The Flame and the Flower

by Kathleen E. Woodiwiss

  “Your escape is impossible, my love. I have a very possessive nature.”

  “Then bed me here if you must,” she hissed, hate giving virulence to her tongue. “But do it quickly, for the others wait.”

  His jaw tightened and his eyes grew cold. “No,” he said, taking her arm. “I shall take my pleasure of you slowly and at my leisure. Now come, for as you say, the others wait.”

  Outside the church, they were met by a shower of wheat. Sparse as the wedding party was, Lady Hampton would not let the simple custom go undone. Later they moved to the waiting carriage. Aunt Fanny was silent with the Yankee so near. Uncle John, hesitant and unsure of himself, helped Lady Hampton down the steps of the cathedral and her husband, Lord Hampton, hung back, watching Captain Birmingham assist his young bride.

  Uncle John handed his wife and Lady Hampton into the carriage and climbed in after them. As Heather drew near she found the three squeezed together on one side, Lady Hampton suffering greatly by being in the middle. The poor woman’s complaints went unuttered however, and permitting herself a small smile after all that she had been through, Heather lifted her skirts to climb up into the landau. She was greatly surprised when she found herself being slung up in her husband’s arms and placed aboard. Without thanking him for embarrassing her, she sank down on the vacant seat and gave him a withering glare which he could not see. He climbed in and threw his weight down beside her, and she was squeezed unmercifully when Lord Hampton got in also. To allow herself more room she tried to sit up on the edge of the seat, but she found herself unable to move because her husband was sitting on her skirt. She glanced up at him, but he was staring out the window and the muscles in the side of his face were tense with anger. An unintelligible, cowardly murmur escaped her lips as she pushed back against the seat again, fear catching at her heart. Their bodies were so close, his shoulder overlapped hers and the back of his arm rubbed against her breast. The full length of her thigh was pressed to the granite-hard muscles of his.

  As the chaise rolled along the cobbled streets, she made an awkward attempt to converse with Lord and Lady Hampton although they were just as tense as she. Her tone was almost inaudible when she spoke and cracked with nervousness. To save face she soon fell silent, afraid to trust her voice any longer.

  The ride seemed endless. They were jostled and bounced and Heather wondered frantically if any bone in her body would be left unbroken. Though Lord Hampton was not a big man, he was still larger than she and between her husband, whose tall broad-shouldered frame gave no inch, and his lordship’s, she, being much smaller than the two, endured much. The pressure of Brandon’s arm against her breast alone was sending her into a state of shock.

  Finally the carriage drew up before Hampshire Hall. Brandon descended first and with capable hands reached up, clasped her under the arms and swung her down beside him. She straightened her clothes with a jerk and flung her long train over her arm with an arrogant toss of her head. Inside the mansion she stopped to discard the heavy cape and, much to her displeasure, was helped by her husband who unfastened the gold chains from her shoulders. His long fingers worked with great dexterity.

  The wedding feast was already laid upon the table when they entered the dining room. Lord and Lady Hampton took their places at the ends of the table and motioned for Heather and Brandon to sit on one side, Uncle John and Aunt Fanny on the other. They lifted their glasses in toast to the young couple.

  “To a most happy and rewarding marriage despite what has here before taken place,” his lordship offered. Then he added as an afterthought, “And may the child be a fine boy.”

  A red glow spread over Heather’s features as she lifted her glass to her lips. But she did not drink. She would not hope for a boy and give this man more confidence in himself. She noticed, however, that he drank the champagne down quite easily, and she eyed him distastefully.

  The meal went too quickly for Heather’s peace of mind, though by the time they left the table it was past the hour of eleven. The men took their brandies into the drawing room as Lady Hampton propelled Aunt Fanny off to her sleeping quarters and drew Heather to the bedchamber prepared for her and the Yankee. Two giggly young maids were waiting for the young bride, and a night garment of transparent filmy blue cloth lay on the bed. Heather blanched white at the sight of it, but Lady Hampton led her to a bench in front of a huge mirror and pressed her down into it.

  “I shall return with some wine when you’re ready,” the woman murmured, kissing Heather’s brow. “Perhaps it will help.”

  As the maid drew her bridal gown from her and uncoiled her hair, Heather knew nothing would protect her from her fear. She would have to be unconscious before she would not quake with fright.

  “I might as well be a virgin,” she thought with some surprise, “as much as I tremble.”

  Brushed a hundred strokes, her hair was left loose and flowing, reaching down to her hips. Her clothes were taken away—not even a robe was left—and Heather, sitting on her heels in the middle of the bed and wearing only a gown of gossamer to veil her nakedness, tried to still her trembling body and calm herself for the ordeal that was to come.

  Outside the bedroom, footsteps clicked against the marble floors, but she breathed a sigh of relief. They belonged to a woman.

  Lady Hampton opened the door and came in, carrying a tray bearing a wine decanter and two glasses. She set it down upon a table beside the bed and poured Heather a glass as she inspected the work the girls had done. She nodded with approval.

  “You are even more beautiful now, my dear, than you were in your bridal gown, impossible though it may seem. You were a vision. I felt so proud. I just wish there would have been more time to invite guests. You needed to be shown off. I could have told them you were my own sweet. How I grieve that your mother died so soon and never knew you. She would have been proud of you.”

  “Proud of me?” Heather asked forlornly, looking down at her stomach. “I’ve brought disgrace to you all,” she said tearfully.

  Lady Hampton smiled at her gently. “Nonsense, my dear. Sometimes a girl cannot help the things that happen to her. She’s just a victim of circumstances.”

  “Or of Yankees,” Heather murmured.

  Her ladyship laughed softly. “Yes, or of Yankees, but at least he’s young and handsome and clean. When my husband first told me of your predicament and said a Yankee seaman was to blame, I was sick with worry. I thought he would be old and lecherous. Even your aunt confided that she expected the man to be so. It was probably a great disappointment to her that he was not, considering what you’ve suffered in her hands. But he’s so magnificent. Truly all your babies will be fine and beautiful and I suppose you’ll have many.”

  Lady Hampton’s voice dwindled off to barely a whisper as she remembered the passionate embrace Captain Birmingham had given his young bride and the rock hard expression that had been on his face afterward.

  “Yes,” Heather breathed silently. She swallowed hard and said aloud, “Yes, I suppose we’ll be having many.”

  She was thinking of the ease with which Brandon had planted his seed in her. She would no doubt be giving birth to many.

  Lady Hampton rose to go and Heather looked up pleadingly.

  “Must you go now?” she asked in a quavery voice.

  The woman nodded her head slowly. “Yes, my dear. We’ve held him at bay long enough. We cannot any longer. But if you should need us, we will be near.”

  The woman’s meaning was not lost upon Heather. She knew if she called out for assistance they would come, despite the fact that they had no right to interfere.

  Again she was alone and frightened. But after she had tasted bitterly her husband’s mockery, she was determined now not to cringe and cower from him.

  “Let him see that I am willing,” she thought cunningly. “He will not choose to hurt me then.”

  Her waiting came to an abrupt end, startling her when the sound of his footfalls came in the hall. Her face flamed
as she saw the door open, and then she found herself staring across the width of the room into his green eyes. His gaze lowered and a fire was kindled as he raked her body with his stare.

  Heather sat awkwardly, her heart beating wildly. The bedcovers had been drawn to the end of the bed out of her reach and she longed to pull them to her. The gown she wore was like a soft blue veil over her body, more alluring and revealing than bare flesh. It was tied with soft ribbons at the waist on each side, but from the waist up and the waist down it was slit with no further ornament to hold it together. As a result the sides of her breasts were exposed and the long, slender limbs were laid bare to his gaze. The hardest thing she ever had to do in her life was to sit calmly before him and let him look at her as he was doing.

  “You’re very beautiful, my love,” he said hoarsely, coming forward to the bed. His eyes were like flames of fire, scorching her. He reached out and pulled her to her knees. “You’re even more lovely than I remembered.”

  Still on her knees, she came reluctantly to him as he drew her into his embrace. His hands slid carelessly under her gown and over her buttocks as he bent his head slowly to her, and trembling, Heather waited for his kiss. But before his lips pressed upon hers, he drew away the slightest degree and laughed softly in his mocking way.

  “You are more willing now, my love, than you were before. Does marriage make it so different? Was that the price you were selling your body for? And here I thought at last was a woman pure in heart who would willingly give her body to no man for a price, only for love.”

  “Oh, you horrible wretch!” she cried angrily, trying to snatch free. “What do I have to say in the matter? You will rape me as you did before, whether I struggle or not.”

  “Be quiet,” he said quickly, jerking her closer and forcing her to be still. “Do you want the others to hear and break down the door? Lord Hampton is just waiting for the invitation.”

  “What do you care?” she taunted viciously. “You are stronger than he. What will it matter if you have to throw him out before you finish your business with me?”

  A muscle twitched in Brandon’s cheek and already Heather knew that slight movement meant danger. He glared down at her, his green eyes fierce and frigid.

  “I wouldn’t assert my husbandly rights upon you tonight if you were the last woman in the world,” he sneered.

  Heather stopped struggling immediately and raised her eyes to his in surprise, wondering if she had heard him correctly. His eyelids lowered and his jeering grin reappeared, showing startling white teeth against the darkness of his skin and beard.

  “You heard right, my dear. I have no intention of making love to you in this house tonight.” He ignored the expression of relief on her face and went on. “When I take my pleasure of you, my love, it will be in my own way, in my own house or on my own ship, and not where another man is waiting anxiously to barge in and pull us apart, and certainly not when that man is holding an axe over my head.”

  “An axe?” she repeated innocently, relaxing against him.

  “Don’t tell me you don’t know. Surely you knew of their plan. I cannot believe you were not in with them.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said cautiously.

  He laughed bitterly. “Always innocent, aren’t you, sweet?” His eyes dropped to her bosom and he ran his fingers over the side of her breast where the filmy gown left it bare. His thumb brushed her nipple underneath. “Always innocent,” he said softly. “Always beautiful. Always cold.”

  She allowed his hands to caress her. They were gentle and as long as nothing would follow and he was her husband, she would not take the chance to stir his anger by refusing him this much. But she persisted with her questioning. She wanted to know what axe they had used.

  “How did they make you marry me?” she inquired softly.

  His lips touched her hair and moved to her throat and Heather shivered involuntarily at their burning intensity. His hand stroked her breast still and seemed not to want to stop. Nervously she pulled away, fearing he would not keep his word. She reached and drew the bedcovers over her and sank down again in the middle of the bed.

  “Are you going to tell me?” she whispered, staring at him.

  His mood was again mocking, cruel, angry. “Why should I? You’ve heard it all before. But if it matters so much to hear it from my lips I shall tell you. Your dear lordship was going to convict me of smuggling and selling arms to the French, despite the fact I’m lily white. I would have been sent to prison, my ship taken from me, and God only knows what would have happened to my plantation back home. Very crafty of your friend, I must say.”

  He yanked off his coat and threw it into a chair and began untying his stock.

  “Do you know I am—or shall I say, I was engaged to be married when I returned home? What am I supposed to tell her—my fiancée? That I saw you and couldn’t help myself?”

  He paused a moment, pulling his shirt from his brown shoulders. He gazed at her angrily.

  “I don’t like being forced, my dear. It goes against my grain. If you had come to me when you first learned of your pregnancy, I would have helped you. I may have even married you if you had acted as if you desired marriage with me, but to send your mighty friend and threaten me, it was a most unwise thing for such a little girl to do.”

  Wide-eyed and fearful, Heather huddled under the sheet as if it would give her protection from his savage hands if he turned on her. He moved about the room, blowing out candles and she watched him cautiously. He had stripped to the waist and did not appear to have any thought of stopping there. But for the moment he settled down in a chair by the bed.

  “You know you’re very beautiful, don’t you?” he said, coldly appraising her. “You could have had any man of your choosing, and yet you had to have me. I would like to know the truth, if you don’t mind. Did you perhaps learn that I have wealth?”

  She looked at him strangely, seeing no need for him to ask. “I know nothing of your financial situation,” she replied softly. “You were just the man who—who took my virginity. I couldn’t go to another man, sullied as I was and with your child in me. I would have given birth to a bastard before stooping so low.”

  “Your honorable nature is to be applauded, madam,” he said in a light, bantering tone, and his scoffing burned her.

  “Why should you have been allowed to go merrily upon your way and not made to right the wrong you did?” she cried.

  He was beside her in an instant.

  “Please, my dear,” he said uneasily. “Refrain from raising your voice above a whisper or we’ll find ourselves with company. I have no desire to be thrown into prison by your Lord Hampton because he thinks I am mistreating you—especially since I’ve already made you my wife.”

  His anxiety pleased her, but she went on in a hushed whisper. “You say you dislike force. Well, I loathe it, but I could do nothing to stop you from taking your pleasure of me. Now you’re angry because you’ve had to pay the piper, yet you do not think of the child I carry—what it might have suffered, born a bastard.”

  “The child would have been well cared for and so would you have been.”

  She laughed ungraciously. “As your bastard and your mistress? No, thank you. I’d have slit my throat before consenting to that proposal.”

  The tic in his cheek returned and he stared at her for such a long time she sat transfixed like a bird before a snake, then lids lowered slightly over mocking eyes.

  “A woman who is kept by a man is usually better tended than his wife. I would have been kind and more than generous with you.”

  “Meaning you will not be now,” she said with sarcasm.

  “Exactly,” he answered smoothly, heartlessly terrifying her. He got up from the bed and stared down at her. “As I’ve said, I don’t like being blackmailed, and for you I’ve chosen a fitting punishment. You wanted security and a name for our child. You will have them, my dear—but you’ll not have one damned thing
more. You’ll be hardly better than a servant in my home. You’ll have the name you wanted, but you’ll have to beg and plead to have me grant your slightest wish. You won’t have any money nor will you lead a normal life, though I will be careful to save you the embarrassment of others knowing of your situation. In other words, my dear, the position you thought so honorable will be no more than your own special prison. You won’t even share with me the more tender moments of marriage. You’ll be just an-other servant in my eyes. As my mistress you would have been treated as a queen, but you will now know me as master and nothing more.”

  “You mean we won’t be—intimate?” she asked with much surprise.

  “You’ve caught on quickly, my love. And you needn’t worry about me in that respect. I won’t be cutting my own throat to spite my face. You’re only one woman among many, and for a man it is easy to find relief for his baser needs.”

  Heather sighed with the joy of the disburdened and smiled, gloating over her good fortune. “Sir, nothing could please me more, I assure you.”

  He sneered at her coldly. “Yes, I can see that you’re pleased now. But your hell has only begun, m’lady. I’m not termed a pleasant sort to live with. I have a foul temper which can snap up a small tart like you without a second’s notice. So be warned, my beauty. Do not tempt it. Tread lightly and perhaps you will survive. Do you understand?”

  She nodded, no longer licking her lips over her blessings.

  “Now go to sleep. It will be some time before I’m able to do the same.”

  Quick to obey, lest he should find fault with her so soon, she slid down into the bed with haste and drew the covers under her chin, watching him warily as he moved across the room to the balcony doors. He opened them and stepped out into the moonlight. Not taking her eyes from him, Heather turned on her side carefully so she would not draw his attention back to her. Again he had taken up the stance of a sailor looking out to sea and the moon touched on his handsome face and broad shoulders. His smooth, brown skin gleamed in its light, and she drifted to sleep staring out at him.