Destiny's Daughter (12 page)

"I can’t find his name in the ledger. Apparently he’s never been here before last night."

Thumbing through the book, Chase ran his finger down a page, stopping occasionally to study a notation. Suddenly he snapped his fingers. "Of course. Rousso."

"I don’t understand."

"Before Montagnet took this job, the governor had an aide by the name of Rousso. Poor fool was mysteriously shot while riding alongside a bayou."

"And Montagnet replaced him?"

Chase nodded. Flipping pages, they came to the name Louis Rousso. Beside his name was the number one hundred within a circle.

"What do you think?"

Chase frowned. "I can’t be certain. The one hundred probably means that Sara paid him one hundred dollars."

"A week? A month? A year?" Chase heard the desperation in her voice. "If this keeps up, they’ll bleed us."

"Exactly what they intend." While he studied the ledger, his mind raced. He knew how much Sara had recorded. How many men knew about these ledgers? They would offer mute testimony to the illegal demands of the very men entrusted with the public welfare.

Making a mental note to find out all he could about Montagnet, Chase closed the ledgers. It would be unwise to let Annalisa know just how concerned he was. As always, he kept his tone light and teasing. "Apparently Sara Montgomery learned her lessons well. To stay alive in this community, one must be prepared to pay the price."

Once more Annalisa wrapped her arms about herself, feeling a chill that even the growing warmth of the day could not displace. "What you say makes sense. But we still don’t know if she paid these leeches weekly, monthly, or annually. And I don’t think I’m capable of such duplicity. How can I go on bribing public officials simply to stay in this disreputable business?"

"Disreputable?" Chase’s smile widened. "Miss Montgomery, you do those women an injustice. They serve a great need in the community."

It was like him, she thought, to find humor in her discomfort. An unreasonable anger, at the injustice of it all, and especially at Chase, surfaced. "And I’m sure they’ve served your needs admirably."

"Most admirably."

He was laughing at her.

They both looked up as the door opened and Hattie Lee entered followed by a maid carrying a covered serving tray. Setting it on a small sideboard, she proceeded to set a round table with a linen cloth while Hattie Lee produced two table settings of fine china, crystal, and silver.

Looking up with a smile she said, "I figured since you two were busy with an order, I’d just bring you some breakfast."

"That isn’t necessary," Annalisa said. "Mr. Masters was just leaving."

"Before I have a chance to sample Thelma’s beignets? Not a chance," he said, watching as the blushing maid poured dark coffee and rich cream into two cups.

Holding out a chair Chase said, "Come on, Miss Montgomery. I can write an order better while I’m indulging myself."

"Something I’m sure you do often," she muttered, taking the proffered seat.

"As often as I can." With a wink at Hattie Lee, Chase settled himself comfortably across from Annalisa and proceeded to bite into the deep-fried doughnut sprinkled with powdered sugar.

Annalisa sipped the coffee and looked up in surprise. "This is wonderful."

"Café au lait," Chase said, watching her. "Half coffee, half thick cream. Thelma makes it the way I like it. Personally, I think we make the best coffee in the world right here in New Orleans."

While she drank, she watched Chase devour several beignets before tackling a meal of slabs of beef, potatoes, and eggs poached in heavy cream.

"Does our cook know all your favorite foods?" Annalisa didn’t even try to mask the sarcasm in her voice.

"Of course. And I bribe her into making them by bringing her French perfume and Belgian lace."

"Bribing again. Can no one escape it?"

He shrugged and reached for a thick slice of bread spread with peach marmalade. "For Thelma’s cooking, I would pay any price. I’d even be willing to sacrifice my virtue for just one loaf of her bread."

"Virtue." Annalisa bit into an egg and nearly forgot what she was saying. It was rich and creamy. Not at all like the greasy things she’d been forced to consume in the convent.

Chase watched her eyes soften as she took a second bite. "You were saying, Miss Montgomery?"

The beginnings of a smile touched the corners of her mouth. "It really is excellent food."

"Worth sacrificing my virtue for?"

The smile became laughter. "You? Virtue? I don’t believe it."

At his look of mock pain, she added, "I met you on a riverboat, remember? I know how you cheat to get what you want."

"You wound me, Miss Montgomery. All I did was change my luck."

"Yes. And the luck of all the other poor unsuspecting gamblers at the table. I would have to search long and hard to find any virtue in you."

Lifting his hands in a gesture of surrender, he said, "Go ahead, then, Miss Montgomery. You may search me." Laughter lurked in his eyes. "Take as long as you wish."

"Oh." Throwing down her napkin, she pushed from the table. "Must everything I say be twisted to mean something indecent?"

"Miss Montgomery." He caught her arm and turned her about. Instantly he felt the jolt. One minute he enjoyed teasing her like a young girl. The next, he wanted to crush her in his arms. He shook off the conflicting feelings and fought to keep it light. "Believe me, there is nothing indecent about searching my body. Pleasurable, maybe. Exciting, certainly. But never indecent."

For one brief moment she felt a tiny thrill of excitement curl along her spine as his warm breath feathered the hair at her temple. His eyes, though still laughing, held the promise of knowledge and something deeper—something mysterious.

She pulled herself from his grasp and circled the desk, needing to put something solid between them. She refused to acknowledge that she was trembling. "If you’re ready, Mr. Masters, I’d like to give you my order now."

He sat down at the table and poured himself another cup of coffee, absently munching a beignet. How could any woman be that beautiful and still manage to give the impression of a cloistered virgin? Powdered sugar covered his lower lip and he licked it away, then looked up to find Annalisa watching him. "Want to share?"

Before she could refuse, Chase came around the desk and offered her a taste of his beignet. Taking a bite, she closed her eyes and savored the rich confection.

"Heavenly. You have good taste."

He leaned forward and touched his tongue to the powdered sugar that dusted her upper lip. "Very good taste," he murmured.

Her eyes flew open. She stiffened. Shock, surprise jolted her.

"Yes. Very good taste." Grasping her shoulders, he lifted her to her feet and drew her firmly against him before covering her mouth with his.

Her protest died in her throat as she felt the warmth of his touch seep into her.

Her lips were sweeter than any confection. He was achingly aware of her soft, womanly body melting into his. As her resistance faded, he felt her mouth soften under his. Pressing his advantage, he changed the angle of his head and drew her even closer.

When at last he lifted his head, Annalisa was surprised to find her arms locked around Chase’s neck. Her heart was tripping over itself. A tiny pulse fluttered in the pit of her stomach. She felt strangely lightheaded. And her legs were none too steady.

Slowly, she surfaced. Her mind cleared. To cover her confusion, she sat down and gripped the edge of her desk. Her voice trembled. "Let’s get back to business." Looking down quickly she picked up a pen and dipped it in the inkwell. Her tone was frosty. "If you don’t mind, I’ll write the order. That way I’ll be certain to get the correct items."

Chase shrugged, fighting a surge of desire that left him reeling. He picked up a cup of coffee and noticed his hand tremble.

"Hattie Lee said you delivered goods here even during the war. How did you ever manage that?"

Lifting a napkin to his lips, he finished his coffee, then glanced up at her. His tone was ominous. "There are ways to accomplish anything, if you work at it."

"Did you have to resort to bribery and stealing? Or did you go even further? Murder maybe?"

Chase stood. The mood was shattered. The laughter was gone from his eyes. "I promised Hattie Lee I’d stop by the kitchen and visit with her and the staff before I leave. When you have the order ready, you can send it to me there."

When he was gone, Annalisa bit her lip. She’d gone too far. She had no right to ask him such things. While she’d been sheltered from the madness generated by the war between the states, others hadn’t been so fortunate. What Chase and the others had been forced to do to survive should not be judged by one who had been spared the hell. She was sorry she’d spoiled the moment.

Blotting out all thought of him, she began listing the goods she needed. At the sound of laughter from the kitchen, she paused. Chase Masters was a strange man. Charming. Debonair. Men enjoyed his company. Women, even sensible women like Hattie Lee, blushed and giggled and fell at his feet in worship. Annalisa had to admit he could make her laugh, even when her work and worries had her disturbed. Yet he could make her angrier than anyone she’d ever met. Stranger still, his simplest touch made her hot and cold all over, and made her knees weak. Certainly not ladylike behavior. Hadn’t the good sisters raised her to be better than that? He was a rogue and a villain, she reminded herself, and not an honorable man.

She thought of his eyes, so dark, so intense, yet always with a hint of laughter lurking in their depths. There were mysteries hidden there, just below the surface. Secrets. Probably none of them pretty.

Restlessly Annalisa wiped a strand of damp hair from her forehead and finished the last entries in her ledger. Her bookwork ate up hours of each busy day. Most days after lunch she had fittings for gowns, and practiced whatever lessons Hattie Lee or the others thought she needed to improve on. The lessons seemed endless.

"It is your eyes, chérie," Gabrielle complained, while the others nodded. "Stop staring at the floor. You must look a man in the eye and challenge him." Picking up a fan she lifted it to her face and added, "If you must look down, do it like this." She glanced down, fanned herself, fluttered her lashes, then looked up quickly, staring intently at Annalisa. The effect was seductive and a little bit haughty.

When she had mastered the art of flirting with her eyes, it was Francine’s turn to tutor. "Those little nun dresses must go. You have a good figure, and you must let our gentlemen see just enough to whet the appetite, but not so much they won’t pay to see more."

"I can’t bare my flesh." Annalisa turned away from her scrutiny. "I have been too many years learning about the sins of the flesh to forget my lessons."

"Sins? Aren’t we all sinners?" Delia asked in her childish voice. On her lap the kitten curled itself into a ball and promptly fell asleep.

"Yes, but. . ."

"And if we are all sinners anyway, why not at least enjoy some of our sins," the girl stated in perfect, childlike logic.

"I certainly enjoy being a sinner," Gabrielle said laughing.

"Especially when it’s with your sweet Doctor Jimmy," Francine said in her biting tone.

"Leave him out of it," Gabrielle hissed.

"Damnation!" Francine said in an amazing imitation of the doctor. "You do have a temper, woman."

"We were trying to teach Annalisa," Eulalie said, looking to Hattie Lee for help. If they weren’t careful this could turn into a name-calling, eye-scratching cat fight.

"Enough." The babble died suddenly as the rich contralto sliced through the noise. Holding up her hand, Hattie Lee called, "Silence."

No one moved. No one even breathed.

"Feel this," Hattie Lee said, handing Annalisa a length of silk.

"I don’t understand."

"Run it over your skin."

Annalisa did as she was told. The silk whispered over her wrist.

"Now do that again, and this time, do it slowly, while you savor the touch." As Annalisa obeyed, Hattie Lee said, "Now tell me how it feels."

"Soft. Oh, wickedly soft. Like a moth fluttering its wings. Like a gentle drop of rain. It makes my skin tingle for more."

Hattie Lee nodded, satisfied. "From now on you will wear silk against your skin. And sleep in gossamer, or nothing at all." While the others laughed knowingly, she went on, "The sheets on your bed will be made of satin. And you will allow the maids to lather your hair, and perfume your body. I think that soon you will begin to enjoy the pleasures of the flesh. You will learn that they are much more than the touch of a man’s hand, or the feel of his lips on yours. They are the enjoyment of those things that make us feel pampered."

The others gathered around Annalisa, explaining the many fine fabrics for her selection. There were lovely watered silks, rich satins, delicate organdies, and sheer cotton lawns.

"Peau de soie," Gabrielle sighed in her heavily accented French. "Skin of silk. Feel it, Annalisa. It is my favorite."

She dutifully accepted the fabric and had to admit that it was indeed like a silk skin. Her head swam with all the new things she was absorbing.

Often in the late afternoon Annalisa took to her bed for a quick nap. After only an hour or so she would find herself refreshed and ready for the rigors of another busy evening.

Walking to the parlor this day, Annalisa found the women, in various states of undress, lolling about, fanning themselves.

"Mon dieu, chérie," Gabrielle muttered, "how can you wear all those clothes and work on your ledgers in such heat?" Wearing a flimsy wrap of ivory voile, she reclined on a settee, looking cool and elegant.

"What will we work on today?" Eulalie was lying on the floor, wearing only a chemise and pantalettes. She had discovered that she enjoyed the role of teacher.

Francine groaned. "It’s too hot. Let’s forget the lessons for today. Please, Hattie Lee."

Delia nodded in agreement. She appeared to be completely wilted. The ever-present cat lay in her lap, licking its paws.

"Does Old Gray ever stick his claws in your flesh?" Annalisa asked.

Delia glanced up. "He’d never hurt me. I’m the only family Gray has. He’d been savaged by a pack of dogs when I found him." Touching a finger to the animal’s torn, lopsided ear, she murmured, "Old Gray is a scrapper. We know how to stick together. The only time he’ll ever use his claws is against the next dog that attacks." She scratched the cat’s ear and got a few loving licks in return.

"I don’t know how you can stand looking at him," Francine said in a haughty tone. "He’s the ugliest cat I’ve ever seen."

Delia cradled the cat in her arms and rubbed her chin over his fur. "You just see what’s on the surface. But it’s what’s underneath that matters. Old Gray is loyal and loving."

"And ugly."

"You just hate him because he’s male."

The others grew uncomfortably silent.

"That and the fact that he’s ugly."

In her anger Delia’s voice rose. "You slept with old Matthews. He’s so ugly his nose looks like a turnip."

Francine fixed her with a piercing look. "You’re right. I did sleep with Matthews. And he is ugly." Her voice lowered to a purr. "And I hate him almost as much as I hate Old Gray."

Hattie Lee looked up from the pattern she was studying. She had ordered the seamstress to adapt a Parisian fashion for one of Annalisa’s new gowns. One glance at the indolent group of women had her deciding quickly. Unless they were allowed a break, they would soon be at each other’s throats. Their spirits were as gloomy as the weather. "No lessons today. We will rest and conserve our energy until the sun goes down."

Laughing like children, the women relaxed and went back to fanning themselves while a maid brought in a tray of fruit and lemonade.

Annalisa fled the room, longing for an hour of privacy. She loved these women, who had become like family to her. Each day she learned more about them. Each day, despite their petty quarrels, she loved them more. But all her life she’d been forced to spend every waking hour surrounded by groups of females, living by a strict set of rules. Order and discipline were as much a part of her life as eating and sleeping. Now, for a blessed afternoon, she was free to do as she pleased.

Slipping out the back door, she crossed a wide lawn before entering a wildflower-strewn field. Beyond that lay a tangle of Cyprus and weeping willows, cool and inviting. Walking beneath the low hanging branches of a willow, she found herself on a sloping bank of the Mississippi. Sitting down, she spread her skirts out around her and watched the meandering path of a piece of driftwood as it followed the current in little whirls and eddies. Above her, sunlight filtered through the lacy leaves. Beneath her, the grass was cool and damp. Leaning her back against the rough bark, she felt as if she were all alone in the universe. This was her own little cocoon of privacy. There was no one here to tell her what to do, or when to do it.

Laughing, she suddenly pulled off her shoe and dipped a foot into the water. Cool. So cool. Slipping off the other shoe, she lifted her skirts and stood in the shallow water that lapped at the shore. Refreshing.

Seeing a leaf floating by, she speared it with her toe before dropping it back into the water and allowing it to continue its passage. Taking several tentative steps, she felt the water rise to her knees and lifted her skirts higher. Heavenly.

Dancing around, she kicked a spray of water high into the air and chuckled. Oh, what a feeling it was to be rid of her shoes and cooling her feet in the river.

Fighting a prickly feeling that she was being watched, she gave a careful look around. She really was alone and completely hidden from view. It was impossible for anyone to see her here. With a little laugh, she scurried up the bank and began removing her clothes. Hadn’t she always wanted to try splashing in the river? Hadn’t it been her private fantasy since she was a little girl in the convent? Why shouldn’t she grab this chance while she could? As the last of her garments dropped to the grass, she felt a little shiver of apprehension. Was it wicked to step naked into the water? Sister Marie Therese would think so. But then, the good sister had taken vows of chastity and obedience. Her life was dedicated to God, and lofty ideas, and dreams not of this world. Annalisa had no such restrictions. Laughing once more, she stepped hesitantly into the river and began walking until the water was waist high. Ducking down, she felt the cold water cover her breasts, splash over her shoulders, swirl around her, leaving her shocked and a little breathless.

Free. For the first time in her life, Annalisa felt completely free of restrictions. No lessons. No rules. She giggled. No clothes. Frolicking like a pup, she ducked beneath a wave and came up streaming water. She slicked her hair back and dipped beneath the water once more. Slipping out from the cover of the willow, she walked a little further. Mustn’t walk too far, she cautioned herself. She had no way of knowing if she could swim. But the sun beating down on her naked shoulders felt so good. Just a little further, and then she would head back to the cover of the willow branches.

The sun glistening off the water nearly blinded her. Closing her eyes, she stood very still, feeling the heat burning above her, the water chilling below.