“Is this true, Ella?”
Ella raised her eyes to Daniel. “I wanted him to, master. Punish me, also.”
A sapphire light danced in Daniel's eyes. “Claude, have I been such a cruel master that you think I'll punish you?”
“No, you have not.”
“I won't inflict physical punishment upon you, but in years to come you may not thank me. I believe you should make an honest woman of Ella. You must marry her.”
“No!”
It was Amelie's voice which objected. She jumped from the sofa, the color suddenly returning to her face. “He can't marry her!”
“Why not?” Daniel asked in suspicion.
She didn't know what to say, only that she'd die if Claude married Ella. Never mind that she was married to Daniel and sleeping with him. She carried Claude's child. He must want only her. Only her forever.
“Marriage isn't punishment for what they did, what I saw them doing. They must be whipped. I demand it!”
“Amelie, I don't whip slaves. Claude and Ella didn't do anything wrong but make love. There's no crime in that.”
“You would say such a thing. A man who left countless panting whores across the continent.” She pounded her small fists against his chest and wished he were Claude. “I want them punished!”
Daniel didn't mean to, but he'd had enough. “You're overwrought, Amelie. I'll take you upstairs to your room until you can think sensibly.”
When he took her arm, she twisted away. “I'll go myself!” Whirling from the room, Amelie ran up the steps and locked herself in her room.
Daniel apologized to Claude. “This is a terrible shock to her. When she calms down, she'll see how ill-advised punishment is.” He grinned at Ella. “You may leave now.” Soon after the girl departed, Daniel halted Claude in a booming voice. “Not you, Claude.”
Claude cocked art eyebrow. “Yes, monsieur?”
“Stop the respectful crap. We've been friends a long time, or rather we were friends, but now I sense a difference in you. As my erstwhile friend, I want an honest answer from you, Claude. Have you and my wife slept together, been lovers during my absence?”
Straightening to his full height, Claude shook his head. “Madame Amelie is a lady, and you should respect her more.”
“That doesn't answer my question.”
“Mister Daniel.” John the butler came to the open doorway and interrupted them. He motioned to Daniel.
Daniel followed John into the foyer. “Sorry to break up your talk, sir, but there's a lady in a carriage outside who insists on speaking with you.”
“Tell her to come in.”
“She won't, sir. She insists you go outside.”
Intrigued, Daniel noticed a small and shabby carriage parked by the steps when he opened the front door. Nearing the carriage, a dark veiled woman motioned for him to enter. After he climbed in and closed the carriage door, she pulled the veil up and offered him a tremulous smile.
“I apologize for the mystery, monsieur, but I don't want to be recognized, so I borrowed a friend's carriage. I am the mistress of Philippe Marchand.”
“Ah, yes,” Daniel said remembering something he'd heard about a quadroon mistress some years ago. He didn't know Philippe still kept her. What a lucky devil Philippe was! A beautiful quadroon mistress and a beautiful wife who happened to be the woman he loved. “What can I do for you?”
“Nothing for me, monsieur, but Madame Marchand is in great need of you.”
“Lianne? What's happened to her?”
She placed a finger to her lips. “I shall tell you all on the way to New Orleans, but let's leave now, monsieur. I wish to keep my identity a secret.”
Without bothering to inform anyone where he went, Daniel left Green Meadows to be with Lianne.
Lianne sensed Daniel's presence before she opened her eyes. He knelt beside her bed, his large hands stroking her hair back from her forehead but careful not to touch the bandage. Tears of happiness welled within the emerald depths of her eyes.
He enfolded her in his arms and held her as if he'd never let her go. “What has that animal done to you?” he croaked.
“I'll be all right,” she whispered, but she clutched at his shirt front. “I'm worried for my baby. If Philippe harms her⦔ Her voice drifted off, as fear for her daughter washed over her.
“He won't lay a finger on her. I've sent word back to Green Meadows through one of Chloe's neighbors about the situation. My mother will make certain Désirée is unharmed.”
“But he won't let Dera take her to Green Meadows.”
“Yes, he will. You don't know how fearsome Mother can be when she's angry, and I know Philippe will comply because of the scandal. He will pay for this.” Daniel emphasized his words.
“No more about Philippe, Dan. I only want to look at you.” Her gaze traveled from the top of his dark head to the angled planes of his face. Her fingers stroked the hardness of his jawline. “Crazy artist.” Her voice held tenderness. “You look worse than I do.”
Daniel grinned and shrugged. “I've never cared too much about my clothes.”
“I love you, you know.”
“I know.”
“I want you to kiss me.”
His eyes caressed her, moving lingeringly across her face. He gathered her to him in a velvet embrace and drank from the sweetness of her lips. But he moved his head away. “I've wanted to do that for so long, but now isn't the time, Lianne. You need to rest.”
“I am rather tired,” she whispered sleepily against his chest. “But when I'm well again you better be on guard, Daniel Flanders, because I'm going to show you exactly how much I love you.”
“I look forward to that.”
He pulled the covers around her as if she were a child, and sat with her until she was asleep. Since evening was coming on, he lit the candles in the parlor and one in Lianne's bedroom. Chloe arrived just past dusk, and smiled at Daniel who sat in a chair beside Lianne's bed. She carried a tray which contained bowls of hot gumbo, a highly seasoned broth made with shrimp and rice, and a jar of cold tea.
“My mother wishes you to have this,” she whispered lowly. “When Lianne wakes, she must eat. My neighbor informed me that he gave your mother the message about Lianne and you're not to worry. Here is a note from her.”
Daniel took the piece of paper and grasped Chloe's thin fingers in his hand. “Thank you for your care of Lianne. I'm most grateful.”
“You love her very much, monsieur, and she loves you. I help her not because I want her out of Philippe's life, but because your Lianne hasn't had a very happy life. I have, despite what you and she might think. I love Philippe, though at times, he doesn't deserve it.”
Chloe left as quietly as she had come, and Daniel read the note.
Daniel,
You're just like your father, running off and not telling a soul. Such wild sons I've raised, but I know Lianne needs you. I'll get Désirée from that beast of a man; and Philippe will hand her over to me, never fear. Between Maria and myself, the weasel doesn't have a chance.
With love,
Your mother
He nearly laughed aloud to imagine his thin mother and large Maria confronting Philippe. But he knew the baby would be safe. His child. Whether Lianne admitted it or not, he knew Désirée was his.
When he was drifting off to sleep later, he woke at the sound of Lianne's screams. Rushing to her, he held her shaking body in his arms and soothed her with his voice and hands until she realized she wasn't dreaming.
She quieted after a few moments, clinging to him. It was the same nightmare she'd had since Philippe's attack. Not only did she dream of his contorted face and the feel of his fist, but once he stopped, he handed her bruised and broken body to Raoul de Lovis who was just as brutal.
“You're safe, sweetheart. I'll take care of you.” Daniel looked at her and held her at arm's length. “When I return to Green Meadows, I'm going to ask Amelie for a divorce.”
“Daniel, do you mean that?”
“Yes. I want to marry you and claim my daughter.”
Lianne extinguished a bitter sigh. “I suppose you hate me because I lied to you about her.”
His lips sought the corners of her mouth. “I was hurt, but I love you, Lianne. We'll make a life together. The three of us at Green Meadows.” Then his tongue traced the curves of her lips.
She tilted her head for an instant, and the emerald eyes darkened in passion. “I feel much better, Daniel.”
“I hoped you would,” he groaned into her hair. Daniel yanked off his shirt, then his pants before her passion-starved gaze. He stood before her, majestic as a mountain. The blood stirred and meandered through her veins like the ocean tide. When he came to her, she ran her hands across the hairy expanse of chest, the powerful, broad shoulders.
This was the man she'd dreamed of all those nights she laid in Philippe's arms. All of the yearning, the dreams of him were about to become a reality. Her voice was soft when she spoke and promised them a joyous existence. “I'll marry you, Daniel. Just as soon as we're both free.”
He didn't speak, but she felt his smile upon her, felt the hot passion in his eyes. Slowly he unbuttoned the tiny pearl buttons which ran the length of her nightgown. When he parted the gown to reveal her nakedness, he started. He had seen Philippe's handiwork upon her face, but now to see the dark bruises which spotted her breasts, torso and legs filled him with such intense fury he wished to leave her and rush to Belle Riviere and kill the dog who had done this to her.
She saw the anguish and anger on his face. “The bruises shall heal.”
Her calmness touched him, and the fury fled into the night. Gently he kissed each and every bruise, until her entire body was coated with his kisses. As his mouth trailed to the hollow of her neck, then moved still lower until his exploring tongue captured the rosy tip of a nipple, she moaned. Hot waves of sensation washed over her and made her body grow liquid.
The truth of his love, his hunger for her were written on his face, and Lianne knew that after this night, they'd never be parted again. Waves of passion flowed through her. His hands rippled over the curves of her body, rousing her to ecstasy, while she explored his body with her lips and fingertips. He moaned at her mouth's possession of him but soon brought her face level with his and kissed her so deeply she thought she'd swoon. His eyes were so bright she saw them gleaming in the candlelight.
“I'll love only you the rest of my life, Lianne.”
An intense pleasure ripped through her when he positioned her atop him and entered the warm core of her being.
The flame kindled in her, soared higher than the clouds, lifting her into a swirling vortex, a dimension of agonizing ecstasy of licking flames, of blue fire, which was only extinguished by the ebbing waves of total fulfillment.
They clung to each other as they reached the zenith, then spiraled and whirled in a velvet mist.
She gazed at him as he stroked the satin softness of her skin. Her eyes lightened from a dark, passion-laced green to a color which resembled sea foam.
“I feel like your bride.”
He kissed the tip of her nose. “Soon you will be. Do you know that I loved you from the first moment I saw you performing at Paul and Allison's anniversary ball? I think it's fitting that we met at a place filled with so much love.”
“I'd love any place if you were there.”
For the rest of the night they made love. At dawn, both were weary and drifted into sleep. Lianne had no fear that this time she would dream about Philippe or de Lovis.
After all, she convinced herself before she fell asleep, nothing could mar her perfect happiness now that she and Daniel had found each other at last.
“There will be a scandal, you know. Are you both prepared to deal with it?”
“Yes,” Daniel answered his mother's question for himself and Lianne. “I'm used to curious glances. Believe me, I've had my share.”
“But Lianne hasn't,” Dera stated with a worried frown on her face. Daniel glanced in the direction of the stairway where Lianne descended from the nursery with Désirée in her arms. Seeing her, he forgot about his mother's concern and smiled at the beautiful picture Lianne made with his daughter. His daughter. Pride burst from him to know that he had a child, a child conceived in love and pain.
“Maria told me she was a good girl.” Lianne rewarded him with a smile which was a warm caress and handed him the child who immediately squirmed and wiggled to be put down.
When he placed her on the floor, he couldn't contain his surprise and pleasure. “She's walking!”
“Of course she is,” Dera said, playing the proud grandmother to the hilt. “She's as rowdy as her father and uncle when they were small.