The Moon and the Stars

by Constance O'Banyon

  “Non. I have not seen Mary since I came home. I went directly to the stables before I came to you.”

  “Oh.”

  “Yance Grady was waiting for me when I came home.” He smiled, remembering the incident. “I should say he was lying in wait for me.”

  She frowned and placed her hand on his arm. “He threatened you?”

  Wade’s laughter was deep and amused. “He threatened me with the entire cavalry from Fort Lambrick.”

  She covered her mouth to keep from giggling. “He didn’t!”

  “I can assure you he did. But,” Wade added, reaching out and touching a strand of her hair and allowing it to sift through his fingers, “you might be able to save me from their attack.”

  The moonlight fell on his face, softening the hard planes as she asked, “And how can I do that?”

  He wound the curl around his finger, then lifted it to his lips—the sensuous gesture made her gasp for breath. Could he know what it did to her when he did things like that?

  “You can save me by agreeing to marry me tomorrow so we can invite your friends to our wedding.” His eyes were dancing with merriment. “If it is all the same to you, I would rather not feel the points of fifty sabers at my back.”

  She returned his smile. “I think it can only be half that number who would come to my rescue.”

  “Do you need rescuing from me?” He asked the question lightly, but waited impatiently for her answer.

  “I can leave any time I choose, and I choose to stay.” She was wondering why he had set the wedding date for the next day, and she knew it wasn’t for the sake of Yance and Nelly. “Tomorrow would be rushing things a bit, don’t you agree?”

  He turned her toward him, spinning a half lie and a half truth. “Caroline, you are an unwed woman living in my home without benefit of a chaperone. I do not want anyone questioning your virtue. Can you give me a good reason for us to delay the wedding?”

  When he was so close to her, she could hardly remember her own name, let alone think of a reason not to get married the next day. “We have not told Jonathan, and he should be considered.”

  “We can tell him together in the morning.”

  “Wade, I have a favor to ask of you—well, two favors actually.” She had been dwelling on this all day and had come to the conclusion it would be the right thing to do for Jonathan’s sake.

  “I believe you could ask anything of me, and if it were in my power, I would grant your wish.”

  The sound of his deep voice ran through her like quicksilver. “When we are married, I want us to adopt Jonathon. I want to be his mother, and he already loves you like a father.”

  He was quiet, thoughtful, and she was afraid he was going to say no.

  “Is that all that is bothering you?” he asked tenderly.

  “It is my utmost consideration.”

  “That is easily granted, mon amour. We will bind our marriage by taking Jonathan as our son.” He laced his fingers through hers. “You said there were two things you wanted.”

  “Yes.” She lost her voice when he touched his lips to her fingers.

  He looked at her tolerantly. “What could it be?”

  “Jonathan doesn’t want to attend the academy in Baton Rouge.”

  His answer was short and swift. “He needs the discipline.”

  She placed her hand on his arm. “He needs a mother and a father. He is so loving and in need of love. He has no feeling of importance. Can’t you find a day school for him to attend in New Orleans? Perhaps a good private school?”

  Wade’s chest rose and fell, and he wondered if she knew how beautiful she was to him at that moment. He could almost see her heart through her eyes and was touched by her concern for Jonathan. Too many others in her life had disappointed her, and he did not want to be among them. “I will see what I can do, if it is that important to you,” he told her.

  She threw her arms around him and pressed her body against his. “That is the best wedding present you could give me! You are a kind and thoughtful man.”

  No one had ever called him kind before. He laughed against her ear, her happiness flowing through him like fine wine. “The moment you accept me as your husband, you will be delivered an eight-year-old son.”

  She pressed her cheek against his chest. “Thank you. You won’t regret this.” She drew back and looked at him. “How do you know Jonathan is eight years old?”

  “It is merely an age that Mary in her wisdom attached to him.”

  “Has he ever had a birthday party?”

  “We do not know when the boy was born.”

  She smiled brightly. “Then we must decide on a date for him. Everyone needs to have a birthday.”

  A feeling he could only label as happiness swept through him like a cleansing wind, and he wondered how he had managed to get through each day before he had met Caroline.

  “What about you, Wade? When is your birthday?”

  “Like Jonathan, I do not have an official birthday.”

  She beamed up at him. “That is perfect! You and Jonathan can share the same day as your birthday.”

  He held her to him. She was the most perfect creature he had ever met—she filled his heart until it overflowed. “You can set the day for us both,” he remarked gruffly.

  She suddenly remembered that she wore only a filmy dressing gown over her nightgown, so she slipped out of his embrace. “I should go in now.”

  He gently brought her toward him. “Please stay a moment longer.”

  His words were almost like a plea, and she felt as if she had just touched his soul. With a little cry, she buried her face against his chest and felt his strong arms go around her.

  “I am a little frightened,” she admitted.

  “Why is that?”

  “Because of the way I feel about you. Sometimes when you touch me, I feel like I am melting inside. Do you understand that?”

  He breathed in slowly and let his breath out before he could speak, and then his voice came out as a groan of despair. “I understand better than you do. You have never been intimately touched by a man, have you?”

  “Michael kissed me several times. But not the way you do.”

  “I suspected as much this afternoon when we were in the swamp.” He could not explain the joy that shot through him. He would be the one to teach her about the desires that flowed through a man and a woman. “Caroline,” was all he could manage to say.

  She glanced up at him and saw his jaw muscles tightening. “I am sure you thought I was more”—she grappled for the right words—“more experienced than I am. Will it make any difference to you?”

  His head descended, his breath brushing against her lips. “Mon amour,” he said, his lips moving along her jawline. “Je sais gré le cadeau que vous m’amenez.”

  As sometimes happened with him, he had reverted to French.

  “I don’t speak or understand French, Wade.”

  “I merely said, I am grateful for the gift you bring to me.”

  “Are you sure you want to marry me?” She looked into his eyes to search for the truth.

  “De tout mon coeur.”

  “You are speaking French again.”

  A smile curved his mouth. “I said, with all my heart. But you must not always hold me to what I say when I am about to kiss you, because I sometimes lose my head.”

  She turned her face to offer him her lips, and he took the offer. His lips were warm, drawing emotions from deep inside her. She sighed as he untied the sash of her dressing grown and slid his hand up to cup her breast through the thin material of her nightgown.

  Her body shook so violently that he absorbed the tremors by bringing her closer to him. “Caroline, tomorrow you will be mine.”

  “Yes,” she whispered, feeling that sudden burst of joy that she so often felt when she was with him. “I will.”

  He suddenly swept her into his arms and carried her into her room. She secretly hoped he would take her to bed and do a
ll the wonderful things she could only imagine. But he set her on her feet and pulled her covers down.

  “I will leave you for now.” He raised her hand, brushing his mouth against her inner wrist. “Sleep well, mon amour.”

  She touched his face, and he closed his eyes. “What does it mean when you call me that?”

  He focused on her eyes. “It is merely an endearment meaning ‘my love.’ You will find that we Creole are very passionate people, Caroline.”

  “But you always hold back, keeping your deepest thoughts to yourself,” she said with an insight that surprised even herself.

  He gripped her shoulders, and there was that leashed intensity that he kept tightly reined. “You will never understand what it has cost me to honor you.” He slowly brought her to him, dipping his head to kiss her breast through the thin material of her nightgown. “But tomorrow night,” he said, pulling her robe together, “there will be no need for me to hold back.”

  Her heart rose to her throat. Before she could reply, he had released her and walked through the door to the gallery. She ran to the balcony, but he had already gone down the stairs and disappeared into the night.

  “Tomorrow night,” she whispered, pressing her hand against her pounding heart, “I will be his.”

  Wade walked in the garden with Caroline’s sweet scent still clinging to him. He was aching with unsatisfied desire. He had come so close to laying her on that bed and taking all that she had been so willing to give him. But he had stopped himself just in time. One more night—he could wait one more night.

  For so many years he had felt dead inside: Each day would pass much like the one before it. But then Caroline had stormed into his orderly world, stirring everything up and tying him in knots. Now when he awoke each day, his life had meaning. The days were long when he could not see her face, and the nights were longer still.

  In the past when any woman had caught his fancy, he had merely taken what she offered, and let her go with no regrets. But it was different with Caroline. Knowing her had taught him to be patient. Although he wanted her more than he had ever wanted any of the others, he had the strength to hold back.

  He raised his head in the dim moonlight, wondering if he was doing the right thing by her. He had gone to her tonight with the express intention of telling her about her father’s death and finding out what had happened to her the day she married Michael Duncan. But when he had seen her looking so adorable, and worrying about Jonathan, he could not bring himself to hurt her.

  Tomorrow night, after making love to her, and while he held her in his arms, he would tell her about her father, and then he could comfort her.

  He was sure he had done the right thing. Had he not?

  He walked down the path to the bench Caroline and Jonathan always used when she read to him. Warmth spread through him when he thought how kind she had been to Jonathan. She had sensed right away that the boy needed tenderness in his life, and she had responded to that need. He wondered what it would feel like to watch her stomach swell with a child he had planted in her.

  She was making him crazy, thinking about things that had never mattered to him before. But the thought of having a child by her rocked his world to the core.

  There were going to be troubled times ahead. He was not sure what her reaction would be when he told her that he had withheld the news of her father’s death from her. Would she understand that he had not wanted to hurt her when she had been so weak and ill?

  He exhaled, feeling his heartbeat settle into a natural rhythm. He glanced up at her window and saw the light go out.

  Tonight she slept alone, but tomorrow night she would sleep in his arms.

  Chapter Twenty-three

  The weather was bright and clear and seemed to smile on Caroline’s wedding day. Strangely enough, she had slept the night through with no nightmares to haunt her and no worries to keep her awake.

  It had been her intention to rise early enough to have breakfast with Wade. She didn’t want to eat another meal from a tray in her room. She wanted to be the kind of wife who takes care of her husband, sees to his needs, and is a good companion to him.

  She slid out of bed and quickly got dressed. She paused when she looked in the mirror to pin up her hair. She had not felt this same joy on the day she had married Michael. She backed away from the mirror as if it had given her an insight she did not want to examine too closely. Wade was a man, Michael had been only nineteen, and she had been seventeen the day they had married. She was now a woman with a woman’s needs.

  She wondered what their marriage would have been like if Michael had lived. She glanced back into the mirror, staggered by the truth. In the back of her mind, she had known all along that she had married Michael in the hope of supporting him against Brace. But she had failed in that.

  At the moment, her joy was being suffocated by unwanted memories that settled on her mind like cobwebs from the past. She remembered not wanting to be Michael’s wife, but his friend as they had always been to each other.

  Caroline was glad when Mary’s knock on the door brought her back to the present.

  “Good morning, ma’am,” the housekeeper greeted her, smiling. “I wonder if it would be all right if Louis came in. He has an armload of packages for you.”

  Caroline nodded. “Yes, of course.” She wondered what was in the packages and boxes that were stacked in the little Frenchman’s arms.

  “You can put them on the bed,” Mary instructed him.

  Louis did as he was told, then he nodded and backed toward the door. “This is a happy day for us all, madame. A very happy day indeed. You are welcomed by all.”

  She smiled at him with warmth. “Thank you, Louis. I appreciate that.”

  He left with a wide grin on his face.

  “Louis says what we all feel, ma’am.” Mary opened one box and removed silken stockings. “This house has not had a mistress in over twenty years, and it sorely needs one.”

  Caroline was gratified by the housekeeper’s approval. “Thank you, Mary. What have you in all those boxes?”

  “It’s every kind of finery you can think of. Himself went to Madame Sophie’s, the finest ladies shop in New Orleans, and Madame Sophie herself chose everything for you—with himself’s approval, of course.” She opened a long box and lifted out a soft pink gown with tiny rosebuds embroidered on the sleeves.

  “He thought you might like this for your wedding gown.”

  “It’s lovely,” Caroline said, running her hand over the soft silk. “However could he have managed to purchase such a beautiful creation in such a short time?”

  Mary paused with a stiff petticoat in her hand. “When he wants something done, it gets done. The people of New Orleans will stumble all over themselves to accommodate him.”

  “Yes. I can imagine that they would. Wade Renault can be very persuasive when he wants something.”

  Mary smiled as she nodded. “I knew the day you entered this house that you would be the mistress here.”

  “How could you have known? I certainly had not given it any thought at the time.”

  The housekeeper could have told her that Wade had never shown such concern for any other woman, but she kept her thoughts to herself. “There are many more boxes in the morning room. I’ll have them brought up and packed in trunks for your trip.”

  Caroline did not want to admit she knew nothing about a trip. “Thank you for all your help. Has Mr. Renault already had breakfast?”

  “Yes. Hours ago. He said I was to be asking you to join him in the study at your convenience.”

  After Caroline had eaten a light breakfast, she walked toward the doorway of her bedroom while Mary was instructing a maid to draw her bath.

  “I shouldn’t be long,” Caroline said, stepping out of the door. Her footsteps were light as she descended the stairs and hurried toward the library. The door was open so she stood in the archway for a moment.

  Jonathan was seated on one of the leather sofas,
looking uncertain. Wade was seated at his desk, and he rose to his feet when she entered.

  “Caroline,” the boy mumbled. “Wade said you had something to tell me. I’ve been waiting for over an hour.”

  There was accusation in his tone and fear in his expression.

  She would have gone directly to him, but Wade motioned for her to approach his desk. “Jonathan, you will soon learn that it is a privilege to wait for a woman.” His gaze went to Caroline. “Especially when she is the right woman,” he explained laughingly.

  Caroline glanced at the document he pushed in front of her and saw that it was Jonathan’s adoption papers. Wade’s bold signature was already on the document.

  He spoke quietly so Jonathan would not overhear him. “This merely says that you and I have adopted Jonathan, and that you are legally his mother and I am his father. You will need to sign your name as Caroline Renault. Louis will file the documents right after the wedding. Everything is as you wished it to be. The deed is all but done.”

  She glanced quickly up at him. “How did you accomplish this so quickly? We only spoke about it last night.”

  The warmth in his eyes spread over her. “I rose early.” His hand settled on top of hers, and he gave it a squeeze. “I could not sleep last night for thinking about you.”

  He moved back a pace and handed her the pen. “Sign this, and you will have a son.”

  He saw her hesitate when it came to the last name. But she gripped the pen and signed her name as his wife.

  “Congratulations,” he whispered near her ear. “You are now a mother.”

  She beamed up at him and then turned to the forlorn child who sat with his chin resting on his chest. She went forward and seated herself beside him. “I am sorry to be late. There is so much to do this morning.”

  “She will repeat those same words many times through the years, Jonathan,” Wade said, coming around his desk and sitting on the other side of the boy. “Women always have something to do, and we let them.”

  The child lowered his head even more. “I know why we’re all here.” He looked up at Caroline with tears clinging to his lashes. “You want to tell me that we can’t read anymore because I have to go back to that old academy in Baton Rouge.”