Reluctantly, Brace lowered his hands. He did not want to speak the next words, but knew he had no choice. “We can’t. All we can do is run away. Would you so willingly leave Devonairre? Could you turn your back on your heritage so quickly? Can you walk away from everything your father strove to build and to leave for you? Do you think I could let you?” he added in a lower voice.
“Brace ...” she whispered, knowing that his words were the truth. “I love you.”
“As I love you. No, Elyse, we can’t run away from who we are.”
Then that same fierce determination that had risen within Elyse, first in England, and then again, after she and Brace had made love, returned to give her more hope. “But we will. I know that one day soon, we will be together.”
“Who are they?” Brace asked, his eyes probing her face
“They?” Her brows knitted at the question. “I don’t know who they are. Lucea said, ‘They are here.’”
“Then why did you turn almost white when she spoke to you?”
“She frightened me.”
Brace gazed at her for a long moment before warily accepting what she told him. Within her face, he saw the vulnerability and wanted to draw her to him, hold her tight, and protect her from whatever it was she feared. Instead, he smiled sadly at her. “It’s late.”
“Don’t leave me tonight,” she pleaded.
Fighting off this newest assault on his willpower, Brace drew himself straight. “Good night, Elyse.”
Elyse watched him go, her heart pounding with her unrequited plea. “Good night, Brace,” she called to his back. She did not go to the house; rather, she stood where she was until the darkness of the night swallowed him.
When he was gone, Elyse knew she could not face the emptiness of her bedroom. Turning, she too walked into the night, but her feet carried her along a different path than his. Later, when she looked up, she found herself at the edge of the trees bordering the beach of Bluefish Bay.
In the very sands of the place where she had arrived, not three months ago, Elyse sat and let her mind wander. As the night wore on, so did her thoughts.
“They are here!” Lucea had said. “Beware, they are here.”
Elyse tried to convince herself Lucea’s trancelike mumblings meant nothing, but by the time the moon had set, leaving the night sky deserted, she was certain of Lucea’s meaning. There was only one way to think of it. They—Elizabeth and Carl—were in Jamaica. They hadn’t given up—they hadn’t let her go.
I’m safe here. They can’t hurt me now, she told herself. Yet her thoughts denied her any comfort. She knew her aunt and uncle too well. If Lucea was right, and they had followed her here, they were planning to harm her so that they could claim the estate for themselves.
Elyse shook away the alarming thoughts of her ex-guardians, making herself believe they could not steal her property from her. It is too late; I am the owner of Devonairre and inheritor of all Father’s estate.
Elyse sat on the sand and stared out toward the dark horizon. Her mind traveled along a thousand avenues, seeking to understand what was happening to her life, until at last, when the sun rose in the east, Elyse stood and cast a final look at the gently rolling waters of the Caribbean Sea and rose to face the new day.
Chapter Nineteen
Since the night that Colleen had ridden from Brace’s plantation, not a waking moment had passed without her bitter thoughts focusing on him. His rejection of her love had been a hard blow, especially since he’d been the only man to whom she had ever freely given herself.
Brace’s rejection had festered within her mind, turning her thoughts sour, and making her seek a way of retribution against the man who cast her out so cruelly. She blamed Brace for having to whore again, and face a life of harsh toiling without a chance to find happiness.
Her anger had turned inward over the weeks, burrowing deep within her, where it lay festering behind a facade of uncaring abandon. Yet never a man entered the inn that she did not look over, to see if he might be her avenue of escape.
When the three English visitors arrived ten days before, Colleen had sensed a darkness hovering about them, a darkness matching the one within her soul. She sensed, without knowing how or why, that these three newcomers were here for no good, and that they just might be the means of her salvation.
So, Colleen watched them carefully whenever she could, and even now, as she cleaned a recently vacated table, she listened to their talk, as she did whenever the opportunity arose.
They let everyone know that they’d come to Jamaica for a tour of the island and were seeking investments; Colleen was not so certain. That they were of the ruling class, she had no doubts, for invitations from the planters poured in daily.
At the inn, as with most people of the upper class, Colleen noted they took people around them for granted—the shopkeepers, serving people, and the servants themselves.
For Colleen this was normal, and because of the way they acted, it gave her a chance to keep herself within hearing distance so she could listen intently to their conversations, trying to learn if what she sensed about them was right.
She was aware, too, of the way the younger man looked at her. His hooded eyes were closed to others, but Colleen saw within them a burning of dark desires, and was but waiting for the proper time to play upon them. She smelled the money that seemed to be a part of him, and knew that only with money could she escape from the island.
In bits and snatches, Colleen learned who and why they were here. Gradually, she discovered the three were plotting against another. Before she could put her newfound knowledge to use, she needed to find out the name of their intended victim. She knew only that it was a woman.
Colleen looked around the dimly lit main room of the inn. Except for the three guests, it was deserted. The last customer had stumbled out just after midnight. There were no ships in the harbor tonight, and business had been slow all week.
Her father had left earlier, telling Colleen to close up after the three went to their rooms. She didn’t mind doing so tonight, for it gave her a chance to eavesdrop without her father seeing.
Noticing that the young man’s glass was empty, Colleen left the shadowed corner and approached their table. She stopped next to him, smiling with a knowing look. “Another?” she asked.
She waited while his eyes raked along her face and then went to the ample supply of her breasts. Slowly, the man nodded. Turning to the others, she arched her eyebrows. The woman shook her head, the heavyset man nodded.
Gathering the empty glasses, she returned to the bar, where she filled them with the expensive brandy her father stocked for such guests.
At the table, she placed herself sideways to the younger man. While she served the drinks, his hand grazed her outer thigh. Instead of pulling away, she pressed against it.
A lingering moment later, she stepped back, smiled at him, turned, and walked away. Behind her, the woman spoke. “Can you not hold your twisted lust in check?”
“I would not have to hold anything back, if you had done your job in the first place!”
“Without us, you are nothing!” she spat.
The younger man smiled. “And without me, the same applies to you, dear lady.”
“Leave the serving girl alone. We cannot call attention to ourselves,” Carl interjected.
Jeremy Hollingsby laughed loudly. “What do you call the parties and dinners we’ve been attending? Quiet evenings with a friend?”
Elizabeth’s breath hissed out. “They are necessary. We’ve been feeling out the mood of the island. When we move, none will stop us. All will think us innocent.”
“Until we reach Kingston and the acting governor,” Hollingsby stated.
“He’s a greedy man. He has but a few months to make whatever coin he can before the governor returns. He will do as we agreed.”
“Can you be that certain? After all, he did reject the orders from the High Judge in London. Rejected them outright!” Hollin
gsby challenged irritably.
“For two reasons: first, because he seeks money; second, because of that damned barrister’s legal papers giving over the inheritance. Is it not worth spending a few more nights on this godforsaken island to have those papers canceled?”
“But that is only the first step. Even when she is in in your custody, the courts will require annual accountings. Without the marriage to me, you will still be poor and at her mercy.”
Hollingsby’s words, spoken with such stiff intensity, made Colleen catch her breath. Tonight she was learning a great deal, but still not enough. Who is the woman they speak of?
“The marriage shall take place. Have no fear. Once she is fully in our hands, and the vows spoken, you will have your money and your little virgin, too.”
“And you will have the benefits of your brother’s vast wealth and properties—without the bother of your niece.”
“But first we must get her away from here!” Carl stated.
“And for that we need help,” Hollingsby reminded them. “We need someone who knows the back ways through the island, someone to guide us, or get us a guide back to Kingston.”
“Patience,” Elizabeth said, “I will find someone.”
Colleen’s mind raced with the things she had learned. She concentrated on every word, deliberating carefully on everything, including the inflections of the speakers. She knew there had been something important in their conversation, a clue she needed to figure out. She left the shadowed area where she had been pretending to clean a table, and started toward the bar, her thoughts whirling madly.
At the bar, Colleen turned to look at the trio and saw them rise. Then she realized the Englishman was staring at her. She smiled slowly and let the tip of her tongue trace the outline of her lips.
In that moment, the conversations of the past ten days coalesced in her mind; tonight’s additional information brought everything to culmination. It took all of her self-control to keep her face from showing the shock of her knowledge. “Your brother’s vast wealth and properties… without the bother of your niece…” had been the words that made everything come together. Devonairre!
She lifted her head to find the English lord walking toward her, open desire written in his eyes as they raked across her breasts. She knew her own eyes were shining with desire, too, but that desire wasn’t for the man; rather, it was for what she sensed the man could do for her.
*****
Brace stood on the small veranda outside his bedroom and studied the night. In his left hand was a snifter, untasted since he’d poured the brandy half an hour ago.
He’d spent the day alone, deep in thought, trying to put into perspective the vacillating emotions that refused him peace. Never before had a woman affected him as Elyse Louden did. He loved her, but it was more than that. The afternoon at the mountain pool had taught him so. When they made love, he gave himself fully, knowing she had done the same with him.
Although desire and passion played a strong part in their relationship, there were other things equally as important—her gentleness, the graceful way she walked; he reveled in her smile and in the way her large green eyes studied him when she thought him unaware. There was magic in the way her hair flowed behind her, shimmering in the sun, and the curves of her mouth were as beautiful as the sweeping arches of her brows.
Closing his eyes, Brace shook away the vision of Elyse. He ached for her touch with a need that was a physical pain, but a pain to which he would not yield.
Brace was torn as never before. All his life he’d followed a path he’d set for himself. He’d planned everything down to the last detail, knowing that one day he would be free of the haunting ghosts of his past and his birth. He would be gone from Jamaica, and the social system, which held him down.
With Elyse’s return, his well-thought-out plans had become the ashes of an all-consuming fire. He wanted her, but not as someone to satisfy his passions; he wanted her with him always, at his side, sharing a full life together.
He knew she could not leave Jamaica and everything that was so much a part of her. Nor would he ask her. Although he sensed she would, he would never ask her to sacrifice everything she had in the name of love.
He understood well, that he stood upon the crossroads of his life, the intersection of his plans and his emotions, and must make the decision that would decide his future. Although he didn’t want to admit it, he knew there was but one choice for him. He must leave—not only Devonairre, but Jamaica, as well. As long as he stayed near Elyse, he would want her and she would want him.
Brace shook his head, and as he was about to turn to go inside, caught a glimpse of a fleeting, white shape walking along the tree-lined garden path.
Elyse. He was transfixed for long seconds, following her steps, watching the way the thin white material clung to her body. What he could not see in the dark, his memory supplied, and only when she disappeared from sight did his halted breathing begin again.
His blood raced, and his heart beat strongly. His desires rose to attack him, even as his mind tricked him into feeling the softness and warmth of the past.
He willed himself to go inside, but his body refused to obey his commands. Fighting with himself, Brace’s hand tightened around the snifter. An instant later, the shattering of the crystal reverberated in the night, but he did not hear the glass break, or feel the small slivers cutting into the palm of his hand.
He heard nothing except the pounding of desire as he stepped down from the veranda and followed Elyse toward the garden.
Chapter Twenty
Elyse tried, but could not make herself fall asleep. Instead, with her mind swirling restlessly, she left the house for the gardens. Too many disturbing thoughts clashed within her: her love for Brace, their strange relationship, and the fearful warning Lucea had given.
She was uneasy, wondering if the Obeah woman’s words meant her aunt and uncle had come to Jamaica after her. What could they do? Nothing! She tried to make herself believe the single word. Then she found herself hating the fears, the shame, and the pride that made her hold back from telling Brace and his parents the truth about what had happened in England.
Shrugging away these thoughts, she entered the garden and walked to the gazebo. She sat on a long, cushioned bench, grasped the woven trellis that was one wall, and leaned against it to look through the open spaces at the night sky.
The moon was full tonight, its sheen a pure silver. Only a few clouds dotted the sky, flowing along the air currents, illuminated to a cottony white by the moon.
I love you. The words were silent, said to the vision of Brace floating before her eyes. Come to me, please, come to me.
Elyse knew the futility of her prayer. Brace continually held himself away from her. The fact that he was doing it for her didn’t matter anymore…nothing mattered as long as they were apart.
She’d learned that afternoon in the mountains, that neither love, nor money, nor titles, nor power, was what was important. Only Brace, she realized, could not accept that.
If he will not come to me, then I must go to him! It wasn’t the first time she had thought of this, but each time she had dismissed the idea immediately. This time she did not; instead, she thought about it, casting aside the fears and the shame she knew must not become a part of her love.
So lost in thought was she, that she didn’t hear the crunching of stones, or the footsteps coming on to the wooden floor of the gazebo. All she was aware of was her own anguish, and the taunting, heady scents of the night orchids.
Standing in the center of the gazebo, Brace stared at Elyse’s shadowed form. His heart beat too fast, his mind, filled with desperation and need. He watched her gazing upward at the moon, her face awash with silver light, the beauty within it haunting.
He raised his arm, his hand outstretched toward her. “Elyse.”
Elyse heard her name from what seemed to be a thousand miles away. Turning slowly, she wondered if it were her imagination. Then
she saw him. His face, handsome and bold, floated before her eyes. His arm was outstretched, his hand open and waiting.
You came. Dreamlike, Elyse rose and went to him, took his hand, and stared into his eyes. Within them, was love, passion, anger, and confusion. She could not speak.
He drew her to him, pulling her close. His mouth covered hers, crushing her lips with the intensity of his need. His hands grasped her small waist, lifting her up, pressing her to his chest, and crushing the breath out of her with strength and desire.
Then he released her. She was on her feet, staring into the swirling depths of his deep, passionate eyes, and the dangerous glint that seemed to be a new part of him. She did not flinch, for she knew no fear of her love. They were together again. The burning brand of his mouth trailed along the side of her neck. Her hands went to his hair, winding through the abundant mass as she pressed his mouth tighter to her. Her neck arched; her eyes were open and staring at the gazebo’s thatched roof as the passions and desires broke free within her.
Brace’s hand grasped the bodice of her nightdress, and with one swift pull, ripped it free. The night air brushed across her breasts for a half a heartbeat before his hands and mouth covered them.
Elyse’s breath came in short, sharp gasps. Waves of pulsating desire swept through her. Her hands, still bound within Brace’s hair pressed him harder to her breasts.
Brace’s mouth left her breasts. His body slid downward, his lips setting fire to every part of her they touched.
Just when her legs threatened to crumble, and her body explode with the pain of her need for him, Brace stopped.
Standing slowly, he lifted Elyse from her feet and carried her to the long bench upon which she had been sitting. There, he knelt above her, and still without speaking, pulled the remnants of her nightdress free.
*****
The room was quiet. The one small lantern fluttering on the night table gave off just enough light to permit the two people sharing the bed to see each other.
Silver Moon Page 13
