Emerald Desire (Emerald Trilogy)

by Lynette Vinet

  “Don’t be taken in by him, Rosette. He’s a trifler.” Even to Dera, her words sounded petty and jealous; she was sorry for saying them.

  Rosette lifted an eyebrow and sniffed, “You know nothing about him. I think he’s very attractive and I believe he likes me.”

  Dera made no reply, her eyes were riveted on the doorway that Dominick would walk through momentarily. But it wasn’t her husband she searched for, it was Quint. She felt ashamed.

  Within minutes, Dominick was released, looking unharmed by the experience. He encircled Dera and Rosette in his arms. “I’m free to go, but I don’t understand why Colonel Flanders ordered my release.” He looked at Quint and his eyes hardened. “I shall never accept the Spanish, sir. Perhaps I should remain here.”

  “Dominick!” Rosette was horrified that her brother would say such a thing. “The colonel has been most kind.”

  “My friends have been condemned to death. I cannot feel anything but hatred.”

  “Monsieur, return home with your family. Our business is finished.” Quint stood firm in his decision, determined to set Dominick free despite his patriotic prattle. A part of himself respected Dominick Saucier for the stand he had taken, but another part detested him for the way he possessively held Dera around the waist.

  “Dominick, please let’s go home.” Dera touched his cheek and he softened.

  He took his sister’s hand and guided the two women from the barracks. Before stepping onto the street, Rosette looked back and smiled invitingly at Quint. He bowed, but the corners of his mouth refused to turn upwards.

  Quint returned to his office and watched from the window as the Saucier carriage departed. He was tired and lonely. After leaving Ireland, there had been plenty of women to share his bed, but the army offered him a different type of life from any he had ever known. It was in Madrid, during a riot, that he had saved O���Reilly���s life by taking a bullet meant for the older man. The wound was not life threatening and Quint recovered quickly. O���Reilly, who was military man in every sense of the word, was so impressed by this courageous act that he appointed Quint to the rank of colonel and put him in charge of his affairs.

  Despite the commendations and the women who threw themselves at him, Quint felt there was something missing. Until tonight he hadn’t realized what was wrong, but now he did: Dera was no longer a part of his existence.

  He thought he was over her, the past firmly behind him, but he had lied to himself. She was more than just a beautiful woman. She had meant the world to him, then she had destroyed that world. Clearly she was devoted to her husband, and it hurt him to think she was in love with any man, but Dominick Saucier was no Avery Fairfax and most certainly not impotent. They had a son. He hated the way she had looked with love at Saucier and not given him a backward glance on the way out.

  Damn! He banged his hand upon the desk in anger. He must forget her, but he couldn’t. Somehow, someway, she would pay for destroying his love.

  CHAPTER THIRTY TWO

  A stillness hung over the Place d’Armes, broken only by the low murmurs of the crowd. People pressed into the open square in front of the church, waiting for the condemned prisoners to make their appearance. Under French rule, the square was used for military ceremonies; only recently it had been the scene for the exchange of power from French to Spanish hands. Now, it was to be used for a public execution.

  Dera waited beside Dominick. Since his release the previous night he had been silent. She had wakened to find him sitting dejectedly in the garden and sat beside him. “How can I help you?” she asked.

  He barely glanced at her but looked straight ahead. “No one can help; not even God, can help my friends.”

  “Don’t lose hope. Perhaps General O’Reilly will change his mind.”

  “Dera, you know how stubborn the Irish can be. Have you ever known an Irishman to change his mind?”

  In the moonlight her face reddened, and she turned away as her thoughts strayed to Quint. “Let me do something to help you.”

  “I know you mean well, but, please, let me alone.”

  In silence she made her way into the bedroom and slept for the rest of the night by herself. Towards dawn, he had returned, but made no effort to slip beneath the sheets beside her. Instead he had dressed and left, not able to unburden himself of the horrible ache in his soul.

  Now, as Dera waited in the warm fall sun with her hand in his, she sensed that Dominick would never again be the same.

  At three o’clock, a wrinkled old man, wearing rust colored robes, walked out of the barracks and was followed by the five condemned men. First, came Nicholas Chauvin de Lafreniere, the former Attorney General of Louisiana and the ring leader of the group. His eyes showed little expression, but a half grin touched his mouth. He and three of the others blinked in the glaring sunlight. Last appeared Jean Baptiste Noyan, looking younger and more vulnerable than Dera remembered. She experienced a wave of compassion for the young man who was barely older than Dominic. She remembered the pleasant evenings when he had joined them for supper and they had been entertained by his wit and intelligence. She didn’t know how his family could stand by so quietly as he took his place before the firing squad.

  Dominick squeezed her hand tightly. “We played together as children. I can’t bear this abomination.”

  Dera’s eyes skirted the crowd, and she saw Quint leaving the barracks with the general. O’Reilly took his position with other public officials; Quint stopped near the soldiers with loaded muskets. He nodded to the old man in the robe who moved forward and shouted in a surprisingly loud voice: “His Excellency Don Alexander O’Reilly has decreed Jean Baptiste Noyan be spared execution because of his youth!”

  Stunned silence was broken by the sobs of weeping women in the Noyan family and mutterings among the crowd.

  “No!” Dominick breathed fiercely as Dera regarded him in bafflement.

  Jean Baptiste lifted his handsome head high and in a loud voice, he cried, “I fought with my comrades. I will die with them!” Cheers rang through the Place d’ Armes at the patriotic display.

  ���I knew he wouldn’t give in to them,” Dominick said with pride. His gaze settled on Quint who stood a few feet away from him and Dera. “Why is O’Reilly not with the firing squad?” he asked in a loud voice so Quint could hear. “The man is surely a coward to allow his lackey to do all the dirty work for him.”

  Quint looked behind him and saw Dera with her husband. He remained silent and refused to be baited by Dominick.

  Dera watched as blindfolds were offered the condemned men. Each one refused and waited for the inevitable. A sickening sensation clawed at Dera’s stomach when Quint raised his hand. Quickly he dropped it; the roar of the muskets deafened her. All five men fell to the ground with gaping wounds in their chests. “Dear God,” she breathed aloud and turned away in horror, not only from the bloody sight before her, but because Quint had signaled the command for the executions.

  “Swine!” Dominick muttered in a broken voice.

  After the initial horror subsided, the families moved forward to claim their dead, and the rest of the crowd dispersed. “Let’s go home,” Dera begged Dominick.

  He stared unseeing, not moving a muscle. Then a nerve twitched in his cheek. ���Not yet. I must offer my assistance to the Noyans.���

  ���Are you all right?���

  “Go home, Dera. I shall meet you there later.”

  “I’ll wait for you,” she said, but she didn’t think he had heard her. Withdrawing his hand from hers, he headed off in the direction of the Noyans who were transporting Jean Baptiste’s body to a waiting carriage.

  “‘Tis a mighty unpleasant business to have to carry out,” Quint said. Standing beside her; his hair ruffled in the hot breeze which blew from the river.

  ���Did you enjoy it?” she asked.

  He frowned. “If you believe that of me, then whatever I say won’t change your opinion. However, I h
ave some advice you can relay to your husband. Tell him to follow the wise course and take the oath, otherwise, his family will lose everything. O’Reilly has already confiscated the property and belongings of the five dead and some of the other rebels who were imprisoned. Also, those who had any part in the revolt, no matter how small, will be watched until he feels they are no longer a threat to the government. Your husband’s name is on his list.���

  “But I thought you could help Dominick.”

  “Aye, I did help him or you’d be carting him off to the cemetery this minute. I didn’t promise freedom from other reprisals.”

  “I should have learned long ago not to trust you,” she responded icily.

  He grimaced. “You’ll never understand me, Dera.”

  “I admit I can’t comprehend you. In Ireland you refused to take the oath, yet you advise Dominick to sacrifice his principles. What a hypocrite you are!”

  “And you’re a foolish woman. How long do you think your precious Dominick can survive on nothing? Do you believe his friends will come to his aid when all of this is over? Nay, they must look out for their own necks. Things are different here than in Ireland. He has a wife and family. I had no one.”

  She felt the last remark was meant to hurt her; and it did. He had been the loner and she had meant nothing to him except as someone with whom he trifled. Her love for him had been thrown in her face too many times. Why should he care what happened to them? She was unimportant to him, yet there was a ring of truth in his words. She must persuade Dominick to take the oath.

  So he wouldn’t see she understood the import of his words, she peered sweetly at him from under long lashes. “Thank you for your kind concern.” Then she turned and flounced away, but he caught her by the arm.

  “Don’t play the high and mighty lady with me, Dera. I can make things rough for you and your Dominick. Anyway, we have a bargain and I’ll be receiving payment for saving his life.���

  She trembled at his hard unyielding gaze; she knew he hadn���t forgotten what she owed him, but she eyed him with contempt and pulled away from his grasp. She continued down the street toward home, aware that he watched her.

  Entering the shop, Dera fanned herself with her hand. The room felt like an oven and perspiration dripped from her She opened a drawer and rummaged for a kerchief when she heard the tinkle of the bell, announcing the arrival of a customer.

  ���We’re closed today,” she said without glancing up.

  “I’m not here to purchase any goods.”

  The perspiration instantly evaporated from her body as a chill overtook her. She raised her eyes to see Jem McConnell, lounging across the counter from her. His lecherous grin brought back the sordid memories she had tried to bury in the depths of her mind.

  “What are you doing here?” she asked through pale lips.

  He regarded her with an insolent but pleased expression. “I’m a soldier for the Spanish.” He moved backward so she could see his uniform, devoid of decoration. “I joined with Quint after his escape. The army is a noble calling.”

  The shock wore off and the loathing she possessed for him resurfaced. “Noble, is it? You haven���t a noble bone in your body, Jem McConnell. You joined for the money only.”

  “And what is wrong with that, my lady? You married for it.”

  “Get away. You sicken me.”

  He laughed, seeing that he had gotten a response from her. Leaning forward, he seized her hand. She tried to pull away, but his grip tightened. “Don’t take on so. When I saw you with your husband at the executions, I couldn’t believe t’was you, but I remembered him from his stay at Fairfax Manor. You wasted no time latching onto him. Does he couple with you on the floor, too?”

  Dera’s face flamed a bright red as he jerked her against the counter. “You were real nasty to me that night, and I’ve not forgotten how you treated me. But it will be a long time before I forget the feel of your flesh and the smell of your body. I long to do the deed again, pretty Dera. ‘Tis not over for us.”

  His face came nearer, his lips ready to devour hers. She was unbending and unable to break away. She knew that if his mouth touched hers, she would be sick. The tiny bell tinkled, and in an instant, she was released.

  Dominick walked in and saw an ashen-faced Dera and a crude looking soldier handling a piece of fabric on the counter top. “What’s going on here?” he asked suspiciously.

  Dera gave him a strained smile. “This gentleman wishes to purchase some material, but I told him we were closed today.”

  “Take my advice, sir. That yellow silk you’re fingering doesn���t become you.”

  Jem laughed. “T’was for a lady friend.”

  ���I see, but we���re closed today.���

  ���Then I���ll be bidding you and your wife a good day.” Jem walked towards the door but turned around and bowed to Dera. “I will be back to complete my business some other time,” he said.

  To hide her trembling hands, Dera picked up a bolt of fabric. The first traces of her fear vanished, and she felt like a coward, because Jem had always frightened her.

  “An unpleasant man and another Irishman,��� Dominick commented. He kissed the back of her head. “I’m weary and would like to rest.”

  She followed him to the bedroom. She sat on the bed beside him and stroked his forehead, but she wasn’t thinking about the executions or Dominick. She thought that life was strange. In a new country, things should have changed, but everything seemed the same. Again, Quint had reentered her life. She tried not to think about him, but that was impossible. Every nerve in her body knew he was nearby and every part of her responded. Never had she expected to see him again, and now Jem had shown up, too.

  Goose bumps rose on her flesh as she remembered Jem’s touch. He wanted something from her, something she wasn’t prepared to give, and she would rather die than submit to his animal lust ever again.

  Dominick stirred and raised his head from the pillow. “I won’t ever forget what happened this afternoon. I’ll remember forever the sorrow on the faces of the Noyans and the other families. I don’t understand why I was released.”

  “There was no cause to keep you, Dominick.”

  He faced her, a slight accusing look in his eyes. “O’Reilly signed the warrant for my arrest. I saw him do it. That Irish colonel was there and then you came. And I was released. Were you responsible for changing the colonel’s mind? Did you promise anything for my release?”

  “I told him you had a wife and a family who love you.”

  “That makes no sense, Dera. The others had families, and yet he thought nothing of giving the signal to fire.”

  She hesitated a moment, seeing he was disturbed. “Will you take the oath?” she asked at last.

  “No!”

  “But if you refuse to swear, we’ll lose everything. The shop, house, our belongings will be confiscated. You’ll be kept under constant watch by the general. You must do it for us and yourself.”

  ���From whom did you learn this information?” he asked.

  She glanced down, unable to meet his inquisitive stare. “The colonel suggested it would be the wise thing to do.���

  ���How caring of him. Do you wish me to do this, Dera? You know that if I pledge my loyalty to Spain, I���ll be abandoning my principles, and my friends will have died in vain.”

  ���You can’t fight the Spanish forever. The executions proved that O’Reilly will enforce the law at any cost. I don’t want to lose you.” Tears burned her eyes and she wearily leaned against him.

  Dominick felt her pain and felt guilty for putting her through such an ordeal when he knew he couldn’t possibly win any longer. He held her in his arms and looked into her face. “I don’t believe you have the right to ask this of me, Dera, but I haven’t the right to make you heed my opinions. For you, I’ll take the oath, but I’ll never forgive myself for doing something I don’t believe in. And I
shall never forgive you for asking me to do it.”

  Dominick let her go and stood up. He headed for the door.

  “Where are you going?” she asked.

  “To the one place where I feel like a man. If you need me I shall be at Vaudry’s Tavern, indulging in a game of cards.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY THREE

  The windows which lined the shaded gallery of Government House blazed with light. Dera had never been inside the elegant building. She dreaded attending General O’Reilly’s soiree, knowing that Dominick did also, for he was sullen and had little to say. A special messenger had brought the invitation a week past, but Dominick regarded it as more of a summons. Rosette, on the other hand, was excited. In her new lilac gown she was breathtakingly lovely. Why the girl should be so thrilled to attend a stuffy party for the General mystified Dera, but she had worked all week to choose just the right gown and hair style.

  After Henri stopped the carriage, and they alighted from it, they were ushered into the main reception room by Spanish soldiers.

  “I wish this mess was over,” Dominick muttered. “A lot of nonsense. O’Reilly is a bloody bastard and doesn’t care for any of us.”

  “Please make an effort, Dominick. I know it’s hard for you, but it’s more difficult for everyone else, especially the Noyans. If they can be here, so can you.”

  He caught sight of the Noyan family. “They’re here out of fear, just like everyone else,” he said. Suddenly he smiled down at her, his face made more handsome by the love shining in his eyes. “But you’re beautiful tonight. Sometimes I forget how lucky I am.” He appraised her in the amber colored satin gown which gave her skin a warm sheen and set her apart from every other woman in the room by the simplicity of its style. The dress was cut neither too high or too low in front because she didn’t want to draw attention to herself, however, her natural beauty made that impossible. “Every man in the room is watching you, Dera, but you’re mine. I only hope Colonel Flanders remembers that.”