Lilac Temptress (25 page)

Spinning slowly in a circle she
glanced around the beige room. Its impressive arch shaped walls
covered with golden-framed artwork, made it feel more like a
gallery than a bedroom. The massive mahogany four-post, king-sized
bed sat opposite a hand-carved fireplace mantle.

Near the fireplace stood a sienna
armoire and writing desk. The sweet aroma of fresh blossoms sitting
in a tall vase on the dresser relaxed her senses. The sitting area
offered a grand rococo carved rosewood sofa and two armchairs
furnished with royal fabric patterns in shades of ruby, black and
ivory, luxuriously decorated with damask. Another leather and amber
wing chair sat near the stately fireplace.

Sierra smiled softly to herself. The
polished floors were tiger striped oak. Rugs spread about, felt
soft and plush when she placed her naked feet on them. She tilt her
head toward the vaulted ceiling, which was showcased by oriel
windows to the floor, hidden by hanging velvety violet drapes with
bullion fringes; they stood a lengthy distance from the side of the
bed. She made her way through two huge veranda doors leading to the
balcony, which overlooked the courtyard and the vast Mississippi
River in the distance.

While Sierra took in the view she
thought about Adrienne, wishing she were there with her to see this
grand estate. Even in her dreams she had ever imagined such a
majestic estate she realized, blinking back tears of awe before
they could threaten her perfectly made-up face. Sparing one last
glance at the lush greenery, she turned and sauntered back inside,
sinking into the cushioned, oversized, high-back chair next to her
bed’s end table. “I must be strong,” she told herself as she
regained her composure, put her hands on each side of the supple
chair, pushed herself up, and headed out the door.

She wandered through the corridor,
eyes wide while she took in the many rare elements that the house
contained. It was a palatial house—a beautifully constructed maze,
with marbled floors, and mantels with fireplaces found in almost
every room. Cathedral ceilings matched spiraling twin staircases
that curled to the lower level. Sierra breathed in
deeply—awestruck. The vision of the place poured through her being.
Every moment something new beckoned her attention, like the vase on
the small sienna table with fresh flowers and golden light fixtures
lining the walls. She examined Drake’s possessions, and her eyes
devoured every detail. She fixed her gaze upon a portrait of Drake
against the far wall. She wanted to admire it for hours—study how
the artist had captured his likeness. It was apparent that he
valued beauty. He was surrounded by it.

She lost herself in his house. She
knew that she could lose herself in his life. But she reminded
herself that she could not let all of this distract her. She would
do all that she could to keep things platonic between her and
Drake, but she wondered if it was too late.

Why didn’t he tell me that
he was probably one of the wealthiest men in New
Orleans
? She shuddered, unnerved while she
continued to stroll down the hallway taking in more objects. Drake
liked owning things and suddenly she felt like just another prized
possession.

I don’t belong
here
, she thought insecurely as she stepped
down a flight of stairs. She peered to her left and entered what
seemed to be a study. She glanced around the room at the rich
ginger furnishings. A complete bar lined one wall and tall portico
doors leading outside spanned the other. Pistols and rifles were
displayed in glass-encased shelves.
So
many
...
Why would
he need so many? Perhaps for dueling they are weapons of
choice.

She frowned, recalling what
Drake had told her of his past guilt and remorse over the woman
whose death he could not prevent... and then it dawned on her, that
despite the grandiosity of his estate, all the wealth he owned and
displayed, his prominent background and to top that, his stunning
physical attributes, he still had no wife, no children, no family
of his own making to share all of this with. “Drake, you must be so
lonely
,”
she sadly
whispered.

“
Can I help you with
something, Lady Maudet?” an older man inquired, approaching her
from behind.

Sierra jumped, startled. “I... I was
just...” She composed herself before turning to face him. He stood
ready, crisp and clean in his uniform, poised and
pleasant.

“
Forgive me my lady. I
didn’t mean to startle you. I am Henry. I was away when you first
arrived and did not get a chance to make your acquaintance. May I
escort you to dinner?”

“
Thank you.” Sierra smiled
at him nervously as they walked out of the room. She noticed the
butler shut the doors behind them and heard the clicking of a lock.
She didn’t know if she had made a mistake by entering the study,
but she did everything she could to walk with confidence as Henry
escorted her down a long corridor.

“
It’s a beautiful house
isn’t it?” Henry agreed with the wonderment in her eyes.

“
It’s nothing like I’ve
ever seen...” Sierra said as her voice trailed off. They arrived at
two huge art-carved doors and she swore there were little cherubs
carved into the woodwork.

“
Lady Maudet,” Henry
announced as he slowly swung the doors open. Sierra peered across
the pleasantly formal room, filled with sophisticated furnishings,
which sat upon huge Oriental rugs. A fireplace with a beautifully
carved marble mantle graced the far wall. High ceilings were
adorned with elaborate plaster decoration on the dividing arch and
ceiling medallions. The walls were graced with golden-framed
artwork. Two tall windows, draped with heavy red-wine velvet
curtains, reached up toward two crystal Empire
chandeliers.

A male attendant stood to the left of
the room nicely dressed in black slacks and a bright white ruffled
shirt and vest. Three large crystal vases filled with rich bouquets
of tiger lilies and roses stood in the center of the dining table.
Ornate candelabras rested on each side along the length of the
table, on which lacy linen tastefully flowed. The table was set
with engraved silverware, crystal goblets, and fine porcelain china
fashioned with leafy gold patterns.

Drake aristocratically seated in a
cushioned dining room chair at the head of the table, faced
Sierra’s full view. He looked nothing like he did back in
Jadesville. He was wearing a simple white dress shirt under a red
Ambassador vest with a shawl lapel, two inset waist pockets and
black dress trousers. In his personalized surroundings, he looked
the finest she’d ever seen him, and she suddenly became very aware
of her mediocre appearance. She had chosen to wear her best dress,
but it paled by comparison to his attire, leaving her feeling even
less secure.

Drake surged to his feet and quickly
pulled a chair out on his right for Sierra. “Thank you,” she said
politely as she walked toward him and took her seat.

“
You look amazing, Sierra,”
Drake said, his eyes gleaming as he caught his breath and slowly
exhaled.

It was still his silky
voice she heard. He was still the same man who traveled through her
town.
Nothing has
changed
. “Oh, but everything has,” she said
out loud.

“
Everything has what?”
Drake took his seat next to her.

Sierra, surprised that her private
thoughts had become public, quickly recovered her wits and said,
“Oh it’s nothing... you look different, yet still
amazing.”

“
You’re nervous,” Drake
voiced gently, noting her stiffness. It was a response he had seen
many times while with her. He wanted to reach out to her—touch her
and massage her tension from her shoulders. But he had to stay in
his chair. Maybe she’d interpret his lack of action as indifference
to her feelings of discomfort. It wasn’t true of course, even so he
had to remain seated, he reminded himself. He wasn’t her man, even
if wished to be, and he had made her a promise to keep things
platonic, though he wasn’t quite sure how realistic that was at the
moment. All he knew was that he wanted her to be there with
him—that her presence, somehow made him feel less alone.

“
Drake, I don’t know what
to think of this. Everything is so overwhelming. Your home is truly
a large, splendid residence,” Sierra replied quietly.

“
Is it really all so
different from what you learned of from your books or just simply
imagined?” Drake asked, his eyes questioning. He wanted to impress
her, but he wanted her to feel comfortable as well.

Sierra wanted to explain that his home
was a palazzo and ask him how could she possibly feel comfortable
staying at such a place, but instead she said, “I think I might
have made a mistake. Kyle and I don’t belong here.” Sierra glanced
at the footman who stood in the corner silently waiting.

Slightly alarmed by her all-to-soon
regret, Drake eyed her with pervading intensity, “But you do belong
here, and everything I own I’ll share with you. I didn’t lie to you
in Jadesville. When I told you I would do anything, give you
anything, I meant it, even if it’s the shirt off my own back. I am
still the same man who made that promise.”

Sierra lingered briefly on his words
and gratefully smiled back at him, secretly deciding that the image
of him sitting there with his shirt off was quite
pleasing.

Drake winked playfully at her. Again,
he wanted to touch her for a brief moment but if he did he knew he
wouldn’t be able to refrain from kissing her. All his patience
while waiting for her to join him for dinner—just to be close to
her again, caused him frenzy.

“
Why didn’t you come to my
room?” His words were sharp and direct.

“
I thought it was better to
find my own right away.”

Drake shrugged, gave her a quick
disapproving once over and then quickly turned his attention to the
open entryway doors. “Rosaline,” he said, smiling brightly while
rising to his feet.

Sierra turned, stunned to find a
beautiful young girl with a striking resemblance to Drake, striding
toward him.

“
I told everyone to keep my
arrival a secret. I wanted to surprise you, she said struggling to
contain an equally brilliant smile spreading across her face. “Have
I succeeded?” she asked with a hopeful lilt to her voice. In
response he reached out for her and swept her up into his arms for
a huge hug. He wouldn’t dare tell her that he’d already known of
her arrival and spoil her surprise.

“
Rosaline, look at you! You
are all grown up now and a rare beauty at that.” Drake’s excitement
was evident as he returned her to the floor. “How long are you here
for?” he asked buoyantly.

“
Presumably until the
celebration,” she responded. “Father and Mother are having a huge
romp. Everyone who is anyone will be there. They have invited all
the families and—”

“
Mother is in town?” he
asked, cutting her off. “Why are you here and not there?” Drake
asked suspiciously. Rosaline had often made excuses to run away
from home.

“
For goodness’ sake,
Drake—am I on the stand?”

“
Rosaline... I am genuinely
happy to see you.” Drake assured her with his most charming and
convincing smile.

“
Well, I sincerely hope
that you are, but I would be insincere if I told you my motives for
coming to see you didn’t include me trying to escape from mother
and her matchmaking ways. I want to be free as the wind to do what
I will and want. I’ve told her this, but she doesn’t seem to
understand.

Drake, I know she is looking for
suitors for me and—” Rosaline stopped mid-sentence as if finally
taking in the beautiful woman at the far end of the
table.

“
Oh dear—how rude of me,
you have a guest,” she said sardonically, a little perturbed that
she’d had to share her brother’s attention. “This one is very
pretty,” she whispered in Drake’s ear, but not faintly enough for
Sierra not to hear.

Rosaline curiously strut toward
Sierra. “Please forgive my manners. Drake has not been so kind as
to introduce us yet.”

Her comments weren’t unwelcoming,
Sierra thought, but her tone and facial expressions didn’t quite
suggest that she’d hoped to find another lady in her brother’s
house, playing her usual role as mistress of the manor, Sierra
guessed.

“
Then allow me to introduce
myself.” Sierra kept her smile polite.

“
No, allow me,” Drake said
quickly cutting Sierra off. “This is my sister Rosaline, and
Rosaline, this is Lady Sierra Maudet.”

Sierra listened to see if
Drake would say more, but he did not. She thought Drake might be
ashamed of her—he and his sister appeared to be a fine image of
royalty. And she, sitting there in her
best
dress, must have looked like
street rubbish by comparison.

Sierra ignored her mounting lack of
self-confidence and decided to wear her best face. “Rosaline—Drake
has told me much about you,” she remarked eagerly.

“
Has he
really
?” Rosaline
disbelievingly lifted her brow. “Well, I’m impressed. You see...
Drake never really
ever
takes the time to introduce—”