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Virginia Henley (37 page)

BOOK: Virginia Henley
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Emerald clutched the pillows with her fists. “Sean, I need more,” she gasped.

“I know you do. I am going to give you more.” He straddled her back, curving his long, lithe body over hers. With loving hands he raised her bottom and entered her from behind.

Emerald had never experienced such a thing, never dreamed that such a position was possible, yet as he began to move with wild, rhythmic gyrations, she realized that this was the elemental way a stallion covered a mare. The sensations inside her were different, far more intense and overtly carnal as each thrust played over her hard little bud with hot sliding friction, before impaling her with each drugging stroke.

She felt him throbbing, then she became aware of both their heartbeats inside her body. She wondered blissfully how it could last this long, then she knew how wise he was in the way of her body. He had brought her to orgasm twice,
before he had buried his manroot hard inside her, knowing she would be quick to arousal but slow to climax.

He held her breasts in his hands, cherishing them as if they were made of precious porcelain, yet demonstrating that at this moment, her whole body belonged to him. When Sean felt her third spasm shudder through her and grip his cock, he allowed himself to spend, flooding into her with liquid fire. The scream that had been building in Emerald’s throat was drowned by Sean’s harsh cry of release.

    
A
mber knew there was someone she must see at Greystones and something she must say that was long overdue. Though Shamus would probably be reluctant to see her, Amber had to thank him for the generous financial aid that had literally saved her life.

She sought out Paddy Burke, also needing to thank him for the part he had played in her survival. Amber was vastly relieved when Paddy greeted her warmly. They left the big kitchen arm in arm, quite aware of the resentful looks cast their way by Mary Malone and Kate Kennedy.

When Mr. Burke took Amber up to the gatehouse tower, Tara greeted them, then left discreetly with Paddy.

Amber was shocked when she saw Shamus. The last time she had been here he was a handsome, vital man at the peak of his strength and energy. Now he was a mere shell of his former self. “Shamus.” She said it like an endearment.

He studied her for long minutes, his emotions warring inside him. Amber FitzGerald was a beautiful woman. She possessed a fatal attraction that Joseph had not resisted, yet he could not lay the blame at her door for all that had happened. Amber was a victim of Montague, just as was his own precious family. He lifted his hand toward a chair, inviting her to sit.

“I’ve come to thank you for the money you provided. You have a generous nature, Shamus.”

He pierced her with his gaze. “That night I still had Kathleen, I still had my sons; I was not blackened by hatred.”

Amber resisted the guilty urge to lower her lashes. “I cannot ask you to forgive me for the part I played; I cannot forgive myself. All I can do is offer to repay you.”

“There is only one way you could ever repay me. Lure Montague to Greystones.”

“Shamus, I want William Montague dead … plain and simple; that’s the only revenge that will satisfy me. But I have no influence with the man. He hates me as much as I hate him.”

“Ah, my dear, I doubt that very much. Losing you is probably the one great regret of his miserable life. Yer a FitzGerald woman; none can compare to ye! I know, I was lucky enough to be married to one. Amber, you have a fatal allure.”

This time she did lower her lashes. Her allure had indeed been fatal to Joseph and she was still drowning with guilt, but there was no way on earth she would ever put herself in a position where William Montague’s evil could reach out to touch her. She smiled sadly at Shamus and said something to placate him. “If the opportunity ever presents itself, I shall repay you, Shamus.”

    
F
or Emerald and Amber the days melted away too quickly. Though they spent all their waking hours in each other’s company, they were seldom alone.

Sean took them for a day’s outing to Maynooth, where Amber was warmly received by her cousins and aunts. The FitzGeralds reminisced for hours, outlaughing and outtalking one another until Amber could almost imagine she had never left.

In the late afternoon Sean took them to one of his tenant horse farms to choose a new mount for Emerald. She was
drawn to a milky steed with a flowing mane, and when both Nan and Sean agreed with her choice she declared she would name him Bucephalus. Sean teased her. “You’ve been reading that encyclopedia again, English.”

It delighted Emerald that their first encounter was still fresh in his memory. “Nay, it’s from reading
Alexander the Great
to your father.”

Sean urged Amber to select a horse for herself and offered to transport it to Wicklow when he sailed her home.

Amber graciously refused. She did not wish to be obligated to this powerful man.

Sean read her thoughts and grinned disarmingly. “In actual fact,” he said for her ears alone, “Montague paid for these horses. I simply relieved him of their transport and upkeep.”

Amber laughed at his frankness. “In that case I shall accept your offer. It would be churlish to do otherwise.”

The following day Amber knew their time together was rapidly running out. Midmorning she took Emerald aside. “I have asked Sean to take me back to Wicklow tomorrow.”

“Oh, no!” Emerald cried. “I’m sorry, I know you have a business to run, but our time has galloped away. It seems as if you’ve only just arrived.”

“Darling, it won’t be like before; we’ll see each other again.”

“I don’t even know what sort of business you have.”

Amber caught her breath. “It’s a … catering business. I employ women who cater parties, affairs.”

“Is there a demand for such a thing?” Emerald asked curiously.

“A great demand,” Amber answered truthfully. “Darling, I need to talk with you privately. Where can we go?” Emerald searched her face. Obviously her mother did not
want anyone inside Greystones to overhear them. “We can take the dogs for a walk.”

“That would be good. Wrap up well, I feel the nip of winter in the air.”

When Emerald came back down she was wearing her green velvet cloak with luxurious red fox trim about the hood. Amber felt a lump in her throat. “That cannot be the one I made for you.”

“No, I left England with only the dress on my back. A very ugly dress, I might add. Sean had this made for me, copied from the one I wore to Ireland the day of his birthday celebration. He remembers everything.”

They found the dogs in the stable. “The greyhound belonged to Joseph, though they had little time together.”

Amber bent down to put her arms about it. “’Tis all so heart-scalding.”

Sean’s wolfhound greeted Emerald by standing on his hind legs and plopping his great forepaws on her shoulders. “Oh, darling, be careful of the baby!” Amber cried.

“You know?” Emerald asked in amazement.

“I suspected. Not at first, but you have such a glow that I began to really look at you. I hoped against hope that my fears were unfounded.”

“I was afraid to tell you.”

“Is it your husband’s or is it Sean’s?”

“It’s Sean’s, of course!”

“Then it’s a bastard,” Amber said softly.

“Don’t say that! Sean and I love each other.”

“Let’s walk,” Amber said, needing to gather her thoughts. The dogs took off across the meadow, heading to the woods on the far side. Slowly they followed. “I know you are in love with Sean O’Toole. I would have to be deaf and blind not to realize it. But does he love you?”

“Of course he loves me,” Emerald avowed.

“Think carefully. Has he ever told you he loves you? Has
he ever told you he cannot live without you? Has he ever spoken of marriage? Has he ever said he wants you to be the mother of his children?”

“I have a husband, how can he? You sound as disapproving as Father Fitz. He called me an adulteress and told me to go home to Jack Raymond. Is that what you want?”

“God in heaven, no. I just wish you hadn’t thrown yourself so readily into his enemy’s arms.” They came to a low stone wall and sat down upon it.

“They made me believe that you were a wanton, tainted by depraved Irish blood. I couldn’t bear it when Jack touched me. The things he did to me made me feel sick. I wanted to escape, but I was trapped.”

Amber knew only too well how her daughter had felt. She had been trapped for eighteen long years with William Montague.

“And then my miracle happened. Sean brought me to Ireland and I knew I had always loved him. You are quite right in thinking I threw myself into his arms. He didn’t try to force me in any way. By the time he did make love to me, I was craving for him. Once Sean O’Toole loved me, I was ashamed of the thoughts I’d had about you. If you are wanton, then I must be the wickedest creature to ever give myself to a man. He may never
say
that he loves me, but he shows me in every possible way that he does.

“He is never ever fierce or harsh with me. He never hurts me. He has loving hands when he touches me. We did have a fight once, when he took me to England and I accused him of flaunting me as his mistress. And it was true, he used me to revenge himself against the Montagues, but we both gave in and begged forgiveness of each other. After the things they did to him, I completely understand his need for revenge.”

“But, darling, there may be no room in his heart for anything but his need for revenge.”

“Mother, he has taught me to live for today, because it’s all we really have. If it ended tomorrow, I wouldn’t regret one fleeting moment of our time together. And I don’t regret this child. It is part of him and part of me, perhaps the best part.”

Amber had a difficult time keeping the tears from her eyes. “Just as you are the best part of me, Emerald. Just promise me that if he ever hurts you, if your dream turns into a nightmare, you will come to me.”

Emerald wrapped loving arms about her mother. “Who else could I ever turn to?”

W
hen William Montague received the news that he had lost two ships in an Irish gale, he cursed heaven and hell and everyplace in between. When he learned that the uninsured horses he had already paid for were lost at sea, he went berserk. Life at Portman Square, always unhappy for Johnny, now became intolerable; the old man’s temper was making life hell. Now that John could afford to live elsewhere, he moved out and took a flat in Soho.

When John arrived at the offices of the Montague Line, his father was still raving on about Ireland and how everything connected with the accursed place had always been disastrous for a Montague, but at least John was thankful the old swine was no longer blaming him.

“Nobody loves horses more than I do, but we lost the entire crew of the
Gibraltar.
You don’t seem to give a tinker’s damn about them!”

“I don’t! Too bloody bad the crew of the
Heron
didn’t drown as well; they’re nothing but lowlife incompetent drunken scum.”

“You should be thankful they didn’t drown, if only for the reason their families won’t be screaming for compensation.”

“Eh? Not a penny piece, you hear me? If any families come whining about Captain Bowers or his crew, tell them to see Jack. He’ll soon set them straight!” William Montague
sat down heavily and rested his throbbing foot on the brass spittoon. “Both ships were adequately insured, I take it?”

“Of course,” Johnny lied smoothly. “But you know how long Lloyd’s takes to settle these claims. We need more ships immediately, we can’t wait for the insurance money. I have a source who will give us a marine loan at a low rate of interest. I’ll make all the arrangements, but you’ll have to scout the ships you want. You recall what happened when you let Jack choose the vessels.”

John watched with satisfaction as his father’s face took on a dangerous purple hue, as it did every time he reminded him that he had bought a ship they already owned.

“This time I’ll trust you to buy the ships.”

“Father, I can’t do everything. I have to sail to Lambay Island to pick up the stranded crew and see if the
Gibraltar
is worth salvaging. If she’s begun to break up, I’ll have to make out a report for the insurance claim.”

William’s jowls sank to his chest. Christ, money and ships were disappearing faster than they could ever recoup them. They were hanging on by a thread. How different things were from the good old days when he and Shamus O’Toole raked in so much profit, they didn’t know where to spend it all. If only he could turn back the clock.

    
J
ohn Montague took full advantage of his quick trip to the Irish coast. Rather than sailing directly to Lambay, he first went to Greystones.

As soon as Emerald realized the ship that had just arrived was the
Seagull
with her brother aboard, she threw open Greystones’s massive front doors to welcome him. Emerald was bursting with the news about her mother and couldn’t wait to tell him.

“You look radiantly happy,” he said, giving her a warm kiss of greeting.

“Come in. I have something wonderful to tell you! Mother was here! Sean found her living in Wicklow and brought her for a visit. You’ve just missed her: Sean has taken her home.”

BOOK: Virginia Henley
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