bare hands. With just one hit, he had knocked the Earl unconscious. Ott watched as Michael turned and headed towards the barn.

The barn was empty, which was to be expected in such weather. There was no work that could be completed during the hard rains. Michael led Ghost out of the stall and climbed onto the horse’s bare back. He spurred the horse out of the barn and took off at a gallop towards the lake.

The thunder rolled and the lightning flashed fiercely as he ran the horse. The ferocity of the storm matched Michael’s mood. He made his way to the back part of the lake towards the cave Andi had showed him. He tied Ghost up under a small overhang and climbed the slippery rocks to the cave. He didn’t know why he came here. Something just told him to.

As he made his way into the cave he caught a glimpse of someone inside. He eased his way along the darkened walls. A flash of lightning lit up the cave and he could make out a silhouette. He moved closer and heard a female voice mumbling. A smile crossed his face, realizing it was Andi. He stepped out of the shadows to reveal his presence to her.

She turned at the noise and her eyes narrowed at the sight of him. “What are you doing here?”

“Looking for you,” he said and stepped away from the wall.

“Why? Looking to humiliate me some more? Or to taunt me with your threats of infidelity?”

“No,” he said and took a step towards her.

She held up her hand to stop him. “Stay right there. Don’t come near me. You have made your feelings for me perfectly clear. You should have just let me marry Egbert. At least
he
wanted me.”

“He wanted your money, nothing more.”

“What do you care? You’re leaving me to deal with the ridicule and humiliation of being an unwanted bride. At least he would have taken me with him.”

“Yes. And then once he had run through all your money, he would have killed you. Your family would be devastated. At least this way, you won’t have to leave your family.”

“Like you care about my feelings.”

“More than you know,” he softly replied.

“Why would you care?”

“I know how it feels to leave your family, Andi. I have done it too many times. People say you adjust to it, but you don’t. No one can make their feelings that numb. I could not do that to you, to your family.”

“So why did you say all those hateful things to me?” she asked quietly.

Shaking his head he said, “I don’t know. To make you hate me, so when I left, you would accept it.”

They looked at each other as another strike of lightning crossed the sky. He took a step towards her.

“Stop,” she whispered as she took a step back.