His Dark Desires (19 page)

"
Non,
" I said emphatically. "I only wanted you to believe good things about your father and your heritage. Now please, Andre. What happened?"

"Monsieur Hayes and several of his friends were at the camp, showing us how to shoot rifles."

I gasped.

"They said a man has to know how to protect and feed his family. Everything was fine, and then the more whiskey they drank, the wilder they became. They started shooting at squirrels and birds, laughing. I told them I was going home, and Monsieur Hayes called me a coward just like my father, and told one of his friends that he better check the silver at the house before I left. The friend said he'd check me right now and grabbed me, ripping my shirt. He asked me what I did with all that gold. I tried to hit him, and he punched me in the face. Then they told me how my father stole everyone's gold and deserted the army."

"Where were Phillipe and Will?"

"Hiding in the trees."

Grown men had done this to my son! Why, after years of silence, had Mr. Hayes spoken so cruelly to Andre? First thing in the morning, I'd pay his family a visit. How dare he treat my child so!

"Andre, I would have given my life to save you from this."

He took a deep breath. "I didn't need your life. All I needed was the truth."

"Will you ever forgive me?" I whispered.

At first I thought I was imagining his hand upon my tightly fisted one. But as he increased the pressure of his fingers prying mine open, I realized he was reaching out to me. I opened my hand and he slid his into mine. Only then did I have the courage to meet his gaze.

"I am angry about everything. But I love you,
Mère
. I love Ginette and Nonnie, and Mama Louisa and Papa John. Anger does not make the love go away, but it does make me want to be alone right now. Do you understand?"

There was more substance to my son than I had known. "
Oui
. Just know that when you are ready, I would very much like to hug you. You have become a man who will make me very proud."

His eyes widened

Stephen returned then and his smile appeared forced, his eyes more shadowed, adding fuel to my apprehension. After he and Andre finished their chess game, I approached.

"Would you care to join me in the courtyard for a few moments, Monsieur Trevelyan?"

"Certainly. I am in need of a bit a fresh air. Andre has just beaten me soundly."

"Really?"

"
Oui, Mère
. When might we play again, Monsieur Trevelyan?"

"Tomorrow evening, after dinner. I need time to strategize."

Andre laughed, then excused himself, saying he had to finish reading
Swiss Family Robinson
.

"He has never shown an interest in literature before. You are quite the miracle worker," I said as we exited through the French doors, leaving the coolness of the house for the steamy heat of the sun. By unspoken agreement, we headed toward the fountain.

"Just a matter of tweaking the lad's interest. Sometimes that requires having been a boy yourself."

"Tell me about Ginette. What was so urgent?"

He glanced away from me, looking at the fountain for a long moment, then sighed. "She wanted to know if I could do her a favor, and she wanted to know more about Dr. Marks. Now, tell my why you look upset."

I told Stephen what had happened to Andre at the camp. "The incident with Mr. Hayes and his cohorts would have never happened if it weren't for me."

Stephen slammed his fist against the hard marble of the fountain's base. "The hell it wouldn't. Men like Hayes are a disease in society. You cannot blame yourself for the vileness of others."

I took my silk handkerchief, dipped it into the cool waters of the fountain, and reached for his hand. He sucked in air as I pressed the silk to his torn knuckles.

"I fear that my wardrobe is unlikely to survive all your injuries, Stephen."

He wrapped his fingers around my wrist. "Just as I am unlikely to survive your touch or my desire for you, Juliet. I want you." Desire darkened his eyes.

"I want you, too," I whispered.

"Enough to come to me? I want you to touch me. To trust me. To let me fill your every desire." Releasing my wrist, he slid his fingers tantalizingly down my arm, awakening my senses, touching my heart.

I had to close my eyes to keep from reaching for him. "I am not a free woman."

"So?" he asked harshly. "Must you pay for your husband's crime by spending your life alone? Could you go back to being his wife after all these years?"

I shook my head. "Legally I should, but I could never do so." My heart belonged to Stephen.

He exhaled with relief. "That's a start."

"What do you mean?"

"It means I want more than a tumble in a carriage. I want all of you, every sweet inch of you, inside and out for a long, long time. Even if Jean Claude turns up alive, I'm not going anywhere, Juliet. I'll try and be patient for a short time, because of everything that is happening, but we haven't even begun to explore the pleasure between us."

C
HAPTER
T
HIRTEEN

The next morning, after a long discussion with my family about my course of action, I traveled in the safety of a carriage to speak to the Hayes family concerning their treatment of my son. I thought to ask Stephen to go but he was strangely absent from his room, his bed still made as if he hadn't slept there.

On the way to the Hayes Plantation, I had the driver stop at the post office and the telegraph office, where I inquired if there was any word from Mr. Goodson. I was irritated and worried over his continued silence, and thought I might have to take a trip to Baton Rouge in the near future.

Before long, the busy streets of the Vieux Carré pulsed outside the carriage's window. The bustling city in the early summer morning shimmered with life. Everyone hurried about, trying to get as much done in the cool of the morning before the sun would steal the breath from the air.

Suddenly, on the street corner I saw a disheveled Stephen with a fully turned-out Miss Vengle at his side. They were standing close together, talking. She appeared to be hanging on his every word, and a stab of pain and jealousy shot through me. Had he been with her during the night?

I wanted to stop the carriage and demand to know what was happening. Then it hit me that I thought Stephen guilty of being with another woman, with no real reason to believe that.  He'd been talking to her, not kissing her. And honesty made me face what I had been doing to Stephen for days: I'd led him to make love to me, then I'd held Jean Claude like a barrier between us.

I could no longer avoid a decision about our relationship.

My thoughts dwelt on that during the long ride to the Hayes Plantation on River Road. I didn't take note of my surroundings until the sharp, repetitive report of gunfire snapped me from my thoughts.

"Monsieur." I rapped on the roof of the carriage with my parasol and peered out the window. "Whatever is going on here?"

The driver leaned over the side, his bleary blue eyes troubled. "Sounds like the White League to me, ma'am." He pointed to the woods flanking a huge, sprawling lawn with an equally impressive mansion sitting in the middle of it. A haze of smoke hovered over the trees, and I heard the rhythm of precisely timed gunfire.

"The White League is mighty restless these days. They aim to take down folks they think are too uppity for their own good. They especially hate you if you don't have the right color skin."

"I didn't realize Mr. Hayes was associated with such a despicable group." In fact, there had been some discussion at my suffrage meetings about the group. The league had vociferously opposed the Women's Right to Vote movement.
Dieu
, what had Andre involved himself in?

"Mr. Hayes leads a vigilante group, and no one dares oppose him or they are likely to be found hanging."

I shuddered.

"You still interested in going to the Hayes Plantation?" He nodded at the mansion and my eyes widened.

The Hayes family had done extremely well since the
end
of the war. They'd been well off before and now it appeared they were doubly so, if the expansion of the house was an indication.

"
Oui
," I said, tightly. "But you had better wait for me."

When the driver pulled to a stop, I exited the carriage with determination and rapped the brass door knocker soundly.

The butler opened the door immediately. "May I help you?"

“
Oui
," I said, marching in past him. "It is urgent that I speak to Madame Hayes."

The butler looked down his nose at my rudeness. "She is indisposed. If you'll leave me your card, I will see that she is notified."

"Then Monsieur Hayes will have to do."

"He is indisposed, as well."

"I am not leaving until you tell one of them that Madame Boucheron is here."

"Very well." The butler turned and left me standing in the center hall. I walked about the foyer, surprised to see valuable statuettes and gilt-framed paintings filling every possible space.

Moments later, a red-faced burly man hobbled into the room. I could hardly recognize Mr. Hayes; he appeared to have grown monstrously overweight and had developed an unseemly disposition to match.

"Come to gloat over your lover's handiwork? How dare you come to my house?" he said, standing menacingly in front of the doors.

Shocked, I straightened my back, wondering what in God's name he meant. He appeared crazed, and I tightened my grip on the bone handle of my parasol. "You dared to harm Andre! Grown men beating up and cruelly taunting a child—I'm appalled by your cowardly abuse."

He laughed. "Abuse? You dare say that after what you had done to me? I'll show you what abuse is." Fist raised, he came limping toward me.

"No! We will be ruined if you harm her," Letitia Hayes cried, running into the hall behind him. She had a bruised cheek, her hair spilled from her bun as if she'd not fixed it in days, and terror glistened in her gray eyes. Mr. Hayes turned and knocked Letitia back, sending her to the floor.

My gasp of disbelief turned to pure outrage. He turned toward me again, raising his fist. Heart pounding, I hit him firmly between the legs with my parasol. He doubled over and fell to the floor, grabbing his unmentionable parts and yelling for help,

I pressed the pointed end of my parasol against his throat. "If you dare hit me, or my child, or any child or any other woman again, not even Satan will want what's left of you."

Turning, I went to Letitia, reaching out to help her up. Though she'd spurned me for years, she was once close to me, and my heart cried for her. Her home was richly grand, unlike mine, but her life was a travesty, and so poor compared to the fullness of mine.

She shifted away from me, hiding her face. "Go away."

"Let me help you. How badly are you hurt?"

"Just go away," she whispered.

I dropped my hand but leaned close enough to whisper, though as loudly as Mr. Hayes was screaming, he couldn't have heard me. "Come to the suffrage meeting. There are women there who can help. Don't let him do this to you."

She didn't say anything and didn't look my way. The sound of approaching footsteps urged me to leave before Mr. Hayes found someone willing to carry out his threats against my person.

"You're always welcome at
La Belle
," I said softly to Letitia, then left. Mr. Hayes was screaming for his army from the woods, so I quickened my step and told my driver to hurry.

All the way back, I feared that Hayes would come barreling into the carriage and extract revenge. My driver was about to turn onto my street when he stopped, alarming me.

"What is it, Monsieur?" I asked, peering out.

"Something in the road, ma'am. Appears to be an injured puppy. I'll go see what it's about."

Hearing faint whimpering cries of pain, I reached for the door, only to have the latch snatched from my hand. A man covered in a white-trimmed dark cloak, wearing a ghoulish mask with two slits cut for eyes, grabbed me and wrenched me from the carriage. I screamed, and a brutal hand clamped over my mouth and nose, cutting off my air. Struggling, I fought against the man's grip while a dizzy haze threatened to consume me. I saw the driver lying in the road, bleeding, and I fought harder. I twisted violently, managing to dislodge the attacker's gloved hand enough to draw precious air into my lungs.

"What's wrong, dear wife? Do you not remember your loving husband?" the unfamiliar voice rasped harshly. "I've returned, and you'd better run for your life, because I am going to come for you and you will never know when. In the middle of the night when you and your lovely sisters sleep, when you tuck my son into bed at night..."

"
Non!
" I cried, throwing my entire weight forward and kicking back at him with the heel of my boot. He grunted and I broke free, running for the live oaks and their thick cover of heavy moss. I heard the report of a pistol, but I didn't stop.

Branches and twigs stabbed at my face, digging into my skin. I ran and ran until Stephen's voice jerked me to a stop.

"Juliet! Where are you! Answer me!"

I gulped for air. "Here," I tried to say. "Here," I called again, louder this time.

Dense foliage rustled and Stephen burst into view. He limped toward me, favoring his left leg as if he were injured.

"Dear God." He wrapped his arms around me and pulled me hard against his thundering heart.

"There's a masked man. We must hurry," I urged him.

"I shot at him. He left. How could I do this to you?"

I pressed my hands to his chest and pushed hard. He stepped back, releasing me immediately.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"When you told me what happened to Andre at the Hayes Plantation, I swore to myself that I'd make sure those who were responsible pay, and I went looking for them last night. By morning I'd found them all and gave them a thrashing they won't forget. Now it looks as if I've brought the wrath of the White League down on you. Christ, I'll never forgive myself. And I'll never forgive you for putting yourself in danger! What were you thinking, to go there alone?"