Emerald Ecstasy (19 page)

“We should bid our guest goodbye, Philippe.”

Philippe nodded to Daniel.
“Adieu,
Daniel. Give our regards to Amelie.”

Daniel rose from his chair. For an instant Lianne noted a flicker of dislike pass across Daniel's face for Philippe. But when he spoke, his voice was steady.

“We should dine together soon.”

“Of course. That would be most pleasant.” Philippe took Lianne's hand and walked her into the foyer, stopping at the staircase. “Now,” he said and his eyes lit upon Lianne's body, not bothering to hide his lust, “you can soap my back,
chérie.”

Before Daniel's glittering gaze, Philippe practically dragged her up the stairs. For one second her face turned toward Daniel in a glance of hopelessness.

The last he saw of her was the lace hem of her petticoat before she disappeared from view.

Philippe's hands encircled the globular fullness of Lianne's breasts and pinched each nipple. His breath fanned hot on the back of her neck as his fingers traced the pathway of her abdomen to the spot between her legs and lingered there.

She sat in front of him, their legs drawn up, against the sides of the tub, and felt powerless to stop him from touching her. After being with Daniel, she viewed Philippe with dread. The constant motion of his hands across her body stirred the bath water. She felt his male hardness against her and knew he was ready for her but wanted a passionate response before he took her. She knew very easily she could fake it, but she was tired of playing games with Philippe, tired of pretending she desired him.

“What's wrong,
chérie?
Aren't I man enough for you?”

“I'm rather tired.”

He sniffed. “You're always tired lately. I've never had trouble pleasuring women before you.”

“I'd just like to go to bed.”

“Then I shall oblige you.”

To her surprise he stood up and yanked her from the water. He stepped out of the tub and picked her up in his arms. “We shall retire together, Lianne. Before this night is over, you shall be tired of having me in you!”

His face looked distorted in the candlelight, and he threw her in the center of the bed, not seeming to care that her wet body shivered from the chill in the air and from fear. He fell on top of her and pinned her hands to the bed.

“You're my wife, and I think it's time you give me my due as your husband. After tonight, you'll never deny me again!”

“I've never done that!” she cried and tried to twist away from him.

“No? Then why is it you don't care for my kisses, my touch? Why is it that when I find you alone with Daniel Flanders your face is crimson and your eyes so bright they could light up the sky?”

“I don't know what you mean.”

His eyes darkened.

“Liar! You want Daniel Flanders to make love to you. Or did you and Daniel make love in the parlor? Was that why you looked so guilty?”

“Philippe, stop this!”

“I noticed your rumpled gown. I'm not someone you can twist around your fingers, Lianne, someone you can take from but give nothing back in return. I'm more of a man than Daniel can ever hope to be. I'll prove it to you.”

Philippe turned her onto her stomach and pulled her upward. Then he entered her body from behind. He filled her with his length and held her roughly against him until he groaned in completion. More than once he took her during the night, not caring or considerate of her pleasure. Afterward, she lay beside him, defeated and shaking; he fell asleep.

When the first light of dawn filtered through the curtains, Lianne was still awake. Philippe woke and dressed and told her he was leaving for New Orleans. Standing over her and peering at her, he said, “Who is more of the man,
chérie?”

When she didn't answer, he grabbed a handful of hair and jerked her to a sitting position. “Who is the man?”

She gazed at him with pain-filled eyes. “You … you are, Philippe.”

Satisfied, he tossed her onto the pillows. “Remember that. Otherwise, I will be forced to rid you of your lover.”

After Philippe's departure, she lay in a stupor. She knew she'd never have a future with Daniel, but she feared Philippe's rages and what he'd do to her and her child, or Daniel, if provoked. Somehow she must convince Philippe that she was content in their marriage, play the faithful wife. But she hugged her pillow to her breasts and sobbed Daniel's name into the downy softness.

A gust of February wind whipped past Lianne's face, but she didn't feel its sting as she urged her horse away from Belle Riviere to the open fields.

Her hair streamed like the sun's rays behind her. Her erect stature in the apricot riding habit branded her the expert horsewoman. When she did halt the horse by the boundary line which separated Belle Riviere from Green Meadows, she looked with longing toward the white house in the distance. An aching sensation filled her. She longed to see Daniel again but knew better than to seek him out.

Philippe had been gone nearly three days, and a part of her hoped he'd never return. Yet she must somehow try to appease Philippe, to make him forget his suspicions about Daniel.

She knew she must forget Daniel, must stop yearning for his touch, his kisses. A future with Daniel wasn't possible, and she didn't want to become his mistress.

Turning the horse for home, she cantered slowly back. When she entered the house a maid informed her she had company.

She began to remove her gloves but stopped as she entered the parlor to find Dera with Daniel. Dera rose from the sofa, a pleasant smile on her face as she kissed Lianne.

“How good to see you, dear. You've become such a stranger to Green Meadows lately that I decided to visit you, and Daniel insisted he come along.”

Lianne forced a welcoming smile. They chatted for a few minutes. Lianne barely glanced at Daniel but she felt his penetrating gaze upon her until the sheer intensity of his eyes forced her to look his way. He only stared at her, assessing her. She fiddled with a button on the cuff of her jacket.

“Would you like to see Désirée?” she asked Dera.

“I thought you'd never ask!” Dera immediately left the room.

The silence thickened between Lianne and Daniel.

“You didn't ask me if I wanted to visit your daughter,” he said.

“I hadn't realized you would. You may go upstairs.”

He shook his head. “I'll see her later. Right now, I'd rather speak to her mother.”

The abrasive quality in his voice caused her to jump. “We have nothing to say to one another.” Rising from her seat, he jumped up and grabbed her arm before she could make a hasty retreat upstairs.

Turning her to him, his sharp glance cut through her. “Am I mistaken or didn't we nearly make love in this room only a few days ago? I could have sworn the soft, yielding body beneath me belonged to you.”

“Daniel, let me go. Please. There can be nothing between us. You should realize that.”

He groaned as if she had touched a nerve. “Our child is between us, Lianne. Désirée is a bond which can never be broken. Admit to me she's mine.”

“She isn't yours.”

Her mouth trembled when he brushed a tan finger across it. “Deny it all you want. I know the truth. Now, admit it to yourself. Tell me you want to leave Philippe. I'll take you and our daughter away from here. Just say the word.”

She blinked in disbelief, then refocused her gaze. “Where would you hide us, Daniel? And even if Philippe agreed to divorce me, what would become of me? I shall not be your mistress!”

Twisting away, she broke his hold. For a moment he studied her intently, as if memorizing her features. Then he jabbed his hands into the pockets of his pants. “I can't offer you anything more, Lianne. I have a lot to make up to Amelie.”

She closed her eyes. When she opened them, she took a deep breath and noticed his expression was tight with strain. “You've made your choice. I have made mine.”

He extinguished a low sigh. “We're both fools.”

A bittersweet smile touched her lips. “No, Daniel, but fate has decreed the course of our lives.”

Before he went upstairs, his glacial gaze froze her to the spot. “Somehow, someway, Lianne, we'll be together. Perhaps not in the way you wish, but it will happen. I'll make it happen.”

His words brought a sob to her lips because she didn't believe him.

The next morning Lianne entered the nursery, dressed in a traveling gown of the finest mauve velvet. A matching bonnet covered her auburn tresses, and as she kissed Désirée in farewell, she was aware of the disapproval on Maria's plump face.

“Don't say anything to try and dissuade me from my visit to New Orleans. Philippe hasn't sent a dressmaker, and the
bal masque
is barely two weeks away. I must have something presentable to wear.”

“Will you stay with Monsieur Philippe?”

“He is my husband and has rooms on the Esplanade. I think I shall surprise him.”

Maria sniffed. “You'll be the one surprised, Lianne. The monsieur told you not to go into town. Why do you disobey him? You know how awful his temper is.”

Lianne knew very well how Philippe showed his temper. However, for better or worse, he was her husband. Perhaps if she tried to love him, things might work out. The man had honored her with his name, had turned over the running of Belle Riviere to her, and was kind to her child. She owed him a great deal. Since Daniel could offer her no better, she decided she must try and make the best life she could with Philippe.

“Philippe is volatile, that's all,” Lianne said to Maria and tried to believe he'd never hurt her again.

“Señora Dera fears for you. She will not tell you this, but she worries that your husband might do you or the child great harm.”

Lianne stopped playing with Désirée momentarily. “Did you discuss my personal life with Dera?”

Maria folded a blanket and looked downward.

“Well, did you?” Lianne queried again.

Raising her head, defiance in her eyes, Maria nodded. “I wanted Señora Dera to know about how the monsieur abused you.”

“You had no right, Maria, no matter how pure your intentions. I resent your interfering. Now what happens if Dera tells Daniel and…”

Maria halted Lianne's words with a hand on her arm. “Daniel Flanders isn't your husband. Why should you care about what he might do?”

Lianne hated the knowing look in the woman's dark eyes. Maria always seemed able to see into her soul.

“Because I don't want Philippe's wrath to touch him. Philippe will harm Daniel if he thinks I love him. So, I must pretend to care for my husband. I wouldn't be able to live with the guilt if something happened to Daniel because of me.”

“Stay home. Don't go into New Orleans,” Maria voiced again.

“I must. I have to prove to Philippe that I desire him. Maybe everything will be all right if I convince him I wasn't unfaithful.”

Lianne turned and left the nursery. In the hall she ordered a servant to take her valise to the waiting carriage, then she rode to New Orleans.

Shortly before dusk, the carriage pulled in front of the elegantly furnished apartments Philippe rented while in the city. Lianne missed the small house she had lived in before her marriage and knew it stood empty, just waiting for her. But she convinced herself that the lavish rooms were more to Philippe's taste.

When she knocked on his door, she expected a gasp of surprise but the furious blue eyes which met her caused her to tremble.

“I told you not to leave Belle Riviere! What in the name of heaven are you doing in the city?”

“Visiting you, Philippe,” she managed to say without stuttering.

“Get inside!” he bellowed and yanked her into the foyer. The immaculately polished Italian marble floors, the ornate balcony which led to the equally sumptuous bedroom and the golden sconces with flickering candles, were barely perceived by Lianne. All she concentrated on was the distorted, rage-filled face of her husband.

“Philippe, I thought you might be pleased to see me, would like some company.”

“I'd like it better if you stayed at Belle Riviere where you belong.” He strode into the drawing room and poured a hefty glass of bourbon. “Do you enjoy making me angry, Lianne?” he asked after drinking it in one gulp.

“No, Philippe. I don't mean to upset you.”

Something in the childlike way she stood against the wall with saucer-shaped eyes touched a chord in him. He loved Lianne and regretted hurting her, but he didn't want her in the city. Suppose she decided to take up her old life again and sing with the opera? He'd lose her. But worse than that was the thought she might discover his secret family. She'd never accept his quadroon mistress and Jean Marc. He liked to think Lianne desired Daniel to ease his guilt. But he nearly broke out into a cold sweat imagining what might happen if she discovered his darkest secret—Honorine.