When the Splendor Falls

by Laurie McBain

  “All right, dear. I’ll help you with it,” Althea said over her shoulder as she tried to waken the snoring Carmelita and send her to her own bed.

  “I’ll help you with the cradle, Mama,” Noelle offered, and temporarily giving up on the sleeping Carmelita, Althea took her daughter up on the offer. Each taking an end of the cradle, Althea the heavier covered part, they had just managed to get it through the door and had started down the corridor, when strong hands took the cradle from them.

  Althea glanced up in surprise, then smiled when Neil lifted the cradle high, relieved they didn’t have to carry it any farther, for it was heavier than it looked.

  “Leigh took Lucinda back to your room and was coming to help with the cradle,” Althea said, hiding a yawn behind her hand. “Say good night to her for us, will you?”

  “I will,” Neil said, bidding them good night.

  Leigh was pressing a kiss against Lucinda’s soft dark curls when the door opened and she said without looking, “She’s asleep now. Just a minute, Althea, and I’ll help with the cradle.”

  “That won’t be necessary,” Neil said, stepping inside with the cradle and quietly closing and locking the door behind him.

  Leigh glanced up in surprise, looking for Althea.

  “Althea said to tell you good night,” he said, placing the cradle near the rocking chair in the corner of the room. “She and Noelle were carrying it down the hall and I gave them a hand,” he explained, eyeing her thoughtfully.

  “Oh,” Leigh managed to comment, looking away from the glint in his pale eyes as she carefully placed the sleeping child in the cradle, taking a great deal of time and care in covering her, tucking the tiny pink hand beneath the soft downy quilt.

  Leigh stood up, glancing around nervously for a moment before she turned to face him. She heard the strains of music drifting across the rancho yard and caught his eye. “I’m not going to return to the barbecue,” she said, glancing at the door as if to say he was welcome to go.

  But Neil had no intention of leaving. “I couldn’t let this night end without dancing even one dance with my wife, especially since it has become such a night for celebration,” he murmured.

  “Oh, well…thank you, but I really don’t want to go back out, I’ve already taken off my slippers,” Leigh said, gesturing to the pair of bronze silk slippers by the bed, the long ribbons tangled as if she’d kicked them off.

  Neil smiled. Suddenly he found himself remembering another pair of slippers, satin ribbons tangled, that he’d seen in her room at Travers Hill the night of their wedding—a night he would never forget. “That’s quite all right,” Neil replied, “because I thought I’d claim my dance right here.”

  And without waiting for her reply, he stepped forward and took Leigh in his arms, his steps shortened for the smaller space as he moved around the room, holding his wife in his arms. “Our first dance,” he said, his words soft against her ear. “I’ve waited a long time for this.”

  “Yes,” Leigh said, her voice a breath of a whisper.

  “I never had the chance to dance with you in Virginia,” he said. “You were very beautiful the night of Blythe’s sixteenth birthday party; in fact, I’d never seen such a beautiful woman, and I wanted you that night, but you were beyond my reach then,” he said, his voice roughening as he remembered the frustration of knowing she belonged to another man. “You are even more beautiful tonight, and now you are mine. We are husband and wife, Leigh Braedon,” he said slowly, savoring the name as his lips touched the gentle curve of neck revealed beneath the long curls clustered with several thick loops of braids over her ear and held with tiny pearled pins. His mouth moved along the slope of shoulder, pushing the small cap sleeve from its anchoring position, the décolletage falling lower to reveal the perfume-scented curve between her breasts. He bent her slightly back in his arms, his lips touching the velvety softness of her flesh.

  His hands moved from her waist, along her back, and in a minute she felt the bodice of her gown fall slightly. Then the fastenings at her waist gave way and the gown spread apart and was left on the floor as she was lifted free of the tangle of material and waltzed around the room in her petticoats, his laughter coming huskily.

  “I’ve always had a fondness for you in petticoats,” he said, his steps slowing until they stood unmoving in the center of the room, the lamp casting a golden glow over them. His hands slid along her arms, caressing her, his mouth following his touch, and Leigh shivered, feeling his lips on the soft inner flesh of her arm, in the delicate contour of her elbow, where she had touched the heady perfume of jessamine, then pressing into her palm, and moving along each finger. Then her petticoats landed in a swirl of lace and ribbons around her ankles. Suddenly she could breathe easier as his fingers unfastened her corset, the offending boned silk contraption landing on top of the petticoats and gown. He found the softness of her freed body, his opened hands encompassing her ribs, holding her captured between them for a moment, as if he sought to touch the heart beating so wildly, then they moved to her waist, his fingertips nearly touching around the slender width, then she felt them sliding up to cup her breasts, still hidden beneath a froth of lace.

  But when they moved away from her waist, her pantalettes slid downward around her stockinged feet, the tabs loosened by a deft touch. Leigh drew in her breath as she felt his hand against the bareness of her buttock, then around the curve of bared hip and across her taut belly, his fingers briefly, tantalizingly touching the soft hair between her thighs before moving beneath the fine linen of her chemise to her breasts, his callused palms rubbing against the soft under-curve, then the hardness of her nipples. Leigh felt the coolness of the night air against her hot skin as he tugged against the drawstrings of her chemise and the gathered material loosened to fall from her, leaving her naked before him except for her silk-stockinged legs.

  He held her away from him for a second, his searing gaze burning her as it moved over her, then he pulled her into his arms, his mouth finding hers, his kiss enticingly demanding, his hands moving over her intimately as his mouth opened against hers, parting her lips as his knee eased her thighs apart and she could feel the hardness of him pressing against her as his tongue touched hers.

  Their lips clung, then separated, and Leigh felt his hand against her throat, then the necklace was removed, his hands gentle as they removed the earrings from her ears. Then his hands found the pearl-studded pins, pulling them one after another from her hair and scattering them as he tugged the braids and curls free, his fingers threading through the long strands until her hair hung in thick, shining waves over her shoulders. He picked her up, holding her close against his chest, staring down intently into her face, his lips seeking hers, tasting deeply of them before he placed her on the bed. Standing before her, he slowly disrobed, his pale eyes never leaving her flushed face.

  Leigh’s breathing felt as restricted as if she still wore the punishing corset as she watched Neil disrobe before her, until he stood naked, his broad shoulders and muscular chest tapering down to the narrow waist, hips, and flat belly she remembered from the first time she’d seen him. His manhood was erect, and Leigh felt the stirrings of desire deep within her as she watched him come to the bed, his thighs long and sinewy with muscle. He sat on the edge of the bed, staring at her, then his hand took the lace-edged garters from her legs, his hand lingering and caressing the soft flesh as he slowly unrolled her stockings and pulled them off. Then she felt the fiery touch of his body next to hers when he took her in his arms, his mouth finding hers in long, breathless kisses that left her lips tender.

  He moved to lie beneath her, liking the feel of her slenderness on top of him, the heat of her body burning into him. His hands moved over the delicate curving of buttock and thigh, sliding between and touching her, then holding her molded against him, his manhood caught between their bodies, pressing intimately against her thigh. He buried his face between her firm breasts, then his lips moved over the taut nipples, his tong
ue circling them, teasing the bud as he suckled it, increasing her desire as she felt his teeth bite gently against the sensitive flesh. His mouth moved lower, across the delicate curve of stomach and hip, his lips leaving a trail of fire until she gasped when she felt his fingers probing gently between her thighs, moving deeper as they sought the sensuous core of her. Leigh felt the sensations begin, moving through her in waves of delight and she moved against his hand, seeking a fuller satisfaction from the contact, a filling of the aching emptiness inside her. He moved lower, his hands against the trembling of her thighs, then his fingers moved closer, holding her apart. Shocked, she felt the roughness of his hard cheek against her inner thigh, the soft warmth of his tongue penetrating her, moving inside her, and she would have withdrawn from so intimate a contact, but his hands held her hips against him, and even when she writhed beneath his touch, coming close to pain as the feelings spiraled through her until she was almost crying with pleasure, he held her bound to him. She felt as if she would faint from the erotic pleasure he was bringing her and she reached out, grasping his shoulders, then his golden hair, pulling against him.

  He rose above her, kneeling between her spread thighs, catching his breath when he felt her fingers trailing with a feathery touch across the flatness of his belly to the hair matted at his groin, touching him, feeling him gently as she held his manhood in her hand, her thumb sliding along its length as he throbbed hard and pulsing in the softness of her hand and she aroused him with her touch.

  With a groan, he lifted her, her thighs moving around his hips with an instinctive knowledge as she fitted herself to him, allowing him the greatest access. He entered the tight folds, the physical joining with her robbing him of his breath as they became one, moving as one, the soft warmth of her surrounding him, holding him sheathed deep within her.

  He remained slightly above her, his arms positioned by her shoulders holding him from touching her flesh, and gazed into her face, wanting to see her pleasure, the deep blue of her eyes, heavy-lidded with passion, her lips parted breathlessly, the delicate flush on her cheeks and light beading of perspiration on her forehead as he felt her muscles pulling him deeper inside of her, feeling her swelling around him and increasing his pleasure.

  Leigh stared up into his face. His hair was golden, and his face was like a mask of bronze, with finely chiseled lips and high cheekbones, his pale eyes a bright silvery green. She felt as if he were a god, bringing such pain and ecstasy to her, and she raised to touch his lips with hers, unprepared for the passion of his kiss as he lowered himself until their burning flesh touched, igniting like wildfire until it melded together from the feverish heat of their coupling. He began slowly, thrusting into her, shivering as he felt her clinging to him, her hips moving rhythmically with his. Leigh felt the world beginning to spin around her as she felt him thrusting deeper and deeper inside her, gradually increasing the rhythm, the pulsating movement building until it became unbearable and she could not endure it any longer. She climaxed several times before he ever came, as he held himself poised, watching the enraptured expression flashing across her face, prolonging the intense pleasure of denial until he couldn’t bear the tightly coiled, throbbing sensations and thrust into her with a final, powerful surge as he poured his seed deep, where he hoped it would flower within her womb and they would know the joy of having created a child.

  Leigh would never leave him then, he thought, holding her coupled to him, feeling her breast pounding against his, her lips joined to his, her long, slender legs entwined with his. She would never leave him now, he thought triumphantly, remembering the look of sadness and longing on her face this evening when she’d thought of Travers Hill and the family that would leave her soon, and he vowed in that moment that he would make her forget. Someday he would know her full love, but for now he would keep her with him out of her body’s need for his. He had seduced her, making her erotically aware of her body. And, soon, maybe not tonight, or tomorrow, but soon, she would be with child—his child. She could never leave him then.

  He stared down at her face, her lips reddened and full from his kisses, her lashes fluttering against her pale cheeks. He slid his hand through a long strand of silken hair, pressing his lips against her breast, his arm like an iron band around her waist as he held her close against his heart until she slept, his own breathing becoming deep and steady as his eyes closed.

  He took her again before dawn, their bodies pale in the darkness, moving together as one, their lips devouring and insatiable as they mated and formed a bond that would be hard to break, for even though unspoken, each knew love in their hearts, and their souls touched.

  * * *

  “Well, ’bout time you opened those sleepy eyes,” Jolie said, standing with hands on hips as she grinned down at Leigh.

  “What time is it?” Leigh asked groggily, stretching lazily; then feeling the cool air against her bare shoulders and breasts as the comforter fell away, she jerked it up, huddling beneath the covers and staring at Jolie in embarrassment as if she’d done something that wasn’t proper.

  But Jolie’s grin just widened, because in her opinion, a man’s place was in his wife’s bed, not some narrow daybed. That wasn’t proper. “You’ve missed breakfast, honey, though that Mister Neil sure did have himself an appetite this mornin’. Hmmmm, hmmmm, he sure did. Reckon that man’s been mighty hungry,” she chuckled, beginning to pick up the stockings, chemise, pantalettes, corset, petticoats, blue velvet gown, and pair of silk slippers that were piled in the order they’d fallen the night before.

  Leigh’s face turned a bright scarlet as she remembered exactly how hungry he’d been.

  “This is a mighty fine day we’ve got. I told Steban I thought I heard thunder yesterday afternoon, but that stubborn ol’ man never believes me. ’Course, we’ve got the proof, honey. I’ve never see such a night as when Mister Guy comes walkin’ over to me an’ took that spoon out of my hand an’ dips it into the pot like he can see an’ takes himself a big spoonful of meat an’ pops it in his mouth an’ tells me it’s not salty enough. Then he winked at me, lil’ honey,” she said, sniffing with the remembered pleasure of tears. “An’ that ol’ man says he knew first.”

  Leigh stared up at Jolie’s figure as she busied herself with shaking out the wrinkled petticoats and gown and hanging them up, then putting the stockings, chemise, and pantalettes into a pile to be laundered.

  “I’ve got your tray right here. Fixed you a nice breakfast, honey. An’ already got the girls bringin’ your tub an’ hot water an’ we’ll have you up an’ dressed in no time,” she said, picking up the tray and placing it over Leigh’s lap, then she walked away, then back, then away, then glanced over her shoulder at Leigh, who’d been watching her nervous pacing curiously, for she’d never seen Jolie so uneasy.

  “You haven’t been hearing thunder again, have you?” Leigh asked, smiling up at her, but Jolie’s expression remained serious.

  “Miss Leigh,” she addressed her formally, which gave Leigh cause for worry, Jolie’s voice suddenly shaking slightly as she came to sit on the edge of the bed, her coppery hand touching Leigh’s arm affectionately. “Honey, you know Steban an’ me loves you like we were your own mama an’ papa. Couldn’t love anyone more than we do you. You’ll always be my lil’ sweet baby. But, honey, Steban an’ me want to go back to Virginia with Mister Guy an’ Miss Althea. Honey, we belong back there, not out here. We want to go back to Travers Hill. That’s home, lil’ honey. That’s where our Sweet John is. Want to be close to him. Wouldn’t have thought of leavin’, ’ceptin’ now that you an’ Mister Neil are sleepin’ together proper-like, I figure you have a good man, an’ I wouldn’t leave you to no one else but him. He’s meant for you, always has been since that summer you stole his breeches. You stealin’ them, an’ findin’ that leather medicine pouch with them, that was a sign. An’ his magic saved you, lil’ honey. Nothing’s ever goin’ to hurt you. An’ I’ve been watchin’ him like a fox. He couldn’t live without
you. He loves you that much. An’ he’s a good man. He won’t ever hurt you none. Wouldn’t leave otherwise, you believe that, honey?” she asked worriedly, seeing the look of shock on Leigh’s face, her wide blue eyes brimming with unshed tears as she nodded, knowing that there was nothing she could do to keep Jolie and Stephen here. They were free people, and could go where they wanted to, but even more, she knew they wanted to go home. If she’d said she wanted them to stay, she suspected they would, but they wouldn’t be happy. She knew that and she loved them too much to keep them here.

  “I love you, Jolie, and I’ll miss you,” Leigh said softly as Jolie’s comforting arms went around her, holding her close.

  Jolie sat back, dabbing at her yellow eyes, a smile crossing her coppery face. “Well, I’ll tell you this, honey, that little Miss Lys Helene, she’s goin’ to need someone to help her clean that house. It’s not goin’ to be easy. We have a mess of work to do. An’ she’s goin’ to need someone to help her with all the folks who start showin’ up lookin’ for work now that there’s no war, an’ there aren’t that many houses left standin’ to be hiring, ’specially no riffraff. No one’s goin’ to push Jolie ’round. I want to get back in my own kitchens again, honey. I sure have missed cookin’ and gettin’ my linens done proper-like. An’ I just couldn’t stand the thought of some other housekeeper running loose in my house.

  “Mister Guy an’ Miss Lys Helene, they asked Steban an’ me to come with them, said they’d be honored if we wanted to go home to Travers Hill. Should have seen how tall and straight Steban was standin’ with tears in his eyes. He’s always been so stubborn and stiff-necked with pride. Stephen Stubborn, I called him when we met. Never could budge him from his dignity. That’s why I call him Steban—Stephen Stubborn,” Jolie confided, full of pride for her beloved Steban. “Goin’ to look forward to raising those lil’ redheaded babies Mister Guy an’ Miss Lys Helene’s goin’ to have comin’ real soon.”