Dream Lover - Part 24
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Part 24

When Emerald had finished her drink, Nan took her upstairs to the master suite, where Fiona was remaking the wide bed with a fresh drift of snowy sheets.

Apparently they were aware of Sean's exacting standards.

"I'll send Michael up to lay the fire," Fiona offered.

"Thank you. There's no hurry, we won't need to light it until we retire."

When she and Nan were at last alone, Emerald gave her the letter.

214 a" Virginia Henley "My brother, Johnny, asked me to give you this; it arrived just yesterday."

Nan seemed completely tongue-tied.

"I know that he rode from Meath to be with you last month, though I doubt Sean knows of the tryst."

Nan let out her breath with relief. "Oh, I'm so glad I can confide in you. May I call you Emerald?"

"Of course. I'm just as glad I can confide in you. Johnny and I are very close.

Our father is a vile man. He was particularly savage with Johnny when he was a boy.

He took pleasure in punishing him. Our mother protected us from his rages, but after she abandoned us, we only had each other."

"Your mother is my aunt Amber. I never knew her. She married your father and went to England before I was born."

"From what I've heard she married him to get away from May-nooth and Ireland, then ironically she wished every day she was back here. I don't think she ever loved him, though she pretended to. Nan, I'm asking you never to do that to Johnny. Please don't pretend you love him so that he will take you away from here."

"Oh, Emerald, please don't think that. Johnny doesn't want to take me away; he wants to come and live here."

"Could you be happy and content here?"

"I could be happy anywhere with Johnny."

That's exactly how I feel about Sean, Emerald thought. "Read your letter."

To give Nan privacy Emerald went into the adjoining bathing room to wash her hands and face.

She had thought the rooms sumptuous at Greystones, but this s.p.a.cious bathroom took her breath away. The walls and ceiling were mirrored, the floor tiled with pale pink marble. The high, square tub and the steps leading up to it were also pink marble, as was the matching water closet.

"This is heavenly," she called out, "like being in the heart of a rose."

Nan came to the doorway, tucking her precious letter inside her bodice.

"Would you rather take a bath than tour Maynooth? I can come back later."

"Good Lord, no! I'm nor going to waste this decadent room on a bath by myself. I shall wait until Scan is free to When Nan's cheeks burned hotly, Emerald guessed she had been newly introduced to the secret intimacies of male and female.

Phrases from her brother's letter flashed into her head. I could not help myself. . . .

I've never acted so impulsively before. Emerald closed her eyes and inwardly groaned, Oh, Lord, Johnny, what have you done?

24.

The vast dining hall at Maynooth had been designed in ancient times to accommodate the family and its men-at-arms. From the head table on the dais Emerald looked across the room, imagining what it must have been like in centuries past. It did not take a great leap of imagination. The FitzGeralds employed no servants, since there were so many hands to share the work, but all members of the family had their own duties. The food was served by the younger ones aged ten to twelve, looking for all the world like page boys of yore, except that now some of them were girls.

For the most part the tables seemed to be segregated by s.e.x; the men sitting together, while the women sat with their younger children. One table was filled by elderly ladies whose ages must range between seventy and eighty years, and Emerald concluded these must be the sisters of Sean's grandfather.

Great steaming haunches of beef and lamb were carried in on carving boards, followed by heaping platters of vegetables, loaves of bread, bowls of gravy, dishes of pudding, trays of fruit, and whole cheeses. It was suddenly brought home to Emerald just how much food was consumed each and every day by the FitzGerald clan.

"Where does all the food come from?" she asked Sean.

"Maynooth is self-sustaining," he explained. "We have thousands of acres. As well as horses, we breed cattle, sheep, and pigs. Potato, turnip, and cabbage plants stretch for miles, though cabbage is never served when I am in residence," he emphasized.

For the first time Emerald saw him in the role of earl, seated at the head of the table on the dais, master of all he surveyed. As usual, Sean was dressed in black, relieved only by immaculate linen at throat and wrist. These days he wore a black leather glove on only his left hand. He never removed it outside of their bedchamber.

With them at the head table were his mother's sisters and their first cousins, who comprised the hierarchy of Maynooth.

"Ladies, I am in need of your advice and your help." He had their complete attention. "As you know, Shamus lives in the gatehouse watchtower. The use of his legs is much diminished. Paddy Burke is invaluable to me in running the shipping business, but at the moment he is reduced to nursemaid. Can you help solve my dilemma?"

The ladies all spoke at once. The discussion was both lengthy and heated, bordering upon argument. Emerald felt alarm until she glanced uncertainly at Sean and saw him lower an eyelid in a deliberate wink. As she listened to them catalog Shamus O'Toole's faults, she feared none of them would offer her services.

Therefore it came as a complete surprise when every last one volunteered, then argued about who should take precedence. It was an impa.s.se, with each of the three elder sistersa"Maggie, Meggie, and Meagana"presenting valid reasons why she should be the one.

When Sean raised his all-powerful hand, they deferred to him immediately. "I propose you take it in turns, say a month at a time."

They agreed to adopt his suggestion. "But who shall be first?" Maggie demanded.

"Give me credit for some intelligence. I wouldn't step into that trap if it were baited with gold. The choice is yours, ladies."

"In that case I shall be first. I take it we shall leave for Greystones in the morning?"

Emerald was almost afraid to look at Sean, for it was Aunt Tiara, his grandfather's sister, who had spoken. There was not even a murmur of dissent, because she was slightly mad they let her have her way. When no one overruled Tiara, Emerald summoned enough courage to glance at the Earl of Kildare. He was smiling broadly, and for once it reached all the way to his pewter eyes.

When they retired to the master suite, Emerald gave vent to her amus.e.m.e.nt.

She rolled on the bed with laughter, gasping for breath. "OhmiG.o.d, whatever will your father say?"

"A great deal, liberally sprinkled with blue oaths and filthy curses," Sean replied with amus.e.m.e.nt.

"We are laughing now, but it won't be funny when we have to face him."

He came to the bed and stood looking down at her. "You're not afraid of him?" he asked quizzically.

"Of course I am," she admitted.

"But he has the softest heart in the world, especially where women are concerned. My mother had him wrapped about her little finger. Any man foolish enough to let that happen is vulnerable to all women."

His words clearly implied that he would never be so foolish. Emerald chose to ignore the warning. In her newfound confidence she not only believed she had Sean wrapped about her little finger, she believed she could make him jump through hoops.

There was a light tap on their door. Sean frowned, then moved to answer it.

"h.e.l.lo, my lovely, we were just talking of you."

"Then you weren't wasting your time," Tiara announced blithely. "I've brought Emerald a bedgown." She handed him a diaphanous wisp of magenta. "Purple will kindle her pa.s.sion."

"I will kindle her pa.s.sion."

She looked him up and down. "Yes, I believe you will. A man who is c.o.c.ksure is irresistible. Good night, my darlings, I wish you joy of each other."

Once again, they were left alone.

"And what does your maiden aunt know of c.o.c.ks?"

He grinned. "Just because she never married doesn't make her inexperienced.

s.e.xuality is probably the wellspring of her creativity. Take a look at this." He spread the sheer night rail across the bed.

" 'Tis indacent!" she said in a thick brogue.

"Speaking of indacent, have you seen the bathing room?"

"Oh, yes, I thought dinner would never end." She peeled off his black leather glove, then rolled over on the bed and presented her back to him. "Unfasten me."

The moment his hands touched her, he turned rigid. It would be nothing short of a miracle if they made it as far as the pink marble steps.

Sean lay awake long after Emerald had drifted off to sleep. His body curved about her protectively, one hand cupping her breast. A month ago it had fit his palm perfectly, now it was much fuller. Her body had subtly changed so that it was softer, more curvaceous; even her skin glowed like polished ivory. He finally acknowledged that she had quickened with child, and as he had feared, his need to cherish her doubled.

It had taken such a short time to accomplish the deed; he was filled with regret that he had impregnated her so quickly. Yet he had counted on the inevitable outcome when he lured her from her family, so regrets were as useless as an aging wh.o.r.e. Though giving her up would be like mutilating himself, he knew he would pay the price. The oath of revenge he had pledged while on the hulks paled beside the sacred vow he had sworn at his mother's grave.

His mind firmly cast aside regrets. He need not give her up for months yet. He must not even think about the future; he must live for today. When a woman carried her first child it should be the happiest time of her life, and he silently vowed to make it so. He would lavish attention upon her, he decided. Then he mocked himself. She was at her loveliest; how selfless of him to pledge his complete devotion!

The next thing Sean knew, it was morning and Emerald was softly moaning.

He scooped her up and carried her to the bathroom water closet, where she was indelicately sick. He knelt behind her, his hands firmly holding in her stomach muscles as she retched. When her spasms subsided, he sat her on the pink marble steps and tenderly bathed her face.

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

"Never apologize to me again, Emerald." I am the one who should beg your forgiveness.

He carried her back to bed. "Stay put until you are feeling less fragile." He dressed quickly. "I'll bring Tiara, she is a wizard with herbs and potions. I'm sure it's unnecessary for you to suffer like this."

In no time Sean was hack with Princess Tiara. "Just as I suspected!" she declared.

"What can I do to help?" Sean asked.

"Have you not done enough?" She pointed to the door. "Since you are the author of her misery, you may leave us. She cannot go to the dining hall and face gammon ham in her delicate condition. But of course, that won't stop you," she accused.

Emerald's eyes glittered with amus.e.m.e.nt as they met Sean's. "I'm feeling better already."

When they were alone, Tiara gave her a brilliant smile. "Ah, little one, I have so much to teach you. Lesson number one: Guilt is a formidable weapon. It allows you to rule all save those without conscience. Now, then, I have many remedies for morning sickness. There is cham-omile, mint, barley water?"

"You decide."

Tiara was delighted. "How brave you are!"

"Not really," Emerald murmured confidentially. "I've guessed your secret.

You only pretend to be doolally."

The older woman looked alarmed. "Mary and Joseph, promise me you won't tell the FitzGeralds. Sean knows, of course, he's always been a shrewd devil, but the rest of them think me quite mad."

When she returned, she not only brought an antidote for Emerald's queasiness, she brought her a flagon of almond and rose oil. "This works magic.

You must rub it on your belly, b.r.e.a.s.t.s, and thighs every day so you will have no ugly stretch marks."

"Ugly stretch marks? G.o.d help me, but I'm ignorant," Emerald admitted.

"Then it's a grand thing I'm coming to Greystones. Are you feeling up to riding?"

"Oh, yes, the nausea has vanished. Will you ride, Tiara?"

"Of course I shall ride. I'm not quite ready for the knacker's yard. And by the way, my name is really Tara. The family changed it when I took to wearing the tiara.

Their pathetic idea of wit, I suppose."

When Sean returned from breakfast, he was relieved to find Emerald completely recovered. As he helped her fasten her cream riding dress, a frown creased his brow. "Darling, how would you like to invite one of the younger FitzCieralds for a visit? My business is going to take me away for some days at a time, and I'd be happier if you had someone to keep you company."

"I like Nan best of all," she said tentatively, watching his reaction. She knew he had deliberately used Nan as bait to tempt her brother.

"Nan would be perfect," he agreed.

Emerald wondered just how perfect she would seem if he knew Johnny had already stolen the bait right off his hook. "Can she ride?"

"Darling, she's a FitzGerald of Kildare, she rides like the wind."

"Good. She can keep pace with you and Lucifer while I plod along with Tara."

He raised his eyebrows. "Tara, is it? You're a shrewd little baggage."

"I had a good teacher," she said, casting him a provocative glance. "While she's at Greystones she's going to abdicate her throne and teach me how to act like a princess."

"You, my beauty, need no lessons; you are quite haughty enough."