Page 20 of Master of Paradise

Two days later at breakfast Amanda told her sister.

"The field hands are back from Charleston, but Nicholas didn't come yet. He must have been detained by business."

"Ha! Little innocent,"

teased Jennifer.

"there are so many diversions in the city, he'll probably be gone for days."

"What sort of diversions?"

"Use your imagination."

Jenny rolled her eyes at Mandy's ignorance. She changed the subject and said in a tone that dared her sister to object.

"I've invited Beau for supper tonight."

"That's lovely Jenny. If there's something special you'd like, just ask Samuel. He's definitely the voice of authority around here. If Nicholas doesn't get back, I could send a message to Brandon and ask him to join us."

"For heaven's sake, we don't need our brother here just because I have a gentleman caller. You're a married lady now-- you are all the chaperone we will need."

"Of course, you are right. I must learn to take responsibility as the mistress here."

In Charleston, Nicholas attended a political meeting at the Society Hall on Broad Street.

He was alarmed at the mood of the men who attended.

Raised voices were loud and angry, and when the call went up for South Carolina to secede from the Union of the United States there were no cool voices to prevail and advise a more cautious solution.

He walked back to the house on Tradd Street, mulling over the things he'd heard at the meeting.

Solange and Jason were married now.

She remained at the house in Charleston and Jason spent time with her only when he accompanied Nicholas to the city.

Before Nicholas retired, he sent off a letter to Bernard, appraising him of the mood in Charleston and asking him what the talk was in Richmond.

Sleep was a long time coming, but the moment he slipped over the edge into its silken bonds, Amanda was there again beckoning, retreating, advancing, refusing, promising, withholding, begging, forbidding, until she drove him to take her by force.

Nicholas shot up from the pillows wide awake.

He knew not if he was glad or sorry that it had only been a dream, but every detail stayed with him to haunt him for the remainder of the night.

The following day the city was like a steam bath.

The air hung hot, wet, and heavy, with not even the hint of a sea-breeze ruffling up from the harbor.

Nicholas let himself in with his own key at Maggie's house on Wentworth Street.

The day's light was beginning to fade and he couldn't be sure if her smile welcomed him as he peered into the dim sitting room.

He felt stifled and removed his coat, murmuring.

"You don't mind, do you?"

"By all means, don't stand on ceremony with me,"

she said in a brittle voice.

Instantly wary, he wondered how she could possibly have heard the news of his marriage. She made no attempt to come into his arms, nor offer him a kiss of welcome.

"I haven't seen you or heard from you in so long, I assumed it was over!"

So, she's determined to be difficult.

He decided against saying he'd been busy with the cotton because she was well aware of the demands on the time of a planter.

He took out his cigar case and selected a cheroot, waiting for her to spit out all the things that were sticking in her craw.

"You've obviously been so besotted with your child bride, you couldn't even find time to drop me a note."

He blew out the blue smoke and watched it spiral lazily toward the ceiling.

"Well, say something, damn you!"

"What is there to say?"

he drawled.

"Seems you already know all my business."

"I was at a social gathering with Virginia Heyward, your bride's aunt. She flung your name about like you were the prize catch of the Season. Said her niece must have bewitched you since she hadn't come out yet, and wasn't even old enough to attend balls or cotillions."

He murmured.

"In the South, gossip is a way of life."

"Especially when men revel in giving the gossips fodder for their gristmills. Rumor has it the marriage is in name only, but I'm not quite that gullible. That's simply a device to mask the situation with a cloak of respectability,"

she flung.

The silence stretched between them as he gauged her true feelings. Was she deeply hurt by his actions, or was she giving him a hard time because she had a particularly high bill she needed paying.

"Well?"

she demanded.

"Have you slept with her or not?"

Nicholas ground out his cigar and said curtly.

"I have no intention of discussing my wife with my mistress."

The insult was like a slap.

"You bastard!" she spat.

Ironically, that's one name I can't deny. He looked at her and said quietly.

"The trouble with a mistress is, as the expense increases, the pleasure diminishes."

He put his key on the table and picked up his coat to depart.

She gasped. Then called after him.

"Nick, don't go!"

He stopped in the doorway with his back to her.

She flew across the room to him.

"I'm sorry darling, I've been going insane with jealousy. I didn't know if I'd ever see you again."

He turned to face her.

"Maggie, when I'm finished with you, I'll be man enough to tell you so. Give me credit for some character."

She slipped her arms about his neck and looked up at him pleadingly.

"I can't help being jealous of a girl half my age."

"Sexual jealousy is an ugly, self-defeating emotion that makes a woman petulant and sullen. A man tires easily of such a woman."

It was a warning, plain and simple. He wanted the message to come through loud and clear.

"Maggie, I prefer a relationship with no strings. I don't like the feeling of being owned. I thought that was the kind of relationship we had."

She smiled at him.

"It is, Nicholas. I plead temporary insanity. Come, you need a cool drink and a refreshing bath. You came for relaxation and pleasure and that, sir, is what you shall have."

Later, when he reflected back upon it, the night had been disappointing. It didn't begin to approach the eroticism of his dreams of late, and he decided the liaison had run its course.

Amanda was disappointed when Nicholas hadn't arrived in time for dinner. Jennifer wore the red gown to display all her golden loveliness for Beau Hampden. Amanda viewed her critically and was relieved that Nicholas had not allowed her to wear the gown. It was vulgar, blatant, and cut far too low for a respectable young lady.

Throughout the meal Amanda was amused to find Beau's eyes tray in her direction repeatedly. He had never even looked at her before, but now that Nicholas Peacock had married her, she had taken on a desirability that affected every male she came in contact with.

Aunt Billie's beady little eyes took in the situation avidly, and quick little nods accompanied her private thoughts.

"Has Nicholas not returned from Charleston?"

"He was delayed, Beau, but he'll be here later tonight, I'm sure."

"It's our poker night tomorrow. Perhaps we shouldn't bother this week,"

he offered politely.

"If Nicholas is expecting you, he will make a point of returning home."

She caught sight of Jenny's mocking eyes and added.

"In spite of diversions in the wicked city."

The following afternoon Amanda was relieved when Jennifer announced she was going over to see Brandon and would likely dine over there. Nicholas hadn't returned and Amanda was downright annoyed. She knew the young men would be coming for cards and there would be no host to greet them. To hell with it. I am a married woman. They will be guests in my home. I will play the hostess!

Amanda went off to consult with Samuel and found him in the library cum games-room filling the decanters with liquor.

"Samuel, the game hasn't been canceled, but there's no sign of my husband."

"Miz Mandy, y'all leave everythin' t'me. Masta Nick be home sho' nuff, yo' see."

"They won't be here for dinner, will they?"

she asked anxiously.

"No, ma'am, but here at Paradise we allus prepares lots o' food an' drink fo' poker night. Dem boys sure works up an appetite."

"Well Samuel, I've decided to play hostess until Nicholas gets here. I've known these boys since I was a child. If he doesn't bother to return, it won't matter in the least."

Samuel eyed her, knowing trouble was brewing. The master left the little filly with too much time on her hands and she was in danger of becoming bored. There was no greater potential for trouble on God's green earth than a bored female.

As Amanda wandered about the library, checking the decks of cards, the decanters of liquor, the crystal glasses, her ears were cocked for the sound of horses approaching. In the distance she heard the throbbing of a drum and remembered last year after the cotton was in, the slave quarters came alive every night with dancing and music. The slaves indulged in a form of superstitious religious rites that were most fascinating. Tomorrow I'll visit the Jackson slave cabins and talk to Jessie. Maybe they will let me join in their celebrations, or at least let me watch.

Her attention was diverted by two noisy young men who were arguing at the top of their lungs.

"Christ Almighty, King, even when I beat y'all fair an' square, you won't admit it!"

Duke Vickers swore.

"We agreed to race to the stables at Paradise and my horse was in a stall before yours,"

King argued.

"That's a goddamn technicality, and y'all know it."

Samuel issued them into the library, where King spied Amanda.

"Mandy you tell him. We raced over here and I had my mount stabled at Paradise while he was still outside."

"If you two think I'm settling disputes between two brothers crazy enough to shoot each other, you're mistaken."

Duke argued.

"Well shit... I mean shoot, it's got to be settled. He's got to pay me what he owes."

"What were the stakes?"

she asked innocently.

They both hesitated and went red. Duke admitted.

"Can't tell a lady."

"Oh hell, I'm married now, but never mind."

She held up her hands and handed them a deck of cards.

"Cut for it."

They both drew aces and the argument continued.

"Well hell, any damn fool knows the ace of spades beats the ace of diamonds,"

King argued.

"The only damned thing the ace of spades predicts is you're gonna be a dead brother if y'all keep this up."

"Boys, stop it,"

Amanda demanded.

"You are both uncivilized, yes and immature."

They both stopped and looked at the sixteen-year-old who was accusing them of immaturity. They saw that indeed Amanda looked a woman in her high-necked gown of turquoise.

She stood serenely before them with the candlelight shining on her upswept mass of hair, and catching the glitter of a very pretty pair of earrings.

"Duke, pour yourself a drink, and while you're at it, get one for me. Nicholas has been detained on business, so I'm filling in for him."

They gaped at her as she swallowed half a glass of bourbon and went to greet Beau Hampden, who had his younger brother Clay in tow. Beau gallantly bent over her hand and murmured sincerely.

"You look even more beautiful than you did last evening, Amanda."

She tapped him with her fan and said.

"You are a silver-tongued devil, Beau Hampden, like your father before you."

Clay gaped with open mouth at the vision that stood before him. Where was the Mandy Jackson who had sneaked off with him to tree coons at the last party?

"Beau, be a darlin' and help yourself to the bourbon and I'll have one too. Clay, don't make inroads on my husband's brandy like you do when you get near your father's,"

she admonished as if addressing a naughty boy. She compared the Hampden brothers and was at a loss. Beau was so attractive, he was a maiden's dream with his flowing blond mustaches and his elegantly cut clothes. Clay, as his name suggested, resembled a lump of mud beside his elder sibling, yet the boy was open and honest in an endearing way.

Amanda realized that the bourbon must have sharpened her perceptions as she looked at the Vickers brothers. They were big, raw-boned country boys, who resembled their big, raw-boned mother. They were at their shallow best with a drink in their hands and a piece of horseflesh between their legs. They are already half cut. I warrant even I have a better head for holding liquor than this terrible twosome.

Stuart Beverly and Ty Caldwell arrived together. Stuart looked rather alarmed when he saw Amanda splashing bourbon into glasses and including herself.

"Where's Nicholas?"

"That's what I'd like to know."

She smiled enigmatically.

"Come on, let's get down to some cards."

Start looked truly alarmed now.

"Miss Amanda, you can't play poker."

"'Course I can. Clay taught me."

"That isn't what I mean. If Nicholas knew you were drinking and gambling with us ol' boys, he'd be furious."

"Good! I'd rather deal with his fury than his indifference."

Her voice was too loud, and she knew she'd had way too much to drink by the way the room spun when she closed her eyes.

Stuart Beverly stood up.

"I think I'd better get Samuel."

"Stuart Beverly, you are nothing but a momma's boy, forever prating about decorum and appearances. This is my house and y'all are my guests. By all means get Samuel. It's time he brought in those shrimp and oysters they've been shucking all afternoon."

Samuel, fully aware of everything going on in the room, wheeled in a serving cart piled high with delicacies. He cast Amanda a warning glance that she chose to deliberately ignore.

She was determined to win a saddle for herself, as the only one she owned was the hated side-saddle. It did not prove difficult to talk Duke Vickers into putting up his best saddle, since he believed Mandy couldn't beat him at cards.

When it was her turn to deal, King blinked owlishly.

"By damn, you dealt those from the bottom of the deck!"

"Hellfire, you've had so much bourbon you can't see straight,"

she replied.

Beau looked amused and Clay kept mum, refusing to accuse his good friend, but Stuart Beverly said quietly.

"Miss Amanda, you were cheating."

She flared.

"If you'd said those damn words to Duke here, he'd shoot you!"

Ty Caldwell said.

"If Stuart says you were cheating, you were cheating."

Amanda laughed.

"Hells Bells, of course I was cheating. Such a fuss over nothing. How else can I win against experienced players like y'all?"

Nicholas arrived home at the same time that Brandon brought Jennifer home. They came through the front door together, and all three hurried to the library to see what the uproar was all about.

Amanda's brother and sister stopped dead on the threshold, aghast to find Mandy embrangled in a shouting match with a roomful of males.

Nicholas's shrewd gaze swept over the occupants of the room, while Jennifer gasped.

"Amanda, how dare you show us up with such a shameful exhibition?"

Mandy looked her straight in the eye.

"P... Pelican piss!"

Jennifer gasped her horror and ran from the room with her face flaming.

Nicholas strode into the room and swung Amanda up into his arms.

"Excuse me,"

he muttered and swiftly carried her upstairs.

"Lou!"

he called in a tone that brooked no dawdling. He set Amanda down on her bed. "She's as drunk as a fiddler's bitch. Undress her and get her to bed."

As Nicholas returned to the library, all held their breath. Even the Vickers boys who were liquored up knew they had done wrong and expected a tongue-lashing from the master of Paradise. Nick helped himself to some oysters.

"Whose deal?"

he asked smoothly.

The next day Amanda waited to be called to account for her shocking behavior, but the summons never came. At dinner she was slightly uncomfortable under Nicholas's scrutiny. He observed her from beneath lowered brows as if he were contemplating what to do with her.

As the conversation at table lagged, Jennifer spoke up.

"You know the farm that Mother left to Brandon? I've been simply dying to see the place, so Beau Hampden kindly offered to escort me there next week."

"Impossible,"

Nicholas said coldly.

Jenny turned wide blue eyes on him, "Sir?"

"It's out of the question, Jennifer. I forbid it."

She was almost speechless.

"May I be permitted to know why?"

she asked in a tight voice.

"A young lady with your upbringing should know the reason why. You cannot go careering off on a trip with a young man."

He looked her directly in the eye.

"No matter how well you know that young man."

She flung down her fork and it clattered inelegantly as it hit her plate. She pushed back her chair and departed with a tearful.

"Excuse me."

Startled, Aunt Billie, eyed Nicholas, and consumed her dessert with twice she speed she usually ate.

"I think I'll retire now."

Alone with her husband, Amanda waited for him to turn his wrath upon her. Finally, she dared raise her eyes to his.

He gave her a brooding look that gradually turned mocking.

"You expect me to play the heavy-handed father, but Amanda I am not your father, I am your husband."

His eyes glittered as he offered a cruel taunt.

"I suppose it will be an endless exercise in patience to wait for you to grow up and become the woman you look."

Amanda bit back a retort because she knew what she had done was childish, and also because she realized that in any encounter with him, either verbal or physical, he would emerge victorious. She stood and put her crumpled napkin on the table.

He mocked.

"Don't let me intimidate you to the point where you run up to your room."

"You are mistaken, sir. I am going out!"

She expected him to forbid her, when only cats were on the prowl, but when he did not, she had no option but to leave the house. Outside, the heady scent of the gardens filled her with a longing for... what? She didn't know. Then the throb of the drumbeat came to her and she was irresistibly lured to the Jackson Plantation's slave cabins.

Jessie did not want Amanda to stay.

"Our rites are secret. Yo' no wanna see when the lewd an' lecherous dead come among us."

"Yes I do, Jessie. You are the priestess. If you say I can stay, the others won't object."

"I am de Mambo. We are havin' water rites tonight by de river. It is strong magic. Ah may be mounted by Ioa-- it will only frighten yo'."

"No, no, Jessie, I swear. Give me an amulet for protection."

After a long silent moment, Jessie took a piece of hogwood bark, wrapped it in wild plum leaves, then put it into a tiny cloth bag that she hung around Amanda's neck. Then she took her hand and they slipped from Jessie's cabin into the darkness.

Amanda was fascinated as the slaves gathered about laughing and dancing. Some of the males had white painted faces, and they passed around a gourd filled with homemade liquor and hot peppers.

They formed a long line to the river, dancing the banda with wild contortions of belly and hips Down by the river the light from the moon reflected on the group and Mandy was slightly shocked to see that some of the slaves had cross-dressed. The women wore pants and the men wore dresses. They waded into the shallows then climbed back out.

Suddenly, Jessie became possessed and fell to the ground. She had taken on the characteristics of a snake and slithered her body along the ground. The crowd went wild; the drumbeat quickened and the men and women were grabbing each other.

Amanda, alarmed and a little afraid, decided she'd better get back to Paradise while the getting was good.

A tall, dark figure in the shadows, who had been watching her closely, breathed deeply with relief. Nicholas kept to the shadow of the trees as he followed his young wife home. Ten minutes after she entered the house, he went in and sought out Samuel.

"Come up, Sam, I have something important to discuss."

Inside Nick's bedroom, Samuel seated himself in a comfortable armchair and Nicholas sat opposite him. He offered him a cigar and lit it for him.

"I don't know a lot about voodoo, Sam. Educate me."

"Dat crazy stuff only fo' ignorant slaves. Dey believes illness come from bein' cursed. Dey imagine bad luck can be washed away in de river. De strong ones prey on de superstitions of de weak."

"I've known it was going on at this time of season for a few years now. I've never put a stop to it because I considered it a form of entertainment-- a way for the slaves to relieve their aggressions and frustrations. It's a form of social control, and I have no real objection to it."

"Well suh, ah suppose der is a good part to it. Dey have lotsa herbal medicines t'cure sickness, but der's a bad part to it. Dey call up de spirits o' de dead an' dey makes potent drinks outa strange plants dat send 'em crazy until dey all writhin' on de ground an' mountin' each other no better'n animals."

"I see. Thanks Sam."

Nicholas sat on long after Samuel retired for the night.

He had a decision to make, and he didn't want to make it for the wrong reasons.

Amanda could easily get swept up in this voodoo thing.

It holds a certain forbidden fascination, and she is vulnerable to its allure.

He knew he must stop it before she became involved; nip it in the bed, so to speak.

But the enigma was how to go about it? He could confront her of course.

Forbid her to associate with the slaves from the cabins, force her to stay indoors at night.

She would do her deliberate best to thwart such a ban, but in the end his word would be law.

He knew he could prohibit the practice altogether, make it taboo, but that would breed resentment against him, because Bernard Jackson had allowed it, and he too had closed his eyes to it until now.

Nicholas lit another cheroot and leaned back to contemplate the different avenues that were open to him.

One thing is certain.

I don't want Amanda flirting with voodoo.

She needs something in its place.

Something that will catch and hold her imagination.

Amanda needs freedom.

She hates to feel trapped.

I know to my cost she can be headstrong and willful.

Nicholas was haunted by her beauty and admired her spirit that accepted any daring challenge, but though he had been tolerant of her antics up to now, this voodoo thing made him realize he must gain more control over her.

She needs something to occupy her quick mind, capture her imagination, and hold her interest.

She may not be old enough to be a wife, but she is old enough for a romance, he decided.

Nicholas had no designs to take a sixteen-year-old to his bed, but on the other hand he had no intention of waiting two years for her either.

Amanda is my wife, and I will decide when this marriage will be consummated, all agreements with her father to the contrary.

The more he thought of it, the more he became convinced that Amanda needed a romantic interlude to fill all her waking and sleeping hours.

He was also wise enough to realize that if there was an element of secrecy about it, it would hold an irresistible appeal for Mandy.

The following evening, when dinner was over, and twilight floated into darkness, Nicholas went out into the gardens.

He slipped into the gazebo that stood at the far end of the rose garden.

Anyone walking to the Jackson Plantation from Paradise would have to pass this way.

The summer house had an ornately carved railing above which were screens.

Two sides of the six-sided gazebo were open lattices.

It held comfortable wicker chairs, a hammock, and hanging baskets of profusely blooming flowers.

Nicholas stood in the shadows and waited, not knowing if he wished her to come.

He could hear the drumbeat, and it beckoned.

It had a strange, pulsing quality that he could almost feel in his blood.

He did not realize how tense he was until he saw her coming, then the tension miraculously left him.

It was as if he had been waiting for this moment all his life.

Amanda moved slowly through the rose garden, the warm evening breeze ruffling her pale green lawn dress about her ankles as she came lightly down the path toward him.

He waited until she passed the summer house without sensing his presence, then called to her softly.

"Amanda..."

She turned quickly, with a fleeting look of surprise... guilt... fear? It was gone in a heartbeat, so he could not be sure. I'm not here to question her, only divert her.

"How lovely to meet you in the garden."

His voice was warm and deep, and held something intangible that intrigued her. She was indeed diverted, forgetting her destination the moment Nicholas was near.

"My head is filled with the scent of roses. We have the most beautiful garden that could ever be,"

she said dreamily.

"Shall we enjoy it together?"

He stepped from the shadows of the gazebo.

They walked side by side along the pebbled path that led past the labyrinth of the maze, and the moon played a game of hide and seek, coming from behind a cloud and touching everything with gold dust.

"At night the garden has a different beauty. It has a mystical aura like an imaginary place from a book, and because of the darkness, the heady scents are intensified."

He stopped and looked down at her.

"It is a most romantic place."

Amanda caught her breath, and she knew her pulses quickened at his words.

He moved on slowly and her steps matched his, in tune with all he was saying and feeling.

As they walked toward the reflecting lake, Nicholas reached out to capture her hand in his.

Her delicate fingers curled intimately into his large, bronzed hand, and she could hear her heartbeat pounding in her ears.

"You like things to be mysterious and enchanting, don't you?"

he mused softly.

"You like to blur the hard edges of reality and escape into a fantasy every once in a while."

She gazed up at him, wondering how he always guessed her innermost secrets.

He led her onto the ornamental bridge and they leaned there, hand in hand, in the scented moonlight and dreamed silently for long moments. He looked down at her upturned face that held the age-old allure of woman since time began.

"You may not be old enough for marriage, but I think you are ready to be wooed,"

he said low. His thumb brushed the pulse in her wrist and he felt it race madly at his words.

The water reflected the towering cypress and moss-draped oaks around its edge, as well as the bridge and the man and girl who stood so close upon it. She shivered at his closeness and laughed.

"A water sprite just went under the bridge."

He whispered.

"I refuse to believe it's fairy-haunted. I know why you shivered."

Though it was dark, he knew she blushed.

"Come,"

he said, and she followed.

In and out of the moonlight and shadows they walked down their own driveway, where the trees arched their branches to form a cathedral of dark green to guard their secrets.

As they skirted the house, the flower beds offered up their various perfumes to the hot night air. The spicy fragrance of the pinks mingled with the heady scent of the nicotine plants, and night-blooming stocks.

"It evokes comparison with the Garden of Eden. It must have been similar to this. A paradise for the two who loved there,"

he murmured.

"Shall I be Eve?"

she whispered.

"You shall,"

he affirmed, and brought her small hand to his lips.

Each finger received his kiss, and she was enthralled with the pretty gesture.

Their feet sank deeply into the cushiony green turf of the lawn that stretched down to the river.

The water looked smooth as shadowed silk, and gave off a murmuring song that was soothing to the senses.

The insistent drumbeat had stopped, yet Nicholas's blood ran through his veins like rich red wine, and he knew he must curb his rampant male desire so that he would not frighten his young wife.

"Whenever I feel unhappy, the sound of the water always calms my troubles."

"Do you see this little path between the laurel bushes? I think we should put a garden seat in that alcove and call it a tranquility area."

"Yes, it's a hidden spot where a person could be alone."

"Where two people could be alone,"

he suggested, squeezing her hand.

They stood beneath an oak that had a wisteria vine, thick as a man's waist twisted about its massive trunk.

The mauve petals were floating on the warm breeze and dropping into the water.

One fell and caught in Amanda's hair and as Nicholas reached out to brush it away, a tendril curled possessively about his fingers.

"One of life's sweetest pleasures is playing with a beautiful woman's hair,"

he told her softly.

Amanda felt as if she were melting with love. She couldn't trust herself to speak, as she sighed raggedly.

All logical thoughts fled his mind, but as he reached out his arms to crush her to him, he saw how untried she was, and forced himself to cool his ardor.

He withdrew his arms, and they continued their walk, past the gin mill.

The stable's aroma of horses and leather came to their nostrils in a rising miasma in the heated night.

Amanda had never felt so happy. She was entranced like a sleepwalker and would have stayed hand-fast with Nicholas the whole night through if he desired it.

They ended up back in the rose garden where their tryst had begun. He reached for a bloom, denuded it of thorns and placed it behind her ear.

"Perfect for you-- a Maiden's Blush Rose."

His fingers dipped to the neckline of her gown where he plucked the tiny cloth bag Jessie had given her.

"You won't need this,"

he murmured.

Again she was wide-eyed with wonder. It was as if her husband could penetrate her thoughts, her soul. Nicholas was all the protection she would ever need.

He drew both her hands to his lips and murmured against them.

"Amanda, tonight was for you and I alone. Let's not share it with the others."

She nodded, feeling exactly as he did. It was their delicious secret. No one would ever know.

"Goodnight Nicholas,"

she breathed.

"Goodnight love."

She carried his words with her to bed.

During the course of the next day neither Nicholas nor Amanda, by look or word, gave any indication that anything was different than it had been the day before. As usual they were never alone together, and Nicholas was careful to use the formal address of 'Miss Amanda'.

The summer heat had lasted right into the autumn months this year. If anything, today was hotter than yesterday, and the night brought little relief.

Jennifer came into the dining room carrying a large palmetto fan.

"Ah declare this heat is just awesome. Can't something be done about it?"

She looked coolly pretty in a blue sprigged muslin.

"Paradise is much cooler than our house,"

Amanda told her.

"And dinner was cooked in the outdoor kitchen. It could be much worse."

"Ah don't know how. Nicholas, would you please get one of the servants to operate the shoo-fly?"

"Of course, Miss Jennifer,"

he answered formally.

"Samuel, tell Fanny we need the ceiling fan worked, please."

"Yessir, shiftless wench shoulda had it gwine an hour since."

Nicholas smiled at his wife.

"When I first arrived from England, the heat almost felled me, but now I'm so acclimatized, I welcome the warm nights."

He caught her gaze and held it until she blushed and lowered her eyelashes. Nicholas hid a smile.

"I received a note from Mrs. Beverly inviting us to a corn roast tonight. Could we all go?"

Jenny asked hopefully.

Nicholas declined.

"I had something else in mind for this evening."

Jennifer looked to Amanda.

"Your husband won't allow me to attend alone. You come with me, Mandy."

Amanda hesitated.

"No, I'm sorry Jenny, but Laurel Beverly is a jealous cat and I don't care for her company."

With a straight face Nicholas suggested blithely.

"I'd have no objection if Aunt Billie and Mammy Lou went along with you."

Jennifer's look of hatred almost pinned him to the wall.

Aunt Billie looked up eagerly from her glass.

"I'll have to go up and get my wrap."

Amanda jumped up.

"I'll get it Aunt Billie. You'll need your reticule with your tonic."

Billie always carried a flask when she moved from home in case there was no liquor provided.

When Amanda left the room, Nicholas asked Jenny.

"What is the trouble with Mandy and the Beverly girl?"

"Oh you can't blame her for not wanting to visit her friends, poor little thing. She gets teased something powerful for not being a real wife. I feel so sorry for her."

She quickly put her hand over her mouth to give the impression that she shouldn't have let that slip out.

He gave her an intense look.

"I cherish my wife so much, she is to be envied, not pitied. I think Amanda was closer to the mark when she mentioned jealousy."

Jennifer's lips compressed with her own envy. She said petulantly.

"By the way, I shall be going to visit the farm in Blackville next week after all. Brandon has agreed to escort me."

"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.