Only Marshall and Andrew seemed a reality of her past, the only link she wished to preserve. She heard nothing of Andrew, other than through Marshall, whom she saw infrequently. Louisa didn't want to believe it, but Andrew was in deep trouble. He had jumped ship and was considered a fugitive. Louisa ached for him. How incredible it seemed, to think of Andrew as an outlaw! Perhaps, despite her deepest instincts, Andrew was beneath her. Perhaps, just as she'd been cautioned, he was "low-born."
Chapter Eight
AT last Marshall and Louisa were in Paris together, but Marshall found himself only one among a string of Louisa's admirers. He realized his vision of her had been accurate. At sixteen, she was radiant and gay, and very seductive. For the imp he recalled, she seemed surprisingly in her element. He found himself bewitched by her, jealous of her other admirers. He wanted to pursue her earnestly, but his chance never came. She eluded every suitor. Nor was she content to partake of just ordinary fare, often suggesting adventurous and elaborate entertainments for her circle of friends. Her energy seemed inexhaustible, and the pace she kept breathtaking. She seemed always to be in motion, always on the run. Louisa truly believed she could spend the remainder of her life in the French countryside. She loved the elaborate, exquisitely furnished country homes, and quickly succumbed to the self-indulgent style of life. Her favorite pastime was attending dress balls where the music transported her, and the dancing became an opiate, a medium for her fantasies. She discovered her natural inclination for flirting, and any reserve she felt was erased by wine.
She was fond of no man in particular, but it was obvious several young men hoped to single her out. Stefan was probably the most ardent in his pursuit. Justin was pleased with him, since he was financially and politically well connected. "Beautiful, Louisa, you must have been listening more carefully to me than I thought. Stefan is an ideal choice. His father and I have a great deal in common."
Stefan Vinay was the most experienced of her suitors, the most sought-after himself. He was lean and powerfully built, handsome with intense blue eyes and dark blond hair. Louisa found it increasingly difficult to avoid his advances politely. She had no desire to offend him―after all, his interest in her heightened her enjoyment of life―but it was obvious Stefan was becoming impatient. He was direct with his intentions, and a little menacing, Louisa thought.
Soon, it became more than a game of cat-andmouse, and the alternatives narrowed. "I'm used to having everything I want, too, Louisa," Stefan cautioned her as he held her while they danced away another night. She had no intention of slowing her pace or narrowing her field of play, assuming her exciting life could continue indefinitely. Stefan saw to it that he was everywhere Louisa went. He tried and' fairly well succeeded in monopolizing her attention. He began to wear down her resistance, and over the months, Louisa began to think Stefan was an ideal match. They could have a long courtship and a convenient marriage. She suspected he would soon find himself busy in the world, and would eventually leave her for long periods, as Justin did, and she could pursue her own whims easily. She was romantic, but ultimately practical. Her observation of couples in her circle was that most people married for convenience and advantage, and loved as they chose, aside from any formalized union. Perhaps Stefan would tire of her, soon enough.
Louisa pursued this fantasy, and soon it became popular opinion that the couple would be betrothed. But Stefan did not conform to her ideas. He became increasingly possessive and Louisa grew restless. She found him overbearing, and regarding his apparent jealousy with obvious disdain, she continued to circulate freely.
But despite his public manners, Stefan's nature was not tolerant. He was willful and used to having his whims indulged. He expected Louisa to accept his domination, and was unprepared for and angered by her apparent disregard for his expectations. He began to call her on his disappointments, and was astounded when she failed to take his concerns seriously. She was damned arrogant and elusive, he thought. He became obsessed with halting her habitual flirtations when, to his surprise, Louisa willingly agreed to visit his country estate for several weeks in the fall. Justin even made an appearance, and formally approved Louisa's suitor.
There were several gala parties, yet frequent opportunities for the couple to be alone. Stefan enjoyed their relative seclusion and his monopoly of her attention between social events. Louisa, on the other hand, grew bored and regretted the bargain she seemed to have struck. Nor was she content to recline about the house between evening entertainments, instead seizing every opportunity to ride or take long walks. Stefan eagerly shared these amusements with her, enjoying their privacy. But when there were houseguests, Louisa saw to it that everyone was organized for exhausting excursions, and Stefan found himself even more aggravated by her outgoing nature.
After one particularly hectic week of guests and parties, and with the house still full of revelers, Stefan's temper was short. He wondered if she were deliberately trying to anger him. His mood was especially black early one morning when he insisted on a private afternoon with her.
"I have had enough of sharing you with everyone in the countryside. Today we'll go off by ourselves and let the others amuse themselves as they see fit."
"All right, Stefan. Let's ride down to the pond and sit in the shade for some lunch. After last night and these last weeks, I'm ready for some quiet."
"It's too much to hope for, Louisa," said Stefan sarcastically, but he was not soothed in spite of her pleasant acquiescence. Louisa was weary. She was tired of Stefan, suddenly exhausted by the unrelenting whirl of activities of the past year. And she was faced with a premonition of a life she did not care for. She sensed Stefan wanted to control her, something she deeply resented. She would never again be controlled, not by dreams, not by anything―or anyone. Suddenly, Louisa realized she desperately wanted to go home, yet she couldn't recall anything to go home for. The only pleasant memories of home were connected to Marshall and Andrew, and they were apparently not going home now, if ever.
As she prepared to go out, she thought of another of Stefan's houseguests―How darkly handsome Marshall is. He reminded her of Uncle Simon, but with enough of his mother's gentle warmth to make him irresistible. "Why am I not planning to marry Marshall?" she questioned suddenly, in surprise. "What ever possessed me to consider Stefan. He's such an oppressive bore!" She felt ill-tempered, noticing a pain above her left eye. Too much wine, and the hours I've been keeping, she thought. "Oh, God! A whole day wasted on Stefan," she said aloud, ignoring Helena's presence.
Louisa brushed her shining hair furiously, brooding over her situation. In spite of how she felt that morning, she managed to be beautiful. Yet she wondered if she were on the road to the same kind of life her mother had lived. "How long before I go mad? How long before my skin turns gray?" But for now, all of the out-of-doors activity she insisted on gave her skin a reassuring glow, even if her deepening golden color was unfashionable. When she dressed, her slimness was accentuated by her rich brown riding ensemble, and her pale silk shirtwaist with its cascading ruffles heightened her beauty. She felt cross as she left her room, wondering how she would last the day,' not to mention the week remaining of her visit. "If lack of sleep hadn't dulled my brain. I'd never have consented to this outing," she pouted, planning to use her headache as an excuse to come in early. "Oh, won't that improve Stefan's mood!" she scowled.
As they left the house, Louisa said little to Stefan, riding silently beside him, trying to concentrate on the now-familiar scenery. As soon as the horses seemed ready, she quickened her pace, losing herself in the motion and the throbbing of her head. She let the pain consume her, wishing it would burn her up, freeing her from Stefan. Why am I not riding with Marshall? Why am I not planning my life with him? I could love Marshall, really love him. I'll never love Stefan. Never! Her thoughts pounded through her pain with the pulsing of her blood. Stefan is what Justin wants for me! She kicked her horse furiously. When did I start wanting what Justin wants?
She didn't think about Justin often. He seemed only another distant, unpleasant memory from her past. But now as she concentrated on her disappointment with Stefan, her heart compared the two men. They seemed oddly similar in their attitudes toward her―she was only a possession to both men.
"Let's give these beasts a rest," called Stefan, pulling abreast of her. "Where are you off to at such a pace?" he demanded as they slowed down. "Let's head over to the shade of those trees," he motioned.
"I've an awful headache. I hoped it would disappear. Perhaps we ought to make our outing short?" she said, giving him a soft smile.
He frowned, directing the horses to a small stand of trees, at the edge of the stream. "Let's see how you feel after some rest." They dismounted and walked the horses for some minutes before tethering them, then Louisa reclined in ·the warm grass above the water, propping herself on her elbows, turning her face into the sun.
"It only darkens your skin more," Stefan said sourly.
Louisa didn't reply, trying to concentrate on the feel of the warm sun soaking into her body. Make him go away, magic ball of fire, she incanted privately.
"You're beginning to look like a peasant."
Louisa felt very hot, and she knew it wasn't merely the heat of the day. She said nothing, and soon Stefan began to talk about their betrothal and a definite wedding date.
"Stefan," Louisa interrupted. "Before we marry I must return to America for a while."
"That would postpone our marriage perhaps a year!" he said, nearly shouting.
"Why, Stefan," she replied calmly, despite her own rising anger at him, and at herself, "it's not so urgent that we marry within the year. We're young yet. Surely you can understand how I'd want to return to my own country once more before I marry."
"We can sail to America when we're married!" he said sternly, then paused to look hard at Louisa. "But yes, I do understand. You simply do not want to marry me, and I wonder if you ever will. You can't put aside your flirtations. Perhaps you are too young." Louisa stiffened. Stefan was obviously angry. "You American women are immature. You have a beautiful woman's body, Louisa, but you're only a child playing at seduction," he said hotly.
Louisa sat up, rubbing her aching forehead. "Perhaps you're right. Perhaps I am only playing a child's game," she offered, hoping she could take advantage of his train of thought.
But Louisa misread him. Stefan only grew more furious. "You're a bitch, Louisa," he yelled, "and always in season!" He turned on her viciously, slapping her hard across the face, snapping her neck back with an incredible jolt. Louisa's breath was taken away, and before she could regain it, or her balance, he lunged at her, ripping at her clothes. He thrust a hand into the cascading ruffles of her blouse and stripped her bodice to its soft undergarments.
Louisa was totally unprepared for his attack. She' reeled from the violent blow he'd struck and from' his growing ferocity, believing he would tear her limb from limb, and suddenly, she summoned a strength she hardly knew she possessed. By God, he may kill me, but not so easily! she thought wildly, and began screaming like an animal loosed from the dark depths of Hell.
She lunged at him, gouging his face with her nails, instantly recognizing in her heart the hatred she felt for him. Never again would her body be violated in any way. Although Stefan was a powerful man, he was startled by the furious animal he'd aroused. But all he could think of was inflicting pain on her, of conquering her, torturing her as she'd tortured him. "Bitch," he cursed as he pursued her, ripping her skirt away. She was in tatters, and he flung her to the ground, stripping away her remaining lower garments.
Louisa struggled, digging her nails into his flesh, kicking furiously. She sank a vicious bite into his hand as he tried to cover her mouth, yet her struggling aroused him, and he was consumed by his need to punish and humble her. He held her down with an arm across her breasts and arched his body slightly to open his clothing in order to mount her. Louisa took the instant advantage she had, violently driving a knee into his groin. Stefan gagged and fell against Louisa, grasping himself instinctively, yet he managed to seize her flying hair with his other hand as she tried to escape him, wrenching her with him as he rolled in agony.
She imagined he would pull her hair from her head, and in her pain and terror, her own attack became even more furious. As they struggled, she felt the stones jar and tear her flesh, and realizing he would recover soon enough, Louisa searched frantically for a weapon. Grabbing a rock, she forced it heavily into Stefan's already bloodied face, and they looked like what they were: animals battling to the death.
With the blow to his face, Stefan let go of Louisa. She tumbled and fell, getting quickly to her feet to run like a stunned animal, alternately stumbling and recovering. Stefan had hardly regained himself, but he knew he would kill her now, and he staggered after her, catching her viciously. Together they plunged down the stream bank, crashing into shallow water.
Louisa fell on top of Stefan, immediately terrified of nothing else but drowning, when suddenly he let loose his grip on her, and she slipped deeper into the stream. She felt the water only as a further blow, but it revived her, and she bolted from its freezing wetness, putting all of her sagging effort into struggling up the narrow bank, not believing she wasn't pursued.
She ran frantically, falling to her knees sobbing and grasping for breath, rising immediately to run again. She reached the skittering, nervous horses, and in her exhausted wild state had great difficulty getting astride her animal. As she did, Louisa realized she was alone, and curiosity allowed her cautiously to approach the stream in spite of her terror. Looking down, she stared into the agonized eyes of a man she had planned to marry. He appeared frozen, tortured for eternity, impaled on a dagger-sharp tree limb protruding from the gently rushing water. The front of his body was covered with blood.
Louisa cried out, gasping for air. She was exhausted from the life-or-death struggle, both angry and disbelieving. "You poor, goddamned bloody bastard!" she screamed, and her horse bolted beneath her, running into the thicket, throwing her to the ground. What breath she had was knocked from her, and she lay struggling for air;
When she recovered, Louisa was too exhausted to move. Perhaps I'll die here, too, she thought, battered and beyond caring, lying quietly, feeling every inch of aching flesh and muscle, wondering how she had survived the brutal attack. Then she collapsed into unconsciousness.
Some hours later, Louisa awoke cold and shivering in the shade of the stand of trees. Looking for the position of the sun, she realized it was past midday. Her body was very stiff as she forced herself to collect pieces of her discarded clothing. Finally, she walked to the edge of the stream to look briefly at Stefan's body, reassuring herself all she recalled was not just another nightmare. She turned abruptly from the distorted body, wrapping her nakedness in what had been her riding skirt.
She struggled to mount Stefan's still tethered horse 'and slowly began to ride back to the estate. Louisa knew the pain the horse's motion caused her was real, but surely the scenes that came into her mind must have been dreamed. She was stunned by the events, totally absorbed in her shock and pain, failing to notice the rider approaching her at an ever-increasing pace, until she heard her name being called.
"Louisa! Dear God, Louisa!"
She drew her horse up, and stared blankly into a man's face. Then silent tears streamed down her face. The man lifted her swiftly to his horse and into his arms, pressing her tightly against him.
"Marshall," she choked, unable to control her crying.
Marshall held her soft body against him, trying to console her. "Where is Stefan?" he asked, but Louisa only cried more violently. He realized it would be some time before she was calm, so he turned the horses, riding swiftly toward home. After several minutes, she was quiet, occasionally shuddering against him and gulping in air like a child after a long spell of crying.
Marshall reined in the horses and Louisa turned to him, pulling him to her. "Where have you been all
of these months? How did we ever let them separate us?" she cried.
"It won't happen again, I promise you," he said, kissing her forehead gently.
"Yes, promise me," she sighed, still shuddering.
"Now, tell me how I happened to find you in this condition," he said, touching the already discolored places in her face, shoulders, and arms.
"Stefan tried to kill me, to rape me. He went berserk." Louisa began to shake, laughing bitterly, gasping and crying again. "He's dead. God damn him!" she cried with all of her strength, suddenly in control. She sat erect and continued, "We were struggling and fell into the water, and Stefan was impaled on a jagged branch. He's in the stream."
Marshall was stunned. He held Louisa, gently kissing her face and hair, comforting her in a way that seemed very familiar, and for a while they sat in silence. Then Marshall urged the horses forward. "Stefan said some painfully true things to me this morning," Louisa said quietly and put her head down resting against Marshall for greater comfort. "I'm afraid I've been playing games. I don't belong here." She paused for some minutes, then said urgently, "Marshall, I must go home. I can't stay in Europe. I've had my fill. And you must go with me. No one will dare stop us."
"Yes, perhaps we should go home."
"Now, Marshall, please! Now!"
"Soon, Louisa, I promise. But I'm afraid this ordeal is not over yet!"
They rode on, and when they reached the estate, the other houseguests were occupied throughout the grounds. There was no way for them to enter the yard or approach the family unobserved, so they came to the house with a full audience.
"Miss Boyd, what in the world has happened?" shouted Henri, Stefan's older brother, as he rushed to assist Marshall and Louisa. "Summon the doctor!" he called to one of the servants. "Where is Stefan?"
Ford, Jessie Page 5