Celine (13 page)

 

 

Somewhere deep in the night, Trevor came awake. His head felt like it was filled with cotton. He ran his hand down his front. He was still fully clothed. The candle had burned to nothing, so by touch he retrieved another from the bedside drawer and replaced it. He lit it and inspected the closet door. Closed tight.

What the hell kind of dream was that?

He was thirsty beyond belief and reached for the water pitcher. His movements were leaden, awkward. There was something awfully familiar about this feeling, but he couldn't quite name it. He picked up the empty sherry glass, ran a finger across the bottom of the bowl, and licked the tip.

Laudanum!

No wonder. He fell back on the bed. His hand landed on . . . what? Hoisting himself up on his elbows, he picked up a single red rose and a note with one word written on it—
touché
.

“Damn it!” He grabbed the crystal glass and hurled it at the carved dado. It hit its mark and disintegrated into a thousand shards.

Blinking hard, he attempted to focus on the dado that would allow him entrance to Celine's quarters. He shouldn't.

He should just let it all go.

But he could not. He stood, moved woodenly to the fireplace, and reached out to caress the rich, dark wood of the dado. He gave it a twist, and then slipped silently through the closet and into the next room.

He moved, still somewhat clumsily, until he stood by the edge of the four-poster bed. Blood pounded in his ears as he carefully parted the mosquito netting.

Felicité!

He snatched his hand away from the netting as though it were made of nettles. What the hell was his sister doing in Celine's bed? He glanced at the window seat, half-expecting to see Celine curled up there, smugly mocking him. She was nowhere in sight.

He made a hasty retreat.

Once back through the closet, he closed the door, twisted the dado back in place, and strode to his bed, shaking the cobwebs from his head. He stood for a moment, staring at the closet door.

And then he laughed.

Chapter Ten

Tonight was the formal ball, but today held just as much excitement. A bit nervous for more reasons then she dared to confess, Celine paused at the open front doors of the plantation house, smoothed the skirts of her green day dress, and stepped out to greet Justin. She didn't expect to see Trevor, not before breakfast, anyway. Just the thought of what she'd done last night made her heart jump to her throat.

Justin rose from where he was seated and made a sweeping gesture at the elegantly decorated veranda and grounds. “What do you think?”

The shaded lawn was graced with small groupings of wrought iron furniture. The veranda contained more of the same, all painted pristine white. Even the red Chinese lanterns strung overhead managed to appear regal with all their gold braid and tassels. “You've thought of everything.”

“No, I merely told the experts to create something fetching.”

“Hardly fetching.” She laughed. “This is exquisite. What more could I ask for?”

Justin smiled and withdrew a narrow black velvet box from his jacket and opened it. “You didn't ask, but I have a little something for you.”

Celine caught her breath, speechless at the sight of the glittering diamond-and-pearl necklace resting on black velvet. “Oh, my, I couldn't possibly—”

“Hush, Celine. Don't steal my pleasure by refusing.” He laid the diamond-and-pearl necklace against her throat and fastened the clasp.

Running her fingers over the jewels, she swallowed tears. “How can I ever thank you for everything?”

A small smile graced his mouth. “Well, now that you mention it.” He paused, took in a deep breath, and exhaled slowly. “The quality of your friendship makes you very special, my dear.” His carefully chosen words puzzled Celine.

“You honor everyone without prejudice,” he continued. “Everyone, that is, except Trevor.”

Startled, Celine's breath caught in her throat. “I . . . I don't know what you mean. I—” Guilt flooded in. Lord, had Justin found out what she'd done to his son last night?

“Please, Celine.” Justin's words grew even more measured. “I am not a naive man. I know there is conflict between the two of you. I don't understand what it could be since you said he has never made advances toward you, but could you do your best to treat him as you would treat anyone else today? That's all the thanks I ask for.”

Her voice barely made it above a whisper as she acknowledged him. “Of course.” If he only knew she planned to seduce Trevor—and soon, he wouldn't think so highly of her.

She swallowed hard and slipped her arm through his. With a toss of her head, she changed the subject. “Isn't this necklace a bit ostentatious to be wearing to breakfast?”

“Decidedly so.”

“I thought so.”

“Shall we?”

“Yes, let's.”

Together, they strolled into the dining room. She was startled to see how many people had already gathered at the long table. They'd begun arriving from New Orleans and upriver since the past evening, but she hadn't realized until they collected together that at least ten couples and two bachelors were already in attendance. Two of the three larger
garçonnières
on the plantation were filled, and the family was doubling up in bedrooms, Felicité sharing with her.

Justin made a round of introductions. Celine knew few in attendance—except, of course, the Widow Beaudrée, who appeared none too pleased to be seated between two older men.

Celine gritted her teeth at the sight of Giselle. How could she expect the woman to be excluded? After all, she was a neighbor who had opened her home to the overflow of guests. And would likely seduce the male half of them before the festivities came to a close.

Justin's chair was at the head of the table. He seated Celine to his right and excused himself to chat with guests up and down the table. Trevor was already seated directly opposite her. There was amusement in his eyes. “Sleep well, Celine?”

She couldn't help but laugh. “Indeed I did. What of you? Did you sleep well despite your ... ah . . . lengthy trip upriver and what must have been tedious business in New Orleans?”

He brought his glass to his lips, but not before a lazy smile touched them. Amusement flickered through his eyes. “You're quite the scamp. Do you enjoy playing dangerous games?”

“Dangerous?” This was it, this was the beginning of the seduction, and she was going to savor every moment of it. She had to part her lips to breathe properly.

He lifted a brow.

“You were missed,” she said, offering him a smile.

“By you?”

“Oh, I was flattened by grief.”

His husky chuckle rolled through her, touching every nerve in her body. “I was flattened as well recently, but not by grief, it would seem.”

Oh, this was delicious. “You don't say.”

Justin returned to his seat, the color in his cheeks high. “Ah, I see you two are getting on. Splendid.”

From the ballroom came the faint but clear strains of a violin as platters of cornbread smothered in honey, eggs in every fashion, biscuits covered in sausage gravy, chops of smoked pork, and fresh-caught catfish appeared on the plates and filled satisfied stomachs. Conversation flowed effortlessly—and noisily.

The clinking of empty cups being nestled onto their plates indicated breakfast was complete. Justin stood, thanked his guests, dipped his head to Celine, and departed the dining room. Dresses rustled as chairs were slid back and everyone except Celine, Trevor, and Cameron departed.

Cameron helped himself to a vacated chair next to Celine. He touched the necklace, his sigh exaggerated. “Exquisite, but sadly, you lack earrings to match.”

“I hardly—” Celine's stomach lurched. She stood. “Oh no, Cameron, you cannot mean to—”

“Indeed, I can.” He stood as well, and after smoothing his moustache, as was his habit, lifted a black velvet box from an inside jacket pocket. “And I did.”

Trevor excused himself, but not entirely. He moved to the carved fireplace at the far end of the room, leaned against its Italian marble frame, draped an arm on the mantel, and much to Celine's discomfort, waited.

Cameron opened the box, revealing the dazzling set of earrings.

Her hand went to her heart. Was that uncertainty she saw in Cameron? How could she possibly reject his gift when she hadn't rejected his uncle's? And Lord, but was Trevor standing in line with one as well?

Oh, dear.

Cameron took his time fastening the diamond-and-pearl earrings to each of Celine's earlobes. The sheer size of him was nearly overwhelming this close, but knowing Trevor stood behind her, watching everything, was more disconcerting than Cameron's heated nearness.

“I am simply at a loss for words, Cameron.”

“Then allow me to prompt you.” His lips curved into a jaunty smile; his eyes danced. “Thank you, Cameron. I will be certain to wear them in your presence in San Francisco.”

Before she could respond, Trevor's life force swept around her like a cloak, nearly shrouding Cameron's presence.

The light in Cameron's eyes dimmed. He glanced over his shoulder at his cousin, then back to Celine. A different kind of light flickered, one laced with what—anger?

Could it be he had intentions? She closed her eyes for a brief moment, as if the act would erase the implications that had struck her.

His words were terse when he spoke. “It seems there might be others in line.” With only a nod, he left the room, leaving her and Trevor alone.

“Cameron,” she called out, but he was gone. A cold arrow of pain shot through her heart at his hasty retreat. She must seek him out, set him straight—but after she met with Trevor.

She stood with her back to him in order to collect herself. When the beat of her heart returned to something that resembled normal, she moved to where he stood.

He gave her a half-smile.

There was something definitely different about him since he'd returned, but try as she might, she couldn't put her finger on the change. But then, she had changed as well, hadn't she? Her decision had been made and she would not back down.

Gently, he flicked an earring with his finger, then reached for the other, but not without caressing the underside of her chin along the way. Was he more serious now? Or was it only the moment? “There's no way out with him, but to face the truth. Whatever the truth may be.”

What did he mean by that? She nodded and swallowed hard. “I am . . . I have ... I see things plainly now. Cameron is a dear, dear man, but he will never be anything other than a friend. Here, or in San Francisco.”

Something indefinable flickered through his eyes. “Your heart would know.”

“I'll have a word with him.” A desire to lean into Trevor, to ask him to wrap his arms around her and pull her close, threatened to overwhelm her. She ached to bury her head in the warmth of his chest, if for no other reason than for comfort after what had just transpired. Oh, how she had missed him. And oh, she was determined to take this slow. Very slow.

He tucked his curled fingers under her chin, and tilted her compliant head back. The very air around them shifted, his action dispelling the heaviness of the last few moments.

“As I said earlier, you were a little scamp last night, but oh, so sweet this morning.” His voice rasped husky and low in his throat. “Thus, I have no alternative but to forgive you. However, forgiveness does carry a price.”

“Last night? Forgiveness?” Celine's heart lightened. “And what might that be, Mr. Andrews?” Had he gone to her room, only to find Felicité in Celine's bed?

Dark lashes swept lazily over smoldering eyes. “I should extract a kiss from you as your penance. But then, since it's your birthday, perhaps you should be on the receiving end.” He bent his head. “Either way, I win.”

She didn't protest as his lips pressed ever so gently against hers—only the barest of touches—but as sweet and tender a gesture as she'd ever known. After all, there was no one around to see them, so why not taste him once again? If only for the briefest of moments.

He lifted his mouth from hers, studied her.

She couldn't help but wonder what he was thinking. “I'll consider your kiss one of the nicest birthday presents, sir.” Her lips tingled, and she came away a bit light-headed.

“Was that better than last night,
ma petite?
” Trevor's voice grew even huskier.

She bit down on her lower lip to keep from laughing. “What are you talking about?”

“You would certainly remember far better than I what went on since I was the victim of a wicked dose of laudanum. And a lovely turquoise nightgown that matched the depths of your eyes. Will you wear it for me again when I am more in control of my senses? Tonight, perhaps?”

“You must be mad. I wasn't even on the premises last night. I gave up my room to . . . to accommodate other guests.” She wasn't about to tell him she'd slept in her cabin.

He tilted his head, amused. “Other guests? Come now.”

Again, she bit down on her bottom lip.

Trevor's fingers slipped into her mass of unbound hair. He twisted a lock, brought the tip under his nose. His nostrils flared. “Why didn't you stay,
ma petite?
” he murmured. “Why did you leave me?”

Celine drew the curl back. “Probably for the same reason you never remained when you made your midnight calls through your little passageway.”

He toyed with the curl. “So, sweet Celine, what shall it be, truce or stalemate?”

“Hmmm.” She drew out the moment, tilting her head this way and that. “How about checkmate?”

He laughed. “I'm afraid we're both far too strong-willed to ever acquiesce to a checkmate.”

They stood for a moment, contemplating one another amid a charged atmosphere. If he could read her thoughts, would he be surprised at their wickedness?

Something shifted in him. He slipped his hand into his waistcoat, and brought out a small, thin box in the same black velvet as those Justin and Cameron had presented. He opened it.

Inside, Celine found a simple gold bracelet resting on black velvet. When she lifted it from the box, she noticed a clasp unlike any she'd ever seen.

“Thank you. This is certainly unusual.”

Trevor took the bangle and slid it onto her wrist, sending little shivers up her arm at the touch of his fingers on her bare skin. He held the bracelet open. “The clasp is unique. See the little pin on this side?”

She nodded. Breathing was difficult with his nearness. She wished she could lean into his warmth and set her mouth to his neck.

“When it's inserted into the other side, the bracelet is permanently sealed onto the wrist.”

A jolt ran through her.

She regarded the circle of gold glinting at her wrist, then gazed back up at Trevor, searching for an answer to the intangible something that had shifted in him a moment ago. She tensed, the air she breathed mingling with his. The heat from his body increased, as if it were charged with a new kind of energy.

She did not move away.

She did not say no.

The click at her wrist sealed the bracelet on her arm.

Her heart quivered.

She leaned her flushed cheek against his chest for support. His arms encircled her, and he enveloped her in his heat, in his scent. If only she could stay like this forever.

Time stood still for a moment before his words floated across the top of her head. “Could this have been what my father meant when he asked us to respect one another today?”