Archer, Jane

by Tender Torment

  Alexandra's eyes hardened defiantly as she walked down the hall. Nothing could make her less than the lady she was, she decided, not even entertaining in a brothel. She followed her usual route down to the drawing room and saw the same beautiful girls with a group of men. These men were rarely the same, although a few of the faces had become familiar.

  Upon seeing Alexandra, Madame LeBlanc hurried to her. "You look supurb this evening, Alexandra. I had the gown made especially for you, and it was well worth the cost now that I see you in it."

  Alexandra smiled, her green eyes suspiciously watching her benefactress. "Thank you. It is lovely, although perhaps a bit revealing."

  Madame LeBlanc laughed. "Not on you, chérie. They will love you even more tonight. They already have named you the Ice Maiden."

  Alexandra raised her brows. "Ice Maiden? With this hair and gown?"

  "That's what is so confusing to them and also so challenging," Madame said, looking as sensual as usual in a clinging gown of pale blue.

  "But it's of no consequence to me. I'll soon be gone and they'll forget me quickly."

  "And Giles?"

  Alexandra shrugged.

  "Are you sure you will not change your mind, chérie, and join our little group here as one of the girls?"

  "No. I must get on to the Jarmon plantation. I will sing and play as usual—for tonight only."

  For a moment Alexandra thought she saw the dark eyes of Madame LeBlanc narrow in hate, but it lasted so brief a moment that Alexandra felt sure she must have been mistaken.

  "As you wish, ma chère."

  Alexandra then walked over to the piano which the musicians had vacated for her, knowing the pattern by now.

  She sat down, but before she could begin playing, Giles was at her side. "You are perfection itself tonight, chérie. I can hardly stand to be with you without taking you in my arms. But we'll save that for later, oui?"

  Alexandra looked up at him, and started to give him his usual no, but he was already gone, ordering champagne and wine for everyone. She shrugged her shoulders, glad that she was getting away from him. He was getting more forward and demanding all the time. Then forgetting where she was, she began playing. Tonight she didn't play strictly the popular tunes, but more of the classicals—those which were her favorites.

  Finally, when the evening had worn on into the early hours of the morning, Madame LeBlanc came to Alexandra holding a glass of bubbling champagne. She handed the glass to Alexandra.

  "I know you must be tired, chérie. Why don't you drink this? It'll help you sleep, then go on up to bed. You can use the rest, I'm sure, before starting your journey to the Jarmon plantation."

  "Thank you, Madame."

  Alexandra took the glass and began sipping the liquid. She didn't really want the champagne— she'd already had so much, but Madame LeBlanc stood there watching her.

  Pushing the piano bench back, Alexandra stood up, anxious for the privacy of her bedroom, and set the glass down on the piano. Madame LeBlanc picked up the glass and walked with Alexandra to the foyer. There, the madame smiled, but it did not extend to her eyes for they were cold and hard. Alexandra shook her head slightly, wondering why she suddenly felt so strange, so lightheaded, but attributed it to too much champagne.

  "Good night, Alexandra. Have pleasant dreams," Madame LeBlanc said.

  "Good night," Alexandra said, then started up the stairs, carefully holding onto the banister.

  With great relief, Alexandra found the door to her bedroom and shut it tightly behind her, clicking the lock into place. She felt quite strange. Her body felt hot and she was beginning to tingle and burn all over; nothing seemed quite clear any more. She sat down on the bed, the effort to undress almost too much for her.

  As she struggled to undo her bodice, a sound made her turn her head. Giles was walking toward her, a smug smile set on his face. Alexandra stared at him, vaguely wondering how he had gotten into her room. She had not heard the door open. She also wondered why she felt no surprise at seeing him there and why she was not demanding that he leave. But for some reason she was very aware of his body, and of the fact that she did not want him to go. Languidly, she stood up, feeling desire growing in herself like a power over which she had no control. She felt hot, flushed and she wanted, needed what this handsome, desirable man could give her. She held out her arms and he pulled her tightly against his hard chest; his hands were warm and exciting through the sheer fabric of her gown.

  Downstairs, Madame LeBlanc smiled smugly to herself; the man she had been awaiting had arrived. Her timing had been perfect, but then she knew this man well, at least as well as any woman could ever know him. He strode easily into the elegant drawing room, making the furnishings look suddenly too feminine, too gaudy. He overpowered the room, making it seem small and crowded, where before it had been intimate and cozy.

  There had never been another man like him, Madame LeBlanc thought. In all the times they'd been together, he had never tried to please her or even begin to love her. No, he was a man who took his pleasure, enjoying a woman for the moment. He was not a man to commit himself and yet, yet she had wanted him to love her, need her. He was the man she had always wanted. He was the only man who could satisfy her completely. Giles was good, but he was a gentleman and eccentric in his lovemaking. He could not fulfill her needs. This man was an animal. He needed no one except himself until—now.

  Madame LeBlanc watched his powerful, lithe body move toward her, his hard blue eyes quickly surveying the room. He was always aware, like the animal he was. Yet, he was well educated, a gentleman when he wanted to be. He was so like a hard, lean, young lion on the prowl with his tawny hair and spectacular body, but tonight she would tame the lion. He would finally feel the feline's claws, she thought, jealousy tearing at her. What did the little redhead have that attracted him so? She was nothing but a Yankee slut giving herself fancy airs. Well, he would know that soon enough now.

  "Jake, chérie," Madame LeBlanc purred as the tall man stopped before her.

  "Looking as lovely as ever, I see, Bella, and from your expression as calculating as ever, too."

  She frowned, then smiled coyly up at him. "You always temper your compliments, don't you, Jake?"

  He laughed. "Only when necessary, my dear. Now—"

  "I thought you'd return earlier," she said as she guided him toward a table and poured him a glass of champagne.

  "Do you have the clothes, Bella? I'm short of time. I've been busy ever since I got back. It's the first chance I've had to stop by."

  "Then you haven't been to the ship?"

  "No. Why?"

  "I think I might have a little surprise for you."

  "Good God, Bella! I don't need any surprises."

  "Do you plan to spend the night here with me, Jake?"

  "I haven't got time, you know that."

  "You just used me to buy clothes for your girl, that Alexandra."

  Jake frowned, his face menacing, and she knew she had gone too far. Jake had a devil of a temper. He had killed men for angering him. "I'm sorry, Jake. It's just that I'm jealous of any other woman with you."

  His face looked only a little less severe when he said, "You've never been jealous in your life, Bella. There's only one person you're concerned with and that's yourself. Don't try to make me think otherwise. We've known each other too well, too long for that."

  She pursed her pretty lips, pouting. "Why don't you take me with you now, instead of that—"

  "I'm going to Texas, Bella—permanently. You don't belong there. It's too wild, untamed. You like all this; you need it," he said, his eyes sweeping the opulent room.

  "So, I can't help it if I was born a quadroon in New Orleans."

  "No, but you made plenty of it. And now with the carpetbaggers you're doing quite well, aren't you? They don't know you're quadroon, do they, Bella?"

  She shrugged. "Why should they?"

  Jake nodded his head and smiled sardonically.

  "Y
ou won't tell them, will you, Jake?" she asked, suddenly anxious.

  "No, I'm going to Texas. It'll be a while before I get back."

  She pouted again. "I could make it in Texas. You just won't marry me because I'm quadroon, but I could pass as white—you know that. And I'm more beautiful, more skilled than any white wo- man, even that Alexandra. I could have gone up North and passed like the other quadroon girls did. They had little other choice when their protectors went off to war, but I've stayed, Jake, waiting for you to finally realize how good we are together."

  Jake frowned. He had never known Bella to talk like this before. She had always taken the times they had together in as much fun as he had, but she had never asked anything of him. Marriage? She would make a terrible wife and she would never survive even six months in Texas—unless she was pampered in a brothel. She wasn't strong like Alexandra, or a fighter. No, Bella was a Southern quadroon, a beautiful ornament, born and bred to be a Southern gentleman's mistress. There was nothing else she could, or would even want to do.

  Finally, Jake said, "Look, Bella, you knew from the first that we'd never marry. I'm not a marrying man."

  "What about this Alexandra?"

  "What makes you think I'll marry her? I want a woman in Texas. There are few enough there, and she's strong and determined enough to make it. Stay where you belong, Bella. Don't come to Texas. Now, where are the clothes?" he asked, suddenly eager to be gone as he thought of the golden-red hair and furious green eyes that he'd left locked in his cabin.

  He had been too long without her. Even for all her fighting him, in the end she had wanted him as much as he wanted her. Christ! He had never wanted a woman like he wanted this one. He knew nothing about her, but that didn't matter. She belonged to him and he'd never let another man touch her. He became furious every time he thought of that Yankee raping her, raping her to force a marriage. He should have been her first.

  Thinking of Alexandra made his blood stir and he cursed to himself, wanting to be rid of Bella and New Orleans. He wanted Alexandra and Texas now more than anything. He didn't love her, but there was something about her that made him forget other women. No, whatever the reason for his desires, he didn't love her. That was impossible. She was a wildcat and hated him. That made him laugh to himself. She hated and yet wanted him at the same time, although she would admit nothing except her hatred for him. Well, it would be fun to tame the wildcat. She and Texas would go well together.

  "Well, do you want to see my surprise, or are you going to stand there with your pants bulging all night. You know, other women can relieve that besides that redheaded bitch," Bella said sharply. She'd never seen Jake like this before; her revenge would be all the sweeter.

  "I don't have time for surprises, Bella."

  Madame LeBlanc smiled her inscrutable smile, knowing that her revenge soon would be complete. Like all white men, Jake had never understood her, the quadroon woman—part French, Spanish, and a little Negro—whose heritage was steeped in the dark African jungles as well as sophisticated Europe. They were complex in their heritage, resorting to the use of either past to gain their end. Men loved their dark, sensual beauty carefully wrapped in European civilization, but they had coveted and lusted after their wild, uninhibited African blood. Bella would use whatever came her way, employing voodoo as well as Christianity to secure her revenge. Jake and Alexandra must be kept apart at any cost and Bella had made her plans well.

  "You have time for this surprise, Jake. Come upstairs with me. The clothes are there and something else—" she said, letting her words trail off as she led him up the stairs.

  Reluctantly, Jake followed. He only wanted the clothes and to be done with Bella. He was done with the South, too. There was nothing for a man here and when the carpetbaggers had finished taking everything, there would be nothing left for the Southerners except poverty and death. He hardly noticed Madame LeBlanc's sensually swaying body as she led him up the stairs and into her suite. Smiling smugly at him, she led him through several rooms to a small dark closet. Before going in she turned to him and said,

  "You say this Alexandra has most unusual hair—reddish-blonde and is quite beautiful?"

  Jake hesitated, then looked at Bella more closely. She was full of tricks, but what now? "That's right."

  "That's very interesting," she said, her large black eyes shining. "I'd like you to see the couple in this bedroom. I don't know, of course, but I think you might be interested."

  Jake frowned, then said, his anger growing, "All right, then no more games. I'm in a hurry."

  They went into the small dark closet and she pulled the tapestry back for him. She'd had him watch these performances before, but they did little for him. He was a man of action. Putting his eye up to the small hole, he had a clear view of the bed, a close view, too.

  There was a fiery orange gown on the floor with a matching chemise and a man's clothing, too. He grinned to himself as he watched the couple. Bella had really gotten a wanton with this woman for she was fairly consuming the man.

  Suddenly, he started. The covers had been partially concealing their faces. He let out a string of oaths as he realized, hardly daring to believe, that Alexandra was wrapped in Giles' arms, welcoming him, begging him for what she had always rejected, fought against, from him. There was no doubt that it was them. Anger and hate flared in him until he saw their writhing, sweaty bodies in a red haze of fury. Yet, he could not tear his eyes away as Giles pulled Alexandra up toward him while she moaned, clutching, demanding his body, and then thrust deeply into her. Something seemed to tear apart inside of Jake and he turned blindly from the peephole, knocking Bella aside.

  She glanced once into the room, confirming what she knew to be happening, then followed Jake's long, angry strides across her suite. Finally, she caught up with him in her bedroom and grabbed his arm, hanging on as he tried to throw her off.

  "Well, Jake, could that have been the lovely Alexandra?"

  She abruptly dropped his arm, stepping back in fright as he stopped and looked down at her. She had never seen a man so full of cold, unrelenting rage in her life and it was now directed at her. She was afraid. What had she done? Had she gone too far?

  Controlling himself, Jake said coldly, precisely, "You are not mistaken, Bella. That is, indeed, Alexandra and Giles. How she came to be here with him, I don't know, or care. I am sure that you have somehow managed it, but not without their cooperation. The lovely Alexandra will not go with me to Texas."

  He turned and strode angrily from the room.

  Madame LeBlanc did not follow him. She was too afraid. He was quite capable of killing someone in his present rage. Then she smiled wickedly to herself. Her plans had worked. Jake would forever hate Alexandra as a deceiving whore. Her revenge was sweet, very sweet, but still it was only the beginning. Perhaps, sometime soon she might consider a brothel in Galveston. She knew they did well there and she knew several of the madames for she had procured girls for them frequently. Yes, now that Alexandra was out of the way, she could consider her plans for Jake once more. Laughing to herself, she stretched out languidly on her bed. Life was good, very good indeed.

  Alexandra had never felt so strangely in her life. She knew that Giles was thrusting deeply within her, and that she needed him, wanted him with a strange burning that she had never felt before. She clawed at his shoulders, moaning in desire and frustration as he continued his deep penetrating movements. But she could not seem to get enough and yet it all seemed hazy, foggy as if she were not on the bed with a man she'd never wanted before, had never even allowed to touch her before. Now, suddenly, this evening, she accepted everything he did to her, wanting only more, and nothing could seem to satisfy the ache that burned in her loins. Oh, what was happening to her? She opened her eyes slightly as she began to feel herself slide toward the point that would bring her release and her eyes met those of Giles. They were black with passion, triumph. Then she felt him penetrate her finally and she cried out in ecstasy as sh
e plummeted through a gateway of fire.

  When she returned, she still felt the strange emptiness in her loins. It could not be satisfied, nothing could fulfill her, and she ached with frustration and unhappiness. Giles came toward her as if in a dream, completely nude, with a glass in his hand. She drank. It was thick, sweet, and faintly bitter. He took the glass from her hand, and she thought she saw evil in his eyes, but even as she tried to shake away the picture, she felt herself grow dizzy, tired, and then finally she slipped into dark oblivion.

  Chapter 13

  Alexandra lay in bed, not daring to move for fear the dizziness in her head and the nausea in her stomach would overcome her. Gradually, as she lay still, the feelings passed and she began to think clearly once more. The last she remembered was her strange passion for Giles. She was unable to forget her boldness and desire—hardly believing it had happened.

  She had to leave the brothel. She could trust Madame LeBlanc no longer. She had obviously helped Giles get into her bedroom. How much had Giles paid for her body, she wondered.

  Deciding to test her strength, Alexandra started to lift herself from the bed. She gasped with shock. She wasn't in the brothel. She'd never seen this room before. It was a bedroom, true, but it was done in pale, harmonious colors and elegant taste, although everything about the room suggested a slow decay.

  "It's all right, dear, Don't be afraid," a soft voice said.

  Alexandra jerked her head around. A small woman sat in a rocking chair near Alexandra's bed, smiling softly. The diffused sunlight came in through windows behind the woman, casting a golden glow on her still body. A soft, moist, warm breeze moved the sheer white curtains back and forth in front of the windows. And it was absolutely quiet. There was no sound to be heard. Alexandra shuddered. It was an eerie place to her, a place that didn't seem quite alive and yet not quite dead. Where could she be?