Passion's Joy (24 page)

He had smiled to himself, still remembering King Henry, the pet Ram and he had made of the squirrel.

Still caressing Libertine, Joy tried to understand. "I don't understand," she said slowly, turning to him. "Did you borrow her from Mr. Baxter?"

"My dear girl! Ram never borrows, he purchases what he wants." "Ram bought my horse from Mr. Baxter?"

"Why, of course. You can't imagine Ram would let that undeserving wretch lay hands upon something you love?"

She turned back to Libertine, not quite understanding why Ram would do so, but happy he did. She knew Ram owned a fairly renowned stable in England. No doubt he wanted Libertine for breeding, too. She trusted Ram explicitly, and furthermore, she suspected Ram would let her ride Libertine, perhaps often. If she could raise the money before he took Libertine away—perhaps with an agreement that he could take Libertine's first colt—"Oh Sean, do you think that, if I were to make the money, Ram and I could reach an agreement—that he might sell her back to me?"

Sean drew back in shock. "I can state with authority that Ram would not ever—under any circumstances—sell you this horse."

She was instantly wounded by this.

"My dear, you're being rather dense about this. Ram bought Libertine for you; Libertine belongs to you, no one else."

Her eyes widened as she turned back to Libertine. She backed slowly into her creature, needing support.

Sammy stepped alongside Cory and took Cory's hand in his, as they both watched with wide smiles of wonder at the morning's change in the family's fortune. Cory's eyes filled with happy tears, for she better than anyone knew what Libertine meant to Joy.

Gathering her wits, Joy slowly shook her head. She could not accept such a generous gift; there was just no way she could accept. Accepting food when one was hungry was one thing, but this quite another. A young lady could not accept such outrageous generosity from a gentleman who claimed no familial relationship.

"I can't accept such a gift; he knows I can't."

Sean nodded. "Ram said you would say that. He said if you do not accept the present, he will personally take a pistol to her head and see her hide made into chicken feed."

Sammy suddenly laughed.

"He can't do that!" Joy cried before changing her mind, "He wouldn't do that!"

"Ah, but he can, and what's more is I can guarantee he would. In case you doubt it, I might add that, unfortunately, the dastardly deed would not even rank in the top five most notorious crimes committed by your benefactor. The choice is yours, my dear; I have only laid it at your feet."

Joy spent several pained minutes weighing the possibilities. Perhaps he could do the dastardly thing! He would do it! He was just that cruel and mean!

The fierceness of her love for Libertine made her believe Ram capable of it; she had no choice. Who could possibly fault her for the breech of propriety when the alternative was so terrible? Certainly not Sammy or Cory, who stepped forward to share her happiness and tears, all of which was Sean's pleasure in witnessing.

Joy immediately began pressing Sammy to let her take the money to Jefferson Parish, enumerating all the benefits such as saving Sammy weeks of his life, the speed with which Libertine could take her—

"I'm afraid you're all too late," Sean interrupted. "Ram sent a man last night with the bail. The Reverend should already be making his way home. I should probably explain the rest. Ram, being ever thorough, yet a man of great discretion, has seen all your debts paid and with credit added. It took two men to do it, so I don't imagine no one place was missed." He smiled down at Sammy. "This includes your employer, too, I believe your book with that man has been balanced."

Shocked, dumbstruck, overwhelmed characterized the continuing sweep of their emotions.

Young and unaffected, the wonder of it struck Cory. Ram Barrington seemed like a larger than life Saint Nicholas, a man whose kindness and generosity was simply too huge to fathom. A single sweep of Ram Barrington’s hand banished all their troubles and they were gone.

Sammy's head lowered; he could not look up at Sean, whose presence substituted for Ram Barrington's. He didn't know what to say; he didn't know what he could say. Never had his life met such kindness, with the exception of when Joshua had rescued him much as they had Jim Boy from the certain death of the turpentine swamps. The gratitude soaring through him in rushes of emotion owed not just to the fact that the family burden had been lifted from his back, but also to the fact that he was no longer alone in his effort to care for those he loved.

Sammy tried to convey the depth of his gratitude, but the emotion overwhelmed him and he turned his back, wiping the first tears he had shed in many long years.

"Sean," Joy whispered, attempting where Sammy failed. "I don't know what to do ... I don't know how we can thank him ... I—"

"My dear." Sean chuckled at this. "Had you an idea of how you might thank him, I dare say he wouldn't have done it."

He saw more had to be said though. Sean tried to put Ram's generosity in perspective, explaining how money had absolutely no meaning to Ram. "I could name the size of his personal income—plus the supplementary income derived from his properties and investments, which are at least a hundred or two times that amount—but the figure would have little meaning to you three, though perhaps this will: Each year Ram gives at least six-tenths of his income to poor houses in England, India and a few in Boston. The remainder goes into investment, all to give the world a larger store of charity next year. So, what you've received today is—how do you Americans say it? Not—"

"Even a drop in the bucket." Sammy managed to supply.

"Exactly," Sean finished his speech, reiterating again that money was of no value to Ram, except when as today it could buy happiness. Then Sean refused to listen to a single protest, and needing to be alone with Cory, he urged Sammy off to work and Joy off to the pharmacist. He would help Cory carry everything inside.

Soon the boxes filled every available shelve in the small adobe, and the remaining ones sat stacked in neat towers throughout the cottage. Sean accepted Cory’s offer for coffee. Cory excitedly went about the preparation. She could even offer him sugar and cream, just like a fine house.

"Cory May," Sean began as they sat in the sunshine of the small parlor. "I need to speak to you about something."

Cory was all happy attention, thrilled as Sean dumped a small mountain of sugar into his coffee. She followed suit. She would bake a cake today to celebrate,,,

"Something unpleasant I'm afraid." Cory's face dropped in quick alarm.

"Oh, nothing that bad," Sean added quickly. He took her hands in his. "I just need to caution you and Joy. You see," he feigned solemnity, "there's ah, a disease going around. It only strikes young women, and the first sign of it is that their monthly bleeding stops. When was the last time you and Joy passed it?"

Cory's eyes fell with the shame of a man's mention of the unmentionable.

"Oh come now, Cory May, don't be a ninny. I specifically addressed you with this concern rather than Joy because Joy's sensibilities are too ... ah, delicate." He bit his lip to restrain the

hilarity of that statement. "I'm almost a married man," he lied, "and married men know about these things."

She looked up in surprise. "They do?" she asked curiously. If Sammy married her, would he guess this secret—would he know, too?

"Ah, this and more." Sean smiled at her. "Now, when was the last time you passed it?” "Are you sure I can be tellin’?”

"It's for your own good, my dear."

Looking to both sides conspiratorially, Cory lowered her voice to an excited whisper. "It’s the queerest thing! Joy and I wonder each month about it, cause hers and mine come on the exact same day. Yes, it’s true! Every month, just like clockwork. We've never missed, not once. This is it: It comes on the first day of the full moon."

"Every month?"

Eyes wide, she nodded solemnly.

It made the whole thing too easy, too blessed easy. "So"— he looked away with a smile, a curious arch of his brow—"it shall be the night of the new moon ..."

Cory looked confused. "No, the full moon."

Sean waived his hand in dismissal, said something nonsensical before he explained that when two female souls touched, it sometimes had this curious effect. "Not to worry," he added, "while the first sign of the disease is a missed bleeding, it never amounts to more than a minor bout with the flu, that is if it is treated in time. I know the cure, so if at any time you or Joy happen to miss, you come straight to me with the information.''

Cory made the promise to do just that.

Sean now had the date; the next moonless night. Getting Joy to Ram’s bed—absurdly, ridiculously easy. Getting Ram to accept this gift—easiest of all.

The fallout? Possibly catastrophic, certainly explosive and possibly painful, even very painful. No matter. None of it would matter if he managed to save Ram’s life, if the plot bore fruit.

His ultimate success rested on Joy Claret's belief in the sanctity of life, if the young lady was strong enough to save Lord Ramsey Edward Barrington Ill's first child. If there was any woman in the world who had a chance it was Joy, the girl who loved freedom…

* * * * *

Joy kept Libertine at a brisk pace over the narrow path. The muddied passage eventually led to the mossy banks of her small pond where she was to meet Sean. Libertine stepped into the open space, and Joy brought the horse to a stop, dazzled by the splendid colors of nature's pallet. The scent of wild flowers mixed with thick humidity in the air, promising rain. Pewter gray clouds spread like a blanket over the sky and kept the day warm, even hot, especially when the sun broke through.

She abruptly spotted Sean, already sitting in wait for her on a dark blue quilt beneath the shade of a willow tree. It surprised her, for she was an hour earlier than the designated time of his note. She slipped from Libertine's back, letting her horse roam and graze with Sean's mount. They exchanged warm greetings as she first moved to the water. She knelt to splash the cool liquid over her face, neck, and hands. He suddenly remembered Ram saying, "Her every movement causes me agony."

Well, my lord, you shall finally lay your agony to rest, he smiled to himself.

“Have you heard Seanessy?” Joy plopped down on the blue blanket, her maroon skirt forming a pretty circle around her. “Congress is considering letting Missouri join the union as a slave state and Maine as a free state—to keep things balanced—” She stopped, abruptly noticing the somber look on Seanessy’s face. “Something is amiss.”

Seanessy nodded. "What's wrong?"

He glanced briefly away with the question, expelled his emotions in a sigh and returning his gaze to her. "The time has come, my dear. I have a proposition I must put to you. You will find it insulting, no doubt a breach of your great trust in me and our friendship. You will likely hate me for making it."

She stared with confusion before suddenly smiling. "You are teasing me again—" "I am not."

Unconvinced, she dismissed him with a wave of her hand and another smile. "How could I ever hate you? What could make me?"

"I must lead up to it with the question," he said, then fell silent for a long moment. "Do you have any idea of how much Ram wants you?"

The word want meant cared for or even love in her mind and she blushed. "I think you're very mistaken," she replied softly, the sadness of it plain. "Ram does not want my society. With Joshua so well of late, I've tried to see him many times these last weeks to personally thank him. He is always too busy to receive me, either engaged with other company or gone, and once Bart said he was not there, when I overheard him speaking to someone. I think he tries to avoid seeing me altogether."

A strange gentleness marked Sean's smile. "Joy, he avoids you because he wants you. Don't you see? He cannot resist the temptation you present."

She wanted desperately to deny this. Modesty demanded she deny it, and yet, she knew Ram did try to avoid her. There was no reason for this, except if what Sean said was the truth. "Has he ever told you this?"

"Many times." Sean chuckled, laying down on his side, and rested on an elbow with his booted legs stretched over the blanket. He toyed with a long piece of water reed. "Ram absolutely refuses to take your innocence. You do know what I mean by that?"

She nodded because she did know, she knew from Ram's kisses, the things he said when he stopped, and this easily met the facts she knew about the physical aspect between a man and a woman. What shocked her was Sean's broach of the subject; it was a breach of decency and propriety, surely in want of discretion.

She could never understand exactly how both Ram and Sean, their men as well, made any polite illusions to propriety seem like farce or even a joke, and true, when she was in their company, she often found herself trespassing without thought.

This though, felt somehow different. Something in the calculation of Sean's stare, even more than his words, warned her to leave quickly. The only thing stopping her was the fact that she trusted Sean's friendship explicitly.

Sean waved a mosquito from her face and said quietly, "If you do understand this, then I can address my proposition directly: I will have you give your innocence to Ram as my gift."

She stared hard with widening eyes. "What can you mean?'

The shock in those eyes told him all; he knew she understood. "I believe, my dear, your innocence has in fact finally failed you."

Joy wished—oh how she wished—her innocence could shield her from those outrageous words! It did not; she understood perfectly. What she could not understand—not for her life—was how or why he thought she could, or even how Sean thought she would sit to listen to it! "You go too far, Sean," she said, rising to her feet. "I don't know why, but you have gone much too far."

She started for her horse.

Sean only smiled as he said, "In return for this, I shall buy you the freedom of three people of your choosing at the marketplace tomorrow."