Wild legacy

by Conn, Phoebe

  on the shoulder, she was so badly startled she whirled around and shrieked.

  "Mon Dieu!" she cried. "Did you intend to frighten me out of my wits?"

  The lovely blush that flooded her cheeks was so pretty, Etienne almost hated to apologize. "I meant only to bid you a good afternoon. Should I have whistled as I approached?"

  Dominique had to sit down to catch her breath, and then was grateful he had given her such a good excuse for being unable to engage in clever repartee. She raised her hand to plead for a moment. "Whistling would have been crude," she advised when she could, "but you could have called out my name."

  Etienne had taken the time to wash up outside the laundry and put on a clean shirt, so he was badly disappointed that his efforts to impress Dominique had not succeeded. He had not expected her to throw herself into his arms, but he would have appreciated a smile. They were doomed—he knew that now—and he would not sacrifice any more of his pride begging for a kind word.

  "How is Falcon?" he asked.

  Just looking at fetienne hurt, and Dominique wished he had asked after her health first. Obviously he did not care if she had been desperately ill the whole time he had been away. "He is much better, thank you. How are you?"

  "Me?" Etienne was amazed she had thought to ask.

  "I'm so tired I would like to lie down and sleep for a week. Is there a chance I might use the guest room again?"

  "We never turn anyone away," Dominique replied, her chest tightening with a painful ache.

  Etienne assumed that meant yes. "I will not trouble your family long—a day or two and I will be on my way."

  Dominique nodded. Tears clogged her throat and she could not even inquire as to where he intended to go next, then decided it was none of her business anyway. She tried

  to recall when she had last been the vivacious young woman! no man could resist, but the memory was so faint she could i not attach a date to it. She heard Etienne mumble something about looking in on Falcon, but remained in the garden while he went inside. Her tears came easily then, but it was too late to say how much she had missed him.

  stand, but only on my good leg and not for long. I'll do all the work. I just want you here to catch me if I fall. This has to be our secret, Etienne. If Arielle finds out what I'm doing, she'll tie me to the bed."

  Etienne nodded. "I understand. She's worried about you, but it is your leg, after all."

  "Exactly. I hope you didn't have other plans."

  He had not bothered to make any until he had seen Dominique, and now that oversight struck him as foolish and he quickly provided a reasonable prospect. "I had hoped to rejoin the Virginia militia, but they can wait until after your wedding." Despite his best efforts to suppress the thought that he had just been given a reason to remain with the Barclays and enjoy a bit more of Dominique's company, Etienne's floundering hopes soared. He took it as a good omen and vowed not to waste a single moment of his time there.

  "Do you want to practice now?" he asked.

  "This is as good a time as any," Falcon agreed. He could now scoot across the bed without exhausting himself, but waited for Etienne to come around to the side before he pulled himself up. "This is all I've done for the last few days, but it's getting easier each time. Just standing up makes my whole leg throb, so I've been afraid to put any weight on it yet."

  "Shift your weight gradually," Etienne suggested. "Just rest a little on your toes."

  Falcon touched the carpet with his toes and a fierce jolt of pain tore up his leg with near-blinding force. He bit his lip to keep from crying out, then slumped back down on the bed. It took him a moment to catch his breath. "I don't think I can stand to do that again today."

  Etienne knelt in front of Falcon and took his right foot in his hands. He rubbed his thumbs along the sole. "Does this hurt?"

  "No."

  "Good." Working gently, Etienne moved his hands to Falcon's calf muscle. "How about this?"

  Falcon winced. "Yes, and it hurts like hell to bend my knee."

  "Get back up on the bed," Etienne ordered. "My mother used to rub my feet when I was small. My father liked to have her rub his shoulders. You have not been walking for nearly a month. It is no wonder your muscles are sore. If I rub your leg a bit before you try and walk, it will not be so difficult for you."

  "Just don't touch my thigh."

  Etienne raised his hands. "Never."

  Falcon took a deep breath and relaxed against his pillows. "It really is good to have you back. How can I repay you for all you've done for me?"

  Etienne looked down at his buckskins and scuffed moccasins. "I could use a new suit to wear to your wedding, and new shoes of my own."

  "You'll have them, but that's a small thing. I owe you my life. There must be something else you want."

  Etienne noted Falcon's sly grin and realized he already knew what he longed to possess. Fearing it was hopeless, he still decided he had nothing to lose by asking. "I want Dominique. Can you arrange that as easily as shoes and a new suit of clothes?"

  Falcon nodded. "Possibly. Belle will help us work on it."

  Etienne leaned against the post at the foot of the bed and crossed his arms over his chest. "Beau described Dominique as an exceptional beauty, which she most definitely is, as is Belle, but he suggested I pretend to resist her charms if I wished to impress her. Unfortunately, she has not flirted with me, so how am I to resist the charms she has not displayed? I am afraid I am only wasting my time, and annoying her. We argue every time we are together."

  His friend's anguish was so painful to observe, Falcon gave the problem serious thought and then leaned forward.

  "Invite Dominique on a picnic. Take her down by the river and just talk to her. You're a fisherman's son. Catch a few fish. Belle and I always enjoyed doing that."

  Etienne straightened up. "Does Dominique like to fish?"

  "She knows how, but she's not had a chance to fish just for fun. None of her callers ever thought to take her with them, but there's beautiful scenery along the river, and if you did no more than sit together and enjoy the view, you would surely impress her."

  Etienne did not understand how, but the fall weather was still warm enough for a picnic, and wanting to be alone with Dominique no matter what the excuse, he agreed to give it a try. "Perhaps you could influence her to accept my invitation."

  "Of course. You're our guest. She'll be obliged to entertain you. Just don't give her a reason to slap you again."

  "I know better now," Etienne promised, but he was not absolutely convinced that he truly did.

  Because both of Arielle's daughters were more slender than they had been when they'd had their last gowns made, she decided to check their measurements before sending for the seamstress. When she discovered Belle's waistline had not decreased like Dominique's but was an inch and a quarter larger, she measured her again and then made a note of the figure. She could think of only one reason a young woman might lose weight but expand in the waist, but chose not to confront her. She had been pregnant with Beau when she had wed Byron, so had good reason to be an understanding mother.

  "Your father was rather vague about the date," Arielle remarked. "But let's not rely upon Falcon's progress to schedule such an important event. If we have the wedding here rather than in town, we can help him down the stairs,

  and in two weeks he should be able to stand long enough to repeat his vows. Would you like that?"

  Because her clothing was all looser now, Belle had not noticed the increase in her waist measurement until her mother had written it down. She had then prayed Arielle would not realize there was such a difference. Although elated to be able to have the wedding in just two weeks' time, she tried to appear merely pleased.

  "Yes. That's more than enough time to complete our gowns, but I don't want anything too elaborate. It would be unseemly now."

  "The war will be over one day," Arielle reminded her, "but your memories of your wedding will last a lifetime. You shall have the
most beautiful dress in all of Williamsburg, and Dominique's will be lovely as well."

  Dominique had already pulled on her gown and adjusted the lace at the sleeves. "I only wore my pale blue gown once," she proposed. "Why don't I wear it again? No one in the family will remember it, and it will save us the expense."

  Dominique had become so practical since her return from South Carolina that Arielle was continually amazed. "I do remember that dress. Try it on to make certain it still looks new before you make your decision. If you want to wear it again, you may, but there is no need to worry about the cost of a new gown."

  "Well, perhaps it is high time that we began to worry," Dominique replied. "There will be enough flowers in the garden to fill the house, and as always plenty of delicious food, but we ought to hire musicians."

  "I doubt Falcon will be able to dance," Belle said, "but that doesn't mean everyone else shouldn't. Do you suppose Etienne knows how to dance?"

  Afraid her distress would show in her expression, Dominique strolled over to the window before replying. "He told me he'd only be with us a couple of days."

  Falcon had repeated his conversation with Etienne, and although eager to help the Frenchman, Belle attempted to sound nonchalant. "Well, he's changed his mind," she informed her sister.

  Dominique listened with growing alarm as Belle described Etienne's desire to remain with them until the wedding. "How very thoughtful of him," she replied.

  "Yes," Belle enthused. She donned her gown and stood still while her mother laced up the bodice. "We do owe him a great deal. Falcon doesn't want him to feel obligated to help him, though. He would like him to be treated as a guest. Do you suppose you might invite him out for a picnic tomorrow?"

  Unaware of her daughter's intentions," Arielle raised her brows. "The last time you girls went for a picnic, you were gone for weeks."

  Dominique's mouth had suddenly gone dry, and she sounded hoarse when she spoke. "There's so much to do with your wedding in just two weeks. I doubt I'll have the time."

  "Make the time," Belle encouraged. "You've not had a bit of fun lately, and you've told me yourself you find Etienne charming."

  At last perceiving Belle's intentions, Arielle also encouraged her daughter. "We've always entertained our guests with whatever amusements we could, but I fear we are dreadfully out of practice. I imagine if given the opportunity, Etienne could tell you some exciting stories. He served with Lafayette, and perhaps was with him at Valley Forge."

  Dominique's mouth fell agape. "He knows the Marquis de Lafayette?"

  "Yes. Didn't he tell you?" Arielle frowned slightly, then thought it an advantage that the young man had not bragged to Dominique about his exploits. "He appears to be modest, which is another point in his favor."

  Dominique felt trapped. After the calamitous tour of the

  tobacco fields, in which Etienne had had the audacity to compare her unfavorably to a whore, she had vowed never to entertain another guest. He was, of course, the same guest, and that awful morning now seemed a long while ago.

  "I fear I'm not nearly as good at entertaining our guests as I used to be," she admitted unhappily. "I doubt I can summon the necessary enthusiasm anymore."

  Arielle caressed her daughter's cheek. "Etienne does not strike me as the type who would be drawn to superficial charm so you need not worry. Just go and have a pleasant picnic and talk with him. Speak French. Peel apples in a single strip. Just be happy again, cherie. You deserve to be."

  Dominique was not certain she could even remember how that felt, but after rushing up to her room directly after supper to avoid having to speak with Etienne, she marshalled the necessary courage to accompany him on a picnic the following day. After all, what could possibly happen under the sunny autumn skies? she asked herself, but when he took her hand as they left the house, she began to fear that she knew.

  "Falcon told me the fishing was good upriver, but I did not really believe that you would want to fish," Etienne said.

  Grateful that he recognized her tastes were nothing like Belle's even if Falcon didn't, Dominique began to relax. "Thank you. I would rather do almost anything than fish."

  Etienne laughed at her unintentional humor. "Then I will assume that you like being with me better than fishing."

  Dominique felt breathless although he was thoughtfully gauging the length of his step to hers. She had always loved parties, but she could remember the girls who had hidden in the shadowed corners and merely watched the others dance. She had never understood what it meant to be shy until last summer when her whole life had been turned in-

  side out and nothing she had ever done had made any sense since then.

  "I used to be such an amusing companion," she confided suddenly, "but now I think I was merely too foolish to understand there is more to life than knowing the latest dance."

  Dominique had given Etienne a timid smile when they had set out that morning. He had expected to have to coax her into going on a picnic, but she had been waiting for him, all prepared. He would have to thank Falcon and Belle for that, but for the moment he was concerned only with Dominique. He could feel her drawing away from him although her hand still lay in his. He did not want to rush her again, but it was so difficult to contain his own emotions, he did not know if he could adequately assess hers.

  "You are the very best of companions," he argued. "You have told me what is in your heart, and I have behaved very badly. You have every right to be sad, and I should never have compared you to a woman who must be paid for her favors. That was not just insulting, it was mean and I never asked your forgiveness. Will you forgive me now?"

  Dominique had to move in front of him for a moment as the path narrowed around a poplar, but when they could again walk hand in hand, she thanked him. "Yes. Of course, I will. I think we were both at fault that day."

  "No. Absolutely not. I should never have spoken so crossly to you, and then later, I fear I did something even worse."

  Dominique could not imagine what he meant. "I didn't even see you later. Well, perhaps for a moment at the docks, but surely you can't be referring to that."

  Etienne recalled that instant clearly. After waving goodbye to Beau, Dominique had turned with a graceful swirl. As she had glanced toward her home, their eyes had met briefly. Her expression had been one of shocked surprise,

  tinged with what he had assumed was disappointment, but he had been too angry with her to care.

  "No. It happened later. I went out for a walk that night, and saw you weeping in the garden. I knew you were not crying for me, but I should have gone to you and offered the comfort I had failed to provide that morning."

  The day was warm and clear, and Etienne had suddenly become so thoughtful that Dominique scarcely recognized him as the brash young man who had previously confused her at every turn. She recalled how miserably unhappy she had been that night and shared the reason. "I'd never fallen in love," she admitted softly, "and when I did, it was with a man whose motives I never should have trusted. That it ended badly was my fault as much as his, but it was tragic all the same."

  Her lovely voice was husky with the remembered heartbreak, and no longer able to ignore her sorrow, Etienne drew her to a halt. "This is a pretty place. Let's stop here."

  An ancient oak shaded the path, and off to the side, a wide stretch of grass beckoned invitingly. Dominique didn't care where they ate their lunch, and readily agreed. She helped him spread out the blanket, but the minute she sat down, Etienne knelt beside her and pulled her into his arms.

  "I have never met anyone as sad as you, cherie. If you want to cry forever, I will be content to hold you."

  He was wearing a clean pair of buckskins, and as Dominique rested her cheek against his shoulder, his invitation held an irresistible appeal. She had not meant to burden him with her pain, but touched by his sympathetic response, her tears dripped down the fringe adorning his sleeve and onto the grass at his elbow. He rubbed her back, and in a moment, pulled her down acro
ss his lap to cradle her in his arms more easily. She reached into her pocket for a handkerchief, but it was soon soaked and she held it in trembling hands.

  Etienne removed her cap and tossed away her combs. She

  was dressed in an aqua gown that matched her eyes. He bent his head to kiss her damp cheek, and then gazed out at the river while he waited for her to shed however many tears it took to mend her broken heart. He would have stayed with her until nightfall and then carried her home, but Dominique had already experienced too much grief and soon exhausted this new bout of tears.

  She cuddled against him, and, as always, felt at home in his embrace. Even after she had regained her composure, she hesitated to move and end such a perfect moment, fetienne had always been physically appealing, but she was ashamed not to know more than that he was the son of an Acadian who believed in freedom and spoke with a delicious accent. He was unlike anyone she had ever known, and yet, as he looked down at her, she saw her future reflected in his eyes.

  With the same graceful ease she had charmed so many other men, she slid her arm around his neck to invite a kiss; and his response was immediate, and wildly enthusiastic. Thrilled with his fervor, she laughed and coaxed him down onto the blanket. She loved his thick curls and light eyes and the way he held her as though she were precious. She slid her hands under his shirt and ran her fingertips along the scar crossing his shoulder.

  Responding to her enticing touch, Etienne yanked his shirt off over his head and tossed it aside, and Dominique welcomed him back into her arms. His devouring kisses made her hungry for more, and when he turned her in his arms to unlace the back of her gown, she melted into him rather than pulling away. She caught a glimpse of cloudless sky and a canopy of leaves, then saw only Etienne as he freed her breasts and licked her nipples into taut buds he again grazed with his teeth.