Read Master Of Paradise Page 21


  "That is acceptable, Jennifer," he said quietly, giving his permission.

  Jennifer was livid with him. Damn him to hellfire. Nicholas didn't jump to her bait like the other men she knew. She was a past master at the nuance of the sidelong glance, the tempting half-smile, flirting with her fan, but he didn't respond to her smiles, just as her tears didn't reduce him to apologizing and begging her forgiveness.

  She vowed to bring him low, no matter how long it took. She knew instinctively how to defeat an enemy. Revenge has four simple steps. First, make a friend of him; second, gain his confidence; third, maneuver him into a vulnerable position; and fourth, annihilate him. "Excuse me, I must freshen up before I go to the Beverlys."

  Alone with Billie, Nicholas said, "For a well-bred young lady, her morals are deplorable."

  Aunt Billie cackled. "No woman is moral when the chips are down, take it from me. Morals are the first thing to go out the window."

  Nicholas chuckled. "So, you think women are all sisters under the skin, do you Billie?"

  "Human nature is human nature." She nodded sagely.

  "How can I argue with such profundity?" he asked with a smile.

  When Amanda went up to her room, she found a long-stemmed rosebud on her pillow. She caught her breath and wondered if it was an invitation. She inhaled its delicate fragrance deeply, and opened the door that led out to the balcony. She leaned against the railing and searched the shadows of the garden. There! Was that the glow from his cigar, or merely a firefly signaling an invitation to its mate? She was very still for a moment, then suddenly she knew beyond the shadow of a doubt that he awaited her. Her heart lifted and sang.

  She bathed her hands and face with rose-scented water and slipped out into the garden. She floated on butterfly wings to the gazebo and climbed its steps. Her heart sank as she saw that it was empty, then it soared again, as he arose from a wicker chair.

  "Nicholas." She was breathless.

  "Sweetheart, I see you understood my invitation." He cupped her elbows and gazed down at the face that haunted him.

  "When two people are attuned to each other, they don't need words," she breathed softly.

  "Thank God for this Indian summer. I hope it lasts into December. I want us to meet here every night, Amanda. Promise me you'll come?"

  "I promise," she said shyly, hoping the spell would not be broken.

  His hands slipped up her arms as he drew her closer. Her vision was blocked from everything beyond his wide shoulders. He wore no jacket and her eyes lingered on the open neck of his shirt, where the strong, brown column of his neck disappeared beneath the fine material.

  He bent his lips to her ear and whispered, "Each time I looked at you today, I was overwhelmed by the desire to kiss you... like this." His hands cupped her face and lifted it to receive his kiss. His lips took hers softly, tasting all her sweetness.

  Her head was filled with the scent of him and when he released her mouth, she swayed toward him, intoxicated by his male strength. She had never known the bliss of being held captive against a powerful man's chest, arms wrapped about each other, mouths fused.

  His arms tightened and his mouth possessed hers again. She could feel his hard body, and she drew back, alarmed at his intensity.

  He murmured, "Don't let me hurt you."

  She didn't know if she was relieved or disappointed when he took her hand and led her from the summer house. With fingers entwined they strolled to the end of the rose garden to where the swing hung invitingly. He stood behind it and held the ropes steady. She laughed and sat down, but before he began to push her, he bent over and dropped a kiss on her hair. She leaned her head back to gaze up at him. "Do you want to play... like children?"

  His voice was husky. "I want to play like Adam and Eve."

  She protested, "They were... " then she stopped, shyly.

  "Say it," he urged.

  "Naked," she whispered.

  The silence enveloped them as the word hung between them. Finally he said, "That's what I want us to be."

  "Hush Nicholas, you mustn't say such things."

  "I will say such things, and we will do such things," he assured her firmly. "But not yet, not tonight. Not until you have lost your shyness with me, and I've shown you how to be a little wanton." He began to push her, sending her higher and higher until her toes touched the high branches.

  She squealed and begged him to stop.

  He walked around to stand in front of her and held out his arms. "Jump," he invited. "Trust me."

  Always ready for a dare, she let go of the swing and sailed laughing through the air.

  He caught her in strong arms and lifted her high as he swung her about, and then gathered her to his heart. His blood was up and it took all his willpower to stop himself from sinking to the warm earth and ravishing her. With an effort he set her feet down, and they walked through the topiary trees that cast peculiar shadows across the lawns, some amusing, some sinister.

  "Amanda," he hesitated, "has this marriage made things awkward for you with your friends?"

  She smiled a secret smile. "They have been pea-green with envy, and I'm only just beginning to learn why. They covet you!"

  "We mustn't let anyone know we are in love Amanda. It would cause a scandal because of your age, and though that wouldn't bother me in the slightest, it would hurt you.

  "I savor the secrecy; it has a strange excitement," she admitted.

  He murmured, "Love snatched in a garden is doubly sweet." He brushed the tendrils back from her temples. "Your hair fascinates me. I love to touch it and smell it." He lifted a handful and touched his lips to it."

  "I love your smell Nicholas. It's like wild cedar."

  "The sense of smell has a lot to do with whom we fall in love. In ancient Rome the young men were so sophisticated they used one perfume on the arm they would put about a lady, and another on the shoulder where she might rest her head, and a different one yet upon the body."

  "How would an ancient Roman kiss his lady?" she tempted.

  "Like this." He drew her against his body. The kiss parted her lips and he caressed her with the tip of his tongue. His embrace hardened and the kiss began to demand and then to take.

  She drew back, wide-eyed. Her apprehension was mixed with anticipation, and he knew he must stop while he still had a small measure of control.

  Closer to the house, when he kissed her goodnight, he made sure it was devoid of passion. He whispered his demand. "Tomorrow!"

  She nodded her joyous acceptance.

  Nicholas knew that once again he had condemned himself to the orgasm of a voluptuous dream, but he could not forego the delicious torture of these nights in the perfumed garden.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Brandon showed up the next day and was astounded to find Nicholas out on his land clearing the withered stalks from the cotton crop. Also seedling pines and blackberry brambles had to be constantly cleared out before they encroached everywhere. Things grew so quickly, it was a continuing battle to keep ahead of the honeysuckle tangled with vines and smilax.

  "Nick, 'fore God, I don't know what you do for pleasure." He dismounted and handed the reins of his hunter to Jim, his body servant.

  Nick grinned. "Where are you off to?"

  "I can't believe you've forgotten the horse racin' at the Vickers. Hellfire man, they have it every year on the same day."

  "I did forget, Bran. I intended to go." He wiped the perspiration from his neck.

  "Bettin' be high-- make yourself a pile of money," Brandon tempted.

  "I wanted to hear what the talk was regarding secession." Nick reached for his shirt.

  "You should have come to the corn roast last night. All the talk was of this fellow Lincoln that's campaignin' for President. Doc Caldwell thinks he's gonna win the election, but the rest of the men think the Democrats have it sewn up."

  Nicholas shook his head. "There's one hell of a time coming if Lincoln gets in. If you can wait while I bathe and c
hange, we'll come with you to the races. I expect the girls would enjoy it."

  "I can wait," Brandon said with a laugh, but my sisters are another matter entirely."

  "Leave it to me. You have to be masterful with women," he said with a wink. "Brute, take over here. Make sure you do two more fields before you let them quit. Ben," he called across the clearing, "go wash up, I want you to drive the carriage over to the Vickers place."

  "Lord God, Nick, you let a field hand drive our ladies? It's a wonder Jennifer doesn't refuse to go. Field hands stink musky!"

  Nick grinned and drawled, "You might stink yourself if you ever did a lick of work. And they aren't your ladies, they're mine. Ben knows damn well he'd better wash until he doesn't stink when he drives my carriage."

  At the house, Samuel went to prepare his master's bath and lay out fresh clothes.

  "Lou, tell Miss Jennifer and Miss Amanda if they can be ready in half-an-hour, I'll take them to the races. Assure them I won't wait longer."

  When his sisters came down the curved staircase eager for the outing, Brandon couldn't believe his eyes. He looked from one to the other, comparing them openly, and Amanda came off the clear winner. The girl who always looked as if she'd been running wild with the gypsies was elegantly ruffled in exquisite lavender. She wore a straw leghorn, the first time he'd ever seen her in a hat, and she carried the most eye-catching parasol.

  Beside her, Jennifer's pale features looked washed out, almost drab today. Brandon looked at Nicholas as he descended, and his eyebrows went up in surprised amusement at the change in his younger sister. "By God, Mandy, you grew up overnight."

  She replied loftily, "Marriage does that for you."

  Brandon slapped his leg and laughed outright. "You'd better not say things like that if you don't want to get old Nick into trouble."

  When Nicholas got into the carriage, Brandon protested. "Aren't you going to race Sunblood? He'd beat anything those crazy Vickers boys will be racing."

  "I know he could, Bran, but Sunblood is my pride and joy. I wouldn't race him in this heat. He's not for racing; I'm going to use him for stud. Far more profitable in the end."

  "I wish I had some way of making money," Jennifer said with passion. "Men don't know how lucky they are. Whenever I need anything I have to ask Daddy."

  Nicholas gave each girl a ten dollar gold piece, and Mandy teased, "Thank you, Daddy." His physical response was instant and quite visible he was sure, as he shifted to ease the tight cloth of his breeches. He gave her a warning look and the dimples peeped out.

  For once Nicholas was happy to join the groups of men who invariably gathered together at these affairs, while their ladies were expected to amuse each other. Today the talk was all about politics. As election day drew closer the men assured themselves that that damned Lincoln with his cockeyed abolitionist sentiments didn't stand a snowball's chance in hell, and if by some remote possibility, he did become President of the United States and try to abolish slavery, the very foundation the South was built upon, then they would secede.

  Nicholas spoke against secession each time the subject was brought up, but Southern pride and arrogance were at work, and it almost appeared cowardly not to totally oppose the Northern point of view. It was being realized and openly discussed for the first time that if slavery were abolished and all the black people manumitted, Southern planters stood to lose hundreds of thousands of dollars. The plantations were slave rich and top dollar had been laid out for prime field hands and well-trained house slaves. Manumission would wipe out fortunes overnight.

  Jennifer spent the afternoon with Beau Hampden and her other friends. His talk was all fire and pride. He was ready to fight the damn Yankees. Of course, everyone knew they didn't have the courageous spirit to fight back if challenged. The North was filled with shopkeepers and immigrants just off the boats.

  By the end of the afternoon, however, Jennifer was alarmed. The only thing she owned in the whole world that had any value were a half-dozen slaves. Soon perhaps, my slaves will be worthless to me! There's only one way to prevent that happening.

  Nicholas noted with amusement mixed slightly with annoyance that Amanda was surrounded by young admirers all afternoon. She was emerging from the bud, just becoming aware of her beauty and desirability, and at the same time the young men of the county were becoming aware of her allure. They placed her wagers, collected her winnings, covered her loses, and escorted her about the huge buffet tables. The females gave her speculative looks and whispered about her.

  By the time the purple twilight deepened to indigo they had lost track of Brandon. On the carriage ride back to Paradise, Jennifer begged Nicholas to invest some money for her, if she could manage to get some together. She placed her hands on his arm, tugging his sleeve, begging like a supplicant.

  Amanda watched her sister touching her husband so openly, and was wistful that she could not do the same, at least in public. When we are alone tonight, I will touch him, and not just his arm either. She resolved to touch his hair, as her fingers had ached to, and if she could summon the courage, she'd touch his chest-- that lovely broad expanse where she longed to lay her cheek and let her fingers caress.

  She blushed and quickly looked away from him. Amanda's thoughts were filled with anticipation of the touch and scent of him, and she only heard the tail end of Nicholas's words to her sister. They had come to some agreement, but about exactly what, Mandy was in ignorance.

  As soon as they arrived home, Samuel handed Nicholas a letter. It was from Bernard Jackson in reply to the one he had written.

  My Dear Nicholas:

  Let me set your mind at rest about secession. The South is made up of many old and stable regimes, and in spite of a few hot-headed South-Carolinians, cooler heads will prevail. States like Louisiana and Mississippi will not easily be swayed.

  Representation has shifted to the cotton states of Alabama, Georgia, and Carolina, and with this parity comes congressional power. The State of Virginia will oppose secession forever, even if every other state cries out for it. All you need do is recall how quickly John Brown, the abolitionist bastard was crushed last year by Federal troops under Colonel Robert E. Lee for attempting a slave uprising.

  Since I have no time these days to think about the plantation, I am most thankful that I have you to depend upon. I would appreciate it if you would keep an eye on Brandon and drop me a note regarding any problems that arise with the estate. Give my love to my girls.

  Bernard Jackson, Richmond, Virginia.

  Nicholas put the letter down and rubbed the side of his nose, deep in thought. If Bernard had written his true feelings, they contrasted sharply with his own. I too want to deny that anything is wrong, but deep down I have a gut feeling that this issue is about to erupt like a volcano, and it will be such an upheaval, it will destroy everything in its path.

  Nicholas knew what it was to lose all you held dear, have it swept from under your feet by forces that you could not control, and he fiercely resented the thought of it happening all over again after he had worked so hard for so many years to build a dynasty with nothing but his bare hands.

  Then he mocked himself for a fool. The only moment that's important is this moment. Live for it! Enjoy it! he told himself fiercely. He had worked four long years toward tomorrow. He would take his tomorrow and enjoy it tonight!

  He went upstairs and poured himself a glass of champagne. He bathed and changed his shirt, and on impulse picked up the bottle and glass and took it with him to the summer house. He unbuttoned his shirt and lay back in the hammock, schooling his mind to patience.

  As he swung to and fro, the fragrances of the hot night seduced his senses with their exotic perfumes. It seemed an eternity before she came. He let out a long breath when he saw her approaching the hammock in the deep purple shadows. Nicholas stretched out his arms to her. "Love, let me hold you."

  She came to him shyly, yet willing. As he enfolded her, the hammock swung wildly, then settled into a
n undulating rhythm that moved her body softly against his. Her thigh brushed the tip of his shaft each time the hammock swung. The feeling was exquisite; he didn't want it to stop.

  Amanda's cheek rested against his chest and she could feel the strong, heavy thud of his heartbeat. "Paradise is much lovelier than the Vicker's Plantation," she murmured dreamily.

  "Too beautiful," he said softly.

  She raised her head to gaze at him in the darkness.

  His strong hands held her body immobile against his to keep it in the pleasurable position that was arousing him to the point where he could think of little else.

  She sensed his slight melancholy. "What's wrong tonight?"

  He groaned and his arms tightened about her. "It's just that I've waited so long for you. I fear something will snatch you and Paradise away before I've enjoyed you to the full."

  "Hush. Don't put the thought in the air." She laid her cheek once more against his hard torso.

  "I want to see Paradise filled with guests. When your six months mourning period is over, we'll entertain the whole county." His enthusiasm grew apace with his words. "We'll fill the house with flowers and musicians and light up the gardens. We'll give a ball and send out two hundred invitations. We'll serve champagne and caviar, and when it's over, I'll carry you upstairs to my bed." He lifted her on top of him and sought her mouth above his.

  "We can't," she said against his lips. "I'll only be seventeen on my next birthday, not eighteen."

  "I cannot... will not wait so long, Amanda love. The thing I am denied becomes the one thing I must have, at any cost. I am becoming obsessed with you. It's like spreading a feast before a starving man, and denying him even a taste."

  "Nicholas, you are tasting me," she told him as his mouth possessed hers, and his tongue played with hers.