Emerald Ecstasy by Lynette Vinet Read Free Book Online Page B

private person. She never had an inkling concerning his thoughts.
    Amelie only knew that Claude made her comfortable and was more of a husband to her than Daniel had ever been. Each morning Claude carried her downstairs after his mother, Lallie, helped her dress, so she could sit on the veranda and watch the horses graze in the meadow. Claude never spoke unless directly addressed but waited like a sentinel until she motioned to go inside.
    She knew Dera trusted Claude, as did Daniel who had been his childhood friend. Amelie remembered Daniel telling her he had been a sickly child, and Claude had entertained him with stories about his life in Santo Domingo.
    Amelie sniffed. Well, Daniel certainly wasn’t sickly now. During his absence while he cavorted across Europe and painted portraits, some of nude women no doubt, Claude had taken care of her. Daniel had placed his own wife in a slave’s care. But as Amelie propped the pillows and settled back, she knew she didn’t mind.
    She didn’t see Claude as an ordinary slave. Perhaps it was his looks. She admitted he was terribly attractive with his dusky skin which was much lighter than his mother’s, but darker than her uncle who was a Spaniard. His hair was dark brown but riddled in places with streaks of a lighter shade, and his eyes were a deep chestnut in color.
    Amelie had heard rumors that Lallie had been the mistress of a white planter in Santo Domingo and Claude was the result of that union. This information made Claude even more fascinating to her.
    A lonely, neglected wife with long hours in which to while away the time, Amelie shocked herself by having incredible visions of being held in Claude’s strong arms and growing weak with desire from his kisses. At times she wondered if she might be perverted. Decent white, women didn’t have such fantasies about their male slaves, or that was what she told herself. She knew white men did dally with the female ones and no one thought the worse of them. Her own father had had a negro mistress on Belle Riviere, and she knew her brother had a quadroon mistress in New Orleans. But since Amelie was brought up to believe that decent women didn’t have such thoughts or do such things, she wondered if she might indeed be depraved. Yet, the thought of being kissed by Claude still excited her.
    â€œMon Dieu!” she exclaimed and punched the pillow. What good did it do to dwell on such thoughts anyway? Even if Daniel returned home and wanted to be a husband in the physical sense, she couldn’t walk.
    Staring at the tester above the bed, she tried to remember how long ago some feeling had returned to her limbs. She wasn’t certain, because it happened over a period of time. She hadn’t told anyone and she didn’t want to. Her paralysis was the only way to make Daniel feel guilty for what he had done to her.
    A sad smile formed and hovered on her face. She knew now she shouldn’t have married Daniel when he returned from Ireland. His pursuit, the courtship, had happened so swiftly. He completely turned her head with his ardor. She wondered why he hadn’t seemed interested in her before the trip to visit his brother in Ireland. They had known each other for years, and not once had he given an indication that he thought of her as a potential wife. However, when he saw her again while riding across Belle Riviere one day, everything changed. He wanted her badly.
    And she wanted him. The fever in her body whenever he kissed her led her to believe she was truly in love with him, and she would have thrown her scruples to the wind and let him make love to her before the wedding. Daniel protested, so they waited until the priest pronounced them man and wife. She thought the nights they laid together in each other’s arms after making love to be lacking in passion. She was basically innocent; however, she realized that Daniel wasn’t as eager for her as she was for him. Granted he was