Patricia Rice (22 page)

Disgruntled, Nicholas gestured toward the house while speaking to Michael. "Send the men back to the fields. Come join us when you're done. I'll see to our guests." The emphasis he placed on the last word was a sarcastic one.

Eavin nearly fainted when the motley band of pirates paraded up the river road with Nicholas in the forefront. Bareheaded and stockingless, Nicholas appeared more pirate than the elegantly dressed Lafitte beside him. Deciding the Louisiana climate had rotted her brain to let her fall into the bed of a man like that, Eavin took a deep breath and hurried to order more table settings. Knowing Nicholas, he had every intention of bringing the crew of pirates directly to his table.

For they were pirates, she had no doubts about that. She had heard enough of the illicit society living among and apart from the rest of New Orleans to recognize them when she saw them. The pirates had their own island, their own village and homes, but they freely walked the streets of New Orleans whenever the notion took them.
 

As she had discovered, the shops of the city were filled with the goods these men stole from Spanish ships. The slave auctions held right in the center of town were products of their illegal activities, although covered up by a charade of legality. As far as Eavin was aware, the pirates seldom dined at the tables of society, but she certainly wouldn't stand in their way if that was where Nicholas wished to place them.

To her relief, all but Lafitte remained in the yard to help themselves from the kitchen. Her curiosity greater than her fear, Eavin greeted Nicholas and his guest. She felt Nicholas's gaze studying her as she approached, but her modest morning gown apparently passed inspection.

"Eavin, Monsieur Jean Lafitte; Lafitte, my sister-in- law, Mrs. Eavin Dupré.
Ma chèrie
, if you will show the gentleman into the dining room, I will join you shortly. I would not shame you in my present garb."

Eavin avoided the look he sent her. She didn't wish to know whether it contained concern or possessiveness or some other emotion with which she wasn't equipped to deal. Just his presence reminded her of where she had been a few short minutes ago. She would have to erase that memory if she was to learn to deal with him normally.

The fact that she was being left in the company of a notorious pirate certainly made the task of forgetting everything else easier. As Eavin heard Nicholas striding to his chambers, she nervously indicated the room where breakfast would be served.

"
Monsieur
, please have some coffee with me. Breakfast will arrive shortly."

Lafitte made a gallant bow and gestured for her to go before him. "My pleasure,
madame
,"

Uneasily, Eavin played the part of hostess. After a night of sin it seemed only fitting that she should be entertaining a pirate for breakfast. She rather thought her life in poverty had been slightly more moral than in this elevated society of Nicholas's. But Lafitte played the part of the perfect gentleman, and she relaxed slightly as they struck up a conversation on the suitability of striped silks for fashionable wear, brought on by the rather bold pattern of the pirate's waistcoat.

When Nicholas returned wearing shoes and stockings and a waistcoat and coat, he raised an eyebrow at the sight of them chatting amiably over the breakfast table. He frowned when Lafitte winked, but Nicholas had created this situation, and he would have to deal with it.

"You had a message of some importance?" he asked irascibly as the maid hurried to pour his coffee.

"I would not ruin the lady's digestion by discussing such matters at table," Lafitte responded smoothly, passing the platter of croissants, grinning when Nicholas crumbled his into pieces.

"Then I will ask the lady to take her meal elsewhere. I haven't time to play games." Having found a solution for removing Eavin from Lafitte's company, Nicholas turned expectantly to her.

She serenely poured herself another cup of tea and met his gaze directly. "Then you shouldn't have asked me to come in here in the first place, Nicholas. My digestion is quite strong. Please continue."

Not for the first time, Nicholas considered strangling her, but when his gaze rested on Eavin's lovely throat, he remembered how it had tasted beneath his kisses, and he jerked his gaze away, turning it to his guest. "I doubt that anyone can keep secrets hereabouts. She will hear whatever you have to say soon enough. Spill it, Lafitte."

As it was, they had to wait until the trays of hot ham and hominy and rolls were served along with the crystal jars of jellies and bowls of strawberries and cream before they could continue their conversation. Eavin tried to imagine the pirates below digging into the succulent strawberries with their knives, but the image failed her.

"Do you lack for anything,
monsieur
?" she inquired.

Lafitte savored his coffee, threw a fuming Nicholas a grin, and leaned back in his chair. "Not now, madame. Could I only spirit you away from this place and home with me, I would not lack for anything ever. Nicholas is a most fortunate man."

That sounded a little too suggestive after the night they had shared, and Eavin shot Nicholas a nervous glance. His expression had become ominously bland.

"I am, at that," he responded equitably, sipping his own coffee. "For I have friends who know better than to insult me or my family. You will please expound upon your reason for being here,
monsieur
?"

Having been reduced from friend to
monsieur
, Lafitte reined in his Gallic penchant for scandal and became a man of business again. "My men tell me there are more than the usual number of British ships in the port at Jamaica. They do not seem to be carrying anything of value, but there are those among us who are eager to test their strength."

"Why tell me of this? Governor Claiborne should be the one to know, not that there is much he can do. We have no defenses. Merchant vessels and schooners cannot take on the royal navy."

Lafitte shrugged and slathered a croissant with jam. "Claiborne has a price set on my head. Why should I help him?"

Nicholas made an inelegant noise. "You set a higher price on his head in return. Posting that reward on our gallant governor really was a trifle rash,
mon ami
. You would do better to curry his favor by reporting British movements."

Lafitte scowled. "Do you have any idea how much it cost me to have those damned lawyers defend Pierre from Claiborne's courts? And even then I will have to break him out. There is no justice in these Americans. They do not understand the meaning of helping each other."

Unconcerned, Nicholas reached for another roll. "You mean they tend to be abysmally honest and not easily corrupted. They are not a very old country. Give them time. Meanwhile, we must make what we can of them. I will pass the information on to Claiborne on your behalf, but as I said, there is little that he can do. You have a larger fleet than the American navy. When the time comes, they will have little choice but to turn to you. Play your advantages while you can."

Lafitte brightened at that thought. "Of course, you are right,
mon ami
. You have the mind of a true Frenchman. It is a pity you must cultivate these crude newcomers. Although I must admit, I find your friend's American news sheets
très
amusant
. To read something other than
avertissements
for dog laxatives is refreshing."

Eavin coughed to hide her laughter and Nicholas gave her a sharp look, but a smile lingered in his eyes as he blandly dismissed the topic. "Daniel is merely an amusing acquaintance. We might make use of him someday. Eavin, is that Jeannette I hear?"

Excusing herself, Eavin left the room to see what was happening in the nursery. Nicholas immediately frowned at his guest.

"Now, what truly brings you here?"

The easy joviality left Lafitte's expression. "I have reason to believe your friend Raphael has returned. I thought you might wish to know."

Nicholas muttered a curse and glanced toward the doorway through which Eavin had departed. He should never have involved her in his life. Had he sent Eavin and Jeannette away, as had been his original intention, he would not be feeling so vulnerable to attack as he did now. On his own he could deal with Raphael. With a woman and a child to protect, he could only sit back and wait to see from which direction the attack would come.

"How do you know?"

"The woman he took with him is back. She is voluble in her displeasure, although she claims to know nothing of his whereabouts. I cannot believe she could find her way back here from Texas alone."

"Then it is possible he was here when the warehouse caught fire?"

Lafitte sipped his coffee, then nodded. "And when the owner was killed."

The curse Nicholas uttered would have made Eavin shiver had she heard it.

Chapter 19

"Michael and I are heading into the city for a few days. We will return in time to go to the Howells on Friday. I expect you to accompany me."

Eavin looked up from the cradle to stare at the man in the doorway. Nicholas had returned to the elegant autocrat she remembered from before Francine's death. Impeccably dressed, he glowered at her from a distance, as if they had never shared intimacies the prior night. She supposed it ought to be a relief that he could so easily dismiss what they had done, but it was too raw for her to dismiss.

Still, she was not the type to weep and cling, and Eavin merely nodded her understanding. In his eyes, she no longer had any reason to avoid society. It did not matter that in her own she felt even less suitable than before. She was not his mistress, but the fact that she could easily fall into that role made her more like her mother and less like the honorable wife a gentleman would require. She had some deep soul-searching to do before Nicholas returned.

Eavin had little time to miss his presence. The slight fever making Jeannette irritable, which she had attributed to teething, rose dangerously high as the evening approached. Anxiously, she sent messengers to the neighbors and to the physician in search of advice.

The physician never appeared, but several of the neighbors sent possets and remedies. During the course of the night, Eavin tried them all, but by morning the lively child of the previous day was limp and lifeless and so hot to the touch that Eavin began to panic.

She called for ice to be placed in basins of water and sponged the infant until her skin cooled and her eyes opened. She coaxed water flavored with sugar and strawberry juice down her whenever she was awake, then returned to sponging her when she slept. Annie fretted and attempted to nurse her when she could, but Jeannette seemed to have no strength for the effort. Panic building as the slaves recited the agonies of others who had died of the fever in this disease-prone climate, Eavin sent out more messengers in search of the elusive physician.

By the morning of the third day, Eavin could barely hold her head up. She operated on instinct only. She didn't know why the neighbors didn't respond personally to her cries for help, but she could imagine, if she tried. The vile rumors Alphonso had mentioned could have spread and multiplied. They could just fear the fever. Whatever the reason, she and Jeannette had been abandoned.

Cuddling a lifeless infant in her arms, placing water between her lips a drop at a time, Eavin realized she could not continue alone much longer. Handing the infant to Annie, she went down to Nicholas's desk and penned a message to his mother, sending it out by the carriage driver. Wherever Nicholas might be, Madame Saint-Just would undoubtedly find him.

And then she waited. Returning to the nursery and the monotonous tasks of changing sheets, sponge baths, and spoon-feeding, Eavin clung to the notion that Nicholas would come and make everything better. He had to. He would find the physician and force him to attend. He would know the right person to ask for a remedy. He would hold Jeannette and she would wake and babble his name.

When night fell, Eavin told herself that Nicholas could not possibly have received the message yet. There would be hours of delay while they located him. The distance between here and the city was great. She couldn't calculate the time it would take for him to arrive. But Nicholas would come.

She fell asleep rocking Jeannette in her arms. Annie woke her to put the infant in dry clothes. The moon was already falling toward the western sky, and still Nicholas didn't come.

He didn't arrive until dinnertime the next day, in time to prepare for the Howells' ball as planned. The sun was already falling into the river.

Eavin heard the clatter of his horse coming up the road, heard the slam of the door below, and waited. She reached for the sponge in the basin and brushed it over Jeannette's burning forehead. She had never felt so helpless in her life, and she no longer believed Nicholas could save the day. By now, even her tears had dried.

When he finally burst into the room, she didn't even lift her head to look at him.

Nicholas's strangled cry as he fell down on his knees beside the chair was the first thing that had roused Jeannette's interest in days. Her lashes lifted sleepily and she made a cooing sound that went straight through Eavin's heart. Then tossing restlessly in Eavin's arms, she drifted off again.

"My God, why didn't you send for me?" Taking the child from her, Nicholas brushed his hand across her brow, pushing back the limp locks of tangled dark hair and emitting a low groan when Jeannette didn't respond. "Where is the doctor? Why isn't anyone here? What do we do?"