Lynette Vinet - Emerald Trilogy 02

by Emerald Enchantment

  Walking arm in arm, they went to their bedroom where she unleashed all the love she felt for, him, surprising him with her intensity. Even after Quint had fallen asleep, she laid beside him with her arms clasped about him and wondered just how much time was left to them.

  30

  The afternoon sun warmed the late spring day as Daniel waited for Allison. Anticipation filled him, and he hoped she had decided to marry him. Of course, she had to divorce Paul, but that shouldn’t be too difficult since Paul had abandoned her.

  At night in his room, Daniel had been secretly painting a portrait of Allison to present as a wedding gift. He knew this was his masterpiece, but he also knew he could never sell it. Each brush stroke spoke of his love, each pastel hue colored his perception of her, and he knew that once she saw the painting, she’d realize the depth of his love and commitment to her.

  His gaze drifted towards the Shannon then back to the pathway where he now saw her approaching. She wore only a shawl over her gown, appearing quite different from the Allison he had met months ago. Childbirth had enhanced her beauty. Where her breasts had been small, they were now full. Her slenderness was still apparent, but now curves replaced the straight lines of waist and hips. In short, Allison’s figure had grown voluptuous and could turn the head of many a man. “You’ll catch a chill in that flimsy thing,” Daniel said, touching the shawl as she stepped inside the gazebo.

  “You worry over me too much.”

  “That’s because I love you and never want any harm to come to you.”

  “Oh, Daniel,” her voice broke on his name.

  A shadow fell across his smiling face. “You don’t wish to marry me,” he said.

  “I can’t. It wouldn’t be fair to you, and believe me, I do care for you, but I never lied about my true feelings. You always knew I was in love with Paul.”

  He grasped her shoulders. “But I can make you love me like that. Please let me try.” The warmth of his lips met hers, but she moved her head away.

  “Don’t make it any harder than it is already,” she said gently. “I’m leaving for Canada in the morning with Howard Granger. I’ve asked him to accompany me to his uncle’s house in Quebec where Paul and Constance are staying. I pray that Paul will return with me.”

  Raw pain was reflected in his eyes. “But I thought you loved me! If not, then what did that letter mean? You asked me to come for you.”

  Tears formed in her eyes as she realized just how deeply she had hurt him. “I’m sorry Daniel, truly ashamed. I didn’t think rationally when I wrote you; I acted on impulse and ruined your happiness and mine. Please try to forgive me.”

  His face darkened, and he drew away from her, lifting himself to his full height and dwarfing her. “No, Allison. I’ll never forgive you or stop loving you. But if you must find my brother, then go. However, I won’t be here for the happy homecoming.”

  He spun away, not even looking back as he heard her sobs and entreaties for forgiveness. In that moment, he decided he’d never fall foolishly in love again. There were too many eager women in the world who would gladly share his bed, yet he hoped that one day a woman would love him as Allison loved Paul.

  Allison sank onto the wooden bench and tearfully watched Daniel depart, knowing that she’d probably not see him for a long time, if ever. But she had made up her mind to bring Paul home, and no one or nothing would stop her.

  31

  The castle-like structure of Chateau Saint Louis gleamed in the morning sun. From Allison’s vantage point, she discerned that the sun’s warming rays were melting the snow on the pitched roofs of lower town Quebec. Turning away from the picturesque scene outside the window as a caleche trotted down the narrow street of the old walled city, she faced Constance.

  “So you’re convinced that Paul took off for the wilderness as a trapper. Really, I thought you could at least be more imaginative.”

  Constance’s gaze cut through her. “Why should I lie now? The bastard no sooner arrived in Quebec than he left me. I don’t take kindly to being used!”

  Allison appraised the raven-haired woman who paced back and forth in agitation. Clearly, Constance hadn’t gotten over the fact that Paul had left Ireland with her, then rejected her as soon as they arrived in Quebec. Allison found it difficult to believe, but there was no reason for Constance to lie now—unless she was protecting him by keeping Allison away from him.

  “If you don’t believe me, ask Uncle Kevin. He was here the day of our arrival and watched Paul take off for the hinterlands. “

  Allison felt quite the fool to have come all this distance, only to learn that her husband had disappeared three months ago. How in the name of heaven would she find him? Canada was a vast wilderness, and she didn’t know where to begin. Obviously, Paul didn’t want to be found but was running away from everything.

  Allison seated herself on the sofa next to Howard, who immediately took her hand. “We should return to Ireland, my dear. Perhaps in time you’ll forget this disastrous marriage of yours and accept the fact that I love you and want to marry you.” He kissed her fingertips.

  “Stop play acting.” Constance glared at her brother. “The little fool will never consent to wed you. She, like me, was taken in by Paul, and I truly hope she finds him.” Her venomous gaze settled on Allison. “You deserve every horrid thing he’s done to you. If it hadn’t been for you, Paul would have loved me and not had to run away from Ireland. I detest you, but I’m not going to pine for Paul. I can have any man I desire. Just like that!” She snapped her fingers. “Captain John Milligan has proposed to me, and I have decided to accept. At least, with him, I feel desired.” She rushed from the room.

  Allison pitied her. Paul had hurt Constance a great deal.

  Howard sighed. “You mustn’t pay any attention to Constance when she gets in one of her tempers. She never really loved Paul. The only perverse reason she wanted him was because he never showed any interest in her.”

  The clock on the mantel chimed the hour as fluffy white clouds drifted past the windows. Allison again wondered how she would find Paul, and when she voiced this to Howard, he looked puzzled. “I can’t think why you wish to go after the bounder. “

  She couldn’t suppress a smile. “I love him, and I believe he loves me.”

  Howard’s earlier tenderness vanished, and his hand twisted around hers. “I heard enough of that during the voyage. You knew I wanted to make love to you, but you constantly put me off.” His eyes froze over. “One day I will take you to my bed. I’ll not rest until you’re mine.”

  She withdrew her hand from his painful grasp and crossed to the fireplace, but Howard followed. “I want your heart, your soul, your body. Allison, let me love you.” His mouth came down hard upon hers, demanding and cruel. Never could she love Howard, and now she hated herself for asking him to accompany her to Quebec.

  Moving her mouth away, she rejected any further kisses. “Howard, please stop.” He had taken her breath away, nearly suffocating her with the hold he had around her waist.

  “If you don’t find Paul, will you marry me?”

  His breath was on her face, and the urgency of his voice, stunned and appalled her. “Don’t ask me such a question, Howard.”

  “Suppose Paul is dead? Will you marry me?”

  His question infuriated her so much that she pushed him away. “No, I won’t marry you and Paul isn’t dead! I’d know it, feel it somehow. Just leave me alone, Howard, please!”

  Allison dashed to her room, relieved to be free of his pawing but shattered by the thought that Paul could be dead. At that moment, his lifeless body could be lying somewhere in the wilderness or he could be hurt with no one to help him. What did Paul know about trapping? But again what did she know about Paul?

  “I must find him,” she muttered and wondered how she would do this. How could she urge him to come home when she hadn’t the slightest inkling where to search?

  Just then a copy of the Quebec Gazette caught her eye. She
picked it up from the table and quickly scanned the contents, realizing she had the answer. She’d place an advertisement in the paper for a guide, someone to help her find Paul.

  ~

  To Howard’s chagrin, Allison interviewed a handful of qualified guides and finally settled on Angus McPhee, a Scotsman who had extensive knowledge of the wilderness and the rivers. Not only did she trust his expertise but genuinely liked him, knowing she’d be safe in his competent hands. However, Howard had other ideas.

  “I forbid you to traipse off with a stranger, Allison, and I know that if your aunt were alive, she’d feel the same and put a stop to it.”

  Flouncing into the parlor, she poured herself a cup of tea then sat down on the couch. “Aunt Cecelia is dead, and I gather she has decided to remain so. Anyway, her opinion would be of little consequence, as is yours.” She sipped the brew. “I shall find Paul. Mr. McPhee has assured me that I’ll find him. Many of the trappers meet along the way at forts and trading posts. I’m certain Paul will be among them.”

  He scowled at her, and she found it difficult to believe that he had her best interests at heart. “You’re so naive sometimes,” he remarked none too gently.

  “No, just a woman in love.” She tried to maintain her calm but Howard was making it increasingly difficult. “Mr. McPhee and I leave in a week. By then I do hope you can be more civil.”

  Sitting next to her, he placed his arm around her shoulder like a solicitous suitor. “I’m thinking only of your welfare. I’m certain that McPhee is a stalwart soul but do you think you’ll be safe from nature and the savages? I insist that you allow me to accompany you. I know your aunt would have wished it. Besides, you have two children at home who need their mother safely returned to them.”

  Allison was practical enough to admit that Howard would be added protection. She placed her cup on the side table and turned to him with resignation. “Thank you for your offer, and I accept it. However, there is one stipulation.”

  He quirked an eyebrow.

  “Please stop all your prattle about devotion and love. I’m honored you care so deeply for me, but my heart belongs to my husband.”

  “That will be hard to do, my sweet.” He inched closer to her, ready to cage her in his arms, but she jumped up.

  Her eyes frosted over with contempt. “I demand your promise!”

  “You’re a hard taskmaster, my love, but I bow to your terms.”

  “Then we have a bargain which I expect you to keep. You see, Howard, I don’t exactly believe you cherish me for myself but rather for Fairfax Manor. “

  “Fairfax Manor is important to me only because it is part of you. I desire you and wish to marry you, but I shall do as you request. No further talk of love.”

  “Thank you,” she stiffly responded. “Now for the trip, Mr. McPhee advised sturdy clothes.”

  Howard obediently listened to her instructions, but his mind wandered. He sincerely doubted if they’d even find Paul, but suppose they did, what then? Paul’s demise was imminent but how to do it. Howard had never been good at fencing, and Paul was a master, having learned the art from an expert duelist in New Orleans. This he knew from their university days.

  He decided to cross that bridge when he came to it. For the moment, he enjoyed looking at Allison, especially the rounded globes nearly popping from her bodice. He was grateful to Paul for one thing. Under his hands, she had blossomed into a goddess. She was a mouth-watering delicacy whom Howard aimed to taste.

  32

  “Ah, lassie, it’s been a long time since I’ve been home. I can still smell the heather and see the lochs. But I’ve had a bonny time in my life and would not give up my wandering ways.” Angus McPhee paddled with long, easy strokes, never breaking the tempo, though Allison guessed him to be tired by now. Howard helped every so often, and she took over when he wearied. But the small, powerfully built Scotsman kept on, barely aware of anything but the movement of the current, the unpredictability of the weather. Allison found Angus, who had the longest beard she’d ever seen, to be pleasant company, always regaling her with stories of his homeland or his years in the wilderness.

  “Been nigh on to forty-five years since I left Scotland and come here, but I’ve never regretted a minute of it.”

  “Didn’t you ever wish to marry, to have children?” Allison queried.

  Angus blushed beneath the copious beard. “I once had an Indian squaw for a wife, a real fine woman she was, but she died of a fever twenty years ago. Never had much leaning towards a wife since. Ties a person down too much.”

  “You mean you were never legally wed?” Allison couldn’t suppress the question.

  “Aye, lassie, but out here a paper of marriage means naught. It’s no lasting union when the man must travel. I’m a trapper first, and that’s all I aim to be until I die.”

  Allison looked towards the direction they were heading. Lake Ontario gleamed a sapphire blue, and thick forests surrounded them. A few nights earlier they had rested in Montreal at a small inn, and Allison wished she now had that same bed. But she had been too keyed up to sleep though they had been traveling for days. Her thoughts were of Paul, and she prayed to find him safe and hopefully pleased to see her.

  She stretched a bit in the canoe, carefully managing not to nudge Howard. Since their departure, he had been rather surly, and she guessed he was now sorry he had asked to accompany her. He didn’t openly complain, but his face showed resentment. There was nothing to push him on, like her dogged determination to find Paul.

  Allison wondered what Paul would think of the garb she now wore. Gone were the pretty silk gowns and fur capes. In their stead was a pair of boy’s pants she had managed to wheedle from a kitchen boy at Uncle Kevin’s, along with a shirt which was much too tight across her breasts. Reluctantly, the boy had also provided boots and a heavy jacket for the chilly nights, but the gold pieces she offered him more than repaid him for his loss.

  Since the canoe could only hold basics like food and supplies, she had to leave her personal belongings in Quebec. She hadn’t wanted to return to the house on the cliff, but now she’d probably be forced to when she and Paul returned. If she returned with Paul…

  From the growling sounds emanating from her stomach, she knew it was nearly evening, and they’d make camp soon. Hopefully, they’d catch a large trout for supper.

  Allison dozed, feeling a brisk wind on her face, but suddenly the breeze grew harsher, rousing her.

  “Uh oh,” Angus said, glancing at the sky which had turned from peaceful blue to angry black. “We’re in for a bad one.”

  He advised them to hold tight while he attempted to make for the shore. The water began churning violently around them. For horrified moments Allison imagined the lake as a huge hand, ready to clutch them from the safety of the canoe. The surface settled down somewhat, but all too soon a pummeling rain poured down and the wind rose again, pushing the small canoe farther and farther off course.

  She heard Howard’s shouting for her to cover herself with his coat, but she was too terrified to move. Angus seemed to have lost control of the canoe, and the more he paddled, the least difference it made. Huge waves lifted them up then dropped them harshly down.

  “Dearest Lord!” she heard Angus’ terrified shout as a huge wave struck them and toppled the canoe into the swirling, treacherous water.

  Allison had never been a strong swimmer, but she somehow managed to keep from going under. Not so for Angus; immediately the lake claimed the old man as a victim. Howard swam with all his might toward her but was carried away from her by the swift current. Rain pummeled her and waves hammered at her, and she had no alternative but to move with the current instead of resisting it.

  She moved with the current, frantically paddling to the nearby shore when a huge rock blocked her path and she knew there was no escape.

  “Paul!” she screamed, but she couldn’t swim around it. The moment she hit, she ceased to feel the icy arms of Lake Ontario.

&n
bsp; ~

  Firelight played over Allison’s face. Even with her eyes closed, she was aware of the pirouetting flames, leaping and spinning like dancers in the ballet. Slowly, she opened her eyes.

  The first thing she saw was a ceiling, built from rough-hewn logs. Then her gaze traveled down the wall and rested on a brown and white collie curled beside the fireplace. The animal seemed to sense her gaze, and raising its head, its large brown eyes looked inquiringly at her, its tail thumping on the earthen floor.

  Watching the dog, Allison realized she was on eye level with the animal. She found she reclined on the floor and was wrapped in layers of fur. She thought she should move, but found it difficult to concentrate on anything save the dog.

  A large, dark shadow suddenly loomed over her and startled her. She barely breathed as a man bent down, his intent gaze taking in all of her. His long, tanned face broke into a smile. “Mademoiselle, I am pleased to see you are awake. How do you feel?”

  She didn’t feel fear. In fact she didn’t truly feel anything but the warmth of the furs and fire. When she didn’t immediately speak, he stepped away for a moment then returned with a cup. Sitting on his haunches, he offered it to her. “You must drink.”

  She allowed him to lift her head a bit from the pallet and drank of the cool water. When she finished, he gently eased her back down. His hand reached out and touched her forehead. “You took quite a blow, Mademoiselle. How is your head tonight?”

  Allison tentatively touched her forehead, felt a huge lump. She started to sit up, but a searing pain cut through her brain and she fell back, groaning in agony.

  “Don’t move again.” She heard his voice through the fog of pain and felt his steady, sure hands on her temples, positioning her head once more. When the pain abated, she was able to open her eyes and look at him.

  His mouth curved into a smile, enhancing the handsomeness of his dark-skinned face. The firelight glowed upon his ebony hair which was cut to the nape of his neck. The dog moved over towards them, sniffing at her face.