And how all thoughts of Gerard had evaporated once she had experienced the voluptuous satiation of his masterful coupling with her?
And to top it off, she thought mordantly, Court could reveal the secret of her lusty nipples, and how she exploded with pleasure when he squeezed them while she watched him play with her in the mirror.
Yes, Gerard would love knowing about all these things he could never have. She had been a fool to encourage him in the first place. Everwhen she had known that her father's folly would be the deciding factor of who she would marry.
What am I going to do? What? How could he do this to me?
Why couldn't he have just gone away?
Why? Why! Because four days ago, you still loved him. Four days ago, Court had not adorned your nipples with gold. Four days ago, you knew nothing about the whims, the power, and the carnality of men.
And now you know… and you've chosen, and you must be fair and tell Gerard face-to-face, just as he entreats you to.
How? Wearing what? My thrall collar…? My golden loops around my nipples…?
She couldn't bear to sit still. She paced around the room agitatedly, trying to make some sense of things, trying to figure out a way to avoid it altogether.
Gerard wanted to meet with her tonight. He wanted to hear from her own lips that she wanted him no moretonight.
Which meant that somehow she had to find a wrapper or dress to cover her nakedness and sneak down to the arbor after the moon rose.
Elude Courtat nightwhen every carnal impulse was in play… including her own…?
The gods were crazy; there was no way she could accomplish it.
Even if Evie were to help her.
She had to get rid of Gerard. He was perfectly capable of continuing his onslaught of notes and pleas. And always in his gentle, but determined way. He'd never stop, ifshe did not put a stop to it.
And, in fact, it was entirely possible that he would continue to hang around, hoping against hope that she would leave Court.
But that was impossible now. Not after tonight. Not after the ferocious pleasure she had experienced at his hands.
She would meet Gerardsomehow
She pulled open the armoire door and almost fell forward in her astonishment.Changes. There were dresses hanging in the armoire.
She didn't even know if she remembered how to wear one.
She would wear one tonight. Just for a few short moments, tonight. And then she'd never have to get dressed ever again.
Midnight. The house was quiet, too quiet, she thought; Court had been gone all day, conferring with his overseer at Oak Bluffs.
It was time to get back to business, he'd said, and maybe she was glad, at least today, that he felt that way.
He'd be staying overnight, Evie told her. And maybe that was a good thing, because she needed that time; she had to make Gerard understand: she belonged to Court, and she wanted everything Court chose to give her.
She wondered to what extreme she would have to go to convince Gerard of that. He was not a man who was easily brushed off. He had been very persistent in his wooing of her, and now, in his pursuit, in spite of the fact that she was married.
She might well have to use every weapon at hand: the way she dressed, what she said, and how much she would admit about how far she had gone…
How far…
The thrall collar hung on a hook in the armoire. She took it down thoughtfully.Too far?
She stepped through the straps and pulled them up slowly. Under the right dress, it wouldn't show. And it would keep her on course, reminding her that Court owned her body, and that she was hiswilling sexual slave.
She fastened the collar around her throat, her heart pounding with a kind of heady fusion of fear and arousal.
She found a muslin dress with a high pleated collar and short, puffed sleeves that she could wear with one crinoline. The skirt looked deflated, and the hem dragged on the ground, but that was of small consequence to the purpose. It concealed the collar and her rising excitement. She wore nothing else beneath the dress but a pair of kid boots that would do for a moonlight walk, and she was ready.
And she was hot, suffocating with the brazenness of what she was about to do. Thank God Court wasn't home.
This was so risky. Court would kill her if he found out. He'd kill Gerard.
Stupid. She shouldn't even go.
Let Gerard hang. If she didn't show up, he would have to understand that this was the end of their… friendship.
Or maybe he wouldn't. He didn't read her lack of response correctly the first time.
Oh, damn, oh, damn. She didn't want to ever see Gerard Lenoir again.
What would it take? An investment of twenty minutes, perhaps, to tell him clearly that he could not entertain any fantasy that she would leave Court and come to him.
Twenty minutes, maybe less, to impart her message to Gerard and get back to the house. Court would never have to know.
But only… if… she left…
… now…
The moon, so bright it was as though she were carrying a torch, lighted her way through the trees, down the rear carriage drive, past thegarconniére, the smokehouse, the kitchen, and the vegetable gardens, every path carefully laid out as if someone had planned for lovers to trod this way.
No, not lovers. They'd never been lovers, she and Gerard. They'd been dreamers. And every conversation, every plan they formulated had been the insupportable fantasy of two lonely souls looking for escape.
That was the unpalatable reality she had to tell him, along with the fact that she reveled in her death-do-us-part coupling with the domineering and possessive Court Summerville.
Hard truths he would not want to hear.
But he had promised, if she met him, he would go away.
Her heart started pounding as she skirted the vegetable gardens and paused at the entrance to the arbor. It was laid out between the gardens and the stables and there were a half dozen paths to enter it on three sides, and it was so dark within, the moonlight just filtering through the vines.
Somewhere in there, Gerard waited.
She called to him softly; there was only a thick silence and the hoot of an owl in response.
This is too stupid. He's not here. He's playing a stupid game. He didn't come. I hope he didn't come. I prayhe didn't come…
Something grabbed her and she shrieked; a hand clamped over her mouth and a hard male body pulled her under the cover and fecund smell of the leaves and vines.
"Shhh…"
Gerard…! Damn! Her heart was pounding so hard, she thought she would die.
He spoke in a whisper, hissing in her ear, "Can I let you go?"
She nodded, and he relinquished his grip on her mouth.
"You came."
"Let go of me."
"I can't. Ican't, God help me," he breathed, and she felt, in the weight of his arm around her midriff, the weight of his suppressed passion. And she didn't know how she was going to manage him.
"You have to," she hissed. "I belong to Court now. It's irrevocable. I can't change it. And listen to me, GerardI don't want to."
He ignored her. She couldn't believe it. He just chose not to hear the words with which she committed herself to Court.
"My darling, you can change it. You can change anything. Remember what we said, what we promised. It's not too late"
"But it is. It's too late, Gerard."
He stiffened. "What do you mean?"
"I mean what you think I mean."
His arm loosened. "No. No. You promised he would never lay a hand on you."
Time for the lies. "I didn't know how little choice a woman had."
"He forced you." Gerard moved away from her. "I'll kill him."
Now for the truth. "He didn't."
He wheeled on her, and she was glad she couldn't see his face. "I'll kill you. I won't let him have you."
"It's too late." She moved closer to him, in a combative stance.
He didn't want to hear her. He took a step back. "All right, all right."
"He took me," she said inexorably. "He took away my clothes; he forced me to be naked. And then he did things to my naked body that I liked. That I begged him to do…"
"No!" She could feel the force of his fury. He had lost her, lost control. Gerard did not like anything to be out of his control, especially her.
So much like Court. She'd never considered the similarities before.
"No. No. No." As if his denial would make it true. "You didn't. You… didn'tyou couldn't… Let's say… let's… just say there were circumstances over which you had no control. Let's say his baser nature got the better of him"
Push him to the edge… "Or mine," she whispered.
Explosive now; he radiated pure volcanic rage as he grasped her with a violence he could barely contain and shook her.
"Or yours…" he ground out. "You could have beenmine…"
"I belong to him. He bought me, remember? He paid for anything he did to me…"
"Noooo… o-o-o-o-o…" he moaned, and she went on relentlessly, "And I let him, Gerard. After the first penetration, I begged him to. I spread my legs for him willingly. I wear his thrall collar. I let him restrain me so he can do whatever he wants to me."
"You bitch, you bitch, you bitch… You swore you'd save it for me…"
"I didn't," she said brutally. "It wasn't real, what we said, what we thought we had. But he's areal man. And I want what he has betweenhis legs."
"Bitchbitchbitchbitch… I could have taken you at any time… I could have forced you… I could take you now…"
"Keep your promise, Gerard… kiss me good-bye and leave me, as you swore in your note."
"Ohhh, I'll kiss you, you bitch. I'll kill you before I let him fuck you again…"
He grabbed her and forced his mouth on hers, his body against hers.
He was wet, hard, furious, powerful.
He was not Court.
She went limp in his arms and prepared for the worst.
In the shadows just beyond the arbor, he stood and watched. He heard the voices, heated with passion, though he could not make out distinctly what they said.
It didn't matter. What mattered was what he knew: that all the sexual heat and pleasure in the world could not keep his wife from her former lover.
He didn't think she would want to leave him, even for Lenoir. She had it too good. He'd made a huge mistake there, giving in to her body, giving her all the sex she could handle.
Hell. She could probably do them both: Lenoir at midnight in the arbor, and him whenever he wanted during the day.
Those voices were so passionate. They were arguing about the circumstances. Lenoir probably still wanted her to go. She wanted him to stay. She wanted them both and she was probably trying to reason with him, to tell him she had enough juice for them both. All Lenoir had to do was agree to her terms.
By God… nobody knew better thanhe what a bitch in bed she was: hadn't he already fucked her nipples to a paralyzing orgasm, and here she was, not eight hours later, in heat for another man?
Over his dead body.
Over Lenoir's.
If that bastard touched her… if he tried to penetrate her
He watched as Lenoir grabbed her and she came willingly into his arms and reached for his hot kisses… watched her body undulate against Lenoir's, seeking his heat, his hardness…
Goddamned trollop… he should have known the minute she'd agreed to the marriage. She could be bought. She knew what she had: virginity and the hottest naked body in Louisianaand he would bet Lenoir had known that all along.
Damn her to hell… the bitch… damn her to goddamned hell
He wheeled away from the ugly scene and lifted his arm.
It was time to end the farce.
She couldn't stand him, his touch, his kisses, the feel of his body pressing against her.
His rage made him strong, his passion drove him. He grasped the collar of her dress and ripped it away from her neck and down to her breasts. "You bitch, you bitch"
He reached for her throat. "Jesus shit… what's this?"
"I have to wear it, every day, everywhere," she whispered. "He made me, but now… now I revel in it. He owns me…"
He howledit was the only word for it, and he wrenched the material of her dress all the way down to the hem…
And a shot rang out.
He froze. "I could kill you…"
"Don't move…"
A new voiceherfather's voice.
"Pull up your dress, you little tart."
Drue hurriedly gathered the folds of material to her breast as her father appeared at the opposite end of the arbor.
"How cozy," he said. "You and Lenoir forever, eh, Drue."
"No," she protested. "No."
"Looks like it to me. Court's home, by the way. Got done with businessreal early."
Drue's heart dropped to her stomach. "What areyou doing here?"
"I want to get rid of a pestilence that could ruin my garden."
"Go to hell," Gerard growled.
"I think you're there already," Victor said. "You got your money. Get the hell out of town. Drue…"
That registered. "What do you mean, he got his money?" she asked, turning toward Victor.
"Let me have the pleasure of telling her, Victor. Seeing as how we're airing all our dirty secrets tonight," Gerard said nastily. "Or do you still not want her to know?"
Oh, God… no… what? She waited. But her father didn't seem discommoded. Whatever Gerard was talking about, it couldn't hurt Victor anymore.
Or her.
"Tell her," Victor said.
"I was the one to whom your father owed all that money," Gerard said maliciously. "Me.Not Summerville."
"WHAT!!!????" Her whole world tilted. Everything went crazy, spun upside down.
" Not Court," Victor amplified."This piece of dung, who planned the whole scheme: get me in enough debt and I would turn you and Oak Bluffs over to him."
"No! No…" She shook her head as she backed awayfrom her father and his perfidious lies, from Gerard and his heinous plans.
"Summerville saved your ass," Gerard said.
"And kicked yours all to hell," Victor interpolated smugly. "Killed your plans. Destroyed everything you worked for. Got the girl and the plantation, too. Couldn't have asked for a happier ending."
"Until you get your hands on the cards again," Gerard spat. "Until the idea of fast money lures you out of hiding and Lady Luck seduces you all over again. And she will, because you, my friend, are a goddamned sucker."
Omigod, omigod, omigod… Gerard her father's debtor. Not Court. Not Court. Court didn't buy her. Court saved her. Saved her father, saved Oak Bluffs…
Omigod…
She backed out of the arbor blindly.Omigod…
And what if Court had been listeninghad been watching…?
Omigod…
She couldn't get away fast enough. And she couldn't get out of earshot, either.
Her father was determined to enrage him; crazy, when Gerard had lost everything. Gerard would kill him.
She didn't care. She didn't care. Her father had just lost her, too.
"No," Victor taunted. "You're the dupe, believing I would let you come within inches of Drue, would let you step one foot on Oak Bluffs. You gull. You butt. You goat."
"You son of a bitch!" Gerard roared.
"You bastard" Victor goaded, his voice taut, controlled.
She heard a scuffling, a thump, as if Gerard catapulted himself at her father. And then a shot into the echoing silence that reverberated all over Wildwood.
All inside her.
Father Tears streamed down her face. She didn't care, she didn't. The betrayals were too crippling.
She didn't want to see. She didn't want to know.
She hoped they'd killed each other.
Father…
Pulling the shreds of her dress around her, she turned and ra
n.
chapter 9
Court had removed himself from her completely. She hadn't seen him for days after the incident in the arbor and she was feeling very irritable.
At first, she hadn't wanted to see him, not after that night. Not after her father had wounded Gerard so seriously. He lay recuperating even now in the surgery of a Dr. Boulois of St. Faubonne, and according to her father, he and Court had exacted a promise from Gerard that he would leave St. Faubonne Parish and relinquish any idea of contactingher again.
"Oh, he will run his little businesses in New Orleans," her father told her a week later, coming to visit when he was certain her anger had died and that she would forgive him. "And he will find eventually another wealthy dupe, another innocent girl, you can be sure of that."
She wasn't quite in the mood to forgive. She felt ill-used, as if she had been nothing more than a puppet, caught between her father's cupidity and Court's avarice.
Nor did she like her father's assessment that reduced her feelings for Gerard to those of a raw, simple-minded, green girl.
"Youknew how much I cared for him…" she said testily.
"Exactly," Victor said. "I owed him so much money; I was sure you would marry him just to cancel the debt, but I couldnot have that upstartparvenu in possession of property that has been in my family for generations."
"So you sold me to Court," Drue interpolated, unable to keep the bitterness out of her voice. "He's probably the only one in the whole of St. Faubonne who could afford youandme."
"It's an excellent match, my dear. I knew what I was doing," Victor said breezily.
"I wish you had told me," Drue grumbled, but in point of fact he had:She'd be taken care of, he'd said of one of the advantages of her marriage to Court, and he had been so right. He had no idea how right.
"You were in love with that bastard," Victor went on. "You would have defended him to the deathandmarried him to spite me."
She clenched her fists. She probably would have. She probably wouldn't have seen the vast, eager scheme behind Gerard's sensual seduction of her. She certainly wouldn't have believed her father's interpretation of it.
And so Court became the villain.
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