Rapture in His Arms by Lynette Vinet Page B

wanted to buy Donovan from Horatio, I told you that.” At her nod, Edwin continued. “Well, I admit that I wanted Donovan because he was a good worker. I suppose I thought that if he belonged to me then I might somehow make up for my transgressions against the Irish at Drogheda. I knew I’d treat him better than Horatio, and I have, haven’t I, lad?” Edwin asked Donovan.
    “Aye, sir, aye, you’re a good man, for an Englishman,” Donovan said and meant his words.
    Donovan’s reply elicited a chuckle from Edwin. “Thank you, lad, I appreciate your honesty. And ’tis honest I’ll be with the both of you. When I arrived on Bermuda and saw you again, Donovan, ‘twas a sad time for me. My son had recently died. Jacob would have inherited Cameron’s Hundred one day. But now, well, I have no heir.” Edwin shot them a penetrating and probing look. “And I mean to have an heir. I’ve not worked the land all of these years to let my plantation be taken over by someone other than a Cameron after I’m gone, by someone not related by blood to my wife. I intend to leave my property and wealth to Jillian’s child.”
    “But, Edwin,” Jillian interrupted, “I have no child nor shall I. How can you say such—”
    “I say it because ’tis what I want to happen, woman! ’Tis what will happen if only you’d lie with Donovan and give me an heir. I brought Donovan to Virginia for that purpose. A child is what I’m after, Jillian, a child for you to love after I’m gone, an heir for Cameron’s Hundred, fathered by Donovan Shay. Don’t you understand what I want?” Edwin’s face had turned crimson. But now, the blood drained from his cheeks, and he suddenly looked very ill and very old—and quite ashamed of himself.
    Jillian’s breath died in her throat; she felt as if she would suffocate. Her gaze was centered upon Edwin, but she was more aware of Donovan, who didn’t seem inclined to move a muscle. Instead, she heard his voice as if from a great distance. “Aye, I understand what ye want, Mr. Cameron. Ye want to breed me with your wife like I am an animal.”
    “Oh, God, no! Not like an animal, lad, not like that—”
    “Aye, ’tis what ye want. Ye want me seed to make a child in her.” Donovan rose from his chair, and Jillian glanced up at him, seeing a restrained fury in his face. He leaned over the desk, dwarfing Edwin. “Do ye want me to throw her on the floor, Mr. Cameron, and hike her skirts? Should we make the child in your presence now?”
    “Nay, nay, Donovan,” Edwin quickly protested, his face alight with shame. “I didn’t mean to hurt either of you. I know I’m asking a great deal, but I’m desperate, now more so than ever. I—I haven’t much time left, and ’tis important that I know I have an heir. Believe me, Donovan, I’ve given much thought to this, and you are the man I want to father my wife’s child.”
    “Why choose me? Because I’m a slave and can’t refuse? Because I’m beholdin’ to ye for your kind treatment, for Goldenrod? ’Tisn’t enough, Mr. Cameron, not near enough!” Donovan spat out and tightly clenched his fists.
    “Then what do you want?” Edwin anxiously asked, clearly rattled and upset by Donovan’s defiance. “Name it and ’tis yours.”
    Before Donovan could respond, Jillian reared upward to her feet. Anger, hot and bright, coursed through every fiber of her being. Her temples throbbed from the shock of this absurd situation. These two men spoke about her as if the decision to impregnate her had been settled between them and all that was required was the matter of payment. Didn’t she count for anything? How could her own husband believe she’d consider doing such a sinful deed? Her voice cut through the air like a razor-sharp sword. “Edwin, whatever Donovan chooses means nothing to me because I won’t do this—this act. I can’t believe you think I would consider conceiving a child in such a way.”
    Edwin blinked, suddenly aware of