Silver Moon

by Barrie, Monica

  Elyse gazed directly into Ann’s eyes. “You’d be surprised.”

  I just might, Ann thought as the power of Elyse’s words struck her. Before she could respond, the sound of a horse and carriage filled the air. Both women turned as the carriage drew to a halt in the center of Devonairre’s drive and a liveried servant stepped down.

  “I’ll see who it is,” Ann said. Elyse stayed where she was and watched Ann, while her mind ranged onward, covering a thousand things, all of them to do with Brace.

  What she had learned from Ann made her hopes soar. Brace does love me! That little voice within her mind had been right. How do I make him see me for what I am? How do I make him admit his love?

  As Elyse pondered these new questions and fought the dangerously buoyant feeling lifting her spirits toward the sky, she saw Ann accept an envelope from the servant. They spoke for a moment, and then Ann started toward her while the servant stood by the carriage.

  “A note for you,” Ann said, handing Elyse the envelope.

  Opening it, Elyse withdrew a neatly folded piece of paper and read aloud the boldly lettered note.

  “To Lady Elyse Louden of Devonairre,” she began, “I would consider it a singular honor if I would be allowed to call upon you tomorrow afternoon, so that I may introduce myself and welcome you home. Sincerely, Thomas Barrett, Esquire. Greenwood. Please send word back with my servant if tomorrow is indeed convenient.”

  “Welcome to Jamaican society,” Ann said dryly.

  Elyse stared at Ann, then at the letter. An idea formed in her mind; at first, she thrust it aside, but it would not leave. “Ann,” she said a moment later, her eyes gazing into the other woman’s, “tell me about this Thomas Barrett.”

  “His ancestors came here with the original English army. The Moulton Barrett family has always maintained a plantation and residence here. Thomas is the nephew of Edward Moulton Barrett, and is the only Barrett in residence right now. He’s typical of most of the planters. He was educated in England, and acts like a lord here.

  “His cousin Elizabeth—her father was Edward—was here for a short time last year. She seemed to be very nice, but she appeared distant, as if her mind was always on other things. She writes poetry, I believe, but I’ve never read any of it.”

  “Would you say he epitomizes Jamaican society?” Elyse asked, her eyes veiled.

  Ann pondered not only the question, but also the way in which Elyse asked it before nodding her head.

  “Good. Please tell Mister Barrett’s servant I will be delighted to receive him tomorrow for high tea.”

  “Elyse ...” Ann began, but stopped herself.

  “And would you do one more thing for me?”

  Again, Ann slowly nodded her head.

  “Make sure that Brace knows nothing of tomorrow’s visit. But find some way to have him come to the house during tea.”

  It took Ann a moment, but finally she understood what Elyse was attempting to do.

  “That could be a dangerous ploy,” she cautioned. “It could chase him farther away.”

  Elyse sighed, smiling sadly. “How much farther can it be than the distance he has already put between us? It’s a chance I must take. Will you help me?”

  For the third time, Ann nodded her head.

  Elyse watched Ann go to the carriage and speak with the servant, and found herself wondering if what she had planned would somehow cause her more pain. No! I will make it work!

  Chapter Fifteen

  Thomas Barrett arrived at exactly three o’clock. He was greeted by one of the servants and shown into the salon where Elyse waited, wearing one of the more formal dresses Cory made for her.

  She studied him as he walked toward her. He was thin, of average height, with dark hair and eyes, and a pleasant, if not overly handsome face. His bearing was that of a man trained from birth to be master of his lands. When he spoke, his voice was gentle and his tone relaxed.

  He took her hand and raised it to his lips, brushing its back courteously before releasing it. He smiled and accepted the seat Elyse indicated.

  At first, they spoke of England, for Thomas Barrett, as with most of the island’s ruling class, tried to learn whatever news there was of home. When he realized she did not carry with her the trendy gossip of London parlors, he changed the subject.

  Elyse replied to all of his questions by either talking of what she knew, or by relating the same stories and news she’d heard her aunt speak of in the days prior to her escape from Devon.

  Throughout the first half hour of their tea, Elyse’s nerves grew taut. Every noise elicited a different reaction from her; each footstep, each door that opened and closed made her catch her breath. Not yet, she would say to herself, breathing a sigh of relief when Brace did not appear.

  When tea was served, Elyse stopped wondering what would happen and concentrated on the man across from her. There was much to learn about the island, and Thomas Barrett could be a great help. Although she was tense, she maintained a calm facade, and soon found Thomas to be a charming guest. In fact, she had started to doubt Ann’s description of Jamaican society until Thomas finished a small sweet and drained his teacup. When he smiled at her, Elyse saw a flicker in his eyes, then she saw them change. Something predatory flashed within them.

  “Have you kept those debtors on?” he asked.

  “Debtors?” Elyse asked innocently.

  “The Denhams. Now that you’ve returned, I’m sure you’ll want to hire a proper overseer. I would be happy to lend you my assistance and experience.”

  “The Denhams are no longer debtors, and I believe they are doing an excellent job.”

  “Surely you know that young Denham now owns some land in the mountains. Can you be certain he isn’t using Devonairre’s property to make his own fortune?”

  “Can you be sure he is?” she asked, her voice growing cold.

  “You should have your accounts gone over by someone you trust,” he said, ignoring her question. “Relying on the lower classes can be a terrible mistake; I know from experience.”

  “I’ll take your advice under consideration.” She held her anger behind a cool exterior. “I understand your cousin Elizabeth left only recently,” she added, trying her best to change the subject before losing her temper.

  “Yes, she’s a dear, but she tends to the arts, fancies herself a poet. She should have married; that would have helped settle her down.”

  “Perhaps she’s not ready for marriage, yet.”

  “Actually, I think she may never marry. She is over thirty, you know.”

  “No, I didn’t, but that shouldn’t matter.” From that point, the rest of the afternoon dragged on interminably; more than once, Elyse came to regret her spurious plan to invite Barrett for tea in order to make Brace jealous. No one could be jealous of this man; he offered nothing at all. Yet, as Thomas Barrett talked about Jamaica, his plantation, and himself, she gained a great deal of valuable insight about the island.

  When the clock struck five, Elyse felt like screaming. Brace had not come; her planning had been in vain.

  Thomas stood, a smile on his lips. “I must thank you for a wonderful afternoon. And, Lady Louden, I ask for permission to call on you again in the near future. I… ” He paused then, and Elyse sensed what was coming. She had to stop herself from cringing at the thought of this man courting her. “I find you a charming, lovely woman, and would consider spending time in your company an honor.”

  “Thank you,” Elyse said demurely and noncommittally, playing her role to the hilt as she stepped toward him and placed her hand lightly on his arm. “Allow me to see you out.”

  They walked out onto the veranda together, and when they reached the top step, Thomas turned and took her hand in his. Just then, from the corner of her eye, not twenty feet away, she saw Ann walking with Brace. Her courage wavered, her mouth growing suddenly dry. Brace stiffened, and she saw the hard glare with which he favored both Thomas and her.

  With her nerves
jangling from fear and excitement, she forced herself to ignore Brace and concentrate on Thomas. The time had come for Elyse to play her game fully. Do it, she had commanded herself as the Esquire of Greenwood lifted her hand and brought it to his lips. His eyes locked on Elyse’s, and she forced hers to remain fixed upon him, not Brace.

  “If you need any help at all, please send for me.”

  “You’re very kind, and I shall call upon you for help,” she said in a voice just loud enough to reach Brace and Ann. “Thank you for your company and your advice.” She managed to put more warmth into her reply than his offer had required; her smile was bold and bright.

  “I will return soon,” he promised.

  “I’m looking forward to that day,” she lied. For a while, she felt unable to stop her eyes from darting toward Brace and Ann. When she finally looked their way, a dizzying wave struck her. Brace was gone, leaving Ann standing alone. Before Barrett’s carriage disappeared, Elyse turned to Ann, whose eyes were tinged with sadness. “Brace?”

  Ann shook her head. “When he saw Barrett fawning over your hand, he stalked away. He… I have never seen him so angry.”

  She knew she had made a mistake in trying to force Brace’s hand and make him see how his stubbornness and pride were destroying the possibilities that were open to them. She wanted Brace to be jealous, hoping his anger would cause a confrontation so she could make him understand how she felt; but it hadn’t.

  Elyse realized, belatedly, her actions seemed to do the opposite.

  It doesn’t matter. I did what I had to.

  *****

  Elyse reined in Thistle when she reached the crest of the hill. She’d been riding for an hour, enjoying the feel of the powerful mare and the gentle beauty of the rolling hills behind the main house. She had also used this ride to clear her mind of yesterday’s happening.

  With those thoughts, Elyse turned Thistle toward the main house. She stopped again when she saw a rider approaching the hilltop cemetery where her parents were buried.

  When the rider dismounted, she saw that it was Brace. Without thinking about what she was doing, she angled Thistle toward the cemetery. Dismounting at the bottom of the hill, she tied the mare next to Brace’s gelding and started up the carved steps. Before she had reached the top, a sixth sense made her pause and look back at Brace’s horse. It was then she realized that there were two bags tied to the saddle.

  He’s leaving. Turning again, her mind dazed, her heart pumping furiously, she went to the top of the hill. Stopping at the wrought iron gate, she took in the scene before her.

  Brace was standing, his head bowed before her parents’ graves. A small bouquet of flowers rested upon the earth in front of each headstone. He was as unmoving as a statue, and Elyse could not bring herself to disturb him.

  *****

  Brace gazed at the earth before the graves, trying to give vent to his thoughts. Last night, he’d had an intense argument with his parents and told them he was leaving, that he could no longer stay at Devonairre. He had refused to listen to anything they tried to say, until the reluctant acceptance of his wishes showed on their features.

  Seeing Elyse with Thomas Barrett had been the final act that finally drilled home the truth of his situation. Elyse was one of them, and his remaining at Devonairre would only make things harder for her.

  Throughout the night, he’d thought about all the things he’d done with his life, and all that he still wanted to do. While he packed the few personal items he had, he did his best not to think of Elyse and of what their future might have been if he had been born of the upper class.

  When the sun rose, he rode for hours through the fields of Devonairre for the last time. He then came to the cemetery to say his final good-bye to Harlan and Katherine.

  As he gazed at the graves, a lifetime of memories washed over him. The good and the bad assaulted him, but with a strange clarity of thought, he realized the good memories far outweighed the bad. He understood, too, that he didn’t blame Harlan Louden for anything that had happened to him, and hoped that he would eventually be worthy of the trust Harlan had shown in him. He knew, too, that part of the reason for his leaving Devonairre, and Elyse, was so he would not violate the trust of his benefactor.

  Without warning, a wave of grief washed over him; it was a combination of many things: his desire for Elyse, his pain at leaving the home and land on which he had been born, and the true depth of his love for Harlan Louden, who had done so much for him and his family. His eyes misted as he thought of the man who had died ten years ago, and he let the memories of the kind-hearted man fill him. When the grief and pain had subsided, he turned from the graves.

  With his mind on a thousand things, Brace began to walk away. He took a few steps before realizing he wasn’t alone.

  Elyse. With recognition came a flood of emotions that held his body in thrall. The sun was off to the side, gracing her with a soft cast. Her black hair shimmered, and her magnificent features fairly glowed. Taking a deep breath, Brace filled his mind with this vision before starting toward her again.

  Elyse had been standing quietly, waiting for him to turn and see her. When he did, and she saw his face, her breath caught in her throat. His sun-bronzed cheeks were tear-streaked and for the first time she understood just how profoundly Brace had loved her father.

  When he neared her, she saw his eyes graze across her face, and their blue depths deepen. When he reached the spot where she was standing, they stared at each other until Elyse broke the silence. “You loved him very much.”

  Brace’s eyes roamed her face, taking in every line, every plane, so that it would be etched forever in his memory. “Other than my father,” he said in a husky voice filled with unfeigned emotion, “no other man has ever commanded my respect.”

  “You’re leaving, aren’t you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Or are you running away?”

  “From what?”

  “Us.”

  Brace took a deep breath. “Did you find Barrett an amusing fellow?”

  “I found him a bore,” she replied honestly.

  “Yet you seemed to enjoy his attentions yesterday.”

  “It was a social obligation.”

  “Of course.”

  Elyse’s heart thumped in her chest. He is jealous! “Why, Brace?”

  Refusing to admit that he understood her question, Brace responded with his own. “Why what?”

  “Why are we torturing ourselves? Why are you trying to make me hate you? Why are you so damned stubborn that you won’t admit the truth even to yourself?” As she spoke, her voice grew loud, until she realized she was shouting. Yet, the harshness of her voice made no difference to her, nor did the emotions that filled her eyes with tears.

  Brace withstood the onslaught of her heated words, keeping his features immobile, fighting with his heart and mind not to hear what she was saying. In the end, it was her misty eyes and the sadness of her mouth that broke down the barriers he’d been fighting hard to maintain.

  “Because of who I am; because of who you are.”

  “Do you think such matters to me? It didn’t matter to you when we were children!” She thrusted her challenge boldly at him, and while she waited for an answer, her heart continued to beat with a pulsating rhythm.

  “We were children then,” he said in a soft voice that denied the turmoil so rife within his thoughts. Brace’s hands balled into tight fists that pressed against his outer thighs as he continued to battle his emotions. He wanted to take her in his arms, hold her to him, but he knew he could not. “It’s a different world when you’re five.”

  “Not for me! Not ever for me!” she stated. “I love you, Brace.” The moment the words were out, Elyse fell silent. She had spoken only the truth; she had once again offered him her entire being. She stood mute, awaiting whatever he might do. Sadness washed across her, yet she found the strength to chase it away, knowing that whatever might happen, she had done her best, fought her
strongest to show him how she felt.

  “You can’t love me,” Brace said at last, his voice a dull monotone.

  “I can damn well love whomever I choose.”

  “But I can’t,” Brace told her. “Elyse, you are Lady Louden, you are highborn. I am the lowborn son of a debtor.”

  “I don’t care.”

  “Not now, but you will.”

  “Like hell I will!” I am my own person, and I don’t give a damn what anyone else has to say about me.”

  “It’s a small island, Elyse, much smaller than you think. It can be a very long, very hard life when you must live outside of the society you were once a part of.” Brace knew he was hurting her, and saw the pain flash across her face. He felt it too, but refused to yield to it. He knew he had no choice. There were obligations still to be paid, and duties yet to be performed. “I will not allow you to be hurt, to be shunned because of my desires.”

  Elyse shook her head angrily, denying his words even as he spoke them. “Perhaps it is you who does not want to be shunned. Perhaps it is you who are afraid to admit your feelings.”

  “I’ve been shunned all my life. People of your class look straight through me as if I don’t exist. I know what it is like to be an outcast, and it’s not a good feeling.”

  “But you’ve survived. Is it pride that makes you act this way?”

  Brace shook his head slowly. “I wish it were that simple, Elyse. Pride can be overcome.”

  Hearing the change in his voice, and seeing the softening of his eyes, she raised her arm toward him, her hand outstretched, almost, but not quite, touching him.

  “I…I fell in love with you on the first day I arrived home; each passing day showed me you love me, too. No!” she commanded as he tried to cut in. “Please, let me finish. I don’t know how I know these things, but I do. I’ve done everything in my power to show you how I feel, but you can’t see past your own selfish fears.” Slowly, Elyse dropped her arm and tried to blink away the sadness filling her eyes.

  “Selfish? Damn it, Elyse, do you want a life of hiding behind a façade…of people whispering about you when you go by? Do you want to love a man only behind closed doors, where no others can see? Because that’s all I can offer you.”