Wilde, Jennifer (51 page)

"Lotta
time 'as passed since we had our little tussles on board ship. You've become a grand
lady."

"Hardly
that," I told him.

"
'Deed you 'ave. Surprised you'd even speak to a shaggy ruffian like me."

"Don't
be silly."

"I'm
happy for you," he said. "Does me good to see you such a bloomin'
success."

"I'm
sure you'll be successful, too, Jack."

"Aw,
bloke like me'll never amount to much, but if I can win enough to pay my fare
to Natchez and keep me from starvin' till I get a job, I reckon I'll get by.
Bloke like me doesn't require much."

As
we drank our champagne and ate the delicious food, Jack began to relax, no
longer intimidated by the splendor surrounding us. He related some of his experiences
during the past four years. He had been through a hurricane and a mutiny, and
had helped harpoon a whale. Finally weary of the seafaring life, he had jumped
ship in Jamaica and had worked in the cane fields there until he had enough to
pay his passage to New Orleans. He had arrived only this morning and wasn't at
all taken with the city. It was too bloody big, for one thing, and it smelled
like a cesspit. He couldn't wait to get up to Natchez where there was clean air
and good British folks who didn't jabber in Spanish and French.

When
the meal was finished, I took him into the gaming rooms. A few of the customers
looked askance at his shabby apparel, but most of them were far too engrossed
to pay attention to anything but the cards they held. Jack wanted to know if we
would take English pound notes. I assured him we would, leading him over to
Angie's table.

"This
is Angie," I told him. "She was on the ship, too."

"Christ!
This is like old 'ome week."

"Jack
Reed!" Angie exclaimed. "I remember you. Handsomest sailor on board.
Sit down, sailor. I have a feeling this is going to be your lucky night."

"So
do I," I said meaningfully.

Angie
understood at once. She gave me a tiny nod. The other players were a bit
disgruntled by the attention she paid to him, and they were dismayed by his
incredible luck. Angie was very subtle. He didn't win too much at once, he lost
a little now and then, but the cards were definitely in his favor. Jack was
elated, and as his winnings steadily mounted he grew more and more excited. A
crowd gathered around the table. There was an air of excitement, people urging
him on, giving advice. Everyone liked to see a winner, and Jack's lusty cries
and boyish exuberance made him a favorite with the crowd. They enjoyed his
success vicariously, were stimulated to try and match it. It was well after
midnight before he finally got up from the table, over two hundred pounds
richer.

"Pretty
good for one night's work," he admitted.

"I'm
worn out," Angie declared. "I've never seen such bloody luck!"

"Serves
you right," one of the players teased. "You're always taking us. It's
high time you were took yourself."

"Piss
off, Dalton. Everyone knows you're helpless in bed and hopeless at cards!"

Dalton
roared with laughter along with the others. Angie's insults were a token of
esteem. The regulars delighted in them. Her silvery-blond hair was slightly
disarrayed now, her gown a bit crumpled. She gave Jack a long, hard look,
knitting her brows together.

"If
you didn't have such innocent blue eyes I'd swear you were a bleedin'
sharp!"

"Mighty
obliged to you," Jack said, flashing a cocky grin.

"Get
on with you! I've got to win some of that money back or I'll be sacked for
sure. Come on, men, place your bets! We've only got an hour or so left to play.
So long, sailor."

"Be
seein' you," he called.

Jack
put his money away in a thin leather pouch, and I walked out front with him. It
was a sultry night with a full moon half-hidden by dark, drifting clouds.
Moonlight gilded the cobbles with a silvery sheen and intensified the heavy
black shadows. Jack sighed wearily, gazing up at the moon for a moment, then
looking at me with a rueful smile.

"Reckon
it was my lucky night after all," he remarked.

"It
certainly was."

"You
didn't have to do that, you know."

"Do
what?" I asked innocently.

"Oh,
I saw what the two of you were up to, saw right from the start. I'm lucky, but
I ain't
that
lucky. I'm pretty good at cards, you know. I probably
could've won fair and square."

"I
didn't want to take any chances."

"No?"

"You
were very kind to me once, Jack. Let's just say this was my way of repaying
some of that kindness."

"You're
a real lady," he said, "as fine a lady as I ever 'ope to meet. I
always knew you was, even when we was on the boat."

"I
suppose you'll be leaving for Natchez now," I said, changing the subject
quickly.

"First
boat I can get," he replied. "Reckon I'd better get back to my room
now, took one this mornin' down by the waterfront, stored all my gear
there."

I
peered down the dark, deserted street, a nest of sinister shadows broken only
here and there with wavering rays of moonlight. I was apprehensive, for New
Orleans was filled with footpads and thieves who would slit a throat for much
less money than Jack was carrying. Sensing my concern, he reached under his jacket
and pulled out a long, narrow club bound with leather strips. He slashed the
air with it, grinning.

"Any
man fool enough to tangle with Jack Reed'll get a bashed 'ead for 'is trouble.
Don't you worry. I can take care of myself."

"Do
be careful, Jack."

"I
will. Maybe well run into each other again, lass. Never can tell. You might get
down to Natchez one o' these days. I might see you there. I wish you
'appiness."

"And
I you, Jack."

He
nodded and started down the street with that jaunty, dipping sailor's walk and
was soon swallowed up by the shadows. I stood there in front of the steps for a
few moments, listening to the echo of his footsteps, and finally there was
silence.

I
went back inside and resumed my duties. Customers were beginning to leave now, and
an hour later only the most persistent remained, determined to make up their
losses. The ballroom was empty, the waiters clearing up, carrying trays of
dishes down to the kitchen. Two of them carefully lowered the chandeliers until
they almost touched the floor and held the ropes steady while another snuffed
out all the candles. Candles still flickered in the wall sconces, but the room
was now awash with shadows. I strolled back into the gaming rooms. The
hangers-on were leaving, cheerfully shooed away by a weary, wilting Angie.

"What
a night," she said. "We made a killing. I more than doubled what Jack
won. All the chaps were eager to match his luck. Fancy him showin' up like
that."

The
other dealers were putting things away. Ordinarily Jeff acted as cashier,
taking charge of all the money. Now Kyle was counting it in his absence,
tallying figures on a sheet of paper and finally carrying it all up to the safe
in Jeff's office. The dealers left. Angie and I stood together in the main
gaming room.

"You're
still worried about Jeff, aren't you?"

I
nodded. "I can't help it. He didn't go to see Corinne. She was here
earlier, holding court, looking disappointed because he wasn't around. He was
in one of his moods when he left."

"He'll
be all right, Marietta."

"I
suppose so. I just wish I could shake this feeling."

Kyle
came back downstairs to supervise locking up. I asked him if he knew the places
where Jeff and his cronies usually spent their evenings on the town. Kyle gave
me a solemn nod.

"She's
worried," Angie said. "Why don't you take the carriage and go look
for him, see that he gets home safely? You don't have anything
else
to
do tonight."

"Would
you, Kyle?" I asked. "I'd feel so much better knowing you were with
him."

"The
men with the wine will be here in half an hour. I have to let them in the back
gate, pay them for the goods."

"I
can attend to that."

Kyle
was clearly reluctant. Angie gave him an exasperated look.

"Come
on, Goliath. I'll go with you, keep you company. While we're lookin' for him
I'll tell you the story of my life."

"The
places I'll be going aren't suitable for a woman."

"Suitable?
That's a bleedin' laugh. There's not a place in New Orleans I haven't been in
one twice as bad. Besides, I'll have you to protect me, won't I? Don't just
stand there lookin' like a dunce. Go get the carriage and bring it round!"

Kyle
glowered at her with menacing eyes, but he obeyed nevertheless. Angie trotted
upstairs to fetch her cloak and came merrily back down a few moments later, all
traces of weariness gone. When the carriage pulled up in front, she blew me a
kiss and dashed outside, white silk skirts fluttering. I locked the door and
went upstairs to Jeff's office. The smugglers always demanded to be paid in
gold coin. Opening the safe, I found the small chamois bag of gold that had
been set aside for them.

When
I went back downstairs some twenty minutes later, the place was silent and
still, the rooms dark, only a few candles left burning in the hall. I hadn't
bothered to get a cloak, and my blue velvet skirt rustled softly as I moved
toward the back doors that opened onto the courtyard. I should have removed the
diamond necklace, I thought. It might not be wise to let the smugglers see me
wearing such valuable gems. They were bound to be ruffians. I would simply have
to risk it, as there was no time to return to my room. I took up the lantern
kept in a wall niche by the door, lighted it, and stepped out into the
courtyard.

The
moon was behind a bank of clouds. The courtyard was shrouded with thick, heavy
shadows thrown into even sharper relief by the flickering glow of the lantern.
There was a strong wind that caused the palm fronds to rustle with a stiff,
rattling noise. The fountain splashed as I moved past it toward the small gate
in an archway set into the back wall. As I set down the lantern and unlocked
the gate, I could hear a cat yowling in the alley beyond, but there was no
sound of the smugglers' cart. I stepped over to one of the white marble benches
to await their arrival, all my senses alert. Something was going to happen.
Now. Tonight.

A
gust of wind swept through the courtyard and blew the lantern out, and there
was a moment of total darkness. Then the moon came from behind the clouds and
turned the courtyard into a world of blue and black and silver, the tiles
gleaming as though wet with moonlight, the shadows soft now, not so dense. I
heard the cart approaching, heard quiet, surly voices. Stepping over to the
gate, I pulled it open and stood looking out into the alley. The cart stopped.
There were three men, two of them roughly dressed and burly, but the third was
slender and wore a long black cloak. The cloak billowed out as he climbed down.
He gave instructions to the other two men, and they started to unload the cases
of wine. The man in the cloak turned around, looking at me for the first time,
and I was paralyzed with shock.

I
could see him clearly in the moonlight. I saw every remembered feature, saw the
scar that hadn't been there before. I looked at him, unable to speak, unable to
breathe, it seemed. He showed no surprise. He stepped toward me, the cloak
belling out behind him like demonic wings. I was numb, unable to feel any of
the emotions I should have felt.

"Hello,
Marietta," he said. "It's been a long time."

I
might have been in the middle of a dream. The man, the moonlight, the
blue-black shadows that filled the courtyard: all seemed part of that dream,
without real substance. The palm fronds rattled. The fountain splashed, and
crickets made scratchy, clicking noises between the tiles.

"You've
brought the wine," I said.

My
voice was calm, without the least shading of emotion, yet it seemed to come
from a long way off, seemed to belong to someone else. I saw him standing there
not ten feet away, saw the men behind him lifting the cases of wine out of the
back of the cart, and none of it was real. It was an illusion, like the soft
shimmer of moonlight, like the shadows brushing the walls.

"It
goes in the wine cellar," I said. "The back door is open. There's a
stairway to your right as you enter. It goes down past the basement and on into
the cellar."

"Aye,
I know where it is," one of the men growled. "I brung th' goods last
time."

"Snap
to it!" Derek said sharply.

Each
of the men picked up a case of wine and carried it through the gate and across
the courtyard toward the back door. Derek stepped into the courtyard, out of
the wind, and the cloak settled over his shoulders in silky folds that almost
touched the ground. I was standing in a shaft of moonlight, and he studied me
with a cool, indifferent gaze.

"You
seem to have done quite well for yourself," he remarked.