Rouge (12 page)

“I can help you when you’re ready,” he said. “Just let me know.”

I nodded and wondered if he meant more than with taking my seat.

I stepped toward the bench
,
and he held out his hand. “You don’t have to be afraid,” he said.

I gazed at his palm for a moment before slipping my smaller one over it. Warmth filled me as we held hands in the dim light, waiting for the music to start. And while the delay was irritating to the crowd below, my heart could’ve stayed there with him forever.

He still avoided my eyes, but his thumb caressed the top of my fingers. It was so gentle it made my chest hurt. He handled me like no one ever had before—as if I were a delicate piece of glass. Then, without a word, he turned my hand over and I watched as he raised my palm to his lips. The moment he touched me, need surged through my entire body, and I started to stand, to rush into his arms when the music swelled and the bench moved away.

As I swung out over the crowd, his eyes looked directly into mine. I couldn’t break our gaze until the spotlight hit me and my mouth opened to sing the final song.

* * *

Freddie’s visit was more affectionate than ever. He recalled our Sunday luncheon and subsequent stroll, our portrait, and proposed we do it all again. I agreed, knowing I had to stay focused on my plans with him, but at the same time, I couldn’t stop watching the passage all the while. I was desperate to get rid of him before Beau disappeared into the night, back to wherever he lived.

Teeny was absent again, but I wasn’t thinking of her as I played the role of the demure, displaced daughter of lost heritage. Finally Freddie said goodnight, and the moment he was gone, I raced back to the stage to find Beau picking up his coat and preparing to leave. When he saw me, he stopped and stood up straight. I stopped as well a few steps in front of him, joy filling me.

“I… I wanted to say thank you. Again,” I said.

“For what?”

“For Sunday? I mean with Teeny. When Freddie—”

He shook his head. “I told you. I just…”

His voice trailed off as he took a step toward me.

“What?” I asked, taking a step toward him. We were so close, I could touch him now if I wanted. And I did want to, so badly. Our eyes met, and his gaze held me frozen, breathless.

“I just want you to be happy,” he finished.

“Is that what you meant when you said you wished…?”

I waited but he didn’t speak. Instead he lifted his finger and slid a lock of my hair from my face, tracing a line from my forehead, past my temple, to my cheek. I reached up to take his hand before he moved it away.

“No,” he said.

“It wasn’t?”

He looked down at my hand holding his and with his thumb, he stroked the third finger on my left hand. “You’re looking for a rich man. I know you have your reasons, I just wish things could be different.”

I didn’t even feel the tears coming until one dropped onto my cheek. Beau frowned and caught my face in his hands. With his thumb, he wiped my tear away. Then without a word, he leaned forward and kissed me. This time his kiss was gentle, comforting. I reached forward to catch the front of his shirt, the fabric rough against my fingertips. He lifted his head and looked into my eyes.

“I hate to see you sad,” he whispered.

“There’s not much to do about it.” I tried to laugh, but it wasn’t convincing.

“I never expected to meet someone like you. And then when I did, I never dreamed you’d consider me worth your time.”

“I shouldn’t… I shouldn’t consider you,” I said, longing pulsing through me with every heartbeat. “But I guess I can’t help it.”

He paused and looked at the stage floor. “When I left Ascension, I thought I’d have adventures. I’d do whatever came my way—art, women, anything. The old gentleman who raised me after my father died gave me some money to get started. But I’m here now because I spent it all. Wasted it all.”

His last words were barely audible, but I was stunned. I didn’t even know where to begin asking questions.

“The old gentleman?”
That’s why his manners…

“Georges Brouillette. He didn’t have much money after the war, but he managed to hold onto some of it, and all his land. Eventually, he made good. My dad was his foreman, and when he was killed, Mr. Brouillette sort of adopted me.”

“What happened to your mother?”

“I don’t know,” he shrugged. “She was gone before I was old enough to remember her. No one ever said anything—”

“Didn’t you ask?” I couldn’t imagine not knowing the story of my parents.

“Dad was gone, and Mr. Brouillette didn’t know anything. Or didn’t care to. When I started out, of course I came to New Orleans.”

Then he looked up at me. “I could’ve had a chance with you.”

He pulled me into his arms again, but it was too much. I shook my head to make him stop.

“Neither of us knew, and besides, it doesn’t matter now.”

With a finger, he lifted my chin. “Doesn’t it?”

Our eyes locked and this time he easily parted my lips with a stronger kiss. My hands fumbled to his shoulders, as he grasped my waist and lifted me onto a nearby box. My eyes were closed as his mouth moved down my neck, teasing the collar of my dress. My heart beat painfully as his warm hands gathered my skirts. Bandaged palms scratched across the skin of my thighs, easing them apart and sliding our hips together. The heat of us touching dragged a little moan from my throat and his mouth covered mine again. I was going too far, and I didn’t care. I wanted to go further. But I had to get control, I had to fight him.

“Stop,” I said, turning my head. “I can’t do this. I can’t feel like this for you.”

I pushed my skirts quickly down and moved my body away, ignoring the heat surging through me. He stepped back, running his hands through his hair and took a deep breath.

“I know. You have a plan,” he said. “But… does it have to be carried out right away?”

My forehead creased. “What do you mean?”

“What if I asked you to wait? Not long. Just until I find work. Some way to take care of you. And Christina.”

I shook my head as I slid down from the box. “I can’t do that.”

It was only a matter of time before Gavin discovered the truth about Teeny, before he sent her to the back to earn her keep. And I was so close to a promise from Freddie. I couldn’t gamble our one chance at escape on someone who could leave as soon as he got what he wanted from me. People let you down. If I’d learned anything in this place, it was that lesson.

“There’s only one way I can save us,” I said. “And that’s to marry Freddie.”

Beau grimaced. “But there’s plenty of time. We’re so young.”

“There isn’t time. And I can’t wait. I’m sorry.”

“Why?” He caught my waist and pulled me back to him. The pain in my chest made it difficult to breathe.

He leaned forward to kiss me again, but I turned my head, sending his face into the hair beside my ear. “When I saw you that first time,” he murmured, “I couldn’t believe we might be together.” His breath whispering across my neck
sent tingles through me
. “You were so beautiful. And now—”

“Beau, stop,” I whispered. “It’ll only make things harder.”

“Just kiss me again.”

I turned my head back and our lips met. Mouths opened, tongues wove together. In that moment, all I cared about was the bliss of having him, holding him. Him holding me. His strong hands, the sweet taste of his mouth… Until a small voice cut through the empty house.

“I knew it!” The sound echoed loudly off the back walls. I spun around, my back pressed against Beau’s chest, his hands still holding my waist.

Teeny was standing in the pit with Roland, who looked equally annoyed. I took a
hesitant
step forward, away from the warmth of Beau, toward the two of them.

“Hale, we need to talk,” Roland said. “Beau, you’d better say goodnight.”

Beau stepped toward me, but I didn’t look at him again. “We can talk more later,” he said, touching my hand.

I reached for Teeny to pull her back to our room, but she jerked away.

“I don’t need your help,” she said. “Liar.”

I didn’t respond. There was so much she didn’t understand. So much I’d kept her from understanding. If she acted this way, I was as much to blame.

“Come on then,” I muttered. “That wasn’t… what you think.”

She followed me back to the room, Roland behind her. “So you’re saying you weren’t just kissing Beau? Your body wasn’t completely entwined with his?”

My cheeks burned and my lips still throbbed from Beau’s kisses. I could still feel his breath in my hair, and I shivered. “I didn’t think you cared about him anymore.”

“And I thought you had to love Freddie.”

“Let’s not talk about it.”

We reached the room, and I went inside. Roland followed us in and closed the door.

“You never want to talk about it,” Teeny continued. “Except to lie about it.”

“Teeny, hush,” Roland ordered in a low voice. Then he turned his glare on me. “I found her with Guy. After I told you to keep her away from him.”

I frowned. “You found her? I don’t—”

“It was a simple request,” he interrupted, and I could hear the angry edge in his voice. “And you knew I meant it.”

I looked over at Teeny sitting on the bed with her arms crossed, pouting. “What happened?”

He pressed his lips together before answering. “Nothing. And too much.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means that if something more comes of this…” I saw his hand clench into a fist, but he quickly released it and turned to the door. “Let’s just hope it doesn’t.”

“I don’t understand—” I said, but he was out the door again, striding down the dark passage.

I stood there for a moment, stunned. Then I turned back to Teeny, who took one look at me and jerked away, facing the back wall. I went to my dressing table and collapsed, fighting tears. All my thoughts were on how unfair it all was. How I desperately wanted to be back with Beau, in his arms, doing anything we wanted. He wanted to be with me, to take care of me. And Teeny. At least that’s what he said, and I wanted to believe him.

I inhaled a jerky breath, trying to calm the pain beating in my chest. It wasn’t fair. I was tired of being responsible for another person all the time, and how could Roland judge me for something he wouldn’t even bother to explain?

I pressed my head into my arm until I saw white sparks behind my eyelids. Then I took a deep breath and sat up straight, looking at Teeny in the glass. She was still straining as hard as she could to position her entire body away from me, so I stood and went to the bed, taking her hands.

“Don’t,” she said trying to pull them away, but I held them tightly in mine.

“I’m sorry about what you saw. Me and Beau.”

She tried to pull her hands away again, but I held her.

“I told you I didn’t have feelings for him. And I do.” I looked down and released her as the tears threatened in my eyes again.

“I knew it.” She said through clenched teeth.

I returned to my dressing table. Standing beside it, I ran a finger down the outline of one of my brushes. How I wanted to be back with Beau. Instead I inhaled a deep breath and let it out.

“Roland says you’ve got to stay away from Guy.”

“I might as well be living in a convent.” She kicked a pillow off the bed and lay down hard on her side. I frowned and walked back to her.

“Did he kiss you?”

“No,” she mumbled. “He didn’t do anything but take a lock of my hair.”

I wrinkled my nose. “Why did he do that?”

“He said he missed me the last time he was gone. That he loved the color of my hair, that it reminded him of someone. Then he asked if he could have a lock.”

I bit my lip. “I don’t see the harm in that.”

She jerked around to face me, eyes wide. “There wasn’t any harm. It was just a little snip. His ring is a locket, and he took a tiny piece to put in it. Because he likes the color so much.”

I didn’t answer. Roland hadn’t given me any reason to forbid her to see Guy. What could I tell her?

“Did he ask you to do anything else?”

“No. One minute I was talking to him in the lobby, and the next Roland was jerking my arm out of socket and dragging me back here.”

She continued staring at me, waiting. I didn’t know what to say. I still hadn’t even seen the man. “How old is he? Really.”

“I don’t know.” She lay down on her side again with her back to me.

I sighed and stood up. “Well, I think we should trust Roland,” I said, although I wasn’t convinced I believed those words anymore.

“He wouldn’t say something just to say it.”

She didn’t answer, and I was too tired to fight anymore. I took her silence as agreement, and still standing by my dressing table, I noticed my sparkling comb, Freddie’s gift. I was just lifting it when a soft tapping at the door broke the quiet. For a moment my heart rose. I hoped it was Beau.