Tears of Gold (60 page)

“And, of course, they never do it again. They can’t get very far hobbling along on one foot. I don’t know why they bother, or what they expect to find in New Orleans or upriver somewhere. They’ve got my brand on them, anyone can see that they aren’t free. Of course that doesn’t seem to stop some of the Northerners turning a blind eye to it,” Amaryllis complained. With a regretful look at Nicholas, her eyes narrowing as she saw Mara, Amaryllis lifted a casual hand in farewell and whipped her horse into a gallop down the drive.

Appalled, Mara hugged herself, shivering as she thought of those slaves being hunted down like animals. Amaryllis, Mara suspected, rather enjoyed the whole thing.

“Come, let us forget this unpleasantness,” Etienne advised kindly as he guided Mara back inside, Nicholas following without a backward glance.

***

“Surrender, or face destruction,” Paddy ordered as his troops surrounded the enemy army. Kneeling in the large leather chair in front of Nicholas’s desk, Paddy surveyed his regiment’s position on the battlefield, deciding that desperate measures must be taken if his side was to be victorious.

Climbing down from the chair he scooped up several toy soldiers and transferred them across the room to the windowsill where he perched them rather precariously near the edge. As the battle progressed and further troops were rerouted to the top of the make-believe escarpment, one of his soldiers lost his footing and became a casualty of the war. Paddy sighed in exasperation as his soldier hit the floor. Getting to his feet, he stomped over and retrieved the wounded soldier. With the toe of the soldier’s boot broken off he couldn’t stand properly, so Paddy wedged him in the crack along the sill. But as he pressed the soldier’s heel deeper into the crack, it widened and began to slide back to reveal a space beneath the flat surface of the windowsill.

Paddy gasped in surprise, his mouth forming a soundless circle as he stared at the secret compartment. “You’ll get a medal for this, lieutenant,” he declared as he put down the toy soldier and began to push back the wooden panel.

Paddy peered down into the hollow sill, but it was dark and he couldn’t see much. Sticking his small hand down inside he felt around the bottom, his eyes lighting up as his fingers came into contact with something.

“Secret orders!” Paddy whispered in triumph as he withdrew the small leather-bound book and several documents tied with ribbon. They looked very important. He replaced them in the secret compartment without even glancing at the contents. Then, reaching down, he grabbed the wounded soldier and placed him on top of them to stand guard. No one would know of this secret hiding place, he vowed. He jumped back into the center of his armies and resumed the battle with renewed vigor.

“You still playing with those toy soldiers?” Damaris demanded as she sauntered into the room, her frilled drawers just peeking out below the hem of her plaid skirt.

“It’s raining,” Paddy replied unperturbed.

“The sun’s come out,” Damaris informed him airily.

“So?”

Damaris eyed him calculatingly, a secret smile curving her lips. “So maybe you might be interested in doing something besides this…child’s play?” she hinted. There was an if-you-dare note in her voice.

Paddy glanced up. “You wouldn’t know about playing with soldiers. You’re just a girl. Girls play with dolls,” Paddy told her patronizingly as he bent his dark head back to his soldiers, missing the brief flaring of anger in Damaris’s eyes. “Besides, I have a secret that even you don’t know about, I bet,” Paddy taunted. “And I’m only going to tell Uncle Nicholas about it.”

“Then I guess you’re not interested in going for a ride on Sorcier?” she said indifferently. She started to leave, one of her half-boots carelessly knocking over one of Paddy’s soldiers.

Paddy’s head shot up. “You’re going to take Sorcier out?” he demanded in disbelief even as admiration glowed in his eyes. “But Uncle Nicholas said you weren’t supposed to ride him, ever again.”

“Oh, pooh to what
he
has to say,” Damaris dismissed Nicholas with a shake of her auburn braids. “Sorcier is my horse and I can take him out whenever I wish,
and
,” she paused enticingly, “I can ask anyone I want to ride with me on him. Of course, that certain person would have to be pretty brave and not be frightened of horses.”

“I’m not afraid!” Paddy exclaimed as he jumped up and hurried through his soldiers, knocking them over as he ran after Damaris’s retreating figure. “Will you really give me a ride?”

Damaris turned, eyeing him doubtfully. “I might.”

“Oh, please, Damaris, please,” Paddy begged as he followed on her heels from the house.

Mara watched their progress across the yard from the gallery outside her room. The rain-drenched air felt good. Mara wrapped her cashmere shawl closer around her shoulders and frowned slightly when she noticed Paddy hadn’t put on his greatcoat and Damaris had on only a short velvet jacket over her skirt and blouse. She was about to call out, then decided against it, for they were probably going directly to the stables to see the puppies or the new foal.

Mara walked back inside, and closing the doors behind her, she made her way to the fireplace where a good-sized fire was burning. Holding out her chilled hands, she rubbed them together before the flames, and lifting her skirts, she let the warmth penetrate to her legs.

She sank down into a chair near the fire and wondered, again, what she was going to do. She couldn’t just stay around until her condition became obvious. After last night she was more concerned than ever, for Nicholas was still not tired of making love to her. Mara pressed her fingertips against her temples. She couldn’t understand Nicholas at all. Why was he continuing to keep her here? It was painfully obvious that he could have Amaryllis if he wanted her, so why keep Mara around? Mara stared into the flames, deciding on a last attempt to persuade Nicholas to allow her to leave. If he would not, then she would escape Beaumarais without his permission.

“I knocked twice, but you’re brooding so deeply that you didn’t even hear me,” Nicholas spoke beside Mara, the sound of his voice startling her. She jumped to her feet.

He was dressed for riding, his boots shiny and black and reflecting the jumping flames of the fire. “You have a very guilty expression on your face, my dear,” he spoke quietly. “Have you reason to feel so? What devious plans have you been devising in here by yourself?” he asked, a warning note in his voice.

Mara swallowed nervously. There was something so intimidating about him sometimes that it was impossible to meet his eye. That made her seem even guiltier.

“I want to leave Beaumarais, Nicholas,” Mara said quickly, her golden eyes widening with an almost pleading look.

“I thought we’d already gone over this argument?”

Mara glared up. “Why?” she demanded. “Why keep me here any longer when I’m sure the widow would be more than happy to warm your bed. Or is it that you are still unsure of her and wish to make her jealous? You flaunt me before her with the de Montaigne-Chantale jewels around my neck while you play your sadistic games. I think it’s despicable.”

Nicholas laughed. “Now that is something, coming from you, Mara O’Flynn. But I don’t know why you should be so impatient, my dear, for if, as you say, my kisses mean so little to you, why should you mind staying as a guest in a lovely home, having nothing better to do than to worry about which gown to wear to dinner?” Nicholas asked. “And yet here you are sounding like a jealous woman being mistreated by the man she loves,” he ended silkily, his eyes glowing.

“I just don’t like being used, that’s all,” Mara denied the truth of his words. “The theater is my life and I’m anxious to return to it. Besides,” Mara added, her tawny eyes looking seductively up into his as she caressed his hard cheek with the back of her hand, “how am I ever goin’ to be findin’ meself a rich husband stuck way back here in the swamps?”

Mara was startled to feel his jaw clench beneath her hand. His fingers wrapped viselike around her wrist as he lowered his face closer to hers. She could feel his breath against her lips. “Someday, Mara O’Flynn,” he bit out in a barely audible whisper that made Mara think more of a growl, “you’re going to push me too far. And then, my dear, you’re going to wish you’d never opened that insolent mouth of yours.”

“So what else is new? You’ve never spared my feelings before. Or maybe
you
fear pushing
me
too far, and then you’ll be hearing a few painful truths about yourself,” Mara taunted.

But before she could utter another word, his mouth had closed over hers, shutting off her tirade more effectively than any angry words he might have spoken. It wasn’t a gentle kiss, for there was a brutality in it that hurt her far more than his words could have. It was a hot and searing kiss, an insulting kiss without any real warmth.

Just as suddenly she was free of his embrace. They stared angrily at each other for countless seconds, then Nicholas had dropped his arms and, turning on his heel, walked from the room.

Mara stared blindly after his disappearing figure, her hands clenched painfully at her sides as she began to shake.

She was still standing in the middle of the room a few minutes later when she heard voices raised in anger coming from the front lawn. Stepping out on the gallery, Mara leaned over the railing to see Nicholas in conversation with several young stableboys. They were stepping nervously from foot to foot and looking around at each other as if stepping the blame for something.

Nicholas seemed to tower over them in his black boots and narrow riding breeches, his hands placed firmly on his hips as he listened. Something must have caught his attention then, because he turned his head as if listening to a distant sound. Turning around, he stood waiting. Mara craned her neck to look along the drive but she could see little. Suddenly a flash of color caught her eye, and as she stared in amazement, the big bay, with two children clinging to his back, jumped the railings of the fence edging the drive, then shot onto the spacious lawn and trotted toward the front of the house. Mara could scarcely believe her eyes as she looked down at Paddy’s dark, windblown curls and his thin arms wrapped around Damaris’s small waist. His legs were sticking out like matchsticks as he bumped up and down on the rump of the frisky stallion. But before Damaris reached the path, she caught sight of Nicholas standing before the house, his face grim with angry silence as he stared at the two small figures perched atop Sorcier’s broad back.

Mara’s breath caught in her throat as she recognized that look of cold rage on Nicholas’s hardened features, and knew that no thought of leniency would enter his mind as he punished them for disobeying his orders. Damaris and Paddy had earned his full wrath and would now pay for their defiance. With the thought of getting to Paddy first, Mara hurried along the gallery to the outside stairs, hoping she could get there in time.

Damaris stared down at Nicholas unrepentantly, not showing a flicker of the fear that was causing her heart to race alarmingly in her small breast, and whether it was this fear that was transmitted to the big horse, or the excitement of having too many people come too close to him, he reacted violently. Rearing backward, his forelegs pawing the air viciously, he unseated the startled Paddy. Nicholas reached out and scooped Paddy before he hit the ground, Paddy’s frightened yelp echoing to Mara as she turned the corner of the house and saw him falling from the back of the big bay. All she could think of were the heavy hooves coming down with deadly accuracy on both Nicholas and Paddy.

Mara stopped short as she saw Nicholas swing Paddy out of reach of the horse’s rage.

“I thought I told you, Damaris, not to ride Sorcier,” Nicholas said, his voice vibrating with fury. “Paddy could have been killed or maimed for life because of your recklessness.”

Damaris stared down at Nicholas in growing fear, knowing deep down inside that she shouldn’t have taken Paddy up with her on Sorcier’s back. But she wouldn’t admit that she couldn’t control the big stallion. “You aren’t my father! Sorcier’s mine, and I can ride him whenever I wish,” Damaris defended herself even as she fought with all her strength to keep control over the bay.

Nicholas saw the determined effort she was making to keep her seat on the spirited horse, but he knew it was only a matter of seconds before her grip weakened and the reins became slack. Then Sorcier would be off. Nicholas could sense it in the way his eyes rolled.

Nicholas reached out to grab hold of the reins. Damaris, seeing his intentions, jerked back on them, causing Sorcier to snort angrily and rear up once again. Nicholas swore beneath his breath as he sidestepped the flying hooves. Moving quickly, he pulled Damaris from Sorcier’s back, swinging her to the ground before she knew what had happened. As Sorcier felt the disturbing weight leave his back, he began to settle down. Now he was content to stand easy while one of the more-experienced grooms patted his sweating neck and talked soothingly to the big bay before leading him away.

Nicholas still had hold of Damaris, and as he felt her squirming in his arms, he let her feet just touch the ground before he pulled her along beside him to the steps of Beaumarais. He drew her across his knee and spanked her with the hard palm of his hand, continuing despite her shrieks of rage as tears welled in her eyes and, overflowing, fell down her burning cheeks.

Nicholas released her, stepping back just in time to avoid the toe of her boot as she kicked out at him. Then, with a mortified look around her, she ran crying into the house.

Paddy stood frozen to the spot as he saw Nicholas walking toward him, his intention clear in the green eyes. Before Nicholas could reach him, Paddy had taken to his heels and raced up the steps and into the relative safety of the house. Even Mara’s reassuring arms were no haven for him against the cold anger of Nicholas.

“Nicholas!” Mara said as Nicholas started to follow Paddy. “Don’t you dare touch him. He’s not your child. I will have a word with him,” Mara told him as she hurried to catch up with his long strides.