Arms of a Stranger

by Danice Allen

  “A man like himself, perhaps?”

  He sighed. “Yes.”

  Anne turned in Lucien’s arms, sliding her arms around his neck. “I’m sorry, Lucien. I’m sorry you have to leave your home like this. I’m sorry you and your father couldn’t be closer. Your mother will be sad to see you go. She loves you very much.”

  Lucien smiled weakly. “That only makes it harder, Anne.”

  She reached up on tiptoe and kissed him. “I’ll always be a support for you, Lucien. I’m your family now.” She blushed prettily, averting her gaze to his vest, where she toyed with one of his buttons. “And there will be children.”

  He touched the underside of her chin with his finger, urging her to look up at him. He smiled down at her. “But first, cher, there must be lots of practicing.” He lifted her and carried her to the bed.

  “Good God, what’s that stench?”

  Half-dozing in the chair beside Reggie’s bed, Katherine jumped up at the sound of that dear, querulous voice. Reggie’s eyes were open, blinking against the small amount of sunshine peeking through the shuttered windows. After three days of uncertainty and fear, Katherine knew now that Reggie would live. She wanted to cry with happiness, but she laughed instead.

  “It’s either you or me, Reginald,” she said.

  He turned his face to her slowly, as if it still hurt a little. He squinted. “Where are my spectacles?”

  Katherine picked up Reggie’s spectacles from the bedside table and carefully put them on him. He took a moment to focus, then said, “You look like hell, Katherine.”

  She laughed again. “I know. I finally combed my hair—I think it was yesterday—but I’ve had very little time to fuss over my appearance, you see. I’ve been taking care of you.”

  Reggie’s brows lowered. He turned his head again, slowly, looking about the room as if he were trying to get his bearings. “This is my bedchamber, but where’s James? And what are you doing in here? I recall I had a headache…” He glanced down, and Katherine would have given a hundred dollars to have his expression etched in ink to keep forever. “My God!” he croaked. “Where are my clothes?”

  Katherine bit her lip to keep from laughing again and quickly covered him with a thin sheet. “Armande thought it best for you to remain uncovered. You were burning up with fever.”

  Mortified, his eyes averted, Reggie lifted a weak hand to tug distractedly on his mustache. “Who the hell is Armande?”

  “Your doctor. And I’ve been your nurse. You’ve had the yellow fever. There’s no need to be embarrassed by your nakedness—”

  “My God!” he choked out again.

  “—because I’ve only thought of you as a patient,” she lied. “I tried to keep you as clean as possible—”

  “May the saints preserve me!”

  “—but I’m quite sure you’ll want a bath. I know I do!”

  At Reggie’s startled look, Katherine stifled a giggle, saying, “Oh, don’t worry. I don’t plan to bathe you, or bathe with you. I’m convinced you don’t have the strength just yet for either eventuality.”

  “B’gad!”

  “Now that you’re over the crisis, I’ll call James to attend to your needs. Armande will be back shortly, too, and I know he’ll want to examine you thoroughly. And I can send word to Anne that it’s all right to come home. I know that will be good news to her. She’s been worried sick about you.”

  “Where is Anne?” Reggie managed to bluster, still tugging rather violently on his mustache.

  Katherine bustled about happily, tucking in his sheet, plumping his pillows. “She’s at Bocage.”

  Reggie concentrated, still a little woozy. “That’s Delacroix’s plantation, isn’t it?”

  “The very same. You’ll be happy to know she’s going to marry him.”

  “Marry who, for heaven’s sake?”

  “Why, Delacroix, of course. You always liked him. But I daresay there are a few things we’ll have to tell you before the wedding.”

  “The wedding? It’s already planned? How long have I been sick, Katherine?”

  “Three horrible days and nights.” Katherine stopped bustling and stood over Reggie, pushing a long, lank strand of hair out of her eyes. She couldn’t help it. She smiled like an idiot. “Oh, Reggie,” she gushed, “I’m so glad you’re alive!”

  Reggie looked up at a disheveled woman with dark circles under eyes that were bright with tears. He’d never seen anyone more beautiful or desirable in his life. And there he lay, naked, weak, as little able to make love as a eunuch. But he had to tell her something, and he had to tell her now. “Katherine,” he said. “I suspect that I owe you my life.”

  She shook her head, disclaiming any credit. It was just like her, he thought.

  “And despite all you’ve done for me already, I have to ask you for one more favor.”

  “What, Reggie? Do you want a drink? Are you hungry?”

  “No, my dear. I’m not hungry, I’m in love. With you, of all people.”

  “Reggie!”

  “And the favor I’m asking is this … Will you do me the honor of making me husband number four?”

  “You’re still delirious!”

  “No, I’ve never been more lucid in my life.”

  “Reggie!”

  Reggie now seemed in grave danger of being mauled. Mauling and being mauled was something he looked forward to once he got his strength back, and once he was properly bathed and scented. But not now. He held up his hands, and with a loving look warned his bride-to-be, “Not without my bath first, Katherine. Please send for James.”

  With much enthusiasm, Katherine left the room to look for James. The sooner Reggie bathed, the sooner she could kiss that dear old face of his.

  Epilogue

  Anne sat in the tiny cabin on the top deck of the River Belle waiting for her husband. It was the best cabin on the boat, according to the captain. But even for the best, it was small and the furnishings simple. They were traveling economically, saving their money to build a house and start a logging business in Hamilton, a booming little town in southeast Ontario.

  Anne loved the cabin because it was where she and Lucien would begin their honeymoon. At the last stop, Lucien had had the room filled with flowers picked from the local Tunica Hills: wild azalea, Indian pipe, cinnamon fern, and sunflowers. Anne was touched and thrilled by this romantic gesture and couldn’t wait to show her husband just how much she loved him.

  As she brushed her hair, she remembered the wedding. Or, she should say, the double wedding. Katherine and Reggie had tied the nuptial knot, too. It had been a simple affair in Aunt Katherine’s drawing room, attended by a select few.

  Lucien’s mother and sisters had come to the wedding, but his father and Etienne had chosen not to attend. This had not surprised Lucien, and he had refused to let it spoil his happiness. He had said fond farewells to his mother and sisters, philosophically resigned to the fact that he might never see them again.

  Their special day was not marred by concern over Jeffrey, either. He had taken Lucien’s threats seriously and left town the day after Bodine’s arrest.

  Katherine’s house had been sold practically overnight to a rich American who had coveted the elegant mansion for years. He bought everything Katherine would sell, including most of the furniture and artwork. Many of the servants stayed on, too. The things Katherine took with her were the treasures she’d collected in her travels, family paintings, and mementoes of her three previous marriages.

  Somehow in the shuffle, she’d left her cane behind. When Reggie had commented on this, she’d simply said, “Oh, I don’t need it. I never did, you know.”

  Katherine and Reggie planned to open a school in Hamilton. Lucien intended to hire for his logging establishment many former slaves who had escaped to Canada, and Katherine knew a school in the area would be needed to educate their children. It would be open to the French, the Indians, the blacks, and w
hoever else showed up.

  Armande was going to be the first physician in the primitive area, and Christian, recovering from the opium addiction and glad for a fresh start and the forgiveness of his friends, was going to assist him.

  Having brushed her hair to glossy softness, Anne changed into the nightgown Aunt Katherine had given her as a wedding present. The nightgown was beautiful, made of white silk with puffed sleeves and a low decolletage. In fact, it was very similar to the angel costume she’d worn to the Bouviers’ masquerade ball. As giddy as a schoolgirl, she arranged herself in an alluring pose on the bed and waited for Lucien.

  When he returned, he had in one large, beautiful hand a bottle of wine and two goblets, and in the other hand a half-dozen candles. His eyes lighted up when he saw her. “My naughty angel,” he said with satisfaction.

  She eyed him complacently. Lucien Delacroix was a presence to be reckoned with. He was very handsome, very masculine in a finely tailored black suit, with an ivory brocade vest and white shirt. “My dashing outlaw,” she replied.

  “Not anymore, Anne,” he said wryly, setting down the bottle and goblets, then filling a candelabra with the half-dozen candles. “Just plain Lucien.”

  “Just plain Lucien,” she repeated, smiling. “What a contrast in terms. There’s nothing plain about you, my dear husband.”

  He laughed, took off his neckcloth, then undid the first several buttons of his shirt, right down to the vee of his vest. Anne itched to thread her fingers through the dark swirls of hair that peeked from the open shirt. “I saw your aunt and uncle.”

  “Were they quarreling?”

  “No. They were headed for their cabin.” He waggled a brow. “The expressions on their faces suggested they were about to do some serious honeymooning.”

  “I’m so glad,” said Anne. “I wish everyone as much happiness as we have, Lucien.”

  He began lighting the candles, making the room as bright as day. “That’s a hard order to fill, Anne.”

  He turned to her, his dark, sultry eyes reflecting her own desire, then shrugged out of his jacket and unbuttoned his vest. Anne watched with avid interest. “Are you sure you won’t miss the outlaw, Anne?” he taunted her.

  She held out her arms and he came, sitting on the bed and pulling her against his chest. They kissed, the flame of passion flaring between them just as hotly as it always did. As their lips separated for an instant, she said breathlessly, “I won’t miss him, but I was wondering, Lucien…”

  “What were you wondering?”

  She dropped her eyes, a sly smile curving her lips, a brazen finger tracing a line down his bare chest. “Sometimes when we’re making love…”

  “Yes?”

  “And we’ve got nothing on but our smiles…”

  He chuckled. “Yes?”

  Her eyes lifted to his, playful sensuality reflected in their blue depths. “Could you … wear the mask?”

  More from Danice Allen

  Remember Me

  Secrets from a dark past threaten to destroy the promise of one man’s future.

  Out on a daring rescue mission, Amanda Darlington feels duty-bound to care for an unconscious gentleman after he stumbles drunkenly into the path of her carriage. Aware of the dangers in nursing a potential scoundrel back to health, she nevertheless takes a chance on the handsome stranger—especially when he awakens with no memory.

  When Jackson Montgomery comes to, he is greeted by a vision of beauty that instantly sparks the fire of passion within him. But as his memory returns, the shattering secrets hidden in his past threaten to destroy any chance he has of winning Amanda’s love. Only through feigned amnesia can Jackson capture Amanda’s heart, but can he do so before she learns the truth of his brazen charade and his dark past?

  The Perfect Gentleman

  He is supposed to be teaching her the ways of the world, but she may teach him the ways of love instead.

  Samantha Darlington is the illegitimate daughter of a respected man. Her father’s deepest shame and darkest secret, she has spent all of her seventeen years hidden away on a remote island. But when her half-sister, Amanda, discovers the truth of her existence, Samantha is rescued from her life of exile and thrust into a new world to be polished and educated. With the help of Amanda and the dashing and mysterious Julian Montgomery, Samantha will claim her rightful place in society.

  When Julian agreed to tame the rebellious Samantha in order to find her a suitable husband, he hadn’t anticipated that Samantha already had eyes for only one man—Julian himself. Now Samantha, determined to make Julian her own, is stirring up a frenzy in his elitist world—and his impenetrable heart.

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