Tides of Passion

by Sara Orwig

  She did as he asked and he slipped a ring on her finger. “Another gift from the count. Look at the size of that ruby, Lianna!”

  She looked down at a golden serpent entwined on her finger—the serpent’s eye consisted of a large ruby and its golden fangs were bared. “That is the Marcheno crest—the striking serpent. There are other gifts. I’ve had them sent to your room.”

  “Don’t do this to me, Papa. Please, don’t!” she pleaded.

  “You’re young. You will thank me eventually.”

  “I don’t want to marry a Spanish count! Why doesn’t he wed one of the Spanish women if he is such a good prospect?” Hot tears stung her eyes, and she wiped them away, attempting to maintain her dignity.

  Squire Melton shrugged, moving to his desk to be seated behind it. “Spanish courting customs are archaic, very formal, and too slow to allow a hasty courtship—far too slow for a man of the count’s years and a man who has been twice married. He doesn’t want to court the Spanish misses who are thrown at him, because it would be so long before they could wed. Also, I told him how lovely you are.”

  “You sold me!”

  “Lianna!” He thundered her name, slamming the desktop.

  “Please don’t make me marry him!” She sobbed uncontrollably.

  “I expect an apology,” he snapped.

  She raised her head, seeing his blurred image through her tears. “I apologize, and I beg you not to make me do this.”

  “You’ve had a shock. It will seem better as the days pass. He is a fine man.”

  “And you will sell our woolens to him,” she accused bitterly.

  “To his merchants,” her father answered with satisfaction. “The count speaks English, but he seemed relieved when I told him you spoke Spanish fluently. Your mother taught you Spanish, and Doria continued to speak it to you—one more thing in your favor. I told him I would send one maid to Spain with you, perhaps two. Doria will go.”

  “I beseech you—I don’t want to wed. I love Edwin. Only Edwin.”

  He scowled and his voice became louder. “Lianna, make no mistake. If you do something foolish, I’ll have Edwin Stafford sent to Newgate Prison. You have no say in the matter because you’re too young. I’m your guardian, and my word is law.”

  “Am I to have no say in the matter that will change my life forever?” she asked as she sobbed openly now, unable to stem the flow of tears.

  “I’ve heard enough. You don’t have the faintest idea what you want. You’re an innocent young lass shut away from the world. This is a marriage beyond my wildest hopes for you, and a year from now you will be glad. The man is handsome, rich as Croesus—”

  “I don’t care! I want someone who will love me! I don’t want to marry a forty-one-year-old Spanish nobleman! I want to wed an Englishman and be loved—”

  He tugged the bell-pull as she sobbed. When the door opened, he gave instructions to the impassive butler. “Summon Doria to take her mistress to bed.”

  As soon as the door had closed, he said, “Lianna, look at me.”

  She raised her tear-streaked face and wiped her eyes to see her father lean across his desk, frowning at her. “You will wed this man. Make no mistake. The plans are set, the arrangements are made, and I will send you to Spain next winter and you will do just as I wish. Do I make myself clear?”

  “Yes, Papa,” she said through stiff, swollen lips. She hurt all over and she fought the fresh wave of sobs that threatened.

  “You are not to be alone with Edwin Stafford again.”

  His pronouncement sounded like a death knell. It was the blow upon blows to her heart, and her lungs seemed to quit functioning. “No!” she cried. “Please, the last months before I leave, don’t deny me Edwin’s presence!” she pleaded, horrified that she might not be able to spend the last bit of time seeing him. “He’s the best friend I have!”

  “You’re not to ride with him. You’re not to be alone with him. I want that understood.”

  She put her head in her hands and sobbed, barely hearing a light rap at the door as Doria entered.

  “Miss Melton must be seen to bed, Doria.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “And stay with her. She’s distraught.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Lianna moved woodenly through the house and up the stairs. She wiped away tears, and long into the night she lay staring into the darkness, hoping within the coming months’ time she could persuade her father to change his mind.

  By midnight the servants knew of Squire Melton’s orders and Edwin Stafford snatched up a bottle of rum before flinging himself on a horse to ride across the meadow alone, the wind rushing through his hair. He finally returned, halting on the lane leading to the manor as he tipped the bottle and finished it. He stared at the darkened house, imagining Lianna was asleep in her bed, knowing she was now betrothed to a Spanish nobleman.

  “I wondered if you had ridden off to slit your throat.”

  Edwin spun in the saddle and looked at Byron seated astride a mare a few yards away.

  “I didn’t hear you approach.”

  “I’m surprised you can hear at all, your head’s so sloshed with rum.”

  “Go to the devil!”

  “Ahh, Edwin. I heard the news. She’s to be wed to a don.”

  “Damn! I hate them all!”

  “It was inevitable. Like the moon above, she’s beyond our reach and always has been. There are other lovely women, Edwin.”

  “Lovely—and poor. Look at this, Byron. The man who becomes her husband will possess every horse, every cow, the land, the house, the carriages—and someday his wealth, his damnable wealth!” Edwin felt as if he were on fire, and he shook his clenched fist at the darkened house.

  The moonlight gave his sandy hair a silvery sheen. Byron moved closer, frowning. “I say, I thought you’d be mourning the loss of Miss Melton. Do you love her or her possessions?”

  Edwin jerked the reins impatiently, causing his horse to prance in a circle. “If it were not for our lowly station in life, I could make her love me. I could make her want to wed me. All this would be mine!”

  “By damn, you love her wealth!” Byron’s long jaw dropped as he stared at Edwin.

  “She’s ripe for love. She’s innocent as a spring flower and starved for love, ready for the first man who treats her decently. If only…Dammit to hell!”

  Byron laughed. “I pitied you so! You don’t love her—you love what she owns! Little good it’ll do you either way.”

  “I feel so close to having it all, having her and what she owns, because she loves me. If she could just follow the dictates of her heart, she would be mine and I would be good to her.”

  Byron laughed again. “How I worried about your poor broken heart. You aren’t besotted with her lovely blue eyes, you are besotted with greed.”

  “I care for Lianna. After all, we’ve known each other all our lives. But I won’t grow up to live the life my father has!”

  Byron frowned again, his voice sobering. “Your father’s a good man.”

  “Yes, and an incredibly poor man. He works from dawn to dusk with no time for fun. He doesn’t know the meaning of the word. He’s never danced, and owns only simple, rough workclothes. He’s never been to London or off the soil of England. Not me, Byron. I intend to do better.”

  Byron wheeled his horse sharply. “Then you’d better get started. You’re eighteen years old now, and a man.”

  4

  Lianna slept poorly that night, and rose early to ride. Her fingers were cold and she needed Doria’s help in pulling on the green velvet riding habit. She dressed silently. And her maid’s features and graying curls gave her a stern look beneath her starched white cap.

  As soon as she was dressed, Lianna breakfasted and meandered about for an hour before the lessons with her tutor began. Her father was nowhere in sight and for once Lianna was relieved to avoid his presence.

  Feeling tears rise, she hurried to the stables, where she foun
d Midnight, instead of the new black gelding, saddled and ready. Byron stood near the horse’s head, stroking his neck.

  “’Morning, Miss Melton.”

  “Good morning, Byron. Where’s Edwin?”

  His hazel eyes narrowing, Byron glanced about furtively and whispered, “He left a message for you—he’s ridden ahead and you’re to join him.”

  “Thank you, Byron,” she said as he helped her to mount. Hooking her knee over the pommel, she adjusted her riding habit and held the reins firmly as she rode away from the stable.

  Gray clouds floated by overhead and the cold wind caused her to shiver. Glancing over her shoulder at the dark, latticed windowpanes of the house, Lianna wondered what her father was doing. She turned back, searching the woods ahead for some sign of Edwin.

  She followed the twisting path through the woods, across a meadow, and into a grove where oaks grew in abundance. She spotted a horse and urged hers forward. Edwin stood beside a stream. Dressed in leather breeches and a leather vest with his white shirt open at the throat, he looked like the most handsome man she had ever seen. When she approached she saw his eyes were as stormy as the clouds above.

  She reined the horse. “You know what’s to happen to me,” she said quietly, feeling worse than ever when she saw anger and pity in Edwin’s expression.

  With one swift movement he lifted her down and crushed her to him, loosening his hold only when she began to sob.

  “I don’t want to wed a Spaniard! I won’t live in Spain—I would die first!”

  “Don’t say such a thing, dammit!”

  She pressed her wet cheek against his leather vest, her tears dampening his white shirt while he stroked her head until she quieted.

  He tilted her chin up and lowered his lips to kiss her. Lianna closed her eyes, feeling the gentle pressure of his lips. Suddenly Edwin groaned and spun away from her, slamming his fist against his palm.

  “Damn! I shouldn’t be talking to you, let alone kissing you. Your father had a talk with mine last night.”

  She stared in disbelief at his broad shoulders as Edwin continued, a scowl on his face. “He summoned my father last night to tell him that you proclaimed your love for me.”

  “He didn’t!” Lianna gasped, her cheeks burning with embarrassment.

  “He also made it clear that I’m not to be alone with you if we want to continue our employment.”

  “Oh, Edwin, he ordered me not to ride or be alone with you!” She ran to him, holding his large, roughened hands tightly in her small ones. “I’m sorry I caused you trouble, but I had to tell him about us. I love you! I will not wed the Spaniard.”

  Edwin’s jaw worked angrily as he spewed forth the unpleasant truth. “Your father said you are not yet of age, and should we try to run away, he will have me put in prison. If you marry against his wishes, he’ll disinherit you. Do you realize what that means, Lianna—you won’t get a shilling!”

  “What difference does it make?!”

  “Those who throw away their wealth have never known poverty,” he snapped. He spun away from her, his rage defeating him, leaving weariness in its wake. “It would make a difference,” he explained, subdued. “Hard labor would wreak havoc upon your beauty.”

  “I would give it all up to forget this dreadful marriage. Papa has never loved me, Edwin. The horse was a gift from the Spaniard.”

  “I realize that, Lianna.”

  She looked into the eyes of the man she wanted to marry. “Edwin,” she whispered softly, longingly.

  “If he were to catch me with you now, I would lose my position.”

  The truth of his words took her breath away. She wanted so badly to touch Edwin, to reside in the haven of his strong arms.

  His burning anger was evident in his frustrated expression. “I should ride away from here right now.”

  “But I love you, Edwin,” she said, feeling the tension between them. He moved toward her, closing the distance between them, and her heart began to pound loudly in her ears as he reached for her.

  “Lianna, I can’t turn my back on you! The thought of you marrying that Spaniard makes me feel as if someone is thrusting a dagger through me!” His arms slipped around her, pulling her closer.

  She swayed toward him, wanting his lips to touch hers more than she had ever wanted anything in her life. Suddenly a crackling of sticks and brush caused them to spring apart, Lianna’s blood running cold with fear until she saw Byron ride into view.

  “Edwin, your father follows close behind me. He searches for you both to make sure you’re not together,” Byron said.

  “Wait here, Lianna. Byron and I will ride away.” Edwin leaned closer to her. “We’ll talk again. Tomorrow morning?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  As they entered the stable Edwin jumped off his horse and began to remove the saddle. “I’ll have this all put away before Father returns. I don’t know how to thank you for the warning.”

  “You had best take care,” said Byron. “Lianna looks as pale as a ghost today. What a jolt for her to learn that she’s to go to Spain. It is said that her intended is forty-one years old!”

  “Dammit to hell, do you have to mention it with every breath!”

  “Sorry. Didn’t think you’d be quite so put out.”

  “I’m sorry, Byron. It’s just that it eats my nerves raw to think of what lies ahead for Lianna. I’d take a chance and elope if I thought her father wouldn’t actually disinherit her.”

  Byron stopped grooming the horse, placing his hands on his hips and shaking his head. “You disgust me—you’re just like the squire! All you can think about is his damned gold!”

  “A fine life we’d have if she’s disinherited. But if he would soften…”

  “Soften? His heart is made of iron. If hell threatened, he wouldn’t change his mind.”

  “You’re probably right, though I’m sorely tempted.”

  Byron grinned. “With her falling into your arms when you snap your fingers, I would suspect temptation! But you had better cool your ardor elsewhere or they’ll have you in Newgate. If you deflower her, you’ll ruin the marriage offer, and the squire will surely have your neck.”

  “I still wonder if he wouldn’t change his mind,” Edwin thought aloud. “I would consider waiting a year or two.”

  “You would have to wait an eternity, meanwhile he would hunt you down and have you imprisoned. She’s too young for your plans.”

  “You’re right,” Edwin sighed, rubbing the back of his neck.

  “Why don’t you direct your attentions to the new maid, Quita Bencaria. Her eyes are already following you.”

  “She’s just a maid—as poor as I am.”

  Byron grinned and poked Edwin in the side. “I think she’s as innocent as her mistress.”

  Edwin laughed. “She won’t be for long—not if you can charm her into a tumble.”

  “She says she’s heard about this Spanish count. Supposedly he’s as rich as Croesus—and handsome, as well.”

  “Shut your damned mouth about the man!”

  “Here comes your father.”

  Edwin picked up a pail of water and headed inside the stable.

  The next morning, to her dismay, Lianna found Squire Melton waiting to ride with her. Their lack of conversation convinced her that he was doing it to keep her separated from Edwin. Her lessons began to last longer in the day; the sewing and fittings started for her trousseau; and she began to feel a sense of panic as the days passed without seeing Edwin.

  A determination to be with him grew within her, and one evening after dinner when she and Quita were laying out her riding habit for the next morning, Lianna approached the new maid.

  “Where are you from, Quita?”

  “From?”

  “Your home.” Lianna changed to Spanish. “Where is your home?”

  “La Coruña.”

  “Were you happy to come to England?”

  Quita paused, her dark eyes momentarily meeting Lianna
’s gaze, and she shrugged. “I was not given a choice—my parents sent me.”

  “I don’t want to go to Spain. Did you know I’m to go to Madrid to be married?”

  “Sí, to the count of Marcheno. What a grand match.”

  “To me it’s ghastly! I don’t love him and don’t want to wed him. I already love someone here in England.”

  Quita’s brows arched. “I am sorry to hear that,” she said with genuine sadness in her voice. “It is terrible to love sometimes.”

  Lianna looked up abruptly. “You loved someone in Spain,” she said softly, perceiving Quita differently.

  “Yes,” Quita whispered, her brow furrowing. She carefully smoothed the green velvet coat, giving it all her attention.

  “Did your parents send you to England to separate you from the man you love?”

  Quita shook her head. “No. He married someone else because the families arranged it. My family is poor, and her family was able to give his father a generous dowry.”

  “Quita, I’m so sorry. I understand, since I must leave the man I love as well because of money.” Lianna felt drawn to Quita. “Tell me about the man you loved.”

  Quita gazed into space, beyond Lianna. “I no longer think of him. He is gone from my life,” she said practically, shocking Lianna, who felt she would never, even for a day, fail to dream of Edwin.

  “I’m so sorry. Do you ever miss your family?”

  “No, I don’t miss them, because I know they wanted to send me away. There were so many of us, to feed. None of this would have happened if we had been wealthy. I would have had a different kind of life with Juan.” She looked around the room. “This is what I want. I don’t want to go back to Spain when you wed the Count of Marcheno.”

  “My father plans to send you back with me?” Lianna asked in surprise. She hadn’t asked her father about any of the arrangements, since she didn’t want to think about what lay ahead.