Emerald Ecstasy (14 page)

He jumped from the bed and in a single motion ensnared her trembling body in his arms. Her beautiful eyes shot their green fire. He held her against him until she stopped struggling. “I do love you, no matter what you think.” He murmured her name with real anguish in his voice, “I must know you love me.”

How could she not love him? Daniel Flanders was handsome, masculine, and in love with her. But he wouldn't leave Amelie. She nearly laughed at her situation. Not an hour before she had married Amelie's brother, and if Daniel had told her to pack her bags and leave with him, she would have forgotten poor Philippe. She remembered she had a child, Daniel's child. She hadn't wanted Dera to tell him about Désirée. Now she felt relief she had extracted the promise from Dera.

Daniel would never be free. She convinced herself she had made a wise decision by marrying Philippe, providing her child with a father. There was no future with Daniel.

Taking a deep breath, she gazed into the depths of his eyes. “I am Philippe's wife now, and I shall remain so.”

“You're more of a whore by giving yourself in marriage to Philippe, a man you don't love, than if you belonged to me,” he said.

Her hand flew from the folds of her wedding gown and slapped his cheek. “Never call me such a name again! I shall never belong to you now, Daniel!”

A knock on the door pulled them apart. “Are you feeling better, Lianne?” came Philippe's voice. “We must leave for Belle Riviere.” He tried the knob. “Will you let me in,
chérie?”

“Allow me time to arrange my hair,” she called.

“Why bother,
chérie?
In a little while you shall be disarranged.” His laugh filtered through the door panel.

Lianne blushed. “Let me go,” she whispered to Daniel who still held her arm.

“Kiss me first.”

Her eyes widened. “No.”

“Kiss me. Prove to me you don't want me, that you want to go with Philippe, that you choose him over me. Prove to me that you don't belong to me, that you don't desire my touch.”

She twisted but he held her tighter. Tears of rage, pain and humiliation sprang to her eyes. Philippe tapped on the door. Daniel's eyes glittered with challenge, tempting her to prove him right.

Suddenly she threw herself against him. Her lips met his in a fiery collision of thwarted passion, but when his arms would have snaked around her waist, she pushed away, her voice a harsh whisper.

“I admit I want you, Daniel, but I'm Philippe's wife. As long as you're married to Amelie, there is no future for us. I won't turn away from my husband this night or in the nights to come. Before you fall asleep tonight, Daniel, think of me in my husband's arms.”

She couldn't have hurt him more if she had stuck a dagger through his heart. He watched as she ran to the door and opened it enough to nimbly squeeze through the opening. He heard her laugh, heard the sound of Philippe's kiss upon her lips. The sound of their footsteps on the landing drifted away.

He had lost her again.

Amelie fumed in her room. Never one to react silently to aggravation, she threw the bed pillows at the wall and yanked the violet ribbon from her hair. She feared being heard if she stormed about the room, so she sat by the dressing table and pushed the expensive glass perfume bottles onto the floor.

“The nerve of him!” she hissed to herself. How dare Daniel return from his European trollops and act the concerned husband. If he had shown her kindness before he left, she might have been able to forgive him. Now it was too late, and she'd be damned if she'd pretend affection for him.

Lallie waddled into the room, picked up the bottles and pulled out a nightgown. Age showed on Lallie's face and she moved slowly. Amelie became irritated and snapped, “Do hurry!” The room was drafty as she sat on the stool so Lallie could remove her stockings. She wanted to do it herself, to jump up and put on her own gown, but Amelie was on her guard. She mustn't give away her shared secret with Claude. No one but he would ever know she could walk.

“I'm sorry, Madam Amelie. My old bones ache in this chill.”

“Then have Claude light the fireplace.”

“Yes, ma'am. I'll do that.” Lallie's eyes narrowed. “You and Claude been spending a lot of time together.”

“He's my slave.”

“Even the nights?”

If Lallie hadn't been Claude's mother, Amelie would have slapped her senseless. “I don't know what you mean, Lallie.”

“Hmmph! Yes, you do. My boy's bothered by you. I don't know what you both do alone in here under the blankets, but I don't want him hurt. Your husband is home now, so I guess Claude's visits to you will stop.”

Amelie gave a fluty laugh. “Dear Lallie, you do have a vivid imagination and are quite amusing but if I didn't need you to tend to me, I'd advise Daniel to sell you for your nasty tongue.”

Amelie swore Lallie's face drained of all color. “You wouldn't do that to me, would you, Madam Amelie?”

The woman's fright was obvious, and Amelie relished it for a moment. However, she wasn't a truly cruel person, so she quickly put Lallie's mind at ease. “No, but don't spread such horrible tales about the house. One day I shall be mistress of Green Meadows, and I might just remember your lies.”

“Yes, madam.” Lallie fumbled with the hooks on the back of Amelie's gown. When she finished removing the dress and it was replaced by a white, lacy nightgown, Lallie told Amelie she'd order Claude to light the fire.

As Lallie opened the door, Daniel was just about to knock.

“Is my wife ready for bed?” he asked her.

“Yes, Mr. Daniel. Go in.”

Daniel waited inside the doorway. He wore a dressing gown of such a deep blue velvet it was almost black. Amelie couldn't help but realize how handsome he looked. She had given him the dressing gown on their first wedding anniversary, choosing the color because she thought it would complement his eyes.

He walked toward her. “You look lovely,” he told her and admired her hair which gleamed like golden nuggets in the candlelight. Amelie looked very beautiful and childlike in the pristine gown.

Her eyes narrowed speculatively. “Such pretty words will make me blush.” Why was he being so nice to her?

His hand brushed against her cheek. “You deserve that and more. I've been a beast to you, and I know it.” He smiled.

“Such a change has come over you, dear husband, that I can't quite realize you're the same man who was once so cruel to me.” His hand continued to stroke her cheek, and she suppressed a shiver. She didn't like the look in his eyes. If he had looked at her like that before the accident, she'd have melted in his arms. Now, she didn't want him. She wanted Claude. Only Claude.

“Let me carry you to bed,” Daniel said and picked her up. “You weigh as little as a feather.” He placed her in the center of her bed and covered her with the sheet. Sitting beside her, he took her hand. Amelie was lovely. He did want to care for her, to let her know he had changed. But the changes in him had happened because of another woman, a woman who now bedded with her bridegroom. If only…

Amelie's voice stirred him from his reverie. “Why are you being so solicitous, Daniel? As I recall if I so much as touched you, you'd cringe.”

He held her chin in his hand. “I told you already. I want to make things up to you. I want your forgiveness.”

“If that's all you want, then I'll endeavor to forget the past. But…”

“Yes?”

“I'm still a cripple, Daniel. Your sudden ardor is misplaced. I suggest if you have physical needs, you go find a slave girl or ride into New Orleans. I'm certain some tart will satisfy your cravings.”

She spoke with such seriousness that he laughed aloud and came to his senses. By law he could force himself on Amelie while he pleasured himself. She was his wife. Yet, she was doomed to lead a limited life because of him. Certainly there wouldn't be any pleasure in the act for her, so in the end, it would mean less than nothing.

“I see nothing humorous,” she said in a huff.

“But I do. You've put everything in perspective.” He bent and kissed her as Claude peered at them from the doorway, carrying firewood.

“Monsieur Daniel.”

Daniel drew away from Amelie, not missing how she flushed under Claude's steady stare. “What is it, Claude?”

“Madam wished the fire lit.”

“Then madam shall have it.” He started to take the wood from Claude.

“Let Claude do it!” Amelie's panicked tone caused Daniel to raise an eyebrow.

“As you wish.” Daniel made conversation with Claude as the slave tossed the wood in the fireplace and lit it. “We should fish and hunt soon, Claude. Just like we did as boys.”

Claude wiped his sweaty palms on his pants when he stood up. The fire blazed and warmed the room. “Yes,” was his only comment. He withdrew from the room when Daniel wished him a good night, but Amelie didn't miss the way a muscle twitched in Claude's jaw.

“Claude doesn't seem too pleased to see me.” Daniel folded his arms across his chest and leaned against the mantel. “Do you and Claude get along well? If not, I'll have someone else take you downstairs in the mornings. In fact, I'll do it.”

“No, I want Claude,” she said much too quickly. “I mean,” she swallowed hard, not liking his penetrating gaze, “he knows how to please me.”

“Does he?” A suspicious note crept into his tone. “I think Claude sticks to himself too much. He needs a wife.”

Amelie paled but managed a smile. What would she do if Claude grew tired of her and married? She'd die. “He appears quite content. Daniel, I'm really very tired. The wedding was long, and your homecoming has just worn me out. I should like to sleep.”

“Of course. Forgive my thoughtlessness.” He bent and kissed her again and left the room, closing the door softly behind him.

When she heard the door close to his room, she scampered from the bed and turned the lock on her own door. Then she went to the door which separated her room from Claude's. She found him reclining on the bed, but when she entered he didn't look at her.

“Claude?”

“Your husband is home, Amelie. You must wait for him, do his bidding.”

“I do only yours.” She lay beside him, her hands and mouth touched and kissed his bare chest.

He groaned and grabbed a handful of her hair, hurting her and exciting her at the same time. Rolling on top of her, he pinned her to the mattress.

“Tell me you love me. Tell me I'm the man you want in your bed.”

“Claude, you know that already.”

“I want to hear it from you.”

She pulled him to her, her hands trailing against the dusty skin. “I love you and want only you in my bed, Claude.” She kissed him and instantly he was aroused, unable to restrain his passion. He didn't care if Daniel was down the hall, he'd have taken Amelie in the parlor with the whole household in attendance.

“Let's go back to my room where it's warm,” she whispered against his lips.

Claude shook his head. “No, my lovely. I shall make love to you in my bed tonight. My passion shall warm you.”

And it did.

The ride to Belle Riviere passed more quickly than Lianne would have wished. She needed time to sort through her feelings, but they swirled around her like leaves before a hurricane. She was scarcely able to think. The last few hours had numbed her. All she saw in her mind's eye was Daniel's stricken look when she left the bedroom.

“Chérie,
your hands are as cold as a winter's frost.” Philippe's voice pulled her mind from the image of Daniel's face. “I hope you shall not become ill.” His hands enfolded both of hers and he rubbed them between his palms. “We must keep you well.”

She managed a grateful smile. “I'm very lucky you love me.”

“I am the one who is fortunate. From the first moment I saw you astride your horse the day we met, I knew I wanted you for my wife.”

Her gaze wandered over the features of his face and stopped to rest at his eyes, so blue and warm. “Shall we be happy, Philippe? Really happy?”

“Certainly. How can we not?”

He smiled down at her and kissed her mouth which at first refused to open, then softened under the urgency of his lips. When he drew away, he sighed. “We shall indeed be happy.”

She hoped so. Until Daniel entered her life again, she had thought Philippe was the answer to her loneliness and would make her dreams of a perfect love become reality. Now, she was Madame Philippe Marchand and on her way to her new home, and to her husband's bed. Her dreams had come true. Why didn't she feel the happiness which shone on Philippe's face?

The carriage wound its way up the drive, and later she and Philippe drank glasses of wine in the parlor to celebrate their marriage. When Philippe kissed her again, she shivered not from cold but from dread. How different this night would be from the night with Daniel!