Patricia Rice (30 page)

"You must be drunk. Nicholas, stop that..." Whatever she meant to say disappeared from her tongue as he closed his mouth over hers and began to ravish it thoroughly. Eavin arched against him, pulling his head closer, releasing the desire kept pent up with these days of abstinence.

"So the drunken lout story has spread already," Nicholas murmured as he turned his attention to the vulnerable hollow of her throat. "I am not so fond of the results of hard liquor that I mean to try it often,
ma chérie
. You have no need to worry of that. I am only eager to make up for lost time. Open to me, Eavin. I have need of you right now."

"Nicholas, not here! Not now. Someone will come," she protested even as she lifted her hips to accommodate his roving hands.

"They can't get in,
ma petite
. You need only to hush those delectable cries and no one will know the better. I thank the gods that you are no lady, for I am discovering numerous ungentlemanly urges."

"Discovering?" The sarcasm was modified by her kisses as Eavin parted his shirt and found his bare chest.

"Of course, Irish, do you doubt me?" Pushing himself up so she could see the sparkle of his eyes, Nicholas grinned. As he unfastened his buttons, her eyes widened.

Eavin stored her doubts for another time. He hadn't come to her like this without a reason. The stories she had heard of the drunken dinner party needed further explanation, but the need was too great for any other thought than how to get around their clothes. With impatience she helped him pull at her skirt and petticoat, and when his hand finally found her, she muffled her cries against his coat.

* * *

"I think we should give a soiree,
ma chérie
." Nicholas straightened the lace at Eavin's throat, smoothing the fabric over her breasts with definite pleasure as he did so. "It is time we returned everyone's kind hospitality."

Eavin smacked his hand away and reached into her tumbled hair for some fragment of the pins that had once been there. She glanced at him anxiously. "It is not too soon? It has not quite been a year..."

Nicholas brushed her objection away with a gesture of his hand. "We will celebrate July Fourth. It is the patriotic thing to do. No one could object. You will come to understand we are much more generous in our ways than your countrymen."
 

He did not tell her of his dual purpose in this celebration. If gossip was spreading all the way to New Orleans about his relationship with Eavin, she would soon be ostracized by the society he meant for her to live in. He would not have her relegated to a backstreet row house like Belle, not if there were any way to prevent it.

Her anxiety was replaced by a frown of concentration as she contemplated the logistics of coordinating a large party in two weeks' time while ruthlessly pulling her hair into a tight roll.

"You will have to provide a list of whom to invite," she replied absently through a mouthful of pins.

Smiling at her distant expression, Nicholas wrecked all her handiwork by shoving his hands into her hair and bringing it tumbling down about her shoulders again.

"I must find you a lady's maid skilled in dressing hair. It is a sin to wear it hidden."

Eavin's astonishment melted beneath his kiss. As practical as she tried to be about this arrangement, she could not help her romantic nature from succumbing to Nicholas's practiced charm. She could almost believe his flattery when he took her in his arms as he did now, kissing her lovingly even after he had taken what he wanted. Closing her eyes and holding him close, she gladly accepted what he offered.

The coming ball was another matter entirely. Eavin frantically began making lists as soon as Nicholas took himself off to the fields. She dashed a note off to Mrs. Howell, and by the next morning she and Lucinda were in the
petite salle
with her, adding their notes to the already lengthy lists.

The names Nicholas provided brought a moan of envy to Mrs. Howell's lips. "Marigny? Surely he will not come so far. And Villere? Eavin, these are people we could not hope to meet in New Orleans. Mr. Howell works with Governor Claiborne, and we can expect the best Americans, but this list is the cream of Creole society. And Nicholas has both on here. Even if he knows all these people, the Creoles will not come if they know the Americans are invited."

Eavin looked up from her desk with curiosity. "You have entertained American and French and Spanish. I know there are differences, but they seem to get along well enough in your house. Why should Nicholas have any difficulty?"

"It is not Nicholas, it is these people." Mrs. Howell waved the invitation list. "The people you have met at our dinners have been neighbors and people who curry some favor with the government. Nicholas has been very helpful in getting us accepted by people like the Dubois. But the Creoles on this list are too wealthy and powerful to have any need to curry favors. They do not even acknowledge our existence."

"Because you are American? How extremely odd." Eavin took the list and scanned it. She choked as she came to several names toward the bottom. "I see Nicholas is being extremely democratic in his hospitality. You will not only be dancing with the elite of Creole society, but with the best pirates, too."

Lucinda gave a half scream and grabbed the list, finding the notorious names easily. Giggling, she handed the paper back to her mother. "I think this is one Fourth of July celebration that will bring its own fireworks. I have heard Jeremy talk, Mama. Nicholas is considered quite a catch in all circles. Every family on that list with a daughter to present will be here, regardless of the company. I think this shall be the most exciting night of my life."

"I think your father will insist you stay home if there are to be pirates," Mrs. Howell sniffed as she glared at the offending names. "Governor Claiborne is furious with those bandits."

"You and Lucinda will be almost the only ones I know. Please do not abandon me." Eavin sent a reassuring look to the crestfallen girl before Mrs. Howell looked up.

Satisfied with this excuse, the older woman nodded curtly. "I shall explain it like that to my husband. We could not let a good neighbor down."

The preparations went smoothly, if often hectically. It was difficult enough to undertake the massive housecleaning and extensive refurbishing and repairs the old house needed before it could be presentable to such a large assembly, but the constant stream of visitors often took hours out of every day.

Eavin began to dread the times Nicholas came riding in from the fields to hastily wash and change into clean linen, for that meant someone had warned him that a boat or a carriage or horses were arriving. Had he been the idle Creole gentleman he wished to portray, his overseer would be out in the fields and Nicholas would be lounging over lemonade and cards in the salon. Playing two parts had to be wearing on him, and Eavin wondered at his excess of amiability.

But when it became apparent that the constant stream of visitors often had unwed daughters to introduce, Eavin remembered Lucinda's words, and she didn't know whether to sigh with exasperation or be afraid.
 

Nicholas was unfailingly polite to all, and he made certain that she was introduced as Jeannette's aunt and treated with all due respect, but she could not see him taking any interest in the lovely young things fluttering their fans and eyelashes at him. Actually, she didn't think any of the young women lifted their eyes long enough to look at him. They seemed determined to study the floor for any speck of dust or to locate their reflections in the polish, Eavin wasn't certain which. Only the daughters of the Americans were bold enough to flirt, but Nicholas didn't seem to notice that they were doing so.

It took nearly two weeks of this behavior before Eavin conquered her qualms and dared to broach the subject. She couldn't do it in the bright light of the supper table, when he might see the fear in her eyes. She waited until one night in bed, after their lovemaking, when it was too hot to sleep and they both lay contentedly awake in each other's arms.

"Nicholas, do you mean to find a wife among these girls that keep parading through here?"

Smoking one of the cheroots he had taken up since Michael had sent him a box, Nicholas chomped the end, lifted a rakish eyebrow in her direction, then removed the tobacco from his mouth and set it aside. "Ahh, the plump little one in the red stripes has you worried, does she? She's ripe as a peach, but don't you think that high- pitched giggle would drive me to distraction after a while? Do you think Jeannette would learn to imitate it?"

Eavin curled her fingers in the fine hairs of his chest and tugged. "The good Lord knows I may be giving you too much credit, but I should hope you could do better than that."

Nicholas winced, grabbed Eavin's hand, and pushed her back to the mattress. Leaning over her, he nibbled at her throat and ears. "Do you tire of me so quickly that you wish to marry me off?"

"Never, but Nicholas . .." Eavin grabbed his hair as he bent to bite at her breast.

"Let us hear no more of it then." With deliberation Nicholas sank his teeth into the tender flesh just enough to make her writhe beneath him. The topic was not one he wished to consider, but neither could he explain his reasons for opening up the sacred privacy of his home to these hordes of guests. It would only worry her to know he did it for her sake and her sake alone.

The night of the ball, Eavin stood in front of Nicholas's mirror and grimaced at her reflection. She wasn't at all certain that was the real Eavin Dupré standing there in a wisp of silver silk that revealed more of her breasts than any man should see. Violet ribbons tied beneath her breasts only served to emphasize the narrowness of her bodice, but Nicholas had assured her that the gown was a model of propriety by current standards.
 

She dubiously eyed the matching ribbons threaded through her ebony curls by the Howells' experienced hairdresser. Wisps and tendrils already escaped about her face and throat. She shuddered to think how it would look in a few hours.

"This place isn't big enough to entertain overnight guests," Eavin fretted as she twisted herself nervously in an attempt to finish fastening the back of her gown.

Nicholas took the task from her hands, competently arranging all the tapes and hooks until the silk lay smoothly in a thin layer over the fine muslin of her chemise. Both materials were so thin as to make Eavin nearly naked. His fingers tested the fabric as he caressed her through her bodice.

"They are aware this is essentially a bachelor establishment. Carondelet will hold the families wishing to stay and visit. The gentlemen wishing to stay can go to the
garçonnière
. Do not worry that I will let anyone interfere with our arrangement. I know how to be discreet."

Eavin shivered as Nicholas found her breast and teased it into responding to him. She bent her head back against his shoulder and relaxed into his arms, letting the strength of his body flow into hers. She needed that reassurance before facing the night ahead.

"I do not worry about you, Nicholas. I worry about myself. I'm not used to mixing in society, and although I've been working with Mrs. Howell, I still don't know enough French to converse intelligently. Sometimes I really do think it would have been better if you had just left me to be Jeannette's nurse."

"No." His reply was firm and irrevocable as he swung her around to face him.
 

Rather than offer flattery, Nicholas attempted to explain. "This United States is made up of many sorts of people. When my daughter is old enough to go out into society, I wish it to be in one that will accept her aunt for who she is and not for where she came from. It is a small thing, Eavin, but it has to start somewhere." Hesitantly, studying her expression for some sign of understanding, he continued, "I have already lost a brother and sister to the constraints of society. I would not lose more."

The sound of a carriage arriving below and Clemmie calling to one of the maids warned they had dawdled too long. Eavin wanted to know more, but when Nicholas kissed her cheek and set her gently aside, she knew the discussion was ended for now. There would be time enough to finish it later. Touching his jaw, where only a thin line gave evidence of the earlier injury, Eavin pulled his head down so she could kiss him, and then lifting her skirt, she fled the room to the chaos below.

* * *

The violins and flute could be heard over the dull roar of conversation as Eavin escaped the grand
salle
with Lucinda for the less crowded hall and
petite salle
, where conversational gatherings could be found.

"I cannot believe I just met the mythical Bernard Marigny!" Lucinda was chattering excitedly. "The tales I have heard about his wealth… why, he was just as charming as Nicholas."

Unfortunately, the woman with him had not been, Eavin mused as she greeted one guest and gestured for a maid to serve another. Marigny's haughty companion had spewed a river of angry French and flounced off, leaving Eavin feeling smaller than the lowliest slave. She had not understood the words, but she had understood the gist of her tone.
 

Monsieur Marigny had to shrug and apologize for his companion's refusal to be introduced to an American. Eavin could only be thankful that Lucinda had been too excited to understand the exchange.

The late arrival of another boat load of guests from Carondelet brought another influx of chatter and gay laughter. All the doors and windows facing the gallery had been opened to circulate air through the crowded rooms, but the July heat and humidity easily won any battle with the night breeze. The torches burning along the railing outside to fend off mosquitoes sent a tarry odor drifting in with the newcomers, and Eavin fanned it away as she stepped forward to welcome the guests. She froze as the crowd shifted and two familiar formidable figures emerged.