Chapter Nineteen
Sweet Dreams Plantation House
One moment she stared at Luc aboard the deck of his ship, the next instant she stood in her bedroom.
Yipping, the dogs raced up the stairs and swirled around her feet. Luc must have let them in, but he was nowhere to be seen.
“Luc are you here?” Grace called.
The curtains of the French window billowed.
“You need time. Call my name when you want me,” his voice whispered on the breeze. The dogs kept dancing and licking at her hands. “Mars, Mercury, lay down,” she ordered. They took up their nightly spot in front of her bedroom door.
Grace slumped onto the bed. He was right. She did need time. She thought she believed in his curse, but seeing his ship, kissing him had been… too much.
That kiss had been glorious, but the moment she stepped from his arms, fear—bone-deep, blade-sharp, heart-rending fear—had overwhelmed her.
I’ve kissed men before, and kissing Luc wasn’t all that different.
Why in the world would she be afraid of something, so… ordinary?
However, the embrace had been about as far from ordinary as the North Star was from Bayou Mal Chance.
Every romantic cliché about making love applied—to the nth degree.
The earth moved. Lightning struck. Her blood sizzled. Her world spun. Everything had vanished except him.
All those truisms combined could not describe the seething heat, the searing joy of kissing and holding Luc. Grace had been as close to rapture as humanly possible.
Rapture?
Yes, rapture so beguiling she’d wanted to breathe it, live it eternally—beyond the end of time.
That—the sensation of losing herself, of becoming something, someone other than herself—that terrified her to tears.
To say nothing of the fact that the man causing her rapture was not someone she could spend her life with.
She’d stepped back, breaking the kiss and the thralling ecstasy. Tried, while Luc had probed for reasons, to mask her fear with simple denials, and finally insisted on going home.
Now she was here, but it did not feel like home. Grace had labored for months to make Sweet Dreams hers, to create a home. Despite the various intrusions and mystifying events, she’d believed she’d succeeded.
She paced, chewing on her bottom lip.
Success or not, Sweet Dreams wasn’t home. Her soul whispered that fact, until it was yelling in her ears.
Nor was Boston, or any other place she could think of living. Home was Luc, and something more, something beyond. Like a word she knew but could not recall.
A word she needed. A word that would explain everything.
Whatever that word was, whatever the home was that it would explain, it lay just beyond her reach. It was maddening.
It was entirely Lucien Flynn’s fault.
Why couldn’t he have just left me alone? Why couldn’t he just live his cursed life and not involve me?
If he’d let her be, she’d never have fallen in love with him.
No!
Deny it as much as she wanted, it was true.
Grace loved a phantom, a man only half real. The ability to love, murdered when she’d been betrayed in Boston, had somehow found its way into Lucien Flynn’s keeping.
She mustn’t ever be that vulnerable, that weak again.
She would not survive.
I was right to be frightened. Luc is a danger to me.
Grace needed to protect herself.
As the idea solidified, the nervous energy that’d sustained her fled.
Panic was exhausting. Still, she went through the motions of preparing for bed, finding some small comfort in the routine.
Grace even wound the mechanism of the silver keepsake box.
She lay back, turned onto her side, hugged her pillow and dreamed.
Grainne walked down the lane; foreboding hung in her heart like a looming storm waiting.
Lucien waited for her under the rowan tree by the brochan beag.
Brilliant green hills flanked either side of her path.
She rounded a curve, and the stream came into view.
In the distance lay a beach where the surf ebbed and flowed.
Farther distant were the black boiling clouds of a squall line.
She was a farmer’s daughter, but many of her neighbors and friends were fisher folk.
So, she knew all the boats would be racing for shore.
She, too, had to be home before the storm, so they had very little time.
Turning away from the sea, Grainne spotted her beloved standing between the brochan and the ancient tree.
She prayed he’d understand, but her heart said he wouldn’t.
Just as she knew he would do what she asked.
He loved her nearly as much as she loved him, and she was about to break both their hearts.
Too soon, she stood before Lucien Flynn.
He opened his arms wide, inviting her to the shelter and warmth of a treasured embrace. Grainne shook her head and choked back tears. “’Tis sorry, I am, Luc. I canna marry you.”
The anguish on his face spilled her tears.
“Why, darling, Grainne? I love you. You love me. Why can we not marry?” Desperation tightened his voice.
“Because you’re a duke’s son, and I’m a crofter’s daughter.” She spoke with a calm she did not feel. She had to be reasonable, matter of fact even, or Luc would never give her up, and he must, for both their sakes.
“Nonsense.” He smiled, took her hand, and tugged her closer. “I am a duke’s illegitimate, second son. A bastard. My marriage is of no import to the Margris succession.”
“And what of your own title and lands? You are Baron Kilmore, lord of McCullen Grove. Bastard or not, a crofter’s daughter is no fit bride for you.” she whispered, still struggling for calm and reason. The storm winds kicked up.
“Title and lands come to me from my mother, and Margris has no say in them.”
She straightened a bit within his embrace. “We both know he does. He’s your guardian until you are five and twenty.”
Luc’s hand on her cheek kept her looking at him. “Six years is not so long to wait. And if you don’t want to wait, we can elope and seek our fortunes in America.”
She shook her head. “’Twould leave my family with no one to support them. Since Jamie died last winter, times have been hard.”
“Your brother was a fool to get involved in rebelling against the English. Why didn’t you tell me how bad things are?” Luc chided.
“You know how proud Da is. He’d not take charity from the church, let alone you.” She stepped back, their arms still linked, but with distance between them.
“Especially me. I’m sorry my father made a mistress of your da’s first love then let her die in childbirth when she tried to claim the child was the duke’s, I had no say in my father’s actions,” he protested.
My father married another woman, but he’ll never forgive Margis’ selfish cruelty. Da would never change. Still, Da blames Margris, and you’re his son.”
“And none of that matters. You must marry me,” Luc insisted.
Grainne shook her head again. “I cannot.”
His brow furrowed. “Is there someone else?”
She clutched her hands together, pressed her lips into a thin line, and gave one slow nod.
“Be damned!” Luc grasped her by the shoulders. “Who is he? I’ll kill him. Did he hurt you? Force you?”
“No!” She pushed him away. “No, Luc. Listen to me. No one forced me, or hurt me. No one makes me do this but myself.”
“Who?”
“Squire Comerford.”
“That pig,” Luc sneered. “He can’t lick enough English boots to satisfy his greed for money and power.”
“I know he is not the best of men. However, Da is horrible sick. We need that money and power. Maybe as his wife, I can soften some of the harsher influences the English force on us through him.” She was begging Luc to understand.
“You would sacrifice our love for ease and comfort?” His handsome face was wrought with pain.
Anger rushed to the fore. “How dare you accuse me of such.” Her hands fisted, and she stomped her foot.
“I sacrifice nothing, save myself. I love you, now. I always will. You’ll carry my heart forever more.
However, I must take care of my family. They gave me life.
They gave me time, and the ability to know true love with you.
” Her chin lifted. “I owe them, and ’tis time to pay my debt. ”
“You break my heart, Grainne, and I give you every shattered piece , save the one I need to stay alive. Perhaps someday you’ll find a use for those pieces. Now I’ll say farewell. I’ll leave Ireland. You’ll not see me again.”
She wiped away her tears. “Then kiss me one more time for memory’s sake.”
“Aye for memory’s sake.”
Luc took her in his arms, caressed her cheek. “Don’t cry, my darling love. I understand, even though it costs me more than you can imagine.”
She pressed her lips to his and opened when his tongue touched the seam.
She submerged herself in the sweet passion he offered.
Too soon he stepped back, releasing her.
He bowed, turned, then walked away. Grainne watched her heart disappear down the path around the hills that led to the grand house where he and his mother lived.
Then she made her way home and told her parents to accept the squire’s proposal.
Grace woke and went immediately to work, completing chores and speaking with the land manager.
However, an urgent demand for certainty pressed at her.
She could not deny her need for answers.
Information is power, she reminded herself.
One thing she knew how to do better than any other was gather information.
By mid-morning, she sat beside the phone and placed a call. The connection required three operators, and a secretary. The voices on the other end came across tinny, faint and scratchy. “Hello, Professor Coolidge speaking.”
“Archie, it’s Grace.”
“Grace? Grace Thibodaux?”
“Yes.”
“How long has it been?”
Ten years, since I graduated.”
“Where are you? You disappeared after….”