In the end, the. Vicar gave a stirring sermon upon the sin of greed and vice, and the ultimate down-fall–illustrated nicely by the dead being laid to rest that day–of those who would follow that un-Christian path. He asked God's forgiveness of those poor souls who had strayed so far from righteousness, and asked the congregation to heed the lesson before them of those whose weaknesses had led them astray.
Elysia, Lord Trevegne, and Peter had accompanied Louisa to the burial, Elysia acutely conscious of the fact that it might very easily have been her they were eulogizing that morning.
Ian had returned to London two days previously, and was expected back within the week. Elysia rather expected he would bring a ring back with him when he returned; also, she suspected he might resign his commission when this war with Napoleon was over—if it ever would end. There was work to do at Blackmore Hall. It could be a profitable estate, if run honestly, and it would benefit the farmers to regain their land, and to have the mines opened again. Yes, there would be plenty to occupy Ian's time when he returned.
The late Squire's guests had swiftly returned to London, not staying for the services, their excuses of urgent business clearly understood. Lady Woodley had left also—a piece of information from Louisa that had interested her extremely; for Alex was still here, and apparently not making plans to leave as yet.
The laying to rest of the Blackmores had been that morning, under clear blue skies with puffy white clouds indolently drifting by overhead, casting their shadows on the countryside below. Now darkness had fallen, and a yellow moon was rising high in the black sky; vying for dominance against the billions of twinkling stars. They looked like brilliant jewels just out of reach, but near enough to tantalize; Elysia thought dreamily. She turned back from the window where she had been staring out into the night, at the sound of two footmen entering the room, and setting up a small table before the fireplace. She watched appreciatively, as they set out the sparkling china and crystal. A small, fluted, bud vase was placed in the center of the now lace-covered table; its faceted curves imprisoning the flames from the fire, as a single red rose was just beginning to open its fragrant petals to the warmth of the flames.
Elysia's heart began to hammer uncomfortably as she noticed the service for two being set, and the silver bucket of iced champagne placed beside the table. She continued to watch in dismay as the tall, slender candles were lit.
Surely Alex was not planning to dine with her alone—in this romantically contrived setting. Elysia dropped down into a chair, her legs refusing to hold her as she slumped forward, feeling her strength ebbing away. How could she fight him any longer? She had not the strength—nor the heart. She had been fooling herself. Now that it came to a confrontation with him, she was a coward. To be mistress of his home, and bear his sons; that was only a dream to occupy her lonely nights.
In the cold revealing light of day she knew that she would not be able to do it—not loving him the way she did. She could not bear to sit across from him in candlelight, knowing he was thinking of another woman—unable to touch him, show him her love. No! She could not endure such Hell.
"Good evening, M'Lady.' Alex came into the salon smiling his crooked half-smile that tore at her heart. He casually flicked an imaginary speck of dust from his black velvet sleeve, the white lacy cuffs of his shirt sleeves peeking out provocatively, contrasting vividly with his darkness. All he needed now was a black patch over one eye and he would make a perfect pirate. His white teeth gleamed brightly against his tanned face, as he told her with apparent indifference, "I thought you might prefer to dine upstairs this evening. It has been a rather tiring day." He looked at her critically. "You could use the rest, m'dear, You're looking a bit pale."
"I seriously doubt, M'Lord, whether purple bruises are in fashion at the moment," Elysia was stung into replying sarcastically.
"Ah," he breathed, “I am pleased to hear that your fall did not knock out that wonderful wit of yours. I would sorely miss it. I had begun to wonder if indeed you had misplaced it, M'Lady," he said quizzically with a hawk-like gaze upon her face.
"No indeed, M'Lord, I still possess all of my beloved attributes. They are merely inactive at the moment. I am sure you will understand and excuse me if I have had other and more important things on my mind at the moment than to entertain Your Lordship with my witticisms."
"Bravo! You are fast returning to form, m'dear," he laughed, as if thoroughly enjoying himself. His eyes wandered proprietarily over her figure, clad in a green velvet robe with a revealing décolletage.
Misunderstanding his look, Elysia explained defensively, "I have just bathed, and had not reckoned on entertaining before having completed my dressing."
"You need no further dressing on my account, M'Lady. After all, I am your husband—and have seen you in less," he said impertinently, watching her blush at his words. "Shall we dine? I do believe I've a hunger this evening."
Elysia eyed him suspiciously as he guided her solicitously to her chair, dismissing the footmen after they had placed the silver-covered platters on the table.
"Allow me to serve you, M'Lady," Alex said pleasantly, selecting a platter of poached turbot, covered with a creamy sauce, for her inspection. "May I tempt you with this juicy piece?" He forked it expertly onto her plate, adding a slice of ham basted with Madeira, followed by stuffed lettuce, oysters, liqueur-flavored' jellies, potatoes in Hollandaise sauce, and lobster. There were countless other platters still covered.
Elysia stared at her loaded plate without appetite. How could she take a mouthful with him sitting not two feet from her? Always before, they'd had the great length of banqueting table between them. This was much too close for comfort.
Alex seemed not in the least bit affected as Elysia watched him expertly open his oysters, forking the soft, succulent fish into his mouth hungrily. He looked up before biting into the shimmering jelly, and gave her a wondering look. "You're not hungry? Antoine has indeed surpassed himself this evening." He ran the tip of his tongue along his upper lip, dabbing at the corner of his mouth gracefully. “Are you sure you are not in the least bit hungry? Here, have a bite of this lobster." He held a forkful out to her, enticing her with its aroma before her nose. "Come now, be a good girl, and take a bite."
Elysia found herself unable to resist him in this mood of gentle raillery, and submitted, taking a bite of the lobster, then surprising herself by eating hungrily of the food on her plate, under the approving gaze of her husband.
Alex kept their wine glasses filled with the darkly-aged red wine. It warmed her within as the heat from the fireplace warmed her skin with a pinkening glow outside.
Elysia was feeling relaxed and pleasingly lightheaded as she reclined on the sofa, with the room taking on a rosy glow, as the fire crackled lazily in the grate. Alex handed Elysia a brimming glass of bubbling champagne despite her protestations that she'd had enough, but Alex was insistent and she gave in as before and accepted it, the bubbles tickling her nose as she sipped it.
"Now, we will talk," Alex spoke suddenly, breaking their companionable silence with a hard voice.
Elysia stiffened automatically, struggling· to gather her thoughts into some semblance of order. If only Alex hadn't plied her with so much wine. She could hardly think coherently.
"It's no use, m'dear," Elysia stared at him hazily. "I intentionally got you relaxed, and slightly drunk," he said bluntly, his eyes never leaving her flushed face.
Elysia's hands shook as she carefully placed the half-empty, golden goblet of champagne down on the table by the sofa. "Why?" she demanded thickly.
"Because, my dear wife, in a slightly besotted state, that sharp mind of yours is not working as quickly as it is accustomed to doing. You will not be able to parry my questions so easily, nor confuse the issue by putting me on the defensive, as you are so capable of doing.”
There was a grimness in his determination as he settled himself more comforta
bly, as if in preparation for a long evening.
She would have gotten up and walked out on him, but she seriously doubted whether she could get to the door—or for that matter, even as far as her feet.
"I owe you an apology," Alex began abruptly . "I should have realized that you, of all people, would not be involved in any kind of intrigue or dalliance. However, I do not think that I can be wholly to blame for the mistake I made since you were unable to enlighten me otherwise. But that is past, and done with. I can only say that I am sorry for doubting you . . .” he paused and continued with difficulty, "and I regret deeply what I did to your doll. Dany has told me how much it meant to you. That is something that I cannot replace.
"But I can change what has happened between us—we can start anew. I can build something decent, for once in my life, and I want to build it with you, Elysia—you by my side as my wife—and lover."
The fuzziness was rapidly lifting from Elysia's sodden brain. She stared at Alex in disbelief before crying out in a husky voice full of hurt and outrage.
"Is this another of your tormenting games that we are to play? For if it is, then you are no gentleman. Indeed, once before you told me that you were not, but I did not take warning of that as I should have. You do not play by any rules, do you, Alex? You do not care how low you sink to hurt and degrade someone." Elysia felt hot tears on her face as she managed to get to her feet.
Alex's face had paled, and his lips were tightened in a grim line, as he listened to Elysia's rejection of his apology and declaration in disbelief.
"You stand there, after wining and dining me so attentively, brazenly lying to me with your false declarations of husbandly devotion, while your mistress awaits you eagerly in London. How many nights of this new life are we to share before you desert me and run to her?
"'She will not come where she knows she is not welcome,’ you said, or have you forgotten uttering those words to your lady love in the library?" Elysia demanded angrily, her humiliation coming back to her as she remembered painfully those endless moments.
"Oh, God!” Alex laughed harshly, the sound grating on Elysia's ears. "That those words should come back to haunt me. A fine performance, nevertheless, wouldn't you agree my dear?" he said, as if he hated himself, his lip curled in self-loathing.
"What do you mean by performance?" Elysia watched him nervously.
"I hate to disappoint you, but I am not the complete knave that you would believe me to be. Maybe a damned fool, yes, but not quite that despicable. I have done many things in my life of which I am not proud, but I have never lied to anyone. Do you not know that I have always known that you hide yourself away up in the loft, a place where no one can bother you—or torment you."
Elysia looked startled. He knew of her retreat? But how?
"I am aware of a few things that go on around here—not many it would seem, but I have eyes and ears and do see a few things, like you going into the library with a book—and disappearing. It's an apparently empty room until I hear the crackling of a page being turned"
He grimaced. "I would not blame you if you did not believe me, but I knew that you were up in the loft that day. I spoke what I did to Mariana because I knew you would be my audience. I wanted to hurt you, as you'd hurt me—or so I'd thought. Blast my damnable temper, but I'd been mad with jealousy of you—thinking Ian your lover, believing you to be like so many other women, I have known, not worthy of trust and love. At first I'd thought you different."
"Y-you knew that I was up there in the loft . . . a-and that I would hear you making love to Lady Woodley?" Elysia asked faintly, scarcely understanding what he was saying to her.
"Yes I did. It was the act of a cruel and selfish man who struck out blindly in his rage—not caring who he injured."
"So you do not really intend to meet Lady Woodley in London? You do not really love her?" Elysia asked hesitantly, almost afraid to voice her thoughts for fear that it was all a hallucination; a cruel trick her mind was playing on her-to hear what she had not dreamed possible from Alex.
"No, I do not love her." His smile was bittersweet. "How could I ever love anyone else after having loved you, held you in my arms and felt your sweet kisses against my mouth?" he jerked out hoarsely. "But I believed that you hated me, were in love with another man. I have nearly wronged you once more by accosting your brother Ian—and a more surprised young man I have yet to meet, when I demanded what his intentions were toward you. I thought I had lost you—so once again I acted the madman." A light entered his eyes making them glow like two burning flames. "I had wondered why the devil you were in that cave with Mrs. Blackmore," he said softly, eyeing her in speculation. "It would seem that Peter is to be your confidante—but you should know before you confide in him any further, that Peter cannot keep a secret, It is physically impossible for him; he explodes unless he can tell someone."
Alex moved to stand closer to Elysia, his arms outstretched in supplication, as he continued in that quiet tone. "You were placed in unreasonable danger because you thought that I needed you—even though you had just overheard that damned scene in the library. I asked myself why? Why would you do that unless you loved me, despite all that had happened–you loved me. It has given me hope, again, that I have not lost you."
Elysia felt tears brimming in her eyes at his words. It could not be true. She shook her head dazedly letting his words sink in, but she was still thinking so slowly, her reactions dulled by the wine. Alex, alert to her every expression and movement, mistook her actions, and with a groan sank down onto the satin chair, his dark head held in his hands as he stared morosely at the carpet.
"I love you, Elysia. Can that mean anything to you? I've been a fool and a cad; I have been half-crazed since knowing you. I thought myself so clever—making use of you for my own ends. You were so vulnerable for me to exploit. I won't lie to you that I loved you at first; I didn't even know the meaning of the word. But I desired you as any red-blooded man would desire a beautiful woman. When first I saw you, I didn't realize it at the time, but things were beginning to refocus in my mind it wasn't until later that I clearly understood this change. So in the meantime, I ruthlessly made use of our predicament; excusing myself by thinking that what I offered you was far better than what you would have faced in London—and you would have been grateful to me.
"But everything began to get out of control, for you were not like other women I had been involved with—you hated me. That was something new in itself, but even more, I found myself thinking about you, dreaming of you—until you became an obsession with me. I told myself that it was mere physical desire that I was feeling, but even after I had made you mine I still wanted you more than ever and not just your body. I was jealous of every thought of yours that was not mine. When I saw you fallen under those trees in the copse, I died a thousand deaths, thinking you dead. That is when I knew that I loved you beyond my wildest imaginings."
He stood up and walked over to the fire, staring down into the flames. "I am a man who has lived fully, taking what he has wanted—my desires always fulfilled. Now, I want you. I could force my will on you—force you to live with me. You are in my home where I am complete master. You bear my name—and possibly are carrying my child at this moment. Those are hard ties to break. But I will not force you to come to me, nor stay with me—if you desire to live elsewhere. I would like to keep you locked up–imprisoned here, with only me to be in your mind and heart. I am an arrogant and cruel man, and I am a selfish and jealous husband—unwilling to share you with anyone, now that I've found the one woman I love—something I had believed impossible for me.
"But in finding that I love you, I've also lost. For I cannot hurt you in order to have my desires fulfilled." He stood easily before the fire as if he only sought its warmth; the only sign of his agitation were his hands-the knuckles showing white against the tanned skin.
Elysia smiled thoughtfully. He was right, he was an arrogant man—n
ot really cruel, just used to his own way, proud and imperious. But she loved him. She smiled wider, the smile lighting up her green eyes–and he loved her.
A log fell in the fireplace, the sparks flying as it settled and was consumed by the flames. Elysia moved, her immobility broken by the sound. The bonds that had held her, in what she thought must be an enchanted spell, were broken as she made her way to the man she loved
Alex felt soft arms entwine his waist as Elysia pressed herself against his broad back, hugging him close to her, as if she were afraid he would disappear before she could tell him how much she loved him. He felt the heat rise in his body—a heat not caused by the closeness of the fire. She rubbed her cheek against his shoulder, but he remained still, allowing her to make the first move.
"Alex." Her voice sounded like a contended purr in his ear, as she snuggled against him like a little cat. "I've come to like it here, M'Lord, In fact, I rather fancy myself in the role of Lady of the Manor, and how could I manage to keep my wits sharp if I didn't have such an arrogant, self-opinionated, insufferable—and loveable husband?" she added softly.
Elysia felt Alex's shoulders shake, and heard the deep rumble of laughter as it shook within his chest. He grabbed her arms and released himself. Turning around he swung her up into his arms, holding her tightly against his heart.
"Ah, M'Lady, Was there ever another like you?" he laughed with delight. "You have heard of the Trevegne luck? They say I'm in league with the Devil—well, there’ll be no putting an end to the rumor now. Once they've seen my green-eyed witch of a wife, weaving her spells about us all. But," he added warningly, "only I shall master her, and receive her honeyed kisses. No doubt our children will have horns and tails, but we belong to each other as no man or woman have before."
Devil's Desire Page 31