Read Gentleman's Trade Online

Authors: Holly Newman

Tags: #Historical Romance, #American Regency, #ebook, #new orleans, #kindle, #holly newman

Gentleman's Trade (23 page)

Hugh had stopped the first time he thought he heard Vanessa’s voice calling his name. He looked around, about to dismiss the sound as his wishful imagination, when the call came again. This time there was no mistaking the voice. He turned in time to see Vanessa stumble backward into the sugar barrels. His heart leapt in his throat when he saw the top barrel fall, certain it would crush her slender figure. Miraculously it missed her. He saw it rolling toward him but his mind only vaguely took it in as a threat—he was more concerned for Vanessa. Without conscious thought, he vaulted the barrel as it approached him and ran to her side.

Vanessa cringed and nearly hid her face in her hands when she saw the barrel hurtling toward Hugh. It was only tardiness, and a slim hope that he would escape, that kept her eyes from being totally covered. Nonetheless she was astounded when he jumped the barrel, but her astonishment increased when, looking past Hugh as he ran toward her, she saw his would-be attackers mowed down like tenpin by the runaway barrel! As Hugh reached her and his arms went around her, near hysterical laughter bubbled up within her.

“Vanessa, what are you doing here?” he cried, hugging her tighter as his heart raced at the memory of the falling barrel.

“Yo! Hugh!” called Trevor as he and a band of nine men came running, pounding down the docks.

“Trevor?” Hugh said, looking perplexed.

Vanessa hurriedly straightened and pulled herself out of Hugh’s arms. “Get those men!” she yelled, waving her hands in the direction of the keelboat ruffians.

“What?” Hugh asked, his eyes following the direction of her waving hands. When he turned, his eyes widened, and a broad smile split his face. He began to laugh, for there, picking themselves up off the ground and pulling a large sugar barrel off their leader, were the four would-be attackers of the previous week.

Trevor Danielson also recognized the men, and with clear presence of mind, he and his companions quickly surrounded them, rapiers and pistols at the ready. The leader of the attackers snarled ferally at them all, but he was helpless to fight his way out or encourage his gang to do so, for the rolling sugar barrel had landed squarely on his leg.

Hugh turned back toward Vanessa, who was now standing as calmly and elegantly as she could in a dirt-streaked frock with a bedraggled, broken hat feather swaying in front of her eyes. The only signs of her remaining agitation were the rapid pulse visibly throbbing in her neck, and her over bright, feverish eyes. “What’s going on here? How did you know?”

“I was told Mr. Wilmot was displeased with your meddling in his affairs and intended to—intended to—” she gulped, the words catching in her dry throat

“Kill me?” Hugh asked incredulously.

She nodded miserably.

“I would not have thought that of him. It seems I greatly underestimated the man. But how did you find out?”

Vanessa looked down at her hands. “I’d rather not say,” she said softly. She looked up at him swiftly, entreaty evident in her eyes. “Let’s just be thankful I knew.”

“But . . .”


Mon
Dieu,
we have missed all the excitement!” Paulette’s voice was heard to lament to Adeline. Behind them trailed a couple of constables who, taking in the situation, passed them by to join Trevor and his group. “I should have left you to fetch Mr. Danielson and the constables yourself, while I joined Vanessa,” she said petulantly as they approached Vanessa and Hugh.

“But then you didn’t know what was going on,” Adeline protested laughingly, then turned to face her sister, her face suddenly sober. “Are you all right? What happened?”

“I’m fine, I just tripped,” Vanessa assured her.

“And inadvertently stopped me from being attacked by knocking over a sugar barrel and sending it rolling into these men, knocking them over like so many wooden pins!”

“It almost knocked you over as well,” Vanessa reminded him, shuddering slightly at the thought.

“Ah, but in battle there are many times one must leap over man-made and natural obstacles.” He laughed. “I believe I jumped that barrel without even thinking about what I was doing.”

Paulette clapped her hands. “Oh, that I could have seen all! Our Vanessa, a heroine!”

“Please,” Vanessa protested, “spare me.”

“Hugh!” called Trevor, striding toward him.

Hugh bowed briefly to the ladies before joining his friend. “What have you discovered?” he asked softly.

“It is as Adeline relayed to me when she came to get me. Wilmot’s behind this, as he was on the attack last week. These men are so concerned that they not take all the blame that they are falling over each other to confess. They’ve said some other interesting things that have the constables’ eyebrows raised, too.”

“Hmm— I wonder if we might not turn this entire venture to our advantage,” Hugh mused, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“What do you mean?”

“While the constables take these four into custody, let’s you and I pay a little visit to Russell Wilmot,” he suggested.

“You have something in mind?” Trevor asked.

“Yes, I believe I do.”

Trevor smiled and nodded, his eyes lighting with unholy amusement.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Vanessa paced the spacious entrance hall. It had been two hours since they parted company with the gentlemen. They said they had some final details to clean up, then they would join the ladies at their home. Vanessa had quickly bathed and changed clothing in anticipation of their arrival, only to be left kicking her heels as the hands of the grandfather clock in the hall ticked off the passing minutes.

Hearing of the impending threat to Hugh had been the catalyst to crack the stubborn high walls of her pride. Her headlong rush toward the dock had sent them crumbling to her feet. She loved Hugh, and it didn’t matter where they lived. So long as she could live with him, she would be content. It was ridiculous to imagine he would sever all his ties with England to remain with her. He had just given seven years of his life to his country and could not be expected to abandon his allegiance easily. Besides, what would he do in New Orleans? He was obviously not a man given to playing the gentleman of leisure.

Fool!
she thought angrily. She had been a complete fool. She only hoped the embrace she received on the docks was indicative of his true feelings, and that he’d give her the opportunity to make amends.

“Vanessa,” called her mother from the parlor door, “come and sit down and have a cup of tea before you wear a hole in your shoes from all that pacing. They’ll be here when they can, dear.”

Vanessa rubbed her hands together nervously. “I know, I know, but I can’t relax. There is so much I would say, so much I would have him understand!”

Her mother smiled at her sympathetically. “I know, dear, and I’m sure you’ll have the opportunity. But you’re not doing yourself a bit of good by working yourself into a lather.”

A faintly hysterical note tinged Vanessa’s answering laugh. “I know,” she began ruefully. “What’s that?”

From out in the street came the faint sounds of male revelry. Vanessa crossed to the door and opened it. Astonishment colored her face, for coming down the street on the shoulders of their fellows came Mr. Talverton and Mr. Danielson! She went outside and stood on the edge of the banquette as they approached. There was laughter and snatches of bawdy songs emanated from the group that drew bright pink color to her cheeks.

Hugh looked up and saw her. He tapped the shoulders of the gentlemen who carried him to signal he wanted down. When he did so, the other gentlemen became aware of Vanessa’s presence, and the lilting bawdy tunes died in their throats. Vanessa tried hard to hide her amusement and maintain a forbidding glare at the group.

Hugh was not fooled by her expression and sauntered over to her. He grabbed her around the waist and holding her high, twirled her off the banquette.

“Hugh! What are you doing!” Vanessa exclaimed, blushing furiously. “Put me down!”

“Not until I claim the conquering hero’s reward,” he exclaimed happily.

“What?” she began, only to have her lips suddenly caught in a bruising kiss that robbed her of breath and sent the tingling rippling through her veins. The world spun dizzily on its axis then slowly righted as he gently set her down again.

A smattering of applause and hoots of encouragement brought her sharply back to reality. She ducked her face down to hide the deep red blush that warmed her cheeks. “Come inside and tell us all,” she said, pulling on his arm.

He lifted her up to set her back on the banquette, then turned to salute the crowd of men behind them whose numbers seemed to have swelled from the size of the original group down on the docks. Trevor crossed to his side and clapped him on the back before he, too, waved to the jovial crowd.

“We’ll see you tomorrow, Talverton,” someone yelled.

“Yes, and see if you know what you’ve gotten yourself into!” called out another to accompanying laughter from the group.

“What do they mean?” asked Vanessa.

“Sh-h,” hushed Hugh as he waved farewell, smiling broadly.

Vanessa stamped her foot. “Don’t you sh-h me. I saved you today. I have a right to know,” she declared.

“Yes, my love, you do, and you will, soon,” he said consolingly as the three of them turned to enter the house.

She was delighted by the endearment and was moved to make some comment in return when she looked up and noted the entire household seemed to be standing in the doorway, waiting. She clamped her lips firmly together, the twin red flags flying again in her cheeks.

Trevor went eagerly to Adeline’s side, placing his arm around her waist as he bent down and whispered in her ear. She glowed with pleasure, and they turned to walk slowly toward the parlor. Everyone followed them, smiles all around.

Hugh held Vanessa back from entering the room. Grasping both her hands in his, he solemnly looked down at her. “I have been every kind of fool there is,” he began gruffly.

“No, no!” she protested, “It is I—”

He held his finger up to her lips to halt her outpouring of impassioned words. “Hush, my love,” he murmured, then his hand fell away from her face and slid down her arm in a gentle caress. “I need your help,” he said earnestly. “I am buying a business here in New Orleans, and I know I’m going to need assistance in acclimating myself so I don’t offend.”

“What?” began Vanessa.

“Now wait, I must warn you it is likely to be arduous labor and take all of your energies to turn me into a proper American.”

Her eyes shining, she stared up at him, “Oh, a seven-days-a-week job, I’m sure, with very long hours will do.”

He nodded solemnly, “A great many long, private hours, I’m certain.”

Doubt clouded her eyes briefly and she bit her lip. “Are you sure, very sure? For I know now I would come with you wherever you chose to live.”

He smiled down at her, raising a gentle finger to trace the faint frown line in her brow. “Very sure. But actually,” he continued, “I don’t have much choice, for I don’t believe in perpetual absentee management.”

She pulled away from him slightly. “What are you talking about?”

“You are now looking at the owner of numerous warehouses down on the battery.”

“What!”

“We advised one Mr. Russell Wilmot of the capture of his confederates and their subsequent volubility in regard to his actions. We convinced him he might be wise to sell out and leave town before the constables arrive to instigate his own arrest.”

Vanessa raised her hands to her lips in delighted surprise, straining to keep her laughter in check.

“After a bit of, ah, persuasion, he decided that was his best course of action and speedily signed over his assets to me. I, in turn, wrote a letter to my bank, which I hand delivered in Mr. Wilmot’s company, saw him paid, and sped him on his way.”

She clapped her hands excitedly. “Oh, ’tis rich, I vow!”

He smiled down at her and shook his head. “Not as rich as I feel right now,” he said ardently, sensuous flames leaping in his eyes.

Within Vanessa a strange fluttering sensation tickled her stomach, followed by the tingling this man’s nearness always seemed to promote. She looked at him shyly, then a smile curved her lips upward, radiating her face. On tiptoe, she leaned toward him, tilting her face up.

Her name, a soft moan on his lips, was all she heard before his mouth captured hers in a searing kiss.

Behind them, Paulette opened the parlor door, for everyone was anxious to congratulate Hugh and was curious as to his failure to follow them into the room. She blinked, and shut it quickly, leaning against it.

“Je suis tres stupide,”
she remonstrated herself softly while hitting her forehead with the heel of her hand. She looked at the rest of the assembled company expectantly waiting. She dimpled at them and winked. “Me, I think I shall do some embroidery. It may be a long while before we hear the tale from Mr. Talverton. At least now he shall be around to tell it, no?”

A NOTE FROM HOLLY

The contredanse
Hull’s Victory
was an actual American dance of the period. The remainder of the dances mentioned are the work of Mr. John Hertz, at one time the Dancing Master for the
Friends of the English Regency.
Mr. Hertz’s choreography was based on his extensive research of the period. I once asked John to tell me how faithful to the period his dances were. He likened them to a Renoir painting, bearing the beauty and the spirit of the subject rather than its actuality. I like his description, for it explains my approach toward writing historical novels.

When asked to write a book placing a character from Regency England in the United States I knew immediately that place had to be New Orleans. I had read old journals of people who had visited New Orleans at this time and they were so evocative of the sights, sounds and smells that I knew the city could be both disconcerting and exciting to a stranger. It was fun presenting New Orleans to Hugh Talverton.

If you have read
A Heart in Jeopardy
Hugh Talverton’s name might sound familiar. In
A Heart in Jeopardy
he is mentioned as a friend of Nigel Deveraux. Most of my books and stories mention people found in other books. Once a character presents themselves to me, they stay with me.

As hard as I try to present a clean manuscript, some mistakes get away from me. If you discover a mistake, please let me know by emailing me at [email protected].

If you liked this book, please leave a review and check out my other historical romances. Here is a short description with links to my other works:

Honor’s Players

Known as the Shrew of London for her sharp tongue, Elizabeth Monweithe’s family despaired she would never marry. However, when Justin, Viscount St. Ryne, asked for Elizabeth’s hand in marriage, her family wept for joy. Elizabeth shrieked in fury. Poor Elizabeth hadn’t the faintest notion that St Ryne had a curious plan designed to tame her, a plan that would tangle their hearts and teach both arrogant husband and quick-tempered wide a thing or two about love and marriage!

The Heart’s Companion

Rumor branded the Earl of Royce as the Devil’s Disciple, a man every self-respecting woman spurned. But Jan Grantley found spurning him difficult for the Devil’s Disciple refused to live up to his name, instead playing the perfect gentleman until even Jane’s legendary reserve melted.

The Waylaid Heart

Snubbed! Intrigued by the novelty, Sir James Branstoke followed the widow Cecilia Waddley. He first followed her in curiosity, then to save her from herself when he realized she was on the trail of a murderer who would have no compunction about making her his next victim.

A Heart in Jeopardy

For Leona Leonard and Nigel Deveraux duty to one’s family went without question. But when Leona rescues a Deveraux family member from kidnappers and the kidnappers swear vengeance, Leona’s and Nigel’s concepts of duty clash in this lively Regency mystery romance.

The Rocking Horse (A Regency Christmas Novella)

The handmade toy was Lord Tarkington’s gift for his young daughter. But his labor of love touched the heart of a lady -- who knew she had found her heart’s desire.

Perchance to Dream (A Regency Short Story)

When Andrew Montrose dreamed of a mermaid the Caribbean locals said he was cursed to die by the sea. Andrew scoffed at their superstitions and beliefs -- then he saw her.

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