Savage Surrender Read online

  Not important! Honoré's indiscretions had thrust me into one appalling alliance simply to avert scandal, and now that we were about to do something even more scandalous—it was none of my concern!

  I put my hands up to my flaming cheeks. "This is horrid! Insane!" I said breathlessly.

  The Marquis' voice cut through the air. "I couldn't agree with you more, Mademoiselle."

  The aged Cardinale shuffled forward and said in a quavering voice, "We may begin now? Is there to be no music? Bless you, my children."

  "Si, Cardinale, si," Honoré said, bustling around arranging furniture and positioning the Marquis and me in front of the Cardinale.

  "How beautiful is the morning," the old man sighed rapturously. "Si?"

  "Good God, the man is senile," said the Marquis. "This is lunacy!"

  We were married in Uncle Theo's library by a feeble Italian prelate with Honoré and Philippe as the two witnesses required by canon law. At the end the Cardinale produced a document from the depths of his robes. We all signed.

  "Blessings of God on you both, Barone e Baronessa," said the Cardinale grandly, offering his ring to be kissed. He squinted his rheumy eyes at us and beamed happily.

  Armand Valadon laughed aloud. "He thinks I'm the Baron! This can't possibly be legal!"

  "It's legal, all right," said Philippe coldly. "You may be sure of that."

  At that moment Uncle Theo burst in with the real Baron in tow.

  "Elise, where have you been?" Uncle Theo demanded. "Everyone's been asking—" He looked at the Cardinale and at the Marquis, and then he caught sight of the document that lay on his desk. He picked it up and scanned it quickly. "Great God in Heaven!" He mopped his brow and sat down heavily. The Baron began to sputter in German.

  "The Marquis de Pellissier is the man for whom we have been searching," said Honoré. "He preferred marriage with Elise to instant death. The ceremony took place just a few minutes ago."

  "Are you mad?" Uncle Theo pounded the arm of his chair. "Do you have any idea of what you've done?"

  "Don't worry, Uncle," said Honoré, "the Baron will be repaid, I promise you."

  "A marriage! It's out of the question, do you hear? I shall procure an annulment! An annulment! I forbid this! I refuse to permit it."

  The Baron spoke up. "Marriage? Death? Ceremony? I do not understand. What has my golden girl done?"

  The fight was on. Uncle Theo ranted, the Baron wept disconsolately, Philippe and Honoré pleaded, and the Cardinale grinned benignly at us all. Armand Valadon stood at the open window, apart from the fray, and gazed placidly at the lights playing on the fountains. A glorious display of fireworks had been planned for midnight, to signal that the marriage contract had been signed and that the houses of von Meier and Lesconflair were joined. They went off as planned, unseen by everyone in the room except the Marquis.

  When Uncle Theo discovered his shattered figurine he insisted that the Marquis take me away at once. It took Philippe nearly half an hour to persuade him to permit us to stay until the morning, when he and Honoré would escort us to the Marquis' estates south of Paris.

  I went over to him and tried to embrace him, but he put me off, saying, "No, no, it's all right, Elise. I should have known you would have your own way in the end. I was a fool to expect anything from you or your brothers. You are savages, you Corsicans, all savages. I have never known a Corsican who wasn't a savage, and that includes that upstart Bonaparte!"

  We could tell when Uncle Theo was really upset when he began to vilify Napoleon. This time not even Philippe could soothe him. Finally my brothers escorted the Marquis and me out of the library. Philippe sighed deeply.

  "I'll show you and Elise to the bridal chamber, my Lord," he said to the Marquis. My heart thumped painfully. Oh, God, I thought, not that.

  "And shall you keep watch through the night to make sure that the marriage is consummated?" the Marquis asked calmly.

  Philippe stiffened. "My Lord, this has been a trying night for all of us. I beg you, please remember that we are gentlemen—"

  "Lest you prod me into remembrance with your swords and make your sister a widow before she is even a wife? I don't think you will do that." The Marquis turned to me. "Come, my dear, I think we should do something to celebrate this occasion. This ball is being given in honor of your wedding, is it not?" He placed a firm hand under my elbow and propelled me in the direction of the grand ballroom, where our guests, ignorant of what had just taken place in the library, were enjoying themselves to the full. "By all means let us attend—together."

  "No!" I tried to jerk away and his grip tightened. I looked pleadingly at my brothers, who looked away. I was this man's wife now, his property. He could do what he liked with me, and no one dared interfere. "I beg you," I hissed at Valadon, "spare me the embarrassment of being seen with you in front of my guests."

  He looked at me coldly and said, "Have you spared me this evening? We shall have to face society sometime, why not now? Are you embarrassed," he stressed the word unpleasantly, "to be my wife? Perhaps you are embarrassed at the suddenness with which this has all taken place. I cannot blame you for that. I am rather bemused, shall we say, myself. I have always found that the best way to deal with embarrassment is to ignore it, since it comes only when one is concerned with what others may think. But we don't care about that, do we, Elise, or we would not have behaved so shamefully in the woods. Are you still embarrassed about that? I, for one, would have guessed that you had no shame at all."

  He dragged me down the long corridor towards the main entrance of the ballroom. I was aware of the surprised expressions on the faces of the people we passed. I wanted to die. I wanted to sink through the floor, to vanish, to disappear in a puff of smoke. I felt degraded, ridiculous, and wretched, but I held my head high as I swept along beside him.

  We reached the top of the short flight of stairs that led down to the enormous dance floor. I held back. "No, I can't," I said under my breath. "I refuse to go in there."

  "Madame." His voice carried over the din of the crowd and the orchestra. I cringed. "Kindly remember that you are my wife! In my brief acquaintance with you I have discerned in your character several alarming traits: you are willful, you are stubborn, you are headstrong, and you are accustomed to having your own way. Well I, Madame, am also accustomed to having my way. You will submit to me or you will suffer for it here and now, in front of these good people." His gaze swept over the room, which had fallen absolutely silent as he spoke. Even the musicians had stopped playing. "But forgive us, Mesdames and Messieurs," he said. "You have come here to celebrate a wedding and so you shall. Gentlemen Musicians, a valse, if you please."

  The crowd fell back as we descended the stairs. The dance floor cleared, and an excited hum arose from the edges of the room. My husband pulled me around to face him. I lifted my right hand to slap him, but he caught it in mid-air and pressed my fingers to his lips. Then he passed his arm around my waist and we began to dance sedately in unnerving silence until the orchestra, recovering from its astonishment, began raggedly to play a waltz.

  "I shall never forgive you for this," I said tightly.

  "Never is a long time, Madame. Ah, you're doing splendidly. One, two, three. One, two, three. Very good."

  "I hate you!" I said through clenched teeth. "I would sooner be married to an ape!"

  "And I to a cobra," he said mildly. "But that is beside the point. Why don't you smile for all these wonderful people? I wonder what they are thinking."

  "I don't give a damn what they think!"

  He shook his head slightly. "I must cure you of your abominable language, Madame. It's quite shocking."

  I opened my mouth to retort, but his arm tightened suddenly and he drew me closer. Our bodies touched, from chest to knee. The crowd gasped. Around and around we whirled, faster and faster. I ceased to be aware of the faces in the crowd. I ceased to care what they thought. We might have been spinning in some kind of vortex or in a gigantic whirlpool. I
saw only him. I was aware only of the hard power of his body, his warmth, his grace, the warm breath on my cheek, the thrilling pressure of his arm. I closed my eyes. My head fell back and I felt his lips on my throat—

  The music ended abruptly. We came to a halt. My head was spinning and I would have fallen but for the support of his arm. He addressed the assembly:

  "My wife and I appreciate your warm good wishes, but it is late and we are tired."

  Then, to my horror, he swept me up in his arms and carried me out of the ballroom and up the stairs to the second floor landing. When we reached the top he turned and bellowed, "By God, will someone show us to the bridal chamber, or must I bed the lady in the hall?"

  A wide-eyed footman darted up the stairs. "This way, my Lord."

  Finally we were alone in the gorgeously decorated apartment. He set me down.

  "Not bad." He glanced around. "A trifle overdone, but I suppose your Baron would not find it so. Ah, I see some kind person has supplied us with champagne. The brother with the sense of humor, no doubt. Philippe, was it? A shame we cannot be friends. Will you have some?" I glared at him. He shrugged. "Too bad. It's really excellent."

  Sipping casually at his champagne, he strolled over and tested the softness of the bed with his hand. "The purpose of the champagne in the bridal chamber is, I imagine, to alleviate embarrassment," he leered at me, "calm the nerves, and dull the pain, should there be pain. But of course, you are no virgin—"

  I found my voice. "Thanks to you, my Lord."

  "Thanks to me. Indeed, we are old friends, you and I." He refilled his glass and stretched out on a chaise longue. "Yes, this impromptu wedding has caused me some inconvenience, Elise."

  "I'm glad to hear it," I said.

  He grinned. "It seems that whenever we meet I must delay a journey. If you were different, I might respect the somewhat unorthodox circumstances that have brought us together this night. You would like me to leave you untouched and the marriage unconsummated so that you could procure an annulment, wouldn't you? You could even marry again when the fuss died down, perhaps to that grotesque German."

  "I want no favors from you," I told him.

  "Nor are you likely to get any," he said. "I find you singularly undeserving of consideration. After all, a night spent in a splendid Chateau with a noble lady is much better than one spent in a small cramped room of some provincial inn, in the company of a street whore, don't you agree? Take off your gown, Mademoiselle—or rather, Madame, and let us get down to business."

  Fear knotted my stomach and sent shivers down the backs of my legs. I moistened my lips with my tongue and said, "I shan't."

  "You must," he said bluntly. "I have given an order and you will obey. You know very well that if you go running off to your brothers now they will send you back to me." He set down his empty glass and crossed his arms over his chest. "Take off your clothes. I want another look at what I had to buy to save my neck."

  "No, Monsieur." I prayed that my voice would not betray the terror I felt. "If you are such a depraved animal that you would bed me by force in these circumstances, I cannot stop you. But I will not help you. I will fight you with every ounce of strength I possess."

  A hundred candles filled the room with a brilliant yellow light. Armand Valadon stared at me for a while, then he got to his feet and walked to each candelabra and wall sconce in turn, blowing the candles out. When the room was dark except for a pale glimmer of moonlight he took off his own clothes and tossed them over a chair. He came towards me through the shimmering moonlight and stood in front of me.

  I leaned back against a low dresser and braced myself with my hands. I held my breath and closed my eyes. When I felt the gentle weight of his hands on my shoulders I shuddered inwardly, but I vowed that I would not show my fear. I would not plead and beg this time. I would not scream and I would not weep. I would choose my time carefully, and then I would attack.

  He grasped the edges of my bodice and slowly tore the silk and golden gauze away from my body. I stiffened, and when I judged him to be near enough I swiftly brought my knee up to his groin. He blocked it with one hand, and with the other he grabbed my hair and pulled my head back so roughly that I thought my neck would snap. He was holding me so close to him that I had no room to maneuver.

  "None of that, Madame," he chuckled. "You don't want a worthless bridegroom, do you?"

  "I hope you burn in hell!" I told him.

  He removed the Baron's diamonds from my neck and earlobes. "Not part of your dowry, I trust," he said. He dropped the jewels carelessly to the floor. Then he took the combs and pins out of my hair and let it fall softly to my shoulders. He kissed my neck and my ears and my eyes, and his tongue found my mouth. A warm flush spread over me. When he lowered his head and kissed my breasts, I felt as though someone was driving a burning spike into my loins. My strength of purpose melted away. I was dizzy, weak, and as limp as a doll in his arms. He slid his hands down to my buttocks and kneaded them gently. I gasped audibly and tossed my head. Every nerve in my body was tingling and alive.

  My hands twitched convulsively. I stroked him lightly and tentatively. His flesh felt firm and smooth, and cool. I ran my hands over his back and shoulders. His kisses grew deeper and more demanding. I wreathed my arms around his neck and laced my fingers through his thick hair. I could feel his fiery nakedness against the entire length of my body. He nudged me gently with his knee. I moaned deliriously and pressed closer to him.

  He scooped me up and carried me to the bed. I closed my eyes and rested my cheek on his shoulder. He paused for a moment, then dumped me unceremoniously onto the coverlet. I looked up at him uncomprehendingly.

  "Good night, Madame," he said. Even though I couldn't see his face clearly I could tell he was grinning. He gathered up his clothes and slung them over his arm. He held his shoes in his hand.

  "Where—where are you going?"

  "To sleep in the dressing room, of course," he said. "Rest easy, my lady. I am not really a brute. I shall not rape you—tonight." He went out through the connecting door to the dressing room.

  I threw myself face down on the bed and pummeled the pillow. His meaning was clear: he would not rape me because I was willing, all too willing, to give myself to him. I was utterly shameless and wanton. He was probably laughing himself silly now. Oh, I was such a fool! No doubt he thought that my behavior absolved him from any guilt for what happened at the pool. In the right circumstances I really was no better than a street whore.

  I tossed restlessly, starting at each bump and footfall as the wedding guests took themselves to bed. I could not ignore the deep hunger that gnawed at my vitals, and I could not put my husband out of my mind.

  Chapter 3

  The Honeymoon

  We left the Chateau in the cold gray of early morning, before Uncle Theo and his guests arose. Armand Valadon, Marquis de Pellissier, was to travel with me in a small coach while Honoré and Philippe rode alongside to make sure the Marquis did not escape before I was safely installed as the new mistress of Pellissier. Honoré had armed himself with pistols, a rapier, and a poignard, and he flushed red to the roots of his black hair when the Marquis expressed an earnest wish that he would not hurt himself.

  Françoise filled two trunks with the items from my trousseau that she thought I would need most. These were strapped on behind, and inside the coach I had a smaller valise with the garments and toiletries I would need during the journey.

  I wore the costume that had been made for my trip to Bavaria, a soft jade green velvet traveling suit trimmed with black. A shower of fine lace at the throat softened the fashionably masculine cut of the jacket and provided a perfect setting, or so the seamstress had assured me, for my oval face. Françoise had dressed my hair so that clusters of curls bounced under the brim of my black bonnet. I carried a small reticule and an ebony walking stick.

  Françoise begged Philippe and Honoré to allow her to accompany me. "It's unheard of, a young lady traveling all t
hat way without another woman along!" she fumed. "If your Uncle were in his right mind he would never allow it."

  "I'm sorry, Françoise," said Philippe kindly, "but Elise will send for you after she arrives. It will only take a week or so."

  "We are more interested in speed than propriety,

  Françoise," said Honoré loftily, "and we want to keep the coach as light as possible." He eyed her considerable bulk. "Speed is of the essence."

  "Your hide is of the essence, boy," she retorted grimly. "You'd better get it out of my sight before I forget you're supposed to be a man and give you a thrashing."

  I hugged her tightly. "Oh, Françoise," I whispered despairingly, "why must I go away with such a brute?"

  She patted my shoulder reassuringly. "There, child, things happen for the best, mark my words. You won't be sorry."

  "I'm sorry already! I have never met such a loathsome creature, one that I detested so—so—" I glanced over to where my bridegroom was standing idly in the driveway. He caught my eye and grinned lewdly at me. "Oh! I hate him!" I exclaimed audibly. I dropped my voice. "And he hates me."

  Françoise chuckled. "Does he? He's angry because a man wants to choose his own time for marrying and his own woman. But you be sweet to him and he'll come around. Remember, you're the prettiest girl in all France, and in spite of your willful ways and your tantrums you're the sweetest. Give him a month and he won't trade you for all the coal in China."

  "Tea, Françoise," I corrected her gently. "All the tea in China."

  "Let's go, Elise." Honoré jerked impatiently at his horse's reins.

  The Marquis opened the carriage door and offered his arm to help me in. I ignored it pointedly. I sat back on the cushions and watched the familiar scene roll past. The schools in London and Paris had been fine enough, and I had delighted in my season at court, but the Chateau Lesconflair was the only home I had ever known, and I knew I would miss it terribly. I straightened my back and lifted my chin. I was not afraid, I told myself. And I swore I would not let him see me cry.