Stubble grew thick on Quint’s chin and his coat was a size too small for him. In comparison to Avery’s rich and immaculate attire, Quint resembled a beggar, but he still had the power to stir the blood in Dera’s veins. She couldn’t meet his steady stare.
His stormy gaze swept over her, then rested on Avery. “Aye, my lord?”
“The mare, Flannery.”
Quint went to one of the stalls and led out a chestnut colored animal with a tawny mane. The horse stood perfectly still in front of Dera and Avery.
���For you, my dear. She is a very gentle and docile animal. Call this a belated wedding gift,” Avery said.
She didn’t trust her voice. “I can’t believe this is for me. I’ve never owned a horse, though I have ridden before.” She reached out and stroked the animal’s nose. “You’re too kind,” she said.
She touched Avery with her gratitude. He enjoyed giving her things because she was so unspoiled. “What will you call her?” he asked.
“Darcie is a pleasing name.”
Avery addressed Quint. “Whenever my wife wishes to ride, have the horse ready for her.”
“Aye, my lord.”
Avery touched Dera’s arm. “Let’s be getting back. This cold is going right through my bones.”
She nodded and patted Darcie one last time. She cast a sidelong glance at Quint. He stood by the horse with a surly expression on his face.
“Good day to you, Lady Fairfax,” he said, turning his back on her and leading Darcie to her stall.
Avery and Dera returned to the house. He helped her off with her cloak. “Your cheeks look hotter than a blazing hearth, Dera.”
She put her hands to her face in an attempt to cool her cheeks, but her hands were also hot. Her whole body felt as if it were on fire. “I chafe easily,” she said, but she knew the cold air hadn’t caused her condition. It was seeing Quint again and being so near to him. Her heart beat rapidly; her pulses pounded.
“You better rest, lest you become ill,” Avery advised with a worried frown.
“Yes, I shall.” She left him and went upstairs to the security of her room and noticed a strange woman moving about, putting her clothes in order. “Where’s Katie?” Dera asked.
The woman curtsied. “Begging your pardon, ma’am. I’m Anna Morrison. If you’re Lady Fairfax, I’m to tend to your wants from now on as your personal maid.”
“My husband told me you would be arriving from London. I’m pleased to know you.”
“And I you, my lady.” Anna straightened, and Dera saw a woman about twenty years older than herself. She was as plain as an uniced cake; her hair was brown and short and streaked with gray in places. Her eyes were kind and Dera instantly liked her.
That night, Anna prepared Dera for bed. She brushed Dera’s long hair and fluffed it about her back. “My, but you’re a pretty one. Even in London, I never worked for such a beautiful lady.”
Dera laughed. “I’m not a lady, Anna. Before Lord Fairfax set his eyes upon me, I was the niece of his overseer.���
Avery knocked on the door and poked his head in. “May I come in?” he asked.
“Of course.” Dera dismissed Anna and rose to greet him. She wore a simple blue wrap that enhanced her natural beauty more than any elaborate gown.
���How do you like your maid?��� Avery inquired.
���She���s nice and quite competent. Thank you for hiring her.���
���You���re more than welcome.��� Silently he reached into the pocket of his dressing gown and withdrew such a dazzling necklace that it almost blinded Dera with its brilliance. ���Turn around,��� he said and clasped the necklace about her neck.
���Oh, my lord,��� she whispered in disbelief and looked into the mirror. The diamonds lay against the beauty of her fair skin, flashing their cold fire.
���Happy Christmas, my dear.���
She turned from the mirror. ���You���ve given me so much and I���ve given you nothing.���
���Not true. Your fair self is gift enough. I like to indulge you.���
She went to him and put her hands against his chest to balance herself. She leaned upward and her warm lips touched his. ���Thank you, again.���
���Dera.��� His tone was tender, but his eyes belied that sentiment. He pulled her against him and kissed her passionately. A part of her became aroused at the physical contact, and she wrapped her arms around him.
���If you want me, I���m yours,��� she said, surprising herself with the words.
He groaned in anguish and held her tighter. ���God knows how much I want you, but I can���t. Wasn���t last night proof enough for you?���
“I’ll help you if you tell me what to do.”
He hung his head low, a woebegone expression replacing the passion, and loosed his hold on her. He couldn’t bear the thought of failing again, of being humiliated once more. Gently, he kissed her forehead. “Sleep well, my dear. I shall see you on the morrow.” Releasing her, he left her room and headed for his own, where he took a huge brandy bottle from his bedside and contented himself with drink until blessed oblivion overtook him.
Dera removed the diamond necklace and lay against the cool sheets. She held the stones against the warmth of her body, but they offered only cold comfort. Wanting to help Avery wasn’t enough. She realized her predicament. She could do nothing for him. Somehow over the years, a part of him had been destroyed, and she had no idea how to aid him. It saddened her to see him so unhappy.
Her eyelids grew heavy, she drifted into a half sleep. She imagined that Avery stood above her bed, naked and starved with passion, kissing her until the heat of desire overtook her. She pressed against him, aching for fulfillment, for consummation. He lifted his head from her breasts, but Avery’s face had disappeared. Quint, with desire shining in his eyes, was now above her. She didn’t know where Avery had gone, and she didn’t care. Quint moved into her. She felt herself swirling, longing for the inevitable.
A branch blew against the window pane. Her eyes opened, expecting Quint to be with her, but as she sat up, she realized she had been dreaming.
She clutched the diamonds so hard while asleep that their imprint was left on her palm. She placed the necklace on the bedside table and tried to sleep. For the rest of the night she listened to the wind howling outside as she tossed and turned. Her body ached for Quint, her soul suffered. Without Quint, she was incomplete and she doubted if she would ever feel whole again.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
The new year brought the first snowfall. To Dera, the estate looked as if it were out of a fairy tale. The entire landscape was swathed in a white counterpane of ice, and icicles that hung precariously from the bare tree limbs glistened in the sunlight like shiny daggers.
Avery worked busily in his library and Dera was bored sitting by the fire, counting stitches all morning. She remembered as a child how excited she had been by the first snowfall. She wanted some of that excitement now.
Throwing down her embroidery, she threw on her fur cloak and pulled on matching gloves and warm, soft boots. She wondered if Avery would like to accompany her, but she decided against asking him, because he chilled easily. When she stepped into the snow outside the parlor doors, she breathed deeply and filled her lungs with the fresh, winter air. She plodded through the snow, not certain where she was going or what she would do; just being part of nature’s beauty and being free for a moment was enough for her. At times she found the manor stifling. She had nothing of importance to do and no friends to visit her; the loneliness oppressed her.
Bending down, she scooped up a handful of snow. As a child, she and the estate children had made images of animals and people in the snow. Dera smiled, recalling how once she had helped to make an eight foot long ice image of Lord Avery Fairfax, complete with wig, cane and two glassy, green buttons to serve as eyes. Of course
, the snowman looked nothing like Avery, but the children were pleased with the results. It filled a need to ridicule the man all of them served and hated.
“Ouch!” Dera felt a hard lump of ice land against her back. She turned and saw Tommy Malone, a kitchen boy, laughing in delight at her reaction. He was three years younger than she and still very much a child. To him, she wasn’t a grand lady but only the girl who had helped him build snowmen. “I’ll get you, you little imp!��� she called and hurled a handful of snow at him.
Tommy’s slight figure dodged the oncoming snowball. “You be a bad throw Dera. Always did have poor aim.” He grinned and pelted her again.
The small ball of ice landed on the inside of her cloak and she shivered. “That was a cold one, Tommy Boy. I���ll get you yet.”
But before she could make another snowball, he had already hit her again, knocking her from her feet. She laughed and held out her hand to him. “All right, I give in. Come help me up.”
Tommy ran over. “You be just as clumsy now as before,” he joked. He took her hand and helped her up, both of them laughing.
“Dera!”
They turned in the direction of the manor. Avery stood outside the library doors. “I want you in here. Now!” he roared.
“Holy angels in heaven,” breathed Tommy. “I’ve gotten you in trouble with his lordship. Me too. He’ll be having me beat for certain. I meant no harm.���
“Don’t worry,” Dera assured the pale faced boy. “Lord Fairfax won’t hurt you.”
“He has a heavy hand, Dera.”
“Lord Fairfax has beaten you before?”
“Aye, he has that and many others for less than this. I can’t take it again.” His voice cracked; he shuddered.
���Go back to your duties, Tommy. I’ll take care of everything.”
He took off like the Devil was behind him.
She retraced her steps and entered Avery’s library. He stood in the middle of the floor, his hands on his hips.
���You look wretched,” he said. “Your cape is wet through, your hair is stringy. Whatever possessed you to go outside and behave like a peasant? Frolicking with a kitchen boy! Really, Dera. I demand an explanation!”
Avery appeared so stern that for a moment she felt the inclination to laugh. He was playing the father and she was his wayward daughter. “I’m sorry for upsetting you, but no one was about. And Tommy’s only a lad. He meant no disrespect. I was bored, Avery. There’s nothing for me to do.”
“Lad, my eye,” he scoffed. “He didn’t look at you like a child, Dera. I don’t like you cavorting with the likes of him.” He came closer, the smell of liquor and tobacco clung to him. “Just what does this boy mean to you?”
“We’re friends. I never thought you’d be so upset if I went outdoors. I won’t do it again without asking your permission.”
She resembled a homeless waif standing before him in her wet garb, and despite his anger, he softened a bit. “I don’t object so much to your going out, but I hope never to catch you treating the servants as equals. You’re my wife now, not a peasant. Stay away from them, especially the male servants, or they might misinterpret your actions. Go and take off those wet things before you catch a chill.”
Dera unhooked her cloak and tossed it across her arm. “You won’t punish Tommy, will you? He’s still a child.���
“I’ve told you before that I can’t be lenient with these people or they’ll take advantage. Anyone who displeases me is punished. Yes, it���s customary for the boy to take a whipping or he���ll never learn.���
���Please don���t. He didn���t understand. I was as much to blame.���
“That is not the custom,” he said sternly.
She walked over to him and touched his cheek. “I never believed you to be unfeeling. Please don’t harm the boy. For me.”
The girl had the oddest effect on him. All she had to do was look at him with those pleading, violet eyes and he became like unmolded clay in her hands. Damn her! he cursed inwardly, but he knew he would do as she asked. “All right, Dera. I’ll not harm him. Just to prove to you that I’m not an ogre.”
���I didn’t mean that������
“Just go. I have things to tend to.”
“Thank you, Avery. You are a kind man.” She left him, but instead of going to her room, she went to the kitchen to see Tommy and hopefully put his mind at ease.
The servants buzzed like flies, prepar ing the evening meal. They looked up, astonished to see Lady Fairfax invading their domain.
The old cook came forward, wiping her hands on her apron. “Can I help you, Lady Fairfax?”
“Yes,” Dera said, aware that every eye was upon her. “I’m looking for Tommy Malone. I’d like to speak with him.”
“That isn’t possible, my lady. Young Tommy isn’t here.”
“When will he be back?”
“He won’t be coming back. A short while ago, he flew in here like a rooster with no head, packed all his things, and off he went. Didn’t say where he was going either. ‘Tis mighty peculiar. The lad’s been here since he was ten. Told me to tell his parents not to worry, that he’d make out fine.���
���Oh, no,” Dera voiced her despair.
“Is there anything I can do, my lady?” The cook looked at her curiously.
Dera shook her head. “Thank you for the information.” She went to her room, the responsibility for Tommy’s disappearance resting on her shoulders. She should have known better than to indulge in a snowball fight with the boy. True, she knew him from her childhood years, but now she was Avery’s wife. She felt foolish to have been treated like a child by Avery, and she hadn’t liked his questions about Tommy and their relationship. He sullied her character with his innuendos. She would never bring shame upon him by consorting with the servants. The only one she had brought shame upon was poor Tommy, who had fled the manor.
She wondered just how often Avery beat his servants. Living an isolated existence with Timothy, she had no idea of what really happened at the manor, but she knew Avery could be cold and vicious when provoked. The memory of Jem McConnell lying helpless upon the ground the day of the fair came to her. She had glimpsed a meanness in Avery’s eyes then. She had seen it again this morning.
She put the disturbing thoughts from her mind. So far, he had been kind and thoughtful towards her. Perhaps Tommy had exaggerated. Avery couldn’t be that much of a tyrant. She knew he could be gentle.
Somehow she must put the past behind her and learn to fill her days -or she would go insane with boredom.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
In the evenings she supped with Avery. He was gracious and kind, wishing to make her comfortable. He continued to buy her expensive gifts and had kept his promise to Timothy by providing him with a new farmhouse, but Dera sensed a difference in him, a difference which hadn’t been there previously.
No matter what the time of day, she caught the unmistakable smell of liquor on his breath. At meals he always took a single glass of wine, but immediately after eating he withdrew to his library. It was at these times she felt the loneliest, and for the rest of the evening, she contented herself with her embroidery. A few times she knocked on the library door wishing a book to read before retiring, but he would never answer. Once, she gathered the courage to enter unannounced and found Avery snoring soundly in his chair, an empty whiskey bottle resting on his lap.
After the snow melted, Dera eagerly took Darcie for gallops across the meadows. The little mare gave her great joy and a means of filling the hours.
On a crisp, clear morning, Dera joined Avery in the dining room. Her riding habit, a sapphire velvet trimmed in black satin, fit her snugly and showed her curves off to perfection. The matching hat with black plume sat jauntily upon her head. Avery laid down his fork and smiled at her. “How lovely you are, Dera. You put the sun to shame.”
“The morning is beautiful for riding, Ave
ry. Please accompany me.”
“Not today, my dear. My gout pains me.���
She nodded, but she realized more than gout was involved. After close inspection, she saw that Avery was suffering from a night of heavy drinking. His eyes were red streaked, his face haggard, and his hand shook as he reached for a piece of bread.
“Where do you ride today?” he asked her, buttering his bread.
“I plan to explore the forest. Cook has packed me a small lunch. I should be gone until after midday.”
You’ve been riding around the estate quite a bit the last few days. Do you converse with the farmers … the men?” He frowned.
“I bid them good day. Many of them I know.”
Her answer didn’t satisfy him. ���It���s obvious that you prefer the company of peasants to mine since you’d rather spend your time riding around the countryside on that horse.”
���That isn’t true. Ask me to keep you company and I shall. Darcie provides me with amusement, but you’re my husband.”
He leaned forward, his pale cheeks brightened with color. “I am your husband, Dera. Remember that when you���re conversing with my tenants. I���d prefer you leave them to their chores while you tend to my wishes. We have an agreement.���
She held tightly to her riding crop. He suspected her of unfaithfulness. Somehow she must convince him she hadn’t gone back on her word. “The agreement hasn’t been broken. I’ve done nothing to be ashamed of,” she said.
Her earnestness caught him off guard. Since his conversation with Cecelia, her cruel words haunted his thoughts. He must put his suspicions to rest. Truly, Dera was innocent.
���Forgive me. I should have known better than to accuse you. Now be on your way and be careful.��� He said nothing else to her, dismissing her with his silence.
She left shaken because he believed she had given her word only to break it. Her situation as Avery���s wife was beginning to take its toll upon her. Other women in her position would have readily welcomed a marriage to a wealthy, impotent man and not have any qualms about being unfaithful. Dera admitted to herself that she missed the kisses, the embraces of a man and more importantly, she craved the sexual satisfaction a man could give her. Her promise to remain faithful to Avery had been extracted from her while she was still bruised from Quint���s betrayal. Still, she wasn���t the sort of person to break a promise easily.
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