The Possessive Kiss: Victoria's Story: Book Two of The Kiss Series

by Michelle Hillstrom

  When they finished eating Victoria asked Wesley if he would like to walk with her in the gardens, but he refused. “Actually, I was going to suggest that Thomas, father, and Mr. De’Muerre join me in the library for brandy and cigars.” He refused to look at Victoria while he suggested this. The men all cheerfully agreed stating that it sounded like a fine idea, indeed.

  Victoria was crestfallen as she, her sister, mother, and Mrs. Brennan all retired to the sitting room. Victoria led Samantha to a window seat to sit separate from the older women. “Sam, tell me truthfully, have I changed so very much since our men left us?”

  Samantha looked at her sister with confusion and then placed a reassuring hand upon her shoulder. “No, Tory, not at all. Why are you asking?”

  “I just wonder why Wesley would refuse to walk with me in the garden after dinner. I just wonder if now that he has returned home, he has changed his mind about me. Perhaps, after so much time apart, I do not live up to the memory of me that he carried in his heart for so long. Maybe war has changed him and he is no longer the Wesley that he once was, the Wesley that loved me and all of my unlady-like quirks. Perhaps now that we are together again he realizes that his feelings for me have left him. It happens, you know. They say that absence makes the heart grow fonder, but perhaps it has not done so, in this instance.”

  “Oh, Lord, sister. You are a ninny. All women wish to be loved the way that Wesley loves you. If you think that he does not, then you are blind and dim-witted. He probably just feels uncomfortable in the presence of women right now, he has been in a camp full of men for so long. Or maybe he has things that he needs to talk about with the men that he cannot talk to you about or doesn’t want to talk to you about because he does not wish to upset you. Give him some time to adjust before you make any rash conclusions in regards to his feelings for you.”

  “Yes, I suppose I am acting a bit crazy. I suppose I am just scared of losing Wesley, of him leaving me the way that Christopher did. The way that Wesley wouldn’t look at me just now, it reminded me of the way that Christopher wouldn’t look at me that night at the Brennan’s party before he told me about Lydia.”

  “That will never happen, sister. I am sure of it,” Sam comforted her sister and wrapped her in a warm hug, just as the men emerged from the library. Samantha pondered their sudden appearance. Surely they could not have finished their cigars already? she thought.

  The men were in high-spirits and their conversation full of laughter as they joined the women. Wesley stopped and stood in front of Victoria. “May I have that walk now, Tory?” he offered her his hand.

  Victoria hesitated and shared a shrewd look with her sister, who motioned her away with her hand. “Yes, that will be very good, Wesley.” She took his arm and he led her out to the winter garden. They strolled slowly through the rows of multi-colored pansies, violas, snapdragons, and petunias. Sweet alyssum, sweet peas, poppies, and irises also dotted the flowerbeds. Fragrant azaleas and magnolias heavily scented the garden.

  Wesley led Victoria to a stone bench and pulled her down to sit beside him. “I’m sorry I had to refuse your request to walk earlier. I had some business that I wanted to discuss with our fathers and I needed to take care of it right away.”

  “Oh, don’t worry about it. I understand,” Victoria felt rather silly then for her distress earlier. “What business? Or can I ask? If it is better for me not to know that is okay too. I know that there are things about the war that I should not know.”

  “No, actually it is perfectly all right for you to ask. It concerns you too, actually,” his lips twitched as if fighting back a grin.

  “It does?”

  “Yes,” he paused and stood up pacing, thoughtfully and then with a short laugh he continued. “Do you know what I thought, that first day that we met, when I pulled you out of the road?”

  Victoria groaned. “No, I shudder to think.”

  “I thought that you were the most reckless, stubborn, thankless, and condescending woman that I had ever met.” Victoria made to speak, but Wesley returned to the bench, took her hands in his, and hushed her with a quick peck, leaving his forehead to rest upon hers as he continued with his eyes closed, breathing in that sensual scent of magnolia that he had so missed. “But I also thought that you were easily the most strikingly majestic beauty in all of the world. Then I got to know you and I discovered that you are also kind, generous, witty, and talented. You are dainty and delicate but strong-willed and tough. You are all that any man could ask for in a mate. You will make a fine mother and a superior wife.

  “You are my heaven, Victoria, for without you I am in hell. I can't imagine growing old with anyone else, nor do I want to. I know that you are the only one I want to share the rest of my life with. That day on the street, I knew I'd met my match. It was only a matter of time until we arrived at this moment. This moment, when I ask you to allow me the pleasure of being your husband.” Wesley took a small, sparkly item from his coat pocket. He held the item out for Victoria to see. It was a ruby ring. The ruby was in the shape of a heart and upon further inspection the heart was held by a golden band, which surrounded the ruby in the shape of hands and a crown. It was a traditional Irish Claddagh. “So tell me Miss De’Muerre,” Wesley continued. “Do you think that you would find it agreeable to be my wife?”

  Chapter Ten

  Victoria sat concealed under a Weeping Willow on the banks of a pond wearing her long sleeved white and red dress that was made of cotton and corduroy. The red winter cloak that was spread about beneath her provided a barrier against the cool, hard ground. Ducks and geese floated on the pond, enjoying their winter stay in Louisiana. The evening was approaching peacefully as the sun began to set, painting the sky with oranges, reds, and purples. The only sounds were those of the farm animals milling about in their corrals. Victoria gazed off into the distance and watched the smoke rise from the chimneys of Mossy Oak Manor. The sun dipped lower and lower in the western sky and the air was growing colder by the minute. A small shiver shook Victoria’s body.

  No doubt, the callers at the party would begin to wonder where the guests of honor had wandered off too. It had been a good while since they had wandered off for alone time. Her gaze fell to the ruby ring that she now wore on her left ring finger with the heart pointing out to her fingertips. Wesley had explained to her that this symbolized their engagement. Once they are married, the ring will be turned with the heart pointing back to her wrist.

  Victoria sighed in contentment. She was engaged to the love of her life and the only thing that could make her happier now was for the war to be over enabling Wesley to stay here safely with her forever. The crunch of a twig behind her told Victoria that Wesley had returned from chasing the hound that had followed them out here to the pond and proceeded to dot their outfits with muddy paw prints. Wesley plopped down and wrapped his arms around her. He was warm and smelled heavenly. Her body was warmed quickly as his body shielded her from the cold.

  “We should be getting back lest there be more talk about us. I would hate to ruin your reputation any further and be forced to cast you aside in the middle of our engagement party. I can’t have you tarnishing my family’s good name.” His lips murmured each Irish accented word as they brushed along her neck and shoulder. He still couldn’t believe that it had been five days since this delectable Southern Belle had agreed to spend the rest of her life with him.

  “Aack!” Victoria shrieked and pushed him off playfully. “You rogue! Take me home before I change my mind and decide I shan’t marry you, but take the life of a nun. Rogues like you leave a woman wishing for a simpler life.” Victoria overly exaggerated her accent and fluttered her eyelashes as she fulfilled her role as the simpering Southern Belle.

  Wesley growled and pulled Victoria to her feet. He grabbed her in his arms twirled her about in a circle. Hannah and the driver stood laughing at the couple from their position beside the carriage. “Don’t tease me so Mavourneen, you’ll be breaking my poor heart
. I can’t imagine a life without you beside me always,” Wesley whispered as he sat Victoria back down on her feet. He leaned in toward her his lips nearly brushing hers as he whispered, “I would do anything to make you happy and keep you safe always. Do you know that?”

  Victoria tiptoed and softly pressed her lips to his. “I do.”

  They later returned to the engagement party, slightly disheveled from their secret rendezvous, to a round of rowdy applause and cheers. Despite the fact that many at the party were already sloshed from an abundance of wine, champagne, brandy, and sherry it seemed that every guest took it upon their self to toast the couple. Perhaps many of the guests just wanted to take advantage of the smallest piece of joy and good news that could be found.

  Victoria was pleased at the number of people that turned out. She had worried about all of her acquaintances. It had been a long time since any of them had really seen each other. She had long wondered how many of them still resided in the area, and at times she feared the worst as well. She had heard so many stories about innocent civilians being murdered by the troops. She also was pleased at the number of returning men. It seemed that all of her friends were still safe, but she knew that it wasn’t true for everyone. Many had lost cousins and uncles. She knew that some of her mother’s friends had lost sons and she had been too distracted with the return of Wesley and Thomas to take stock of who had or hadn’t gotten off the boat weeks earlier when they collected Thomas and Wesley from the dock.

  That night, after the partygoers had returned to their homes, or were tucked away in the guest rooms, Victoria crept from her bedchamber, clothed in her fine white muslin gown. Her soft lambskin dancing shoes were soundless as she tiptoed down the two flights of stairs and made her way to the back kitchen door. The only light to guide her way were the slivers of moonlight that peaked through the cracks in the draperies.

  The kitchen door creaked as she opened and quickly shut it behind her. She grimaced at the noise as she stepped out onto the small kitchen porch of which Victoria had fond summer memories. When Victoria had been younger, she would often sit on the porch with the kitchen staff as they cracked beans, peeled potatoes, or husked corn. “Wesley?” Victoria called out timidly. She looked around and took two tiny steps forward. “Wesley?” she called out louder.

  There was a rustle in the gooseberry bushes. “Here, Tory; I am here.” Wesley stepped out into the moonlight with his hand extended out to Victoria.

  A glowing grin spread across Victoria’s face as she bounced off the stoop and reached out to take his hand in hers. With a giggle of shared secrets, they crept off together toward the dark outskirts of Mossy Oak Manor’s land. They snuck past the huts of sleeping slaves; even the chickens didn’t stir in their coop as the couple tiptoed by. Victoria and Wesley spotted a glow on the horizon. They were close to their destination.

  Wild drums and chanting could be heard as they reached the top of the hill and a dilapidated barn came into view. The glow that they had spotted came from within the barn where a bonfire was raging. The barn had been built as part of the original settlement on the property, but was no longer in use, except for clandestine meetings such as these. Hand in hand, Victoria and Wesley entered the barn, hesitantly. The drumming and chanting stopped instantly. Wisteria, irises, and other native flowers draped the interior of the barn. At the back of the barn stood alters covered in various colored flowers, food, items of great treasure, and jars of beverages. These different items were placed on each alter to appease the different voodoo deities. Negroes were packed into the building; each wore white sack dresses, some wore decorative turbans, scarves, or belts. They all slunk back from the center of the room, save for one.

  Polly walked toward Wesley and Victoria who still stood at the entrance of the weathered, whitewashed barn. She was majestic in her white sack dress that was tied to fit snuggly at the waist with a red scarf belt. From the belt hung an odd assortment of talismans ranging from bones to flowers to stones. Displayed predominately on a leather string, a Gris-gris hung about Polly’s neck. Her black curly hair stood high and puffy on top of her head, but tied back from her face with red-beaded scarf.

  Polly stood tall and proud with her head held high, gone was the shrinking violet that Victoria saw tiptoeing about the big house. She opened her arms to Victoria and Wesley in welcome. “Ah, sweetlings, come to Mambo Polly.” She spoke to them in a way that would be unacceptable anywhere but here. Here she was not a timid slave girl; in this place, this dilapidated barn, she was a voodoo queen, ruler of all that she could see and all that she could manipulate through her charms and voodoo practices.

  The couple walked to Polly and she embraced them both in a warm hug. “Shall we start?” she asked them and with nervous grins on their faces, they nodded in agreement. Polly led Wesley and Victoria to stand under a wedding arbor, which stood in front of one of the altars. The altar was covered in red, gold, and navy blue. It held offerings of rum and pork. This was the altar of Erzulie Dantor, the Loa of love, passion, romance, and jealousy.

  The slaves sang out “Erzulie Ti-Jean's woman, mistress of the house, Erzulie Ti-Jean's woman, mistress of the house, Don't yell, it's you who carries the new houngan, Don't yell, it's you who carries the stronger spells, Erzulie Ti-Jean's woman, mistress of the house, my paket is all tied up. Seven stabs of the knife, seven stabs of the dagger, Lend me the basin, so I can vomit my blood, Seven stabs of the knife, seven stabs of the dagger, Lend me the basin, so I can vomit my blood, My blood is pouring down.”

  Polly positioned Wesley and Victoria so that they stood under the arbor facing one another in front of her. With one hand on Victoria’s shoulder and one hand on Wesley’s shoulder, Polly began to speak.

  “Mande benediksyon pou sa a koup. Mande benediksyon pou sa a sendika yo. Link kè yo pou tout tan plis ankò. Yo pral tankou yon epi pa janm divòse. Lanmou se nan yo e yo pral nan renmen. Pa gen moun ki pral separe yo, yo paske yo te byen konekte ak chak lòt pou tout tan.”

  As Polly said the words, she removed her hands from their shoulders, pulled a small dagger from her belt, and cut a small slit into the hand of Victoria and then Wesley. Polly then began tying a rope, winding it around and linking Wesley and Victoria’s hands together so that their open wounds touched and began to bleed together. After that, Polly took a swig of some foul smelling beverage, past it to each of them and they took a sip as well. She took a stain of red berries and with her thumb, placed a dot over the heart of both Victoria and Wesley.

  Polly finished speaking and the slaves that stood on the outskirts of the barn began to hoot and shout in joy. The drums began to beat out a pounding rhythm once more as the slaves began to dance in their strange, vulgar way, and their shadows danced along with them reflecting every movement on the wall of the barn. Sweat beaded and dripped down their bodies as the combination of exertion from dancing and the heat of the fire raised the temperature within the barn. Two slaves brought forth a broom and Wesley and Victoria jumped over it in unison, which brought on more cheers and applause.

  Polly untied the couple and Victoria marveled at the fact that neither one of their hands bled any longer; in fact you couldn’t even tell that they had been cut. Now untied physically, but bonded spiritually by Mambo Polly, Voodoo Queen, and beloved slave girl, Victoria and Wesley hugged Polly once again in thanks. Victoria then asked, “Polly what did you say during the ceremony? Can you translate it for me?”

  “The basic idea was that I asked the Loas and Orishas to bless you both separately and as a couple. Then I bonded you together as one heart, one soul, and one love. You are each a part of one another now and you cannot be separated, none will come between you, and you will always find each other should you be physically separated either by distance or by death.”

  Victoria looked toward Wesley worriedly. Magically linked or not, she could never leave this man. Her heart belonged to him since the first time she saw him after he yanked her out of the street, with his brown eyes seething
down upon her with worry and the dewdrops clinging to that rebellious piece of hair that fell into his eyes. The thought of losing him, of him dying, broke her heart in two. Victoria grabbed Wesley’s hand squeezing it. He looked down at her, brushed a stray strand of hair back behind her ear, and kissed her.

  Wesley knew the dismal thoughts that played through Victoria’s mind. In just a few days, he would be returning to the front, to the blasted war that has thus far kept him from marrying her. Tonight they took the only steps forward that he dare. They were engaged and now bonded in a Voodoo wedding ceremony, but he refused to legally marry her in case something happened. He would not leave her a widow. Now at least, they had shared their love for each other in some kind of ceremony and that would have to do until he returned to Victoria safe and whole. He wanted to wipe the fear from Victoria’s thoughts. She should be focusing on the joy of the moment. He slid the ring he had given her off of her finger, flipped it around, and replaced it on her finger with a kiss upon her knuckle.

  “Victoria, mavourneen, the story of our love is only beginning. We will have the rest of our lives to write our own happy ending, starting from this very moment. I promise you, no one will work harder to make you happy or cherish you more than me. I have flipped your ring around, because as far as I am concerned we are as close as any husband and wife could be. I promise you, that when my time is up in April, you and I will do this the right way. We will have a lavish wedding banquet and I will take you as my wife in front of all of our friends and family. I will make you my wife in the eyes of our Lord and the Law.”