Captivated

by Bertrice Small

  You'd get towed under; you'd be rendered helpless, you would drown.

  Not me.

  Not me…

  And then the thought came, unbidden, unwanted, never spoken:There was only one way to get through it.

  … Like Mother. Just like Mother. Removed. Restrained. Resolved.

  Respectable.

  … now she understood…

  That was all a woman could ever hope for… and nothing had changed in a thousand years.

  She lifted her chin. "The whole of St. Faubonne Parish knows what avigorous man Court is."

  "Now, now, Drue. A lady never listens to gossip. And you are now his foremost advocate. Never forget, my dear. No matter what, he's your husband, right or wrong." Her father's gaze skewed to where Court was standing, talking business with the gentlemen of the parish.

  Myhusband, oh, my Godmy husband…

  All wrong…

  She wanted to run. Oh, God, she just wanted to drop everything and flee and let her father take responsibility for his own weakness, his own stupidity.

  But there was no escaping Court. He was as inevitable as the sun, aware at every moment where she was, andshe thought, panickedwhat she was thinking.

  Don't move, his impassive gaze seemed to say.Not a move without me. You're mine now to do with what I will.

  Her father moved toward Court, toward the knot of men who were the most influential in the parish, and she felt as if her anchor were gone. He just floated away from her, drawn by the business of men, drawn by Court, who was as magnetic as iron.

  And just as hard. There was no mistaking that look. The minute her father joined the group, Court broke away and headed toward her.

  And sheshe just stood rooted to the spot, waiting for him.Her husband… the word stuck on her tongue.

  Her legs felt like jelly. She knew her face was pale and her hands were shaking.

  "So beautiful, my love," Court murmured as he held out his hand.

  She had no choice but to take it. He could take everything from her father in an instant. The least she could do was take his hand.

  Together, they walked into the crowd as rose petals rained on them, the signal that it was time to go.

  Oh, God sosoon…?

  Their carriage drew up in front of the church, driven by Isaac, who was dressed as formally as Court.

  Her legs wobbled.Time to go. Time to fulfill every promise. Time is up. Time, her enemy.

  Court helped her into the carriage and climbed in after her; Isaac snapped the reins and they were off, circling around the church drive, past the gardens and the trees in the distance.

  She turned around to look at the receding crowd of well-wishers waving them home, and it was then she saw itthe figure moving restively in the shadow of the trees, recognizable by the bend of his body, the agitation of his movements.

  Gerard had come; dear Lord, Gerardhad come. He'd been with her from afar, suffering with her, for her, as helpless, as devastated, as she.

  Oh, Gerard… my lovethank, you, my love…

  He'd come. He'd watched. He'd agonized. He hadn't let her go through it alone.

  chapter 2

  Sobeautiful… sotreacherous

  That bastard, skulking in the bushes… as if he could have missed it. As if Gerard Lenoir had wantedhim to miss itor Drue's reaction.

  Tears.

  Damn him. Goddamn tears…

  He was seething as the carriage bowled onto the River Road toward Wildwood, cutting through heat as thick as cotton.

  It wasn't worth it. Goddamn… he had made the biggest mistake of his life, saddling himself with a vice-ridden father-in-law, an encumbered plantation, and a woman who bated him.

  Stupidfor the first time in his life, his greed and a moment of rare opportunity had gotten the better of his common sense.

  Or had he ever had common sense where Oak Bluffs was concerned? He'd watched for years as Victor Caledon ran it into the ground while he pursued the passion and promise of the gaming wheels inNew Orleans.

  And Drue, standing by, defending him, watching her mother work herself to death, and knowing not the half of her father's corrupt nature.

  Drue…

  When had he first become really awareof Drue?

  But he knewwhen Gerard Lenoir had begun to pursue heras the direct proportion of money her father owed him increased.

  Drue was to have been Gerard's payoff. And Oak Bluffs was to have been his by virtue of his marrying Drue.

  But Gerard had been too busy seducing Drue to be aware that Victor Caledon would never, ever sanction the union. Gerard Lenoir would never step foot on Oak Bluffseven as a guest.

  So Victor had come to him,and offered him Oak Bluffsand Druein exchange for the partnership and a face-saving perversion of the truth: that Court was Victor's creditor, and that Drue and a stake in Oak Bluffs could satisfy every debt, every lien, every loan… every lie.

  And Drue was never, never to know that Gerard was the one to whom her father had owed that vast sum of money.

  And so a man got ensnared. Court had dearly wanted Oak Bluffs. And, shockingly, once he made the bargain, he found he wanted Drue as well. And that was something he hadn't planned on.

  Or was she all the more desirable because she wanted another man?

  Or was it because he didn't want Lenoir to have her?

  He slanted a glance at her pensive profile under the parasol Isaac had provided her to ward off the sun.

  She stared straight ahead, as if keeping her gaze rooted would repulse other things. Real things. Him.

  She was so beautiful, with her long black hair that Edme had braided into a coronet to support her veil. She looked regal. She looked as if she were going to meet her fate.

  She had lifted her chin, a defiant little gesture, to combat the luster of the tears drenching her blue eyes. She would not cry. Shewouldn't.

  She bit her lips, perfect soft lips; he wanted to kiss them right there, right then, to make up for the kisses he didn't bestow when he took her to be his wife.

  But she wasn't thinking about Court Summerville. All of her energy, her desire was focused on Gerard Lenoir. Her tears were for Gerard, and her kisses. And her body, sacrificed on the altar of duty tohim, would have been Lenoir's as well, if he hadn't poured a hundred thousand dollars into Lenoir's pocket to save Victor Caledon's reputation and prestige.

  Court felt a tremor of pure fury. Drue was his now. He'd bought her, he'd laid out the terms so there would be no misunderstandings, and, by God, she'd agreed. She washis, all of her, her body, her mind, her soul, and she had no business pining for Gerard not a half hour after the wedding.

  His jaw tightened. Before this night was out, he thought, he would hold her to the bargain. And he would do it without force and without recourse to the baser nature of man.

  He was going to make her want him. He was going to arouse her to a fever pitch until she understood what it meant to be consumed by desire.

  He had all the time in the world, he thought. It would be like taming a wild animal. You did it slowly, by increments, showing, playing, stroking, rewarding, until it trusted you.

  And thenoh, and then… it would do anything you wanted.

  Anything.

  His body quickened as he savored the thought.

  Everything…

  He thought of a hundred things in that instant that would encompasseverything and his body responded accordingly, raw, hard,there.

  Yes… he would subjugate the little fawn, and he wouldn't rest until he wiped Gerard Lenoir from her memory and made her beg for his lust, his sex, his love, him.

  Wildwood!

  The beautiful moss-draped, tree-lined drive at the end of which was the house, white columned, stately, four-square, and, as the carriage drew closer and closer, huge.

  Nothing like the comfortable, manageable house at Oak Bluffs.

  She could get lost there, swallowed up.

  She felt as if Court had devoured her already.
r />   She couldn't bear to look at him. Or to think what came next.

  No, she knew what came next: the discharge of her father's debt, her body, her will, her future as the payoff.

  She suppressed a shudder.

  Gerard… oh, Gerard The ache almost consumed her.

  Ican't think about Gerard, if I think about Gerard, I'll I'llnever be able to…

  … to

  oh, my God… to…

  Her body went cold. The carriage quivered to a stop in front of the broad front steps.

  Immediately the butler emerged from the house through the etched glass double doors, followed by a half dozen servants who lined up on the veranda and down the steps in order of precedence.

  Isaac came around and put a cushioned step under her foot, and Court gravely helped her down.

  "This is Joseph," he said, indicating the butler. "Mary. Evie. Lucy. Charles. Louisa."

  She nodded in turn to each of them, and then, lifting her skirts, she mounted the steps and he guided her into the reception hall.

  Grand. Too grand for her. It was overwhelming, with ceilings that had to be fifteen feet high at least and a swooping staircase rising up to her right, all the way to heaven. There were sofas and console tables lining the walls and gilt-framed paintings that glowed in the soft light of the chandelier that was lit for the occasion.

  She stepped hesitantly onto the first of three Oriental rugs that were scattered on the parquet floor, noting the beautifully molded arches that led off to the downstairs rooms, the doors of which were just tantalizingly ajar.

  Home.

  My home. Now.

  … oh, God

  She was aware of everything: the weight of her dress as she walked farther into the hallway and it tailed out behind her. The silence. The scent. A different scent than at Oak Bluffs. The grandeur.

  The sound of footsteps retreating to other parts of the house.

  She felt the train being lifted off the floor. The thickness of the carpet beneath her feet. Court, beside her, watching her intensely.

  It was all too much. And she couldn't love it. Dear God, she couldn't love anything except Gerard.

  And she had better stop thinking about that…about him or she would never be able to fulfill the bargain and Court would take Oak Bluffs away from her father as surely as he planned to take her.

  Best to get it over with, she thought. Best to just let it happen, and then it would be done and maybe Court would just leave her alone.

  Apart from the introductions, he hadn't said a word since they left the church. And neither had she.

  He was struck by how much he wanted this moment to be more than it was. But then, he was not bringing to this house the woman he had chosen, the woman he loved.

  Rather, she was the pawn in a game to enlarge his empire. And pawns didn't have feelings or preferences. They were just moved where they were the most expedient and, in the end, they were expendable.

  But the fawn had feelings. The fawn could bite the hand that was about to shroud her in luxury the likes of which she had never seen at Oak Bluffs. The fawn could run away.

  No! He made that decision instantly. However they had started in matrimony, she was stillhis, and he felt as possessive as if he had loved her all his life. The bargain, suddenly, did not enter into it.

  He wanted Drue Caledon. Right then. Right there. Wanted to pull off her virginal gown, expose her naked body and sink himself deep inside her. Wanted, wanted, wanted…

  The force of his arousal shocked him. He wanted… he conjured up a dozen things he wanted to do to her, all of which were as explosive as fire.

  "Get her upstairs," he said roughly. He had to plan this. He couldn't just force her. He couldn't just take her. He clamped down on the heat that raced through his blood.

  "Yes sir."

  Evie, behind her, helping with her train. "Missus…"

  Drue reached blindly for the banister.Oh, God, she was going to have to do this. She heard it in his voice.

  "Get her ready."

  "Yes sir." Evie, like a little shadow, trailing behind her as she climbed the steps. A mountain. A thousand steps to meet her fate. Why didn't he just attack her there? So much easier. Over quickly. She'd get an heir, and then it would be done.

  "Evie!" His voice, ragged and raw. Evie halted, waiting until he took the steps two at a time to reach her and whisper something in her ear.

  "Yes sir." Evie shifted the heavy train. "Missus…"

  She swallowed hard, blinking back her tears, and continued up the steps. And finally, the landing, decorated with the same rich furnishings as the hallway below. Muted light here, and a half dozen doors leading to the bedrooms.

  "First door, missus, to your right."

  "Of course," she murmured. That would be to the front of the house, the biggest, most luxurious rooms.

  The door opened readily into a sumptuous room that was as large as the parlor at Oak Bluffs, and swathed in satin and lace.

  "Master say undress you, missus, and make you comfortable."

  "Yes," she whispered. "Yes."Comfortable… that didn't nearly describe this beautiful room. And all for her.

  She stood still as a mannequin as Evie positioned her in front of the armoire mirror and pulled forward a cushioned stool.

  "Missus is tall, pleasing to the master," she murmured as she stepped up and began pulling out the pins that held Drue's wedding veil. It fell in a drift of tulle onto the thick Persian carpet.

  "We gonna fold him up and store him away, save him for missus's daughter someday," Evie said, as she retrieved the fragile material and laid it on the bed.

  "You hold still now, missus. We gonna be real careful with this beautiful gown."

  Drue could just see her over her shoulder in the mirror.If I could just disappear into the mirror… She watched in fascination as Evie carefully unfastened the intricate hooks and slipped the dress off her, inch by inch; first the shoulders, then the bodice, then down over the hooped petticoat until it lay in a puddle of ivory silk at her feet.

  And like a little bird, Evie hopped down, lifted the dress up and draped it on the bed. "Louisa gonna take care of that for you, missus. Not to worry. Now, that old cage petticoat" She untied the strings and it was gone. "And them drawers and stockings. And that corset. Should be burned, it so tight. You feel better when we get it off. Then we get you a nice bath and dinner, and you be ready for the master."

  She was chattering, Drue thought, to keepher calm, and to keep her mind off what was to come. But she was thinking of nothing else, and when Evie helped her into a satin wrapper, she was terribly aware of the feel of the creamy material against her hot, bare skin.

  "Come."

  This was luxury: Evie led her to an alcove between the bedrooms, a bathing room with an iron tub set on a marble platform, which Charles was in the process of filling with steaming water. And Louisa waited, with a tray of soaps, oils, and towels.

  "In you go, missus."

  Drue sank into the heat like it was her lover's arms.Gerard…

  NO!

  The water lapped against her skin, hot, welcome, reassuring.

  Focus on Court. Think about Court. Let Court into your thoughts. Just tonight. Just once. Court's not an animal. Court won't hurt you.

  Soft… everything soft…

  She sank into the water, closing her eyes against reality as Louisa began washing her hair. This was the dream: a life of unutterable wealth as the wife of one of the most prominent men in the state.

  What was a moment of surrender compared to that?

  Soft… his hands would be soft, like Gerard when he petted her and coaxed her into giving him a kiss…

  No!

  She moved restively in the water, sending waves over the side of the tub.

  "Shhh, missus, shhhh…" Louisa crooned as she poured a vial of oil into the bath water. "Master not gonna hurt you no how. Don't you worry none… shhhh…"

  How did she know? How did she know?r />
  Drue leaned back into those gentle hands that were massaging her head so firmly, so competently, into the rich oily water that soaked into her skin.

  "Shhh, missus, shhhh…" Louisa soaping her body, singing under her breath now, lulling, soothing, comforting.

  She could stay there forever, she thought, just give herself over to Louisa's kind hands, and float away to oblivion.

  "Missus…" Evie's voice intruding on the silence. "It's time."

  Time? Time? The water was cold now, her hair drenched, her body dripping as she reluctantly took Louisa's hand and stepped out of the tub and into the towel Evie held out for her.

  "There you go, there you go, missus," Evie murmured, wrapping her tightly in the towel and then leading her back into the bedroom and seating her on the bed, from which the dress and veil had been removed. "Sit you down, missus. There you go. I make you ready for the master."

  Ominous words. Drue cringed.Make you ready…

  Evie at her feet, rubbing them, and her legs, and then wrapping them in another towel. At her hair next, briskly drying it.

  She felt sapped, suddenly. Bereft.

  Make you ready…

  Evie took her brush and began combing through her tangled hair. Slow, calming strokes, sliding the brush through the thick strands. She was the ideal ladies' maid, properly deferential, experienced in all the ways of handling her mistress.

  Just what you would expect from the master of Wildwood…

  Her breath caught.Master of Wildwoodmaster of her…

  "We ready now, missus." Evie's soft voice in her ear. "Stand you up now so I can take these wet towels."

  She stood, limp as a rag doll, and let Evie remove the towels.

  "Master come to you soon, missus."

  Evie turned away, leaving her standing naked in the middle of the room.

  "Eviemy robe…"

  Evie turned at the door. "Master give the word, missus. You wait for him there, like so. No robe. No towel. No clothes. Nothing. Nothing to keep you from the master's desire."

  And then, before Drue could react, before she could move, Evie exited the room and locked the door emphatically behind her.

  chapter 3

  "Evie?" She pounded frantically on the door."Evie…! Evie…!"