Ask a Shadow to Dance (12 page)

Someone touched his arm. “I’m Lisette’s aunt, Portia Morgan. I’m pleased to meet you, Doctor Stewart.”

Another name from the past became flesh before his eyes.

Lisette stammered, “Aunt P-Portia? I-I, that is— I’m so, so sorry— I forgot.” She blushed like a schoolgirl.

Portia smiled. “It’s all right, child.” Her smile faded. “Oh, dear.”

“Dear Lord, no.” Lisette’s face paled.

“What’s wrong?” David squinted against the glare of the windows, then recognized the man he’d seen on the boat. He didn’t have to ask Lisette who he was. Andrew Westmoreland. He took her hand and gripped it firmly.

“Doctor Stewart, you don’t understand. Andrew has threatened—”

David looked straight into her eyes, then smiled, hoping to calm her. “I promised you wouldn’t be hurt again. Trust me.”

Westmoreland approached them. “Take your hands off my stepmother.”

“Only if she asks me to.” David kept his voice quiet and deadly serious. It cut through the silence that had settled on the hotel. Every person in the lobby had stopped to stare.

Lisette took a step forward, still holding David’s hand. “This is none of
your business, Andrew. Doctor Stewart treated me last night after you struck me.” A murmur of shock and surprise traveled through the crowd.

David felt her hand trembling in his. He had to admire her courage, facing an attacker so confidently.

Andrew’s face twisted with anger. “You persist with these lies? In front of strangers? We shall deal with this privately. I insist that you come with me. Now.”

“No.” Lisette lifted her chin. “I’m going with Doctor Stewart. He feels that I need further treatment.”

Portia stepped forward. “That is exactly what she needs. Doctor, if you’ll accompany us home, you can administer whatever treatment my niece requires.”

Andrew glared at Portia until she gasped with what David interpreted as fright.

“This woman is my stepmother and, in time, will be my wife,” Andrew said. “She is my responsibility. Thank you for your offer of assistance, Doctor, but no. Whatever treatment Lisa needs, I will personally see that she receives it.” His expression left no doubts as to the type of treatment he had in mind.

Saying that Lisette would be his
wife made David shake with anger. It took everything he had to control the rage tearing through him.

“She is my patient by her own choice—therefore, my responsibility. Let’s go, Mrs. Westmoreland.”

David took a step back, intending to lead Lisette to the other exit. Portia followed, trembling visibly. Everyone in the lobby witnessed the altercation without interference.

Andrew lunged at David without warning. Before he could react, Andrew’s fist slammed into David’s jaw, sending a bolt of pain through his head, almost blinding him. David struggled to keep his balance and his eyes on the bastard, but his legs struck the edge of the marble fountain and he fell backward, into the water. Those watching reacted with shock and fear. Women screamed and ran. Men moved forward as though entering the fray.

When David tried to get up, his right foot slid on the slippery marble and buckled beneath him. Pain shot through his ankle. He slumped over the edge of the fountain, trying to pull himself out. Westmoreland knocked him backward again. There were screams and shouts all over the lobby. Two men grabbed Andrew and pulled him away from the fountain. A uniformed man came running from the front desk.

Andrew managed to throw off the men holding him. With wild rage flashing in his eyes, he grabbed Lisette and dragged her away. Portia, weeping, ran after Lisette. It all happened so fast—

“David! Help me!” Lisette struggled in vain to free herself.

David tried to pull himself upright, but his ankle refused to bear weight.
“Lisette!”

“David!” Her voice, strident, hysterical, was the last thing he heard ……
b
efore the ducks panicked and scattered. Feathers flew and water splashed everyone standing nearby. A man from the front desk ran to see what had spooked the birds—and who was sitting in the fountain!

Joe got there first. “David, you’re back! I was standing there talking to you and—”

“Damn it, Joe! She was here! Right here! That bastard knocked me into the fountain and dragged her away before I could stop him.” He tried to stand, but his ankle, already twice its normal size, sabotaged his efforts.

Joe was helping David up just as the manager arrived, demanding to know what had happened. Joe took a bill from his pocket without looking at it and shoved it at the manager, offering to pay any damages. The manager looked at the money then laughed. “It’s going to be a lot more than a dollar. Don’t leave this lobby.” He instructed a bellhop to watch them, summoned the keeper of the ducks to see to their safety,
then went straight to the telephone at the main desk.

“Joe, I have to get back. The ducks weren’t in the fountain. They vanished, and then Lisette was there. The shops were gone and the elevators. Don’t you see, Joe? It’s true. Everything we thought was too incredible—it’s all true! I have to get back to Lisette’s time. There’s no telling what Westmoreland will do to her. I promised she wouldn’t be hurt—I promised.” David choked on the words. How could he keep that promise now?

Dripping wet, his ankle throbbing mercilessly, dozens of people staring with disbelief and disdain, David knew it was useless.

He’d lost her.

Chapter Six

“David!” Lisette fought Andrew’s grip, but there was no loosening his hands from her arms.

Andrew shook her hard, then spoke directly into her ear. “If you know what’s good for you—and your father—you’ll shut your mouth right now!”

She glared at him, hatred seething inside her. “Make all the threats you like. If you hurt any person in my family, you’ll pay for it. I swear it on my mother’s memory.”

Andrew’s eyes glazed over for a moment and his fingers, digging into the soft flesh of her upper arms, loosened.

Aunt Portia appeared suddenly with a large man who lifted Andrew almost off the floor by the shoulders of his coat.

“No one handles a lady that way in the Peabody!” His voice boomed through the lobby.

“Thank you, sir.” She grabbed Aunt Portia’s hand and hurried toward the far entrance. Lisette knew the man detaining Andrew would not release him until they were safely away. If only they could find David!

Aunt Portia cast about for Seth, motioned for him to come quickly. The carriage pulled up beside them within a minute.

They had only seconds to get away before the Peabody employee was forced to release Andrew. Inside the carriage, she rubbed her throbbing arms. She knew without looking they must be bruised, dark and ugly.

Aunt Portia stared straight ahead, preoccupied. Lisette saw distress in her eyes and in the way she sat, rigid as a poker, but something else too. Anger? Determination? An odd mixture of emotions struggled in her twisted expression.

Seth had to pull up at the intersection to allow another carriage to pass. Without warning, Andrew ran up to the carriage and grabbed the horses’ reins. He breathed hard, still angry, and seized Lisette’s arm again. “How dare you—”

“Don’t touch my niece.” Aunt Portia’s voice was so soft now it was scarcely audible.

“Stay out of this, you old biddy.
No one humiliates me—”

“I shall do more than humiliate you if you do not remove your hand from my niece.”

Something in Aunt Portia’s expression or tone of voice made an impression on Andrew. He stepped down from the carriage, mute and seething with rage.

“Seth, we are ready to go home now,” Portia said quietly.

“Yessum.” Seth retrieved the reins, then coaxed the horses into a brisk walk. They left Andrew standing in the street, scowling.

A wave of relief rushed through Lisette. She put her arms around Aunt Portia. Words weren’t necessary. She knew Lisette loved her.

At home, Aunt Portia waited on the front steps, watching for Andrew, until Lisette was safely inside, then she stepped inside and bolted the door securely. After giving Seth instructions to build up both fireplaces in the parlor and to tell his mother to keep Jacob upstairs for a while longer, she addressed Lisette with a kind smile.

“We must tend to your bruises before they get any worse.”

“I’m all right, Aunt Portia. What I’d love to have is a cup of tea.” Lisette tried to ignore the throbbing, not wanting to distress Aunt Portia any more than she had already.

Aunt Portia took a deep breath.
“Of course. What’s done is done. I’ll be back in a minute. You rest now.”

In the parlor, Lisette sat on the green and gold floral settee, which had belonged to her grandmother, Cecelia Morgan. Aunt Portia had always called it the courting couch. Leaning back, Lisette tried to rest. Within minutes, Aunt Portia was back with the tea. She handed Lisette a cup and saucer, filled it with fragrant tea, added sugar and gave her a spoon. Somehow, the normalcy of stirring tea made Lisette feel calmer. Perhaps everything could be all right again, if she could simply decide the best thing to do.

Her mind was strangely blank after all that had happened. There was nothing left to say or do. It was clear Andrew had no intention of leaving them alone or returning to New Orleans, in spite of the officer’s warning.

Shivering, Lisette took the cup with her to the front hearth and stood with her back to Aunt Portia, consumed with the possibilities and alternatives swirling through her mind. She had seen her father do this many times throughout the years. The delicate fragrance and sharp flavor of chamomile reminded her of gentler times. She came to a decision.

“Aunt Portia, there is no excuse for what Andrew did to me today, or for what he did last night. He must be made to pay.”

Aunt Portia nodded, squeezing her eyes tightly shut. “I had no idea he was capable of such violence. We have to find a way to—”

A loud rapping came at the front door. Aunt Portia held up one hand. “I’ll get it.” Her jaw set, she went to the foyer, peered through the clear glass peephole in the stained glass pattern, then turned the knob and opened the door.

“You are not welcome here, Mr. Westmoreland. I suggest you leave immediately, or I shall summon the Lieutenant.”

Lisette watched from just inside the parlor door, scarcely a yard from where they stood, yet outside of Andrew’s range of sight. She fully expected him to rave at Aunt Portia, but he spoke so quietly, Lisette couldn’t make out the words. She had to know what he was saying. One step placed her in the doorway, in full sight of him. Something about Andrew had changed. The difference in him was disturbing. Lisette went to the door, not about to let him think her afraid, even though part of her was terrified.

“What do you want?”

“I came to apologize to you, to your aunt. I cannot expect you to forgive my rash behavior and my totally improper actions. I can only hope you’ll hear me out.” He dragged his hat from his head, wrung it in his hands and stared at the floor.

Lisette couldn’t believe it.
Another act. Andrew knew he’d made a fatal mistake at the Peabody, letting everyone see his anger vented on her, and now the weasel was trying to mend the damage.

“Lisette, I think it’s time Mr. Westmoreland left.”

Lisette couldn’t allow Andrew to disrupt their lives again. Until she learned the motivation behind this piece of trickery, she might not be prepared for his next attempt to control them. Perhaps she could use this charade to her own advantage.

“Lisette, please ask Mr. Westmoreland to leave.” Aunt Portia was puzzled and agitated.

Lisette hesitated a moment. “I think we at least owe Andrew the courtesy of listening to his apology.” She could see Aunt Portia was completely perplexed by this tact. “Please, make it brief.”

Andrew bowed slightly and came into the parlor, bowing past Lisette like a true gentleman. He glanced around nervously,
then stood beside the front fireplace.

Lisette seethed again at the memory of his hands on her arms and his fist striking her face. The last thing she wanted to do was offer him a place to sit, but she had to play her part perfectly, or not at all. “Please sit down, Andrew. There—in the corner chair. Aunt Portia, would you get Andrew some tea?”

“Lisette—”

Lisette caught her eye, shook her head, motioned for her to come to the door,
then whispered, “Let the heathen hang himself. We know what he is. We won’t be fooled again.”

“I hope you’re right,” Aunt Portia whispered back. “I’d just like to send him packing, without so much as a word. It’s all he deserves.”

“Let’s see what the worm has to say for himself. A little humility can’t help but do him some good.”

“I’ll get the tea.” She disappeared down the hall.

Lisette went into the parlor and sat on the far side of the room, still nervous about being alone with this miserable excuse for a man.

Andrew perched on the edge of the chair, its legs arranged to facilitate its fitting exactly in the corner. Sitting there, Andrew reminded Lisette of a naughty child, confined to the corner for an infraction of manners. She said nothing, preferring to make him wait.