Love's Fiery Jewel (48 page)

Touched by his concern, which she sensed went past
the limits of duty to a sincere affection, Amethyst smiled
a warm, "Thank you, Arthur," before turning to enter
the store.

Nodding a short greeting to the proprietor, Amethyst
moved quickly to the selection of tunebooks, her fingers
moving efficiently through the stack in an effort to find
any new selections available, but she was disappointed.
The shop was stuffy, her cape too heavy for the warming
May day, and Amethyst adjusted the closure. She still
had not gained the courage to show herself completely in
public in her obvious condition. Telling herself that her
blossoming figure was indiscernible within the folds of
her cape, she had managed to shop with a minimum of
self-consciousness, but she was aware that the time was
fast approaching when she would either have to sport her
condition openly or spend the remainder of her
pregnancy in hiding. But she would face that problem
another day. For today she would bear discomfort for the
sake of pride.

But for all her good intentions, Amethyst had only
been in the rear of the store for a few minutes when her
discomfort became so acute that she could no longer bear
the weight of the cape against her shoulders. A furtive
glance in the general area showed her to be hidden behind
the bookshelves and quickly shedding her cape, Amethyst resumed her rapt perusal of the titles available. If
she did not have any success here, she had tentatively
decided to visit another Philadelphia dealer, Robert Aitken, whom she had heard was handling the tunebooks
of the singing master, Andrew Law, for his school on
Chestnut Street. At any rate, she...

"Amethyst."

The deep, lightly accented voice of Armand Beauchamps startled Amethyst from her thoughts, bringing a
flush of pleasure to her countenance as her head snapped
up to his darkly handsome face.

"Armand!" Reaching out spontaneously, she continued with obvious sincerity, "Oh, I'm so happy to see
you again, Armand. I so regretted the violent conclusion
of our last meeting. I can only apologize for Damien's
actions..."

"Cela suffit, ma cherie. That night is in the past and
better forgotten. I hold no ill feelings toward Monsieur
Straith for his actions, for had I been he, I fear my
reaction would have been similar. You are obviously very
dear to him..."

"Damien is very possessive, Armand, but it is his own
nature that stimulates this quality rather than his
particular feelings for me."

His dark eyes assessing, Armand responded thoughtfully, "I think you misjudge Monsieur Straith, but at any
rate, this discussion was not the reason for my
appearance here today. Rather, I came to ascertain if you
are well and happy, for I knew little peace..."

Startled, Amethyst interrupted thoughtlessly, "But
how did you know I would be here, Armand?"

"I have been away on business in New York for the
past two months, cherie, but you have not been far from
my thoughts during that time. I must confess to trying
several desperate means of purging you from my mind,
all of which were ineffective once my mind was again
clear and able to function rationally. It is ironic, is it not,
cherie, that while I have loved many women with my
body, I have loved none of them with my heart. And now that I find the one with whom I can find total fulfillment,
she belongs to another..."

"Armand..." Her eyes misting lightly, Amethyst
could do no more than raise her glance wordlessly to his,
inadvertently fanning the desire Armand struggled so
desperately to overcome. Taking the small hand raised
tentatively in his direction, Armand raised it to his lips,
the smoothness of her skin sending a wave of frustrated
pain through his body. Turning the palm to his lips, he
kissed it tenderly, lingeringly, his gaze moving to her
vulnerable mouth as he exerted a supreme effort at
control.

"Ali, cherie," Armand's deep voice was husky, "you
do not know what you do to me with your eyes like purple
violets drawing me ever closer to you..." Still holding
fast to her hand, Armand reached out to run a tentative
caress along the black shining curls, his hand slipping to
her narrow shoulder in a quick caress.

Suddenly conscious of her appearance, Amethyst's
hand moved to her stomach in a futile effort to hide the
small roundness, her eyes dropping from his with
embarrassment.

Within moments Armand's hand was on her chin,
raising it so she again met his eyes. "Cherie, there is no
need for this discomfort between us. I do not know the
circumstances which resulted in your carrying Monsieur
Straith's child, and I do not wish to know. My only wish
is to determine that you are safe and well treated. Now
that I have seen you, I can rest, knowing that you did not
suffer unduly by my foolish actions the night of the
ball."

"No, Armand. Damien has been very kind."

"But he has not yet married you, cherie. Does he
intend to allow..."

"Please, Armand!" Her expression distraught, Ame thyst interrupted softly, "I don't wish to discuss this
matter."

His expression concerned, Armand said softly, "Ma
petite, if I am able to help you in any way, please tell me.
If it is your desire, I will take you away from this city
today and keep you safely with me."

A sudden picture of William's fevered face flashing
before her eyes, Amethyst gasped abruptly, "No! I...I
could not. Such a step would be disastrous for both of us,
and I have no desire to disrupt any more lives, Armand."

His expression tightening, Armand hesitated briefly
before responding. "Surely, Amethyst, ma cherie, you do
not believe I fear for myself because of the manner in
which our last meeting ended, for I assure you..."

Raising her hand spontaneously to Armand's lips,
Amethyst silenced his response. "Armand, please, say no
more. There is no doubt in my mind as to your bravery or
integrity, and I need no reassurance."

The touch of her fingers against his lips caused
Armand to flinch, and not fully understanding his
reaction, Amethyst withdrew her hand. "I must go now,
Armand. Arthur is waiting outside and must have seen
you enter. He will tell Damien..."

"He did not see me enter, ma petite, because I have
been here waiting for you for the past hour."

"But how did you know..."

"I have made it my business to be kept aware of your
activities, cherie. You usually come to Monsieur Bell's
establishment on Tuesdays, do you not? In any case, it
was worth the chance because I could no longer suffer
my doubts about your welfare." Hesitating briefly,
Armand allowed his eyes to roam freely over Amethyst,
his intense perusal bringing a bright flush to her face as
he appeared to memorize each detail of her appearance,
his eyes lingering for a few brief moments on her protruding stomach before returning to meet her eyes.
His expression tight, he said softly, "I envy Monsieur
Straith, Amethyst. I envy him the child you carry and his
hold on you. And I curse the fate that brought you to me
when it was already too late to make you mine."

Her eyes misting at the suspicious brightness in
Armand's intense glance, Amethyst's voice was a husky
whisper, "It is a cruel fate, is it not, Armand...?"

Suddenly stepping forward, Armand took her unexpectedly into his arms, his mouth moving to cover her
appealing lips. His arms tightening convulsively around
her, Armand held her breathlessly tight, his searching
mouth separating her lips for a brief, brilliant taste of the
sweetness forbidden him. He was trembling visibly as he
withdrew, his face tortured as he whispered shakily,
"This will do neither of us any good, cherie, and unless
you will come with me now, I must leave you before I am
past control." Noting the manner in which Amethyst's
eyes dropped from his glance, he whispered softly, "Je
comprends, ma cherie."

Waiting until her eyes again met his, Armand
continued, "But if you should ever need me, at any time,
send word to my office. They will contact me and I will
come to you." Taking her cape from the chair on which it
lay, Armand slipped it over her shoulders.

"Au revoir, mon amour..."

His dark eyes following her as Amethyst made her way
toward the front of the store, Armand whispered beneath
his breath, "Au revoir, mon coeur.. .mon vie..."

Staring absentmindedly at the passing scenery as the
carriage moved into the outskirts of Philadelphia,
Amethyst dabbed lightly at her forehead with a small,
lace-trimmed handkerchief. It was a ghastly hot and
humid day, which Amethyst was beginning to learn was
commonplace for the month of June in Philadelphia.

That reason alone was her strongest motive in finally
relenting to join Hiram and Millicent Strathmore on the
picnic they had arranged in a wooded spot outside the
city. Extremely self-conscious of her burgeoning figure,
she had all but retired from the public eye, passing her
day in the confines of Damien's home. Having made good
use of her time in the months previous, Amethyst had a
good store of music and reading material on hand with
which to fill her days, and had accumulated a fascinating
array of tiny baby clothes which held a place of honor in a
velvet-lined leather chest Damien had presented to her
the month before.

Suddenly sensing someone's gaze upon her, Amethyst
glanced to the seat beside her. His coat lying across from
him in deference to the heat of the day, Damien sat
casually in his shirtsleeves, the collar unbuttoned to
almost mid-chest, exposing a portion of the fine mat of
brown and gold hairs covering the broad expanse, and the
wide column of his throat. He was studying her
pensively, his strong, lightly tanned face unsmiling, his
chin firm and unrelenting. A lock of heavy tawny hair
had slipped to his forehead, and brushing it casually
aside, he continued his perusal, a small smile lifting the
corners of his generous lips to expose a trace of even,
white teeth in bold contrast to sun-darkened skin. The
very size of him, his broad expanse of shoulder, the
strong arms and well muscled thigh lightly touching hers
was overpowering within the limited space of the
carriage, completely masculine and sensual. To her own
disgust she realized she was still susceptible to the heat of
his glance, her heart beginning to race as the cool, clear
eyes moved over her face to settle for a few brief seconds
on her parted lips.

Feeling a familiar dryness in her throat as Damien's
head bent slowly toward her to cover her tempting lips
with his own, Amethyst closed her eyes against the thrill of their touch, wishing with a futile desperation that she
had the will to resist him.

His mouth finally drawing away from hers, Damien
curved his hand around her cheek.

"You look beautiful today, darling. You're more
beautiful every day."

Shooting a quick glance to the extended rise of her
stomach, Amethyst scoffed lightly, "Impossible!"

Giving a small grunt of amusement, Damien allowed
his hand to rest against the sizable protrusion, his grin
growing as the child beneath stirred restlessly.

"My son does not realize the very elegant quarters he
presently occupies."

A small smile her only response, Amethyst returned
her attention to the passing scenery, content to allow her
mind to wander for the duration of the journey.

Unwilling to withdraw his eyes from her person,
Damien allowed them the luxury of moving slowly over
Amethyst's appealing presence. Still slender as a reed
except for the obvious rounding that preceded her,
Amethyst was a ray of sunshine in her bright yellow
gown, the graceful rise of her shoulders and neck, and the
high delicate cheekbones displayed to greatest advantage
by the upswept coiffure she had adopted for the humid
summer days. An ample amount of bosom swelled atop
the daring decolletage, the soft, white flesh tempting him
unmercifully as it bobbed to the jolting movement of the
carriage. Amused at his own reaction, Damien could not
suppress the smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
This young woman need do nothing more than sit beside
him to stir his desire. Who would have believed that
Damien Straith would find a woman six months gone
with child so fascinating that he could not tear his eyes
from her? But this was not just any child... this was his
child. And this was not just any woman... this was
Amethyst. And soon she would be his wife. She had resisted him long and hard, refusing to relent to his
demands that they marry, but when the child was born,
she would no longer hold out against him. She would not
allow their son to be called bastard, and by that time she
would be secure in his love. For certainly he had done
everything possible to demonstrate his love for her...
everything short of saying the words. But he knew
instinctively a small core of resentment remained,
making him hesitant to speak the words his mind shouted
over and over again..."I love you, Amethyst, my
darling." Far better that he prove his love, a day at a time,
until her resistance deteriorated and disappeared completely.

But was there ever hair more black and shining than
Amethyst's, or curls that danced more gracefully even
when confined in that upswept position? And were there
eyes more lavender, more compelling than hers, with
lashes so long that they almost touched her brow? And
her skin.. .white and flawless; her nose, short and
straight, the line perfect; the fleeting dimple in her
cheek; and her mouth.. .Lord, the sweetness of
it...the glory deep enough to drown within it; and the
delicate grace of her body.. .the sweet comfort as it
welcomed him, took him in. With delight he watched the
gradual widening of her proportions, knowing she kept
his child safe within her while he grew and prepared to
make his entrance into the world. God, he loved
her... had all he could do to keep from taking her into
his arms here and now and proving in the way he knew
best just how much she really meant to him. The mere
thought causing his body to swell uncomfortably,
Damien attempted to adjust his position, his squirming
causing Amethyst to turn an inquiring glance in his
direction. The tight fawn britches did little to disguise his
momentary distress, and almost immediately discerning
the reason for his movement, a deep flush covered Amethyst's face as she gasped softly, "Damien!"