Ford, Jessie
Page 21
"Louisa, you're being irrational," he said, going to her, taking her in his arms. He slipped inside her cloak, drawing her very close to him as a means of comforting her, and as a means of distracting her, as well. "I have good reason to think she'll not recognize me. Don't you think I've been successful with Easton?"
"Why, yes, so far," Louisa said, still not able to dismiss her sudden fright. Aaron was well aware he had not been able to placate her totally. He let Louisa out of his embrace and watched her as she paced in front of the windows looking out over the now-darkened woods.
"I didn't tell you because I needed time to sort out my own worries and thinking. And I've concluded we're in no way endangered." He went to a piece of luggage and took out Emma's letter, handing it to her. "I'm sure you'll agree that she only wants to make amends, to see her son's child, probably to escape Simon for a while . . . I think she may even be finished with him, as finished as a woman of her class can be with her husband. I doubt you have anything to fear from her, even if she learns who I am, and that there was no marriage." He looked hard at Louisa. "What do you know of Emma Hudson to think she would take your child from you?"
Louisa hung her head. "Nothing. Of course, nothing." Tears brimmed her eyes and spilled over onto her face. "You're right. I am being irrational, but my life has already been filled with too many irrational events." Aaron went to her again, letting her nestle and cry against him. "Also, I've just realized that I won't see Rachel for a very long time, something I hadn't really faced before now." Aaron held her while she cried, knowing she had to face this issue sometime, and now, at the start, would be as good a time as any.
They prepared and dressed for dinner with Easton. Louisa suddenly looked very tired and pale in the candlelight, in spite of the restful voyage she'd had. Both men were stirred by her distant and ethereal quality. William always dressed for dinner, even when he dined alone, and every meal was an occasion. Had she not been so upset, Louisa would have enjoyed this first meal in the elegant house. No expense, no formality was spared, and in any part of the country, one would have had a difficult search to find a better table. Easton was living like an emperor already, and even in her personal discomfort, Louisa wondered what need of William's made him pursue a political position. He apparently wanted nothing. What could being a puppet monarch give him that he didn't already have?
Louisa graced the table with her beauty. She wore a pale pink silk gown which clung delicately to her slender body. Everything about her shimmered in the light: her skin, her hair, her eyes, the fabric of her dress, the diamonds at her throat. She looked carefree, and no one would have guessed her heart felt like a stone. The conversation was lively and polite, while they dined on delicacies, many of which had been imported from as far away as the Sandwich Islands, and, of course, Europe. The wines were carefully chosen for crab legs and filet of beef, delicate vegetables and perfect sauces. Aaron and William ate heartily, Louisa sparingly. Papayas and mangoes, pineapple and pears, adorned the fruit tray with cheeses from France and Germany. Louisa had last seen such extravagance in France, and she shuddered imperceptibly.
They dined leisurely into the night, and chatted about their shared experiences aboard the Emma H. Louisa carried the conversation easily, amused by Aaron's look when Easton mentioned their voyage together.
When they retired, Louisa paced the room nervously while Aaron undressed for bed. "This isn't your wedding night, Louisa," he said as he watched her catlike movements. She threw open the terrace windows and stepped out into the night in her thin gown, but returned rather hastily as the chill air enveloped her. She closed the windows and hurriedly removed her clothes to slip into Aaron's waiting arms.
"Mmmm," she shivered against him. "What was that look I saw on your face at dinner?"
"What look?"
"When we were discussing our trip aboard the Emma H."
Aaron laughed heartily. He grabbed Louisa roughly and rolled around with her in the bed while she laughed with him. "What is the matter with you?" she demanded as he wrestled with her good-naturedly.
"Perhaps you ought to tell me all of your experiences with Easton, so I won't be unprepared," he smiled. "According to my memory, at the time you were aboard, Emma H. was pursued by an unidentified vessel for a day and a night. Do you have any recollection of that event?"
"I certainly do. Why? How could you know?"
"I was on the ship chasing her. Had I only known you were aboard, I never would have let you escape!" he said, pursuing her even now.
But she wouldn't be distracted. "You mean, you were a pirate―among the ones causing so much grief to Simon and my father's ships?"
"The very ones."
"Oh? What could you have done if you had captured us, and found Marshall and me aboard?"
Aaron stared at her, suddenly remembering his frame of mind at the time they were discussing. "Probably nothing, other than lift the most precious cargo and any jewels from the passengers―but, in your case, I might have made an exception and taken a captive, one I would have never ransomed," he said, fondling and kissing her breasts.
"You wouldn't?"
"It wasn't our usual style, but you'd have been difficult to let go unmolested!"
"I really don't know very much about you, do I?"
"You know about all you need to know," he said, covering her mouth with his, kissing her deeply, wanting to stop their conversation. His tongue caressed her mouth, then slowly sought her breasts, drifting down her belly into her groin. Louisa was delighting in his touch, and, as he returned his mouth to hers, she held him eagerly in her embrace. They stroked and petted each other, pushing and tantalizing, prolonging their reach for satisfaction until the sensations were nearly unbearable.
"Kiss me, Marshall," she whispered. "Why don't you ever kiss me?" She seemed to be a long distance away as she spoke, her eyes closed, her body tilting urgently toward him. Then she opened her eyes with an odd, almost questioning look, and said, "Kiss me, Aaron," and he needed no further urging as he lowered his mouth to her, and with his tongue filled her with a kind of pleasure she had known only once before. Louisa was wild with joy which magnified his own, and when they came together, at last, their union was deeply felt and intensely satisfying.
"I would have stolen you from Marshall," Aaron promised her, caressing her beautiful slender body that gave him so much pleasure. "And I would never have given you up. Never!"
Louisa smiled at Aaron, and at the intensity of his pledge. She looked into his shining dark eyes, marveling at their blackness, feeling herself pulled helplessly into their depths. She drew his mouth to hers, succumbing again to the wonder she felt in his embrace, seeking his warmth and consolation, and she knew, at last, that she was in love with him.
Chapter Forty-three
WHEN Louisa woke the next morning, she found herself alone. At first she luxuriated in the warm bed watching the early light filter though sheer draperies, glancing leisurely around the room to reacquaint herself with her new surroundings. She felt as if she were in a palace whose furniture adorned rather than filled the rooms, every piece excellently made of the finest woods, carefully preserved, and rubbed with the best oils.
A Swiss clock, which was as much a work of art as it was a timepiece, told her it was still very early, in spite of the bright sunlight filling the room. Louisa turned over, wishing more than soft covers enveloped her lithe body in their satin folds. For a few minutes she considered drifting off to sleep again, then decided she would do what she presumed Aaron had done―go exploring on the grounds.
She rose from the warmth, reaching for a silk robe laid out for her on the chair beside the bed. The fabric was wonderfully pleasing against her skin, and its pattern of large colorful flowers set sharply in a black background made her seem more fragile, even more beguiling than usual. Where's Aaron, she thought again as she gazed at her alluring self in the mirror, suspecting he would find the garment winsome. The gown did not belong to her and she wondered
who had left it for her.
As she moved about the room, Louisa discovered her trunks had been unpacked and each item carefully arranged for her convenience. Her gowns hung in matching wardrobes, all meticulously pressed and waiting for her to don them. Then she thought of the gala dinner William had mentioned last night, and began sorting through her dresses, wondering what she would wear to impress Easton's important guests for whom she and Aaron would be on display. When she remembered the emerald collar Aaron had recently given her, she immediately decided what she would wear.
Louisa pulled the shimmering gown from the closet and tossed it on the bed while she searched the bureaus for her jewels. Finding them, she removed the emerald necklace, wondering at its beauty and its expense; realizing again her fortune was directly tied to the Hudson wealth. Simon was executor of her father's estate, and she presumed that if the Hudson fortune floundered, so would hers. Louisa was certain if the impending war did not go in the South's favor, if Simon's schemes failed, she would somehow suffer the consequences. She eyed the sparkling jewels in her hand, as well as those lying in their mahogany case, trying to reassure herself that whatever the outcome of Simon's dreams, she would not be penniless for a long while.
Louisa sighed, putting the elaborate collar away in its velvet box. As she tucked it away, she uncovered an odd gold chain Marshall had given her one night shortly before they separated. She frowned at this necklace and its pendant which had always distressed her. The chain itself was beautiful old gold, heavy and thick, but incongruously attached to it was a delicate locket and tiny ring. The discrepancy between chain and ornaments annoyed Louisa, and she had never worn them, except on the night they were given to her. But now she stroked the heavy loops of gold in her fingers, suddenly lifting the unusually long chain over her head, staring at herself in the ornate mirror wondering not only about the necklace, but about the night Marshall gave it to her. Even at this distance and expanse of time, she could feel the sensations of that evening―the strange fear mixed with desire; the longing she had felt, and, afterward, Marshall's odd unresponsiveness to her shy requests for him to touch her that way again. "Aaron," she murmured without recognition, staring into the glass, not hearing her own voice.
Suddenly Louisa remembered another necklace Marshall had given her, this one more precious than any other, and of its secret hiding place in her trunks. Their luggage had been carefully emptied and stored, and she made a mental note to retrieve the necklace from its niche without delay.
Louisa dressed in a soft challis gown and rang the bellpull for some assistance with her hair. While she waited for a response, she opened the windows and stepped onto a broad terrace extending from the room over a patio below. The air was crisp and cold as she "looked over the pristine estate. Nothing seemed disturbed by the presence of this magnificent house. It was as if she were alone at the top of the world, and she stood peacefully until she felt someone's presence.
Louisa had not heard a sound except the shimmer of wind as it occasionally passed through the branches arching above her, and she was startled to turn and find a breathtakingly beautiful, though diminutive Oriental woman a few feet from her. The woman waited silently, eyes downcast, with no perceptible motion, even from breathing. Unexpectedly seeing the young woman, Louisa cried out softly in surprise, and the girl bowed submissively.
"I have come to answer your call, madam."
"Oh, yes," Louisa said, composing herself. "I need help with my hair―and, perhaps, something to eat before I go out."
"Yes, madam," replied the woman. "My name is Loo Kim. I will assist you any way I can," and she bowed again.
"Thank you." Louisa hastened inside and seated herself before the dressing table, watching the girl skillfully arid quickly pin her hair. "How long have you been in Mr. Easton's service?"
"For as long as he has settled here."
"How long is that?"
"Perhaps a year."
That would be about right according to Louisa's calculations. She last saw William Easton in New Orleans shortly after her father's death. He had offered her his condolences, and said he wished he could 'assist her in some way. "How little he knew," Louisa said aloud, absorbed in her thoughts.
"Excuse me, madam? I did not understand."
"Nothing. I was lost in my thoughts."
The maid silently disappeared, almost before Louisa noticed her departure. At first Louisa paced the room, then seated herself on a richly brocaded divan, stroking the fabric absentmindedly. She felt restless and uncomfortable, and from the surprises sprung on her the day before, she realized she knew far too little of what was actually going on. She felt herself merely an ornament, and decided the time had come for her to pin Aaron down about details and to find out what was expected of her. "Just how am I going to force anything from him?" she laughed, interrupted in her musings by Loo Kim, who carried a remarkably heavy silver tray laden with ornate serving dishes.
A delicious feast was soon artfully arranged before her while she sat at an elaborately carved table. Louisa looked out into the treetops and basked in warm sunlight which settled into her body like a salve as she ate the simple but elegant meal, the setting complete with a bowl of fragrant exotic flowers to fill her senses. If nothing else, thought Louisa, dining here will certainly be a pleasure. For her enjoyment there were enormous, perfectly ripe red strawberries resting in a bed of geranium leaves, partially covered with heavy sweet cream; large golden croissants, sweet butter, and hot aromatic tea. And since she had not eaten much the evening before, the food revived and soothed her.
When she finished, Louisa took her great cloak, engulfing herself in its folds, and left the room. She stepped onto the second-floor landing to be drenched by sunlight which poured from the partially glassed-in roof above. There were no sounds to assail her ears, and it seemed as if she were totally alone in the house. She strolled the circular corridor slowly, moving from one ornate door to another, speculating on the rooms behind each one, admiring the rich tables, the works of art adorning the walls, and the lush plants that carefully decorated every part of the house. Descending the staircase, Louisa went directly outside, wandering aimlessly at first, wondering where Aaron had gone. The air was very crisp, and so thick were the trees, hardly any sunlight reached through to offer her warmth.
She was glad she had worn her heavy cloak as she hurried into the forest, hearing nothing but the rustling of her skirts in the underbrush and the quiet sounds of the woods: After months in southern California, Louisa was refreshed by the rich abundant pines, the ferns and oaks waving their arms in the constant undulating drafts and wisps of air. She quickened her pace, soon growing warm, lowering the hood of her cape when she climbed to the top of a gentle hill. From there she could see a few buildings clustered together a short distance away, and she wondered if Aaron might be there.
Finding a broad and clear path that allowed the sun to drench her in its soft warmth, Louisa almost ran toward the buildings, discovering they housed horses and other livestock; a variety of workshops she assumed were used to keep the estate running smoothly, and a large, well-stocked greenhouse. She heard a horse whinny and stamp its feet, but otherwise the area was quiet. She found the silent, abandoned atmosphere eerie, but the greenhouse intrigued her, with its strange blooms she could see through moisture-clouded windows. None of the doors to any of the buildings was locked, so her entry to the garden enclosure was unimpeded. The sultriness of the air struck her immediately, and she discarded her heavy cape just inside the door, draping it over a large wooden chair set before a well-used, utilitarian desk, piled high with ledgers and botanical charts.
The shed was filled, floor to ceiling, wall, to wall, with trays and tables thick with plants whose foliage was lush and overwhelming, spreading even into the aisles. Louisa walked curiously among the raised planter boxes, the rich smell of the potting soil pleasing to her senses. From time to time, she was impressed with some fragrance wafting from a beautiful or, occasi
onally, odd bloom. She became engrossed in inspecting this luxuriant vegetation, and didn't notice the intruder until he put his hands on her. Trying to whirl from his grasp, she felt her heart take flight, and her screams were shrill in the thick, still air.
Aaron laughed at her wide-eyed terror.
"My God, Aaron!" she gasped, her face flushed, and her breathing labored. "You've gotten in the habit of scaring me nearly witless," she snapped, then relaxed slightly. "Please don't do it again―how did you know I was here? And why didn't you wake me, and tell me where you'd be?" she continued, her excitement still high, not giving him a chance to reply.
He pulled her tightly into his arms. "You, lady, seem to have the habit of leaving your cloak around to give you away." He kissed her warmly in greeting, feeling her still trembling body, noticing her breath was short and her body restless against him. "I saw you let yourself in here. Did you find anything interesting?" he asked, casually reaching for a strand of blooms, breaking it from the plant, twisting the flowers becomingly into her carefully dressed hair. Louisa was calm now, responding to Aaron's gentle manner, noticing the fragrance from the blossoms on his hands as he caressed her face, raising her mouth to his again. She moved more closely into his embrace, the scent of the flowers, the warmth of the air having its influence on them as they gradually lost all sense of where they were.
Suddenly Louisa wrenched blushing from Aaron's eager hands, the look on her face causing Aaron to turn quickly, his tension lifting when he saw the man Louisa reacted to. "Sorry," he chuckled. "I got distracted―forgot you'd be following." Aaron turned back to Louisa. "This is Samuel Davis, Louisa. You know, of course, who this is, Samuel."
"It's a pleasure, Mrs. Hudson," responded Samuel, his voice rich and melodious, with a softness that belied his height and his confident bearing. Louisa stared momentarily at the handsome black man. He seemed young, but something in his presence told her he was years older than she or Aaron.