Emerald Ecstasy (13 page)

Daniel stroked her hair. “Mother, please don't cry. I'm home. I don't want your tears.”

She broke away from the place where her face rested on his chest. She examined his face and found it to be careworn. Tiny lines fanned out from the corners of his gray eyes. Lines which hadn't been there before he left Green Meadows. “I'm just overcome. Your arrival isn't unexpected, but I hadn't thought you'd be home on this of all days.”

His gaze traveled to the people in the parlor.

“Philippe's marriage,” Dera explained.

“I suppose I should offer my congratulations, or should I say condolences, to the blushing bride.”

“I'll introduce you.”

Daniel followed Dera into the room where the wedding guests were assembled. He spotted Amelie sitting on the couch. When she saw him, surprise flooded her face, then dismay. He intended to speak to her, to give her the obligatory kiss on the cheek. However, at that moment, the guests dispersed and opened the circle which enclosed the groom and the bride.

Daniel's polite expression vanished so fast it was as if a towel wiped it away. In its place came a look of such supreme surprise that Dera immediately noticed. In a dreamlike state he moved forward toward the vision in white, the woman whose pale loveliness drew him like a flare lighting the way on the open sea for a lost ship.

“It's you!” he ground out, unable to conceal the delight on his face which anguish quickly replaced when Philippe took the woman's arm and turned her in Daniel's direction.

“My wife,” came Philippe's voice through the fog surrounding Daniel's brain.

Lianne drew her gaze from her husband to rest upon Daniel. For the first time she looked at him, not really aware of his presence until he spoke. Her emerald orbs widened. She hadn't seen this man in almost two years, but he hadn't changed. In her dreams he came to her often, and now he stood before her. Or did he? Was she dreaming? She didn't know.

The room rocked. She felt herself sway and leaned on Philippe's arm for support.

“What is wrong,
chérie
?” Philippe noticed her ashen color.

“I feel faint.” Her voice lowered and Philippe barely heard her. Dera came to Lianne's side and gently led her from him.

“The festivities are too much for her, I fear. I shall take her upstairs to rest for a while.” She turned to her son. “Speak to your wife,” she told him gently, aware that he couldn't take his eyes off Lianne.

“Dera, I really think we should start for Belle Riviere,” Philippe called after her.

“Once Lianne is rested.” She ushered her goddaughter from the room.

Daniel waited in bafflement, unable to function. He had found her! After all his searching, all the inquiries which led to nothing, the woman he loved had shown up in his own parlor. And as Philippe's bride! He raised an eyebrow at Philippe, his envy and disappointment not easy to suppress.

“You're a lucky man,” he told Philippe.

Daniel's brother-in-law shrugged. “I've always had good luck with the women. Lianne is the most beautiful. She is my wife.”

Daniel didn't miss the warning quality in his voice. He wondered how Philippe would react if he knew he had made love to his bride. With a polite nod to Daniel, Philippe went off to seek the companionship of his friends until Lianne felt well enough to travel to Belle Riviere.

Joining Doctor Markham who sat alongside Amelie, Daniel kissed her cheek. “You're looking well, Amelie.”

“No thanks to you!” she snapped.

Daniel sighed. Nothing had changed in his absence. Thaddeus Markham cleared his throat and stood up. “I'll leave you children alone,” he said and wandered away.

After Daniel settled himself beside her, he surveyed the bright flowers which decorated the parlor and reminded him that he had missed Christmas but had arrived in time to see the woman he'd searched for the last year married to Philippe Marchand. He wanted to laugh at the irony. Lianne was now a part of his family.

“That was quite a scene,” Amelie said softly. “My new sister-in-law practically faints when she first sets eyes on you. What is this strange power you have over women, Daniel? I'm certain that in Europe it served you in good stead.”

“Yes, Amelie. It did.” Why lie to her? She was smart enough to know he didn't lead a celibate life. He wondered if she suspected that Lianne was one of the women he had loved.

Her face looked strangely calm. The blue of her eyes glittered and a stray tear coursed down her cheek.

“I shouldn't have been so cruel to you,” he said.

Amelie looked at him. “Now or in the past? I loved you, you know.”

“Both. I cared for you, believe it or not. At least I wanted to love you, but…”

She heaved a sigh and watched as everyone drifted outside to celebrate. “Let's not discuss your reasons for our marriage.”

He clasped her hand. “I'm sorry for everything.”

Her eyes hardened into agates. “Words, Daniel. Just words! You'll never be able to atone for what you've done. I shall never forgive you!” She pulled the rope which hung near her and summoned Claude.

Claude bowed with respect when he entered the room. John had already informed the other servants of Daniel's happy return, but Claude's manner was distant and politely cool. “I wish to go to my room,” Amelie told him.

When Claude bent to lift her, Daniel halted him. “I shall take her upstairs.”

“But, Monsieur Daniel…”

“I thank you for looking after Amelie while I've been away. Now, however, I should take care of her, too.”

“I don't need you. I don't want your help!” Amelie's face boiled red with anger and frustration that Daniel should return and unwittingly pull her away from the man she loved.

Disentangling her arms from Claude's neck, he spoke to her as if she were a child. “I need to do this,” was all he said. Daniel lifted her into his arms and smiled at Claude. “I do thank you, my friend.” He left the room. Amelie turned her head and her large-eyed glance rested on Claude. As Daniel carried her up the wide staircase, Claude watched.

Lallie came into the vestibule and immediately sized up the situation. “The master's home, son. Madame Amelie is his wife, and Monsieur Daniel is your friend.”

Conflicting emotions raged within Claude. He knew Amelie belonged to Daniel, but on a more basic level she was his.

Daniel didn't think anything had changed since he'd been away. He still thought they were friends. Claude clenched his fists, and watched the empty staircase when he heard the door close in Amelie's room.

Lallie shook her head in dismay and left him. Pain washed over him, and rage that Daniel would return home as if the past had never happened. Amelie might decide she preferred her husband to him. But he wouldn't give her up, not even to her own husband.

“You're mine, Amelie,” he whispered. “Mine.”

“Why don't you tell me what the trouble is?” Dera finished placing the cool rag on Lianne's forehead and sat next to her on the bed.

“I felt faint. That's all.”

“Should I ask Tad to take a look at you?”

“I'll be fine. Just a few moments of rest.”

Dera grasped Lianne's thin hand. Her expression was open and earnest. “Did you meet my son in Europe?”

Lianne's eyes closed for a few seconds, then she opened them, barely able to meet Dera's steady stare. She couldn't lie to Dera about Daniel. There was very little about her life she hadn't told her. Except for the horrible incident with de Lovis and the night of passion with Daniel. Though she hadn't known Dera all that long, she realized Dera could read her well. Lying was out of the question.

“Yes,” Lianne said and sighed.

“Do you love him?”

“What we shared was very brief. It doesn't matter. Daniel is married to Amelie and I'm now Philippe's wife.”

“But do you love him?”

“Yes, I think I do.” Lianne's eyes filled with tears. Dera embraced her as if she were a small child and rocked her back and forth.

“Is Désirée my grandchild?” Dera whispered.

Lianne nodded, and Dera extinguished a long sigh. “I knew it! She resembles Daniel. You must tell him he has a daughter. It would make such a difference in his life.”

“No!”

Lianne's vehemence shocked Dera. “Surely he deserves to know.”

Lianne pushed away from her. “Promise me you'll never tell him about her. Everyone, Philippe included, believes she is the child of André Laguens. I don't want her whispered about or ostracized in any way. Philippe wouldn't accept her as his child if word reached his ears. He has trouble accepting her as it is. Philippe isn't overly fond of children.”

“Lianne, I became pregnant with my oldest son and didn't tell Quint. I had my reasons, also, and I thought they were sound ones. But in the end the child brought us together. I wasted years when I could have had the man I wanted, if only I had been honest.”

Lianne's sharp gaze fixed Dera to the spot. “I forbid you to tell Daniel about my child.”

“It won't be easy, but I love you like my own daughter. I won't say a word, just know I'm happy your baby is my grandchild.”

A knock on the door interrupted them. Dera rose and answered it. Daniel stood on the threshold.

“I want to see Lianne, mother.”

Indecision reigned on Dera's face, but Lianne's gentle voice summoned Daniel into the room. At once, Dera left.

Daniel closed the door and locked it. Lianne looked lovely and fragile, propped against the pillows. Auburn tresses escaped the pins holding her hair up and tumbled across her shoulders. The smooth creaminess of her skin tempted him to touch her. But he didn't. He knew if he laid a finger on her, he'd be lost.

“It seems I've found you too late,” he said after a few moments of silent perusal. “Why did you run away that night? For over a year I've searched for you, following up the smallest of leads in the hope I'd find you.”

Tears threatened to spill onto her cheeks. Her eyes were a watery green. “Why did you bother?”

“I fell in love with you. You've been in my heart since that night.”

The tears slipped gently from her eyes. Those were the words she wished to hear. He loved her and thought about her, just as she had thought of him. Now it was too late!

Seeing her pain, he broke his promise to himself and sat on the bed to gather her in his arms. His breath against her ear ruffled the feathery strands of her hair. She smelled sweet like summer roses.

“Do you love Philippe?”

Her arms wound around his neck and brought him closer to her. Though they had been together only once, a silent communication existed between them which not even the time apart could destroy. This wasn't a moment for lies. “No. I belong only to you.”

His eyes brightened, and he touched her cheek. “I can't believe I've found you.”

His lips found hers, drowning her in a sea of tender desire. She clung to him as he pushed her into the mattress, aching for him as she had that night in the summerhouse. His hands moved over her body to caress her breasts, her hips, her thighs. The fact that she still wore her bridal gown and the man loving her wasn't her husband made no difference. She felt wanton and didn't care. She loved Daniel and would go to hell and back to have him.

Her mouth drew away from his and she smiled. “We must tell Philippe and Amelie. My marriage is unconsummated, and I'm certain Amelie will divorce you. Then we can be married.”

Lianne's naiveté stunned him. For all her lush, voluptuous beauty, she possessed an innocence. What sort of dream world had she shared with André Laguens? Hadn't he taught her anything about life beyond the gates of the chateau or that men didn't leave their wives for a pretty face? He wanted Lianne, but he owed Amelie a debt he vowed to repay.

His fingers twirled an auburn curl. “I can't desert Amelie,” he said matter-of-factly.

Pushing him away, she sat up. Her eyes gleamed like emeralds in her oval face. “I've thought of no one but you for months. Am I to be treated like your harlot?”

“No!” He reached for her but she eluded him and rolled to the other side of the bed. She stood up. Splotches of red fury stained her cheeks. “Lianne, you see how Amelie is. I left her once, and I promised myself I'd care for her, make everything up to her after I realized I'd never find you. Please understand.”

“I don't understand. What is my position to be in your life?” she asked.

“I want you as my lover.” He knew he sounded like a cad.

“Your whore, you mean!” Thoughts of de Lovis flickered through her head. “I won't be your mistress. If you can't make me your wife, there is no future for us.”