Love Be Mine (The Louisiana Ladies Series, Book 3) (38 page)

Once refreshments were served and consumed, and all aspects of the attack on Hugh and the condition of his wound had been thoroughly explored, the two guests were shown to their rooms. It was midafternoon, the air still and muggy, the sun a great blazing orange globe in the cloudless blue sky. Everyone remaining inside, until the worst of the heat had dissipated.

Since Micaela was not sharing his bed again, and had not since their disastrous argument, Hugh found time heavy on his hands. He was not used to indolence and his wound, while not totally incapacitating, did hamper his activities. It would have helped if he could have enmeshed himself in the affairs of the business, but here in the country even that escape was denied him. Restless and bored, he had already gone over the account books of the plantation and yesterday had conferred a long while with the new overseer about plans for the future of
Amour.

Ordinarily, Hugh enjoyed living in the country, partaking of those activities which were common occurrences, but there would be no hunting, fishing, or riding for him for a few days yet. Nor, in the face of the oppressive heat and humidity, which caused even the lightest clothing to cling damply to one's skin, did Hugh view a drive with enthusiasm.

Neither did his lonely bedroom hold much allure. Wistfully, he looked at the big inviting bed, remembering the joy he had shared with Micaela there just a few days ago, and he wondered if those moments would ever come again. He knew that they would—he did not envision spending the rest of his life barred from his wife's dazzling smiles and warm laughter, or her enchanting body—but he knew that her anger at him was not going to abate anytime soon. He did not blame her for feeling as she did.

Deciding that he had nothing to gain by brooding in his bedroom, he sought out more congenial surroundings. It was quiet in the big house this time of day. Seeking out the cheerful, airy room on the east side of the house that Micaela had chosen for his study, he was pleased to find John sitting there browsing through a copy of
Le Moniteur de la Louisiane
, the New Orleans French newspaper, which Jean had brought with him.

Seeing his stepson in the doorway, John tossed aside the newspaper. Smiling he said, "I will be glad when John Mowry's
Louisiana Gazette
is published next month.
Le Moniteur
seems to be full of nothing but business advertisements and bills of lading—only occasionally is there any mention of anything of interest happening. I hope Mowry's paper, when he finally begins publishing, will prove to be more informative."

Hugh shrugged. "Who can tell, but I am certain that the Americans who do not read French will welcome it."

Like most of the house at present, the study was sparsely furnished. A fanciful carved mahogany framed mirror hung over the black marble mantel of the fireplace; a brass and crystal candelabra sat at either end of the mantel. Fresh, sweet-smelling straw matting covered a portion of the gleaming cypress floor, and from the furnishings that went with the house, Micaela had selected for use in the study a pair of large comfortable chairs covered in russet leather; a long, narrow walnut table, and four cane-bottomed chairs which she had scattered about the large room for the time being.

Choosing the leather chair opposite John, Hugh sat down, stretched his long legs out in front of him and gave a contented sigh. "I think that I am pleased with my new house. What is your opinion?"

John smiled. "It is a fine house, Hugh. And I dare say that once Micaela and her mother finish with the furnishings, it will no doubt be an exceedingly grand home."

"And I shall more than likely be destitute," Hugh returned grinning.

The two men talked desultorily for several moments, before Hugh asked abruptly, "Have you thought any more about selling out in Natchez and joining me here in Louisiana?"

"I have thought of little else these past few days," John replied with unaccustomed moodiness.

One of Hugh's brows rose. "And?"

John shot him a dark look. "Did you know," he asked, "that I once thought to marry your very beautiful mother-in-law?"

Hugh jerked upright. Astonishment evident on his face, he exclaimed, "Sweet Jesu, no! I knew that there had been another woman in your life before you and Mother decided to marry, and that she was the reason you were willing to settle for a marriage of convenience, but I never guessed—"

"My marriage to your mother was one of the best things that ever happened to me. I knew how she felt about your father, and she knew how I felt about Lisette, although she did not know her name. She only knew that there had been someone, someone else who held my heart." John sighed and stared out the bank of tall windows which flanked a pair of French doors and overlooked an oak-and-magnolia-shaded expanse of lawn. "Despite both of us knowing our hearts were given elsewhere, jealousy," John said slowly, "was never an emotion between us. We respected how the other one felt and we were grateful for the companionship and affection that we were able to share." He flashed Hugh a fond look. "I was especially happy to be your stepfather. You are a fine man, and I hope you will allow me to take a little of the credit for that fact."

"Gladly, sir, you know that. After Mother died, I do not know what I would have done without you. I barely remember my own father, and I do not think it cruel of me to say that you are the only father I have ever known. I am proud to be your son."

"Perhaps," John said slowly, "fate really does arrange events to work out for the best. If I had married Lisette, you would not be my stepson, and your very lovely bride would never have been born."

"May I say, though you suffered for it and I am sorry for that, I am very,
very
grateful you did not marry Lisette. I could bear much, but not a world in which there was no Micaela."

"A very handsome sentiment, my boy, one I am sure would please your wife."

Hugh snorted. "The way she is feeling about me right now, I doubt it."

"Trouble?"

"Nothing that will not pass. The silly little fool believes I married her to gain control of the company! Anyone with a pair of eyes can see that I am thoroughly besotted by her." He grimaced. "Everyone but the lady in question."

John grinned. "And have you told the lady in question how you feel?"

"I tried, dammit, but it is deucedly hard to lay one's heart bare when the object of one's devotion is determined to meet any attempt at reconciliation with an icy stare and a haughty toss of her head."

"I know precisely what you are going through," John replied with feeling.

"My esteemed and utterly charming maman-in-law?"

John nodded."Noticed that, have you? I do not know how she has done it, but she has managed to make me the guilty party in what happened between us years ago—when she was the one who jilted me! And worse, dismissed me with a mere note and sent her father and that bastard Renault to confirm the news that she did not want to marry me after all. They took great pleasure in telling me that she was going to marry Renault before the month ended." John took in a deep breath. "I did not believe them at first when they confronted me and told me, but her note and the fact that they seemed to know all about our plans finally convinced me. I knew she was devoted to her father—I will agree that the note was probably coerced out of her—but in the end she did write it." He sighed. "I knew that Christophe had been pushing a match between Lisette and Renault, but I was certain our love was stronger, that she could hold out against their pressure. I was wrong." A faraway look entered his eyes. "And yet, and yet she had given me the most incontrovertible proof of love a woman can give a man. I would have sworn on my life that she loved me. What folly! I should have been prepared for what happened, and I would have been, if I had not taken one look at her and fallen in love." He shook his head. "I was a fool! I knew from the beginning that one of the reasons the Duprees were brought into the business in the first place was because of the hoped-for marriage between Lisette and Renault. Christophe's reasons were strictly practical, aside from the fact that Renault was considered quite a catch. By marrying Lisette to one of the other partners, he would not have to take as much money out of his own pockets to put into the partnership. To his way of thinking, it kept the business in the family. Of course," John said bitterly, "marriage to me, the largest shareholder, was out of the question. I was an
American!"

Thanks to Jasper's partisan sponsorship of him, he had not been the victim of that sort of open prejudice himself, but Hugh understood exactly how John felt. And, he reminded himself with a funny little leap in his pulse, I am far luckier than my stepfather. I was able to marry my own little Creole enchantress.

"How do you feel about Lisette now?" Hugh asked. "Is it uncomfortable for you to be around her?"

"Hell, yes! It is uncomfortable, damned uncomfortable, I can tell you, but having seen her again, it would be a thousand times worse
not
to be around her."

"Ah," Hugh murmured, a knowing grin curving his mouth, "so that is the way the wind is blowing. I wondered. One could not help noticing the impact the pair of you have on each other."

John flashed him a dark look. "Get that smug expression off your face, young man! And stop grinning. There is nothing amusing about my situation."

"Of course not," Hugh replied meekly, but his grin did not abate. "What are you going to do about it?"

"If I can ever get a moment alone with the tart-tongued little witch, I intend to make her listen to me and make it clear to her that I did
not
desert her—she deserted me! After that I will make
her
explain where she got such a foolish notion and why she sent her father and the Duprees to send me away in such a cruel manner. And then, as insane as it may sound, I intend to propose to her again and again, until she finally comes to her senses and realizes that I am the only man for her." His jaw hardened. "That I was
always
the only man for her."

Hugh did not envy his stepfather his task. Micaela was very like her mother, and, with a distinct feeling of unease, he realized that his situation was not so very different than John's predicament. Micaela blamed him for their marriage and believed that he had married her only for the business. Since Lisette blamed John for what happened years ago, it appeared that Lisette, in spite of her own note to him, believed that John had deserted her. But notes, he thought, could be forged.

Hugh stiffened. His gaze intent, he leaned forward. "You recognized her handwriting? And you never spoke to Lisette again until you met her here on Monday?"

John nodded.

"You said she loved you and had agreed to run away with you. Did you believe her, or did you think she was lying when she said those words?"

John's face softened. "I believed her. It took me a long time before I realized that Christophe must have played upon her affection and family loyalty in order to convince her that it was best that she not marry me."

"But at the time you never talked about it with her? You simply took your wounded heart back to Natchez and put it from you?"

"Well, yes," John said, puzzled. "I did not have much choice."

Hugh smiled grimly. "If you did not talk to the lady yourself, then how do you know that
she
sent Galland and the Duprees to meet with you? How do you know
she
wrote the note? I have heard often enough what an underhanded schemer Renault Dupree was and what a crafty devil old Christophe was. Is it not possible that somehow they got wind of what was planned and confronted you each separately, telling each of you that the other had changed their mind?"

John looked thunderstruck. He paled, then flushed. His eyes widened. He opened his mouth to speak, then shut it with a snap.

Hugh leaned back in his chair. Amusement in his eyes, he murmured, "I see that such a thought never occurred to you. But it is possible?"

John nodded. Recovering himself, he muttered, "Those
bastards!
The events you put forth sound exactly like something that Christophe and Renault would have done—and I can surmise the identity of the person who exposed our plans—that blasted French maid of Lisette's! She was always spying on her, snooping through Lisette's things. Lisette was fond of her, could never believe that Musetta, or whatever her name was, would ever do any harm. Ha! I cannot prove it, but I'd wager half my fortune that she was the one who ran to Christophe with the information that Lisette and I were planning to run away together."

"So what are you going to do about it?"

"There is little I can do about it now—both the men are dead—but I can confront Lisette with what we suspect and find out if she did write the note. If the note
was
forged, I intend to make her see that I never deserted her." A glow entered John's dark eyes. "And that I never stopped loving her...."

"What about Jean? How much do you think he knew?"

John hesitated. "In those days, he was just a boy, and he was fervently attached to Renault. It is possible that he did not know the whole truth. He may have believed the tale concocted by Renault and Christophe."

"Since it is mere conjecture that brought us to these conclusions, before we proceed further, I have to ask you: are you absolutely convinced that Lisette is innocent? That she did not do as you were told?"

A grim smile played at the corners of John's mouth. "There is only way to find out, is there not?"