She moved with a wickedly graceful rhythm that sheathed and aroused him again and again, and he fell back upon her with greater ardor, rising to a precipice, falling back, only to immediately rise again. Finally they reached a peak where he could bear no more, and a climax burst upon him with all the fiercely burning heat of the sun. And then, only then, as the convulsions ripped through his body, did he remember the tender state of his wife and draw away, alarmed at the volatility with which they had made love. He stretched by her side, eyes raking over her now with concern as he readjusted his clothing.
But she lay on the sand, seemingly quite well, the water washing over the beautiful length of her bare legs. Her eyes opened at last. She was trembling slightly, her heart pounding furiously, her breath still causing a hectic rise and fall of the lushness of her breasts. Her nipples remained hard, peaked against the fabric of her gown; yet somehow she appeared as pure and untouched as an angel.
“Oh, Ian…” Her eyes looked stricken.
“What?” he asked quickly. “Sweet Jesu, what? The babe, we’ve hurt it, have I hurt it?”
“No! No!” she protested quickly, eyes wide and golden.
He leaned over her, brushing her cheek with one hand, sheltering her body from the hot sun and chill breeze with his own. “Alaina, unless you want my heart to abruptly cease beating, please don’t frighten me so.”
She smiled, but it was a tremulous, fragile smile. “Ian, it can’t be right to feel so vigorously alive! To—to take such pleasure … in life! I mean now, under these circumstances.”
He was somewhat startled to realize that she felt guilty. She’d allowed herself to enjoy making love— when Teddy lay under the ground.
He sighed and spoke to her gently, his thumb brushing lightly over her cheek and lips. “Alaina, the only sin in life is not living it when we are blessed to have it, and I swear to you, Teddy would tell you the same.”
“Would he?” she asked softly.
Assured of her health, he leaned back upon an elbow. “Indeed, he would. By God, though, you very nearly scared the life out of me.”
She actually smiled, a swift, fleeting flash of real amusement.
And happiness.
“I’m sorry. The babe is fine, and Jennifer said that it’s fine to—”
She broke off, her cheeks suddenly a flaming red.
“Ah. You’ve discussed the intimate details of your marriage with Jennifer?” he queried with a feigned note of indignation.
“No!” She protested, still flushing furiously.
“Yes, you have!”
“You’re mistaken.”
He lay against the sand, trying not to laugh, studying her face. “I see. You asked Jennifer if physical intimacy would harm the child when I was hundreds of miles away. Interesting.”
“Well, I did assume you’d come back eventually—to visit your kin, if not your wife. And you, sir, were footloose and fancy free, while for me … I am…” she said, and her voice trailed away.
“Burdened with child?” he heard himself query with more than a note of anger.
She shook her head. “Would you have come back sooner, had you known?” She asked him softly.
He hesitated just slightly. Could he have come back any sooner?
His hesitation was a mistake, an answer unwittingly given her.
“Is it me—or your child—you’re so determined to have with you in Washington?” she queried then.
“Alaina—”
She started to rise, ignoring him.
He would not allow her to do so. He straddled her carefully, pinning her arms to the sand, meeting her eyes.
“I will have you, and my child. You’re my wife, and if you haven’t noticed that I want you very much, you’re quite blind. Are you seeking compliments? Reassurances? How strange, for I’m damned certain that you are well aware of your own abilities and beauty. I promised you the day of our wedding that this would be a real marriage, and nothing less. Teddy wanted you with him; at the time, I had no logical argument to keep you from him, as I assumed I’d be traveling here with great frequency. As events would have it, my assignment remained in the North! Now, let’s see…, you wanted to remain here. You wanted to remain here so badly that you were willing to use all your charms and feminine persuasion to… hmm… what’s the right word? Bribe! Right, bribe me into letting you stay here with Teddy. And if I’m not mistaken, you came out this morning with the intent—perhaps consciously, perhaps not—to, er, bribe me into allowing you to stay again. It’s not going to happen.”
She stared up at him, her eyes flashing amusement, anger, then amusement and anger once again. “Ian McKenzie—” she began, her voice deep, husky, and filled with the warning that she was about to start out on a tirade of her own.
But she did not, because Ian didn’t give her a chance. The breeze brought the distant sound of voices to his ears and he leaped up with a swiftness that brought a startled cry to her lips. He reached down to help her to her feet, explaining quickly, “Someone’s here.”
Alaina looked at him questioningly; it was clear she hadn’t heard the voices as yet.
Inwardly he was calling himself every manner of fool. He hadn’t forgotten what had happened here with Teddy; he’d even brought one of the Colt six-shooters with him to the woodpile.
But he’d left his gun there when he’d run for the water, and left he and Alaina unprotected.
“Alaina, stay here until you hear me call out that it’s all right,” he told her.
Her eyes were very wide, but before she could reply, Julian’s voice could be heard, loud and clear, calling out toward the house. “Ian? Alaina? Is anyone here?”
Ian exhaled with relief. “It’s all right. It’s my brother and Jerome.”
“It’s not exactly all right. My God, we’re soaked, we’re indecent, we’re—”
“We’re married this time, and it’s not the enemy who has come upon us,” he told her dryly. “Besides, you’ve managed to remain rather decently clad. It’s only going to look like we were swimming. But we should let them know where we are.”
He reached a hand out to her. She met his eyes, smiled after a moment, and took it. He led the way back around the mangroves and toward the beachhead. Jerome was in front of the house, hands on his hips, calling out their names again, while Julian was just heading off toward the lime grove to see if they were among the trees.
“Hello—we’re here!” Ian called.
Julian stopped, turned, and started back. The four met just in front of the house. lan’s brother and cousin had their formal frock coats over their arms and had opened their shirts, but they both smiled with obvious amusement at the state of dishabille in which they found Ian and Alaina. Julian’s brow arched as he stepped forward, shaking lan’s hand, then loosely embracing a sodden Alaina. “Nice morning for a swim….”
“Never mind,” Ian told him, shrugging to Jerome and asking, “What happened?”
“Should we go in?” Julian suggested.
“Alaina is shivering,” Jerome advised.
“Am I?” she murmured. “It’s not really cold at all anymore.”
It wasn’t cold; the sun was now high in the sky, its rays growing hotter. “Yes, let’s go in the house,” said Ian. “There’s coffee on the stove, I believe. Alaina, you need to get into something dry.” He set his hand upon the small of her back, propelling her up the porch steps, into the house, and toward her bedroom.
He lifted a hand, indicating the back porch to Julian and Jerome, and then followed the two of them out. Jerome perched upon the railing, Julian in one of the rockers. Ian angled himself upon the railing, waiting to hear what had happened.
“There will be a disciplinary action,” Jerome said.
“What will the action be?”
Jerome shook his head. “I don’t know.”
Julian cleared his throat. “We tried to wait around and see, and naturally, under the circumstances, I threw Father’s name at them, yo
ur name, and every other name that occurred to me—including that of General Winfield Scott. I inferred a great friendship, so I hope you do know the man, Ian. But it didn’t matter. We were still informed—politely and properly—that whatever was done would take time because it was such a delicate situation. The whole trip was hell, Ian—but you know damned well Jerome went in with the temperament to take a few scalps if that would help, so believe me, aggressive pressure was applied. So there’s a possibility that the men may face a court-martial. A possibility. When decisions are made, they’ll let us know. Oh—and of course they send their deepest sympathy on the death of Teddy McMann to you and his daughter. I have a letter from a Colonel Talbot for the two of you.”
Ian rubbed his chin, watching his brother and Jerome. He’d never known anyone capable of being as fierce, determined, and stoic in his resolve as his cousin Jerome. No one walked over any of the McKenzies, but still Ian should have gone himself. He was a military man, and it was a military situation.
“So—there are infinite possibilities!” he heard Alaina say sarcastically, and he looked down the length of the porch, startled to see that she had chosen not to change after all, but had gone through the house to her bedroom just to slip silently out to the porch to hear their conversation. He should have expected as much from her.
Her gold eyes were on Jerome. “They’re not going to do anything, are they? They just put you off with a lot of excuses.”
Jerome sighed, lifting his hands in the air somewhat helplessly, and looking to Ian for a lead.
“Alaina, I warned you that there was clearly no intent to harm your father—”
“And I didn’t expect them to be hanged, and I don’t think I wanted anything so drastic,” she said angrily. “But I did expect more than a sympathy letter!”
“Alaina, there will be disciplinary action. Were you really listening? Julian said that there will be disciplinary action.”
“Right. They may face a court-martial. Oh, Ian! That was a lot of talk just to get the McKenzies off their backs! Nothing will be done; we’ll be put off and put off until the worms have eaten my father to the bone, and that will be that!”
“Alaina, this is going to be a difficult time for the military, and yes, I imagine, under the circumstances, matters that aren’t entirely critical will be put off. With all the fury going on around the country—”
“What fury?” Ian interrupted, frowning.
Jerome and Julian looked at one another, then back at Ian and Alaina.
“You haven’t heard?”
“Heard what? I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Jerome exhaled on a long breath. “Well, then, you can’t realize what an uproar is taking place.” Jerome stared at his cousin. “Lincoln was elected to the presidency.”
Alaina gasped. Her fingers wound tensely into the palms of her hands as she walked across the porch to Ian.
“Lincoln—president! Ian! You can resign from that detestable army right now!”
“What?” Ian demanded.
“You can resign—”
“Are you trying to punish me—or the army?” he inquired, feeling his temper begin to burn. He’d known it was coming. Somehow, he’d known it was coming. He’d made a point of getting leave now, so that he’d be in his home state for the elections.
Saner heads would still prevail! he told himself.
But they would not. The South was outraged, and he could imagine that even as they spoke, most of the cotton states were calling for special legislative sessions.
To discuss secession.
“Ian, I don’t understand why you’re being so stubborn and angry,” Alaina insisted. Her cheeks were flushed, but her flesh remained very pale. Her eyes looked like true gold fire. She had twisted her hair into a knot at her nape, cleanly displaying the elegance of her classical features. Her damp gown hugged her figure, and it reoc-curred to him that—despite the slight bulge of her abdomen, or perhaps more visible because of it—she had grown thinner in the last few days.
“Ian,” she persisted, “what I’m saying makes perfect sense. Florida will form her own armed forces—”
“Oh, really?” he interrupted sharply. “Since when are you running the state government? Excuse me, Jerome, have I missed something? Has Florida seceded from the Union as yet?”
Jerome shrugged. They both knew that Florida was most likely to secede and that the state would begin making preliminary preparations for a split from the Union.
But it hadn’t happened yet. And it might take time. Ian might be one of the few people in the South not surprised that Lincoln had been elected, but just the same, he had dreaded this happening.
And it was bad enough without Alaina harping at him.
“Have we seceded?” he demanded again.
“No, not that I know about,” Jerome said. “The election results are really just out. This has all just happened, of course.”
“But Lincoln has been elected!” Alaina cried. “And Ian—”
“If and when Florida actually secedes, Alaina, I will make my own decisions regarding my military commission.”
“Ian! You must resign!” she informed him, as if there was no question regarding the matter.
His head was pounding. He had expected it; he had feared it. And it had come.
He stood, suddenly furious. He walked directly to where she stood, lifting her chin so that she was forced to look into his eyes. “Do you know, my dear, that I have really tried in every way to be as courteous to your feelings as I was able? Pay heed to me now, Alaina. I will be damned if I will ever allow you to tell me what I must or must not do!”
She stared at him, her face growing even more pale, except for the crimson flush that flowered at her cheeks.
“Indeed!” she whispered. “Then you pay heed to my words. You must—understand me—you must go straight to hell!” she cried out, and with a wild fury, she tried to push past him.
“Oh, no, Alaina!” He informed her.
He gripped her shoulders and dragged her back around in front of him.
“Alaina, dammit—” He broke off suddenly, feeling the amount of heat that emanated from her. Her shoul-ders were on fire. Naturally, she was flushed with anger, but…
She opened her mouth as if she would argue with him again. Her eyes were dazzling, seeming far too dilated, too dark. “Ian, Ian .. damn you!” she cried. But then the tone of her voice changed, touched with confusion and alarm. “Ian, Ian, please…”
But she didn’t finish. Her lashes suddenly closed over her eyes.
And she collapsed into his arms, dead weight.
Chapter 16
She was sicker than she had been in her entire life, and there were times when she knew it.
At other times, she didn’t know anything at all; life was nothing more than a strange series of visions, some real, some hallucinatory.
She saw her father. They were someplace where the background was a soft whitish blue, as pale and gentle as Teddy’s eyes. She kept asking him how he felt; she was very worried. She vaguely knew that he was dead, and she wondered that he could seem so well and at peace. “I’ve never felt better, daughter,” he told her indignantly. “And pay attention now, Alaina, see what I’ve grown from that little seedling I showed you?”
Then Teddy was gone. Soldiers marched across a field of white, in line, in a row, growing in number, one after another. They marched and marched. A sergeant called out “Ready, aim, fire!” and a thousand guns seemed to explode in a riot of gunfire….
She was hot; she was cold. She saw Ian’s face, bronzed, gaunt, eyes fierce and blue and grave; she felt his touch, heard his voice. “Drink this, you must drink this.”
“No…”
She couldn’t drink, couldn’t swallow.
He made her drink.
She was hot. So hot. She didn’t want to be touched. He kept putting wet towels on her. She couldn’t bear them touching her, and she cried out and tried to figh
t, pushing the towels aside. He put them back and barked her name sharply, and she met his eyes again, so fierce upon her own. “Leave them be; you must cool down.”
Ian was gone, Jennifer was there. Jennifer, who smiled, and was so gentle. Alaina closed her eyes, and Jen was gone, and Ian was back. Julian came, Jerome, and when she opened her eyes once again, she found that Teela was there, and hers was the most gentle and practiced touch of all.
Alaina walked in clouds of lime trees with Teddy once again. It seemed they walked through hills, and she knew, of course, that there were no hills on Belamar Isle.
“Drink,” she heard, again and again.
A dozen voices.
Ian’s voice.
And then, in the lime field, Teddy was urging her to drink as well, and she did so.
The soldiers marched…
But finally the sounds of their footsteps faded, and they began to blur and meld to black.
She was dying, she thought.
“Alaina!”
His voice, so sharp. His eyes, so blue, piercing into her. He forced liquid between her lips, forced her to drink again.
By the third night of Alaina’s illness, Ian was in a haggard and dangerous state himself. When Julian told him at last that her fever had broken, he was exhausted.
He’d stayed at her bedside through most of the long hours when she tossed with fever, leaving her only briefly to the care of the family he trusted so much. When his aunt arrived, he slept a few hours, leaving Teela and Jennifer to continually douse her with cool well water to keep her fever from getting too high.
“She’s young and strong, and she’ll fight this instinctively,” Julian assured him all along. “We’ve just got to help her; we have to keep her fever down.”
There were times, naturally, when Ian did wonder about the child she carried. And his brother was honest when Ian asked him if the babe could possibly survive. “All things are possible. Babies have survived through their mothers’ incredibly severe illnesses. Alaina is fairly far along now, which is good. But I don’t know. It’s still to be seen.”
When the fever broke at last, and Julian assured Ian that Alaina had fallen into a peaceful sleep, he came out to the parlor, grateful, numb. Weary and unshaven, he sat before the fire, damning himself for her illness. She had been too fragile with Teddy’s death. He had dragged her into the water, he’d let her get cold, he’d made love to her too soon. Pure terror had tugged at his heart when he thought she had slipped from life, lying still as a marble angel, tangled sun-blond hair spread about her delicate features like a radiant halo. She had come to mean more to him than he wanted to imagine; in his days here, he’d discovered far more about her as a person, though he’d known almost instantly that he craved holding her, having her, like a man craved air to breathe, water to drink.