Love's Fiery Jewel (60 page)

A pleased smile slipping over his face, Charles Peale
advanced in her direction, his hand outstretched in
greeting. Suddenly snatching it away again, his pale face
flushed as he apologized profusely. "I'm exceedingly
happy to see you have been able to come to view my work,
Miss Greer, but I must apologize for my paint-smeared
hands that will not allow me to greet you properly."

"It is my pleasure to come, Mr. Peale." Her sparkling lavender eyes mirroring her enthusiasm, Amethyst
smiled in return. "Armand has told me so much about
your work, and I'm very anxious to view your marvelous
transparencies at close range."

Obviously flattered by her interest, Charles Peale
replied with equal enthusiasm, "Then you must follow
me to the corner where I've made a rough model of the
design on which I am now working."

Drawing her with him, Peale proudly displayed a
miniature edifice consisting of three arches. "You see
before you a small reproduction of the grand edifice that
will stretch fifty feet across Market Street when it is
completed. The structure will consist of three hollow
arches, the center one being thirty-five feet high,
independent of the surmounting statuary. Outside, the
arches will be covered with the transparencies and
mottos on which I am presently working. Inside will be
positioned over 1200 lamps to illuminate the transparencies, and a network of ladders and platforms from which
various mechanical devices will be manipulated by
technicians. The construction of the actual framework is
assigned to a group of carpenters, while my apprentice,
Billy Mercer," turning, Peale indicated a young deaf
mute standing nearby, "and I will endeavor to supply the
artistic touches."

Much impressed by the small model, Amethyst
prompted eagerly, "And how will this structure be
positioned, Mr. Peale?"

"As you know, my dear," the gentleman began patiently, "the celebration is scheduled to begin at twilight
on the twenty-second. A route will be published in the
newspapers, and citizens will march down Market Street,
carriages passing through the center arch, and pedestrians passing through the side arches. Atop a wellsituated house I shall place a figure of Peace, rigged so as
to suddenly appear and descend along a rope to the top of the arch. Here the Peace figure will ignite a central fuse,
touching off the thousand lamps within a minute. As the
arch and its paintings begin to glow colorfully, there will
be a huge burst of fireworks from the top of the arch,
opening the celebration!"

Gasping with delight as her mind followed the colorful
description to its glorious climax, Amethyst clasped her
hands together in rapt mental enjoyment of the scene.
"How marvelous to have conceived such a brilliant idea,
Mr. Peale!"

His face flushing lightly at her enthusiastic praise,
Peale eased her slowly along the line of completed
transparencies. Patiently guiding her, he pointed out the
representations of the French King, of various war
heroes, of the different States and of the arts and
sciences, as well as a "Pyramidal Cenotaph" with the
names of fallen soldiers, a tree with thirteen fruitful
branches, and a picture of Indians building churches in
the wilderness. Drawing her attention to the remarkable
transparency rendering Washington as Cincinnatus
returning to his plough, Peale explained the motto
inscribed below, VICTRIX VIRTUS, as meaning "Victorious Virtue."

"The central arch," Peale continued fervently, "will
be crowned with a Temple of Janus, shut to represent the
close of the war, its motto echoing our new sealNUMINE FAVENTE MAGNUS AB INTEGRO SAECULORUM NASSITUR ORDO-'By divine favor, a great
and new order of the ages commences'"

Speechless at the magnificence displayed so casually
before her, Amethyst spent the following hour in rapt
attention to the artist's detailed narration. Her eyes
suddenly catching a glimpse of a small clock standing
unobtrusively on a nearby table, Amethyst gasped
audibly, "Oh, good heavens! It's fifteen minutes past the
hour of twelve! I was to meet Monsieur Beauchamps outside at 12! 1 must leave, Mr. Peale, but not before I
extend my deep appreciation for this short glimpse of the
extravagant beauty you have created." Her expression
obviously sincere, she continued quietly, "I do feel
extremely honored to have been allowed a preview of
your brilliant work."

Obviously charmed by her sincerity, completely
forgetting his paint-smeared hands, Charles Peale took
the delicate hand extended toward him, raising it to his
lips in a gallant gesture not anticipated in the shy, slender
family man, "The pleasure has indeed been mine, Miss
Greer."

Taking her leave, the glow of enthusiasm still lighting
her lovely countenance, Amethyst hastened down the
corridor toward the front entrance to the State House.
Abruptly aware as she turned a corner that Tillie was not
at her side, she turned again to dart an impatient glance
behind her. Maintaining the steady pace that was her
norm, Tillie trailed a short distance behind, and realizing
the futility of urging haste, Amethyst continued forward,
her small delicate frame colliding heavily with a tall,
unmoving figure that stood before her.

Embarrassed at her clumsiness, Amethyst raised
apologetic eyes, only to have her glance meet and hold a
familiar transparent gaze. Her heart thudding heavily in
her breast, Amethyst gasped. "Damien!" Pulling free of
the strong arms that steadied her, Amethyst heard a
startled gasp echoing behind her as Tillie turned the
corner. Turning to Tillie's incredulous expression,
Amethyst followed her gaze past Damien to the man who
stood behind him. Fashionably dressed, a tall Negro held
Tillie's eyes with his, his stoic expression flickering only
once as Tillie whispered unbelievingly, "Raymond...
Raymond..."

"Raymond?" Her glance darting back to Damien's
smug expression, she listened as Damien smoothly answered her unspoken question. "Yes, Raymond. It is
unfortunate you left the island with such haste,
Amethyst. And unfortunate for both you and Tillie that
you have taken up residence with your `friend,' Armand
Beauchamps. But, of course, I would expect having
planned to have me imprisoned, you would feel I was
adequately out of the way for quite some time. But I have
surprised you, have I not, Amethyst?"

Sensing the heat of hatred burning behind his cool
facade, Amethyst trembled wildly. Fear at his obvious
anger, and happiness to see him safe and well, battled
vigorously inside her, fear gaining the stronger hold as
Damien's fury became more apparent.

His cool facade slipping immeasurably, Damien's
facial muscles became taut, his full sensuous mouth
twisting into a tight line as he hissed venomously, "Did it
give you pleasure to plan your escape with William
Sheridan, Amethyst? I must say you played your part
well, darling, the loving mistress to the end, finally
succumbing with convincing poignancy to my pressures
to make you my wife. I must admit I was not in the least
suspicious of you, my dear. Fool that I was, I was
convinced you intended to go through with the
marriage..." His words choking off, Damien finished
the statement in his mind, "...and fool that I was, I
ached with despair at the threat necessary to make you
agree to become my wife." Despising himself with the
realization that even as he spewed forth his heated
grievances against her, he longed to take the slight figure
into his arms, to hold her tight against him until he was
truly certain that she was not merely another image his
tortured brain had conceived; to feel those soft,
appealing lips under his again; to taste the incredible
sweetness within. Clenching his fists against the almost
overpowering urge, Damien continued aloud, "But I'm
free, Amethyst, and I've returned to Philadelphia. I must admit I was not pleased to find you had found another
protector so quickly, but I suppose Armand Beauchamps
was part of your plan from the first." Jealousy twisting
his stomach into knots even as he spoke, Damien
continued hoarsely, "You are a consummate actress,
Amethyst. I shall have to remember that when dealing
with you in the future."

Her face pale, Amethyst responded with a shaky
confidence, "You need not worry about dealing with me
in the future, Damien. I am free of you now, and I will
reiftain free of you."

His eyes a clear gray ice, Damien replied confidently,
"You will return to me, Amethyst."

"I shall not! I shall never return to you, Damien!
Marian will not grow up under the influence of your
black magic, and I will not live the rest of my life in its
shadow!"

His anger deepening, Damien said in a low, ominous
voice, "You will do, and you will live, just exactly as I
say!

"You are very wrong, Monsieur Straith!" A deep,
angry voice from behind turned all glances in his
direction as Armand walked quickly to Amethyst's side.
"Amethyst is with me now. She is my house guest, and
under my protection. I cannot allow you to threaten her
in my presence!"

"Your house guest? Hah! Surely you don't expect me to
believe that nonsense,,Beauchamps? No man with any
blood in his veins could keep Amethyst Greer under his
roof and still allow her to remain..."

"That is where you are wrong, Monsieur Straith!"
Armand's heated response interrupted Damien's words.
"Did it never occur to you that I might not desire to force
Amethyst into my bed, only to have her run away at the
first given opportunity, as she did from you? You are
the fool, Straith! For what have you gained but to have the woman you desire so completely repelled by you that
she would flee hundreds of miles to escape your possession?"

Armand's verbal barbs struck fertile ground, and
flushing slightly, Damien responded with exaggerated
sarcasm, "Truly, I am very pleased with your nobility,
Beauchamps. Such an admirable quality will no doubt
allow you to accept with equal grace Amethyst's decision
to return to me."

"You play the fool, Straith." Armand's low tone was a
direct reproof.

"We shall see who ultimately plays the fool, Beauchamps." Turning to address Amethyst, Damien mentally noted the quaking of her small frame, her growing
pallor, the trembling of her delicate lips as she returned
his direct gaze. "You must realize, Amethyst, you disrupt
a very well rounded family group with your stubbornness. Marian belongs with her father... Tillie belongs
with Raymond... and you belong with me."

"No!" Turning to look into Tillie's tortured face,
Amethyst turned back to stare heatedly into Damien's
sober expression. "You will not place the burden of
Tillie's pain on my shoulders, Damien Straith!"

"If not on yours, Amethyst, then on whose shoulders
should it rest? You have but to say the word and Tillie
and Raymond will be reunited."

"No! No!" Her eyes widening in sudden rage,
Amethyst charged Damien wildly, her slender arms
flailing out to pummel his chest and face in frantic
desperation as violent tears streamed down her pale
cheeks. "No! No!" Scratching and kicking fiercely, she
continued her violent attack until strong arms clamped
around her in gentle restraint.

"No, cherie, this is not the answer. Come, ma petite,
come." Taking her sobbing frame into his arms, Armand
directed a heated glance into Damien's impassive facade before turning without a word and urging Amethyst
away.

Powerless against their departure, Damien watched
Amethyst's weeping form as she was drawn away in
Beauchamps's sympathetic arms, the tightness in his
throat growing until he could barely breathe past the
swelling obstruction. Finding his voice at last, Damien
allowed his voice to follow them as they made their exit,
his words heavy on Amethyst's already growing guilt.
"No, Amethyst. That was not the answer. You know
what the only answer can be. You know.. .and you will
return to me..."

Watching until Amethyst's forlorn figure moved out
of sight, Tillie tall and proud walking behind her,
Damien turned to Raymond, to see his own pain reflected
in the black eyes that returned his stare. Raising his
hand, Damien clamped the broad shoulder with a
reassuring grip, his glance sympathetic to his pain, his
voice sincere.

"I would have you know, Raymond," he began
hesitantly, "that I do not enjoy using you to my
advantage and deeply regret your pain, iut you need not
worry. This is but a small setback. We will both have our
women again... both of us. You have my word on that."

The fine, perfectly shaped lips nursing at her breast
dropped slowly open, a small stream of milk dribbling out
the corner of the diminutive mouth as heavy lids closed
over peculiarly light gray eyes. Her own lips turning up
into a smile, a dimple skipping across her smooth cheek at
the picture of absolute contentment and serenity on
Marian's sleeping face, Amethyst felt a strong surge of
love for the dozing infant. She was really such a good
baby, and would probably sleep right through to her next
feeding without a whimper, although it was a source of
constant amazement that her own anxiety had not been transmitted to her blissfully sleeping child. It had been a
tension-filled week since she had seen Damien in the
corridor at the State House. Although she had attempted
to continue with her life as if Damien had not appeared in
Philadelphia, the pressure of Tillie's silent suffering
weighed heavily on her conscience. If it were just for
herself, she would have submitted to the personal
longing plaguing her day and night, Damien's image
always fresh in her mind.

She had now come to believe that she would never be
free of the memory of his touch, the sound of his passionfilled voice throbbing softly against her ear, the beauty
that raged between them in their more intimate
moments, and his tenderness... his supreme tenderness... Inconceivable to her was the fact that she even
missed the challenge of his vibrant personality, his quick
mind and the sparks that resulted from the clash of their
strong wills. She now convinced herself that she owed it
to Tillie and Raymond-and to her own aching need-to
return to Damien, were it not for Marian. But as many
times as she had reviewed the situation in her mind, she
could come up with only one answer. She could not allow
Marian to suffer the domination of a man who practiced
black magic... even if that man was her father. Above
all, her child came first, and she could not sacrifice
Marian to her own weakness.