Love Be Mine (The Louisiana Ladies Series, Book 3) (24 page)

Chapter 11

With affairs at Galland, Lancaster and Dupree unresolved, Hugh was considering remaining in the city throughout the summer, despite its attendant dangers.

It was midmorning the next day, and Hugh was seated behind his desk at the company offices. He had been moodily flipping the pages of the inventory from
Le Lys Bleu,
his mind more on his baffling, beguiling wife than the problem in front of him. He supposed that he had no room for any complaint. On the surface, his marriage was everything he had expected it to be; he had a charming chatelaine for his home, a delightful social companion, a beautiful creature to share his bed, and he had no doubt that when children arrived Micaela would prove to be a superb mother. After all, he had known from the beginning that she did not care a jot for him. Their marriage, he admitted bleakly, was little more than a business arrangement. And like any good business associate, Micaela was willing to do her part to ensure a successful union between them.

She was nearly always courteous; seldom out of sorts; she saw to it that his household ran smoothly and allowed him the use of her body. What more did he want? His frown deepened.
Allowed
him to make love to her—that was the rub, the ugly canker that was eating away at him. Despite his best efforts to change things between them, Micaela remained a sweetly passive participant in their lovemaking, and it was driving him wild. He could not complain that she denied him his conjugal rights, for she did not. Nor could he complain that she lay stiff and unyielding in his arms, because she did not—she was always soft and accommodating.

He pushed the inventory away from him with a muttered curse. What the hell did he want from her? It rankled, and he could not deny it, that he had been forced into this marriage. But he admitted that if he had not been willing to have Micaela for his wife, he would never have allowed himself to be coerced into marrying her.

From their first meeting he had found Micaela to be a tempting, tantalizing little baggage. He had enjoyed her barbs, the lively intelligence in those dark eyes of hers and that dazzling, flashing smile of hers. And as for the rest... He sighed. Oh, very well, he would admit it—he had wanted her as he had never wanted another woman in his life. Before their marriage there had been many nights that he had lain awake, his body hard as he had envisioned making love to her, kissing that cherry red mouth; stroking those soft, lush breasts; cupping those firm buttocks and losing himself in her tight warm silkiness. Reality had been beyond even his sweetest imaginings. She had been everything he dreamed of, but something was missing, some vital spark was absent when they came together.

Hugh scowled. In many respects the marriage he had with Micaela was the marriage he had envisioned with Alice Summerfield, and he was startled to discover how very much his marriage resembled the one his stepfather and mother had shared. He should have been happy. Ecstatically so. Aside from gaining an enchanting creature for his bride, he had also strengthened his hold on the company and elevated his position in the city—at least, he thought wryly, amongst the Creoles. His problem was that he was not finding his marriage as pleasurable as he had hoped. It wasn't enough to have a lovely bed mate and a competent, utterly charming housekeeper. He wanted more, much more, from Micaela than mere acceptance. He wanted...

As if he had been stung, he jerked upright, appalled at the direction his thoughts were taking. Surely, he did not want her to love him?

He laughed mirthlessly. The jest was certainly on him, and a bitter one it was at that, if wanting Micaela's love was at the bottom of his dissatisfaction with his marriage. He might as well bay at the moon and expect an answer as expect Micaela to love him. Besides, what did it matter? It was not as if he had been fool enough to go and fall in love with his own wife.

The marriage had been hasty. Perhaps, a brief separation, a time for reflection, would not come amiss. He could settle Micaela, along with her mother, if she wished, at the Justine property for the summer, and come the fall, when she returned to the city, they could begin anew. Of course, he would visit her often. A tight smile crossed his face. She might not be as responsive to his lovemaking as he would have wished, but she had him mesmerized, fascinated and the thought of
not
making love to her for several weeks, months... well, it just didn't bear considering.

A surprisingly tender smile, one that would have worried him a great deal if he had been aware of it, curved his lips. During the summer, he thought slowly, he could court his wife. Woo her. And by the time the fall came...

Feeling cheerful, he glanced at the troubling inventory. In the meantime, he had much to occupy him. Turning to the problem at hand, he decided that he could do nothing except watch and wait until the next large shipment arrived. Even getting his hands on a copy of one of the originals he had requested was not going to help him a great deal. It would only prove his theory correct. But it would not allow him to trap the thieves and he was positive that more than one person was involved. To spring a trap he needed some bait, bait which
Le Lys Bleu
would have provided, but was useless to him now.

Hugh stared off into space, considering the situation. New Orleans, he was aware, was already being deserted by those who could afford to leave, and by next week most Creoles and anybody else with any sense would have left the city and would not be returning until October or November. Which did not mean his culprits would not strike if a tempting shipment arrived during the next few months. Which was another reason for him to remain in the city.

It would be difficult for him to strike swiftly if he were to remove himself from New Orleans. It was also likely that whoever was behind the thefts would not be in the city either. Someone would have to alert them to any prospective arrivals. And if Hugh were
already
in the city, not only would he be able to lay a trap to catch them in the act, he would also have a good idea who was supplying them with information.

Hugh grimaced. He was certain he already knew who was alerting the thieves—Etienne Gras. He liked the young man and hated to think of him involved in the situation, but it seemed evident. Etienne's position in the firm made him the obvious culprit, and, coupled with his gambling habits, the fact that he had been in debt to Alain Husson once made him even more suspect. Nor was Hugh forgetting the young man's nervousness when questioned about any early notice of the arrival of
Le Lys Bleu.

Etienne could have been merely uneasy at being called before his employer, but Hugh did not think so. He had been a little
too
nervous under the circumstances. A grim smile crossed his face. Perhaps it might be revealing to spend more time in the company of young Gras?

Hugh rose to his feet and, with the inventory of
Le Lys Bleu
in one hand, left his office. He stopped long enough to request that Etienne accompany him to the firm's warehouses. It was a good walk to the warehouses on Tchoupitoulas Street, but the hour was early and the humid heat had not yet reached its zenith.

As they walked, Hugh made small talk. While wary to begin with, by the time the company warehouses came into sight, Etienne had relaxed and was animatedly telling Hugh about the latest cockfight he had attended. His face full of pleasure, Etienne exclaimed, "And the black cock, he was most ferocious,
monsieur!
The red fought very hard, but he was no match for the black cock. It was a very, very good fight and I am happy that I had put my money on the black. It was an exciting fight and to win... ah, that makes it even more thrilling."

"Indeed," Hugh returned. "Do you win often?"

Etienne's face fell. Reluctantly, he admitted,
"Non.
Sometimes I-I-I lose more than I should. I have tried to curb my gambling—it worries
Maman,
but it is something in the blood,
oui!
A man cannot help himself." Risking a quick look at Hugh's features, he added hastily, "But I have always paid my debts."

"Excellent!" Hugh answered, wondering if helping Husson steal from the company was one of the ways in which Etienne paid his debts. Having concluded that Etienne was the most likely person to be feeding information about shipments and arrivals to the thief, it was an easy step to name Husson as the receiver of that information. Hugh had no trouble picturing Husson as the person behind the thefts and probably behind the attack on him several months ago, too. It seemed the sort of spiteful act that would appeal to Alain.

Etienne took Hugh to the area in the sprawling building where the shipment from
Le Lys Bleu
had been placed. Glancing around at the murky interior of the warehouse, the concealing shadows and rabbitlike warrens which interspersed the piles and stacks of crates, barrels, bales and boxes scattered about, Hugh sighed. Who would notice if anything went missing?

Several brawny, half-naked men labored in the stifling heat inside the warehouse, laughing and talking, cursing and shouting, as they carted various bulky objects from one location to another. There seemed to be a constant flow of traffic inside the building, crates coming in; barrels and boxes leaving. The air was redolent with odors; the smell of the Mississippi River itself; the scent of spices and herbs. Cloves, ginger, cinnamon, and sandalwood mingled with the lingering odor of tobacco, indigo, and cotton, and that faint musty smell endemic to all buildings near the river. Dust motes floated lazily in the shafts of hot, yellow sunlight which poured in through the cavernous doors and from outside came the rattle and bang of horse-drawn vehicles and the cries of street vendors, hawking their wares—dewberries, strawberries, sweets, fish, and figs.

Shutting out the sights and sounds and smells which accosted him, Hugh turned his attention to the huge sprawling pile of crates and barrels which Etienne indicated had come from
Le Lys Bleu.
Observing it, Hugh asked, "And you compared what we received with the inventory which accompanied it?"

Etienne swallowed.
"Oui, monsieur.
That is the first thing I do once it has been unloaded."

"I see. And, to your knowledge, has anything been taken from this shipment since you completed the inventory? You mentioned, did you not, that you had just finished tallying it up yesterday?"

Etienne nodded.
"Oui, monsieur,
yesterday."

"And does it look the same? Nothing that at first glance appears missing?"

"N-n-non
—nothing that I can see without further investigation. There are customers waiting for their orders, but it will be another few days before we start dispersing items."

Hugh's gray eyes suddenly met Etienne's. "Tell me, Etienne, are you happy with your position at Galland, Lancaster and Dupree?"

"H-h-happy,
monsieur
?" he repeated uncertainly and at Hugh's nod, exclaimed, "Oh,
oui!
My
maman
is very proud of me, and many of my friends are envious."

"Then you would not wish to lose your position, would you?"

"Non,
I would not," Etienne replied, appalled at the idea.

Hugh nodded again, and said, "Well, then you are going to have to help me, young man, because if something is not done and done swiftly, there may not be a Galland, Lancaster and Dupree to employ you much longer. We have a thief, a clever one, to be sure, but a thief nonetheless. I need you to help me catch him."

"A-a-a thief,
monsieur
? How can you be certain?"

It was an interesting question, and not the one Hugh would have expected—from an innocent man. Etienne did not seem to be surprised by the revelation of thievery. His only interest was in how the thievery had been discovered.

"The inventory," Hugh said gently. "I am convinced that someone has altered it. I need you to tell me if you remember what was on the pages that have been changed."

With all the pleasure of reaching for a deadly viper, Etienne took the inventory Hugh held out to him. Clasping it gingerly, he looked at Hugh. "What do you want me to do,
monsieur?"

"Go over the inventory again. See if it agrees with what is stacked here and try to remember if you notice anything missing."

Etienne nodded, his face pale in the murky light of the warehouse. "I will do it,
monsieur."

"I am sure you will," Hugh said quietly. "Just as I am sure there is an easy explanation for what has been going on." Hugh's gaze rested on Etienne's unhappy features. "I am not a vindictive man, you know. If someone who had helped, or who had been forced to help, steal from the company were to come forward and confess, I would treat him generously. And if he were to assist in the capture of the thieves, there is much that I would be willing to overlook. I am a discreet man—no one who came to me with the information I need would ever need to fear reprisals. I would be quite,
quite
grateful to them. However, if no one comes forward..."