Destiny's Daughter (11 page)

Chase nodded. "But in order to save a little money, we simply bring some things in behind his back. There’s no way he can keep track of everything that comes through the harbor."

"And if you get caught?"

"I’ll handle Soulet."

Annalisa gripped the pen so tightly her knuckles whitened.

Seeing it, Chase leaned closer and took the pen from her hand. "I don’t have a shipment of pens for another week."

Despite her revulsion at the man under discussion, a hint of a smile tugged at the corners of her lips. "What do I owe you for tonight’s shipment?" she asked.

"It’s on the second page."

Glancing at the paper, Annalisa looked up. "That doesn’t seem like enough to cover coffee, perfume, and cigars."

"I got them for a very reasonable price," he said quickly.

Annalisa studied him. "Am I buying stolen merchandise, Mr. Masters?"

He stubbed the cigar out in an ash tray on her desk and sat back in his chair, all the while watching her. "I’m a businessman, Miss Montgomery. I buy commodities and I deliver commodities. I don’t ask for a pedigree. I suggest you do the same."

For long moments she studied the firm set of his jaw. Then, taking out a heavy locked box, she counted out the bills and handed them to him.

"It isn’t wise to keep much money in here, Miss Montgomery. There are a great many desperate men in this city who would not be above robbing women." Folding the money, he patted his pocket, then said, "Now I’d like to enjoy a glass of that fine whiskey I delivered on my last trip."

Walking to a sideboard, she lifted a decanter and poured a generous amount of fine whiskey into a tumbler and handed it to him.

"I don’t like to drink alone."

"I’m not . . ." She paused, considered, then gave him a level look. "I’ll drink with you, if you’ll answer a couple of questions."

"Depends."

"Did you know my mother?"

"Sara?" He nodded. "I did."

Annalisa poured a small amount of whiskey into a second glass and turned toward him. "Tell me about her."

At his look, she added, "I never knew my mother. And she died just as I arrived home. In her will I was left this—business."

A smile touched his lips. Lifting his glass, he said, "Here’s to the new mistress of Hannah Elliott’s House of Pleasure."

They touched glasses. Chase took a long drink, then watched as Annalisa took a sip of the whiskey. She fought to keep her composure as tears momentarily blurred her vision. She opened her mouth to suck in a lungful of air, then lifted her chin in that haughty way he’d come to know so well. Tilting her head, she drank again, draining her glass. He noticed her hand shake slightly as she set the tumbler down on the sideboard. Walking back to her desk, she sat down and faced him.

Well, I’ll be damned
, he thought. She hadn’t been lying earlier. It was obvious she’d never had a taste of whiskey before in her life. But she’d downed her drink like a sailor. He studied her with growing admiration.

"What was my mother like?"

Chase sat down across from her. "She was a respected business woman. Sharp with figures. She went over every bill twice. If she ever got cheated by a merchant, she never got burned a second time. She was fair. She made it her business to know the market value of everything she bought and—the goods she sold."

Annalisa waited while he took another drink. She couldn’t imagine anyone liking whiskey, but she’d rather die than admit it to Chase Masters.

"What was she like personally?"

"Sara was a lady. She earned everyone’s respect. I never knew her to break her word. It was well known that she would never violate a confidence. She knew most everyone’s business around these parts. What she knew she kept to herself."

Before she could ask another question, Chase interrupted. "Now it’s my turn. What the hell were you doing on that riverboat passing yourself off as a little saint?"

Annalisa gave him a frigid look. "We’re not here to discuss my life."

"I was fair with you," Chase said in that low, dangerous voice she recognized. "Answer me."

"I—never pretended to be a saint." Evasively, she added, "I just didn’t like you, Mr. Masters. And even though I’m prepared to do business with you, I still don’t have to like you." She stood. "Thank you for your candor. By the way, what did you, personally, think of my mother?"

"I liked her." Chase drained the glass and set it on the edge of her desk. Standing, he took a step closer and reached out a hand to brush a wisp of hair from her cheek. The touch sent a rush of heat along her spine. "But I wasn’t nearly as intrigued by her as I am by her daughter, who passed herself off as a nun."

A wave of fury rushed over her, making the words clipped and angry. "I never ..."

At a knock on the door they both looked up. "Annalisa."

It was Hattie Lee’s urgent voice.

Crossing the room, Annalisa unlocked the door. "What is it?"

"Time for you to get back to your guests." Glancing past her to Chase, the black woman added, "Thank you. It’s beautiful." Touching a finger to the cameo brooch at her throat, she explained to Annalisa, "I happened to mention to Chase that my mother once had an ivory cameo brooch. And tonight he surprised me with this in a little velvet pouch. I found it when I unloaded the shipment."

"How thoughtful of him," Annalisa said in a strangled voice, "but how can you be sure he didn’t snatch it from a dead body?" Lifting her skirts, Annalisa stiffened her back and strode away.

Behind her, Hattie Lee and Chase watched until she was swallowed up in the crowd of men. Turning, the black woman saw the little frown line between his eyes, and the muscle that worked in the side of his jaw.

"Careful, Chase. She’s hardly more than a kitten."

Chase crossed the room and surprised himself by pouring another drink, something he rarely did. Draining it quickly, he turned and met the older woman’s dark, knowing eyes. "That’s no kitten, Hattie Lee. That one there’s a little wildcat. And she has claws. Sharp claws."

Annalisa sat at the desk, her head bent over the ledgers, trying to decipher her mother’s complicated code. Her mother’s figures were neat, precise. Each delivery was recorded with date and time. Each payment carefully noted. But why had Sara circled numbers beside the names of certain men? And why had she underlined some of the names?

The air, heavy with the fragrance of roses, drifted through the open window. Because of the early hour, the breeze was fresh and cool. Upstairs, the women of the house were still sleeping soundly. During dinner, the maids would change their bed linens and freshen their rooms in preparation for another night. The maids charged with the task of cleaning the public rooms on the lower floor went about their business quietly. Occasionally Annalisa heard the swish of a starched apron, the click of a door latch. The kitchen staff was just beginning to stir. The tantalizing odor of freshly ground coffee made her realize how hungry she was. Out of habit, she had risen at dawn, even though she hadn’t gone to bed until well past midnight. She would have to learn to nap in the afternoons until her internal clock adjusted to this new nighttime regimen.

At a knock on the door, she looked up. Hattie Lee entered, frowning.

"Emile Soulet is here."

"Soulet? What does he want?"

"He wants to see you." After a pause, she added, "He often came to see your mama."

"Do you know why?"

The black woman shook her head. "Mrs. Sara took care of money business."

Annalisa pushed her ledgers aside and picked up a pen. "Show Mr. Soulet in, Hattie Lee."

A moment later the heavyset man entered. Seeing her sharp glance in the direction of his head he reached a beefy hand to his hat. When Annalisa indicated a chair, he pulled it close to her desk and sat. The odor of stale whiskey and cigars clung to him. Obviously he didn’t bother with amenities like bathing or changing clothes.

"What can I do for you, Mr. Soulet?"

"You got that wrong. It’s what I can do for you, Miss Montgomery."

"And just what is it you can do for me?"

His gaze swept the room, then focused on the polished wooden box on her desk. "Mind if I smoke?"

"Of course not." She lifted the lid and offered him a cigar.

He rolled it between his fingers, then lifted it to his nose, inhaling the rich tobacco scent. "You buy fine cigars, ma’am," he drawled, leaning closer as she struck a match. "Good taste seems to run in your family."

She waited while he puffed, then crossed his legs and leaned back importantly. Soon, she knew, he would get to the reason for his visit.

"I can make sure all these fine things you like will get here to their proper destination."

Annalisa felt a quick flash of anger and fought to compose her features. "I thought that’s what you were paid by the city to do."

"Well, I am, ma’am." He drew on the cigar and flicked ash in a crystal ash tray. "But with all the activity down at the docks, things sometimes get lost." He gave her a sly look. "I don’t suppose the gentlemen of New Orleans would be very pleased with you if they couldn’t get the best cigars and whiskey. Oh, not that your women aren’t the finest in the South, ma’am. But your clients have learned to expect extra good treatment." When she continued to watch him without comment, he added, "Of course, if someone pays me a bonus to look out for their orders, you can bet I keep a close eye on their things. Down on the wharf, what I say goes. Your mother knew I could be counted on to watch out for her supplies."

"And just how did my mother show her appreciation?"

"Oh, cash and," he winked, "other favors."

"How much, Mr. Soulet?"

She saw his gaze dart to the ledgers, then back to her face. He seemed to take her measure for a moment. A slow smile spread across his features. "A hundred dollars."

She let out a long sigh, then bent to the locked box in the bottom drawer.

His tone hardened. "A month."

She sat up so quickly she nearly dropped the heavy box. "What did you say?"

"I said a hundred dollars a month," he repeated with a lear.

Annalisa’s mind raced. This kind of bribe would quickly eat into their profits. If only she knew what sort of deal her mother had made with this man.

"I can’t possibly afford to pay you that much, Mr. Soulet. I would be left with no funds to operate."

He shrugged. "Can’t blame a man for try in’ to make a livin’. All right, Miss Montgomery. Make it one hundred dollars every other month."

"No, Mr. Soulet," she said firmly, catching him off guard. "I will pay you fifty dollars now. When I’ve had a chance to see how well you protect my shipments, I’ll talk with you again."

Before he could protest, she began counting out bills. A quick glance at his face revealed a greedy little smile. She held out the money and watched the muscle work in the side of his jaw.

"Fifty dollars."

He snatched it quickly, before she had a chance to change her mind.

"Good day, Mr. Soulet."

He stood and pocketed the money. Reaching over, he helped himself to another cigar. "Pleasure doin’ business with you, Miss Montgomery."

As soon as the door closed behind him, Annalisa flipped through the pages of her mother’s ledgers until she found Soulet’s name. Beside it was the number ten inside a circle. She studied it for long minutes. It made no sense. Had her mother been paying Soulet ten dollars every time he came to her office? That would explain the ten. But what did the circle mean?

At a short rap on the door, Hattie Lee entered, looking flustered.

"Charles Montagnet, the governor’s aide, is waiting to see you."

"Did he ever visit my mother?"

"No, child. I never saw the man before last night."

Annalisa breathed a sigh of relief. For a moment she had been afraid his mission was the same as Soulet’s. "Show him in."

As he crossed the room a moment later and brought her hand to his lips, Annalisa again had the fleeting impression that they had met before last night. But that was impossible. A man like Montagnet would not be easily forgotten. With that tall, slightly stooped bearing and elegant attire, he stood out in any crowd.

"Good morning, Miss Montgomery. I’m pleased that you, like me, are an early riser. I had hoped we could conduct our business quickly before I leave for Washington."

"Business?" Annalisa paused as she reached for the box of cigars.

With a shake of his head, he refused her offer. Feeling her fingers tremble slightly, she replaced the cigar box and clasped her hands firmly in her lap.

Montagnet studied her. Close up, in early morning sunlight, she was more beautiful than ever. A smile touched his lips, making him look even more dangerous. When the liveryman had reported back to him, he had felt a crushing desperation. If the girl was a whore, all the fun would be gone. Raping her, killing her, would mean nothing to him. But seeing her last night, he had known. All her innocence, all her uncertain feelings, were there in her eyes. Despite the elegant gown, and the experience of the women in this house, this young woman’s virtue was intact. She would be his. Even as the thought flitted through his mind, he felt his excitement grow. The scheme he had devised was perfect. He would own her. She would be his, to do with as he pleased.

"It was brought to my attention by the governor last night that you operate a very lucrative business in his state, one that could not continue unless he was willing to—look the other way."

With a sinking feeling, Annalisa realized where this was leading. From top to bottom, this city was wallowing in corruption. The money she would be forced to pay to stay in business would never end. But this man caused a feeling of panic unlike anything she had felt toward Soulet.

"What will it cost me for the governor to—look the other way?"

"A thousand-dollar contribution would make the governor very happy."

She caught her breath at the staggering sum. Glancing up, she saw his gaze lock on the prim neckline of her white, high-necked blouse decorated with braid about the stand-up collar and yoke. Even in such modest clothing, she felt soiled by his look, as if he were mentally undressing her.

She swallowed, and hoped her voice wouldn’t betray her fury. "I would truly like to make a contribution to the governor. But I simply can’t manage a thousand dollars. I’m sure the governor wouldn’t like to see me forced out of business."

"That would be most unfortunate, Miss Montgomery." He stood and walked around the desk, dropping his hand to her shoulder. He felt her slight tremor at his touch and thrilled to it. "Perhaps we could find some other way to persuade the governor."

She forced herself not to shrink from his touch while her mind searched for a way to get rid of him until she could think this through. But she couldn’t risk having this man turn against her. He was extremely influential. And dangerous.

She stood, hoping he would back away. "When do you leave for Washington?"

"This afternoon."

He took a step nearer, and she felt her hips pressed against the edge of the desk. Trapped. She felt as trapped as a rabbit in a snare.

Montagnet towered over her. She was small and delicate.

Her bones would break like twigs. He felt himself growing hard.

"How long will you be gone?"

"Two weeks. Perhaps three."

She offered him what she hoped was a sultry smile. "If you could wait until you return, I will be in a better position to know just how much our finances can bear." She looked up to meet his speculative gaze.

Cruel, she thought with alarm. His eyes, his mouth, were hard, unfeeling.

"Two or three weeks?" He seemed to consider for a moment, while his fingers played with the braid at her collar. "I suppose I can wait that long." He dropped his hand and she felt a wave of giddiness. Lifting her hand to his lips, he murmured, "I look forward to our next visit."

"Good day, Mr. Montagnet."

"Charles," he interrupted.

"Yes. Charles. Safe trip."

He glanced down at her desk, and his gaze scanned the open ledger. Something flickered in his eyes. Following the direction of his glance, Annalisa snapped the book shut. He looked at her with eyes that seemed as bottomless as black pools. There was no light in this man. No heart, no feelings, no life. If she ever gave in to his demands, she would be sucked beneath that dark water until the life was drained from her.

She held her breath until the door closed behind him. Then, clutching her arms tightly around herself, she strode to the window, breathing deeply of the fresh, rose-scented air. A series of shudders passed through her. No matter what it cost, she could never allow that man to touch her again.

Lost in thought, Annalisa didn’t hear the knock on the door. At a second, insistent knock, she turned to see Hattie Lee wreathed in smiles. The woman’s face was flushed, and she giggled like a schoolgirl before saying, "Chase Masters is here to see you, child."

Moving to her desk, Annalisa sat down quickly and smoothed her skirts. When Chase entered, she fixed him with a look of scorn. "To what do I owe the dubious pleasure of your visit?"

"Business," he said matter-of-factly, settling himself comfortably in the chair beside her desk.

"Business, Mr. Masters? So early in the morning?" Her voice trembled with contempt. "How much are you hoping to get from me?"

"You’ve got that wrong, Miss Montgomery," he said casually, taking a paper from his pocket. "You only pay upon delivery. I’m leaving for New York in a few hours. I wondered what you’d like me to bring you."

Glancing up, he saw the look of complete surprise on her face. She was pale and trembling. "What’s wrong?"

"I’m sorry." She clutched and unclutched her hands on the desk top. "I’ve just had two very unpleasant visitors asking for money. I—thought you were about to do the same."

His tone hardened. "Who were these visitors?"

"Emile Soulet and Charles Montagnet."

"The governor’s aide?"

She nodded.

"Vultures. How much did Soulet ask for?"

"A hundred dollars a month. I gave him fifty."

"Are you mad?" He pushed back his chair and began pacing. "The man was fishing. Now that you’ve swallowed the hook, he’ll never let you go."

"What could I do?" In frustration, she stood and stalked to the window. "I had no idea every man in New Orleans would come here with his hand out. My mother didn’t leave me any instructions. I don’t know how to deal with them."

"Sara was very thorough," Chase muttered, walking to the desk. "She would have kept a record of such things."

"She probably did," Annalisa said grimly. "But I can’t understand her records." Moving to his side, she opened the first ledger and showed him the strange markings alongside certain names.

"Here’s Soulet. And here’s a ten with a circle around it. I have no idea what it means."

Chase’s eyes narrowed. These ledgers were invaluable. And she seemed to have no idea of their worth. "What about Montagnet?""Last night, his first impression of the man had been distinctly unpleasant.