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Authors: Shirlee Busbee

BOOK: Deceive Not My Heart
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"Somebody obviously did."

"Precisely."

"Oh-ho! I think I begin to see a glimmer of what is going on."

"Well, it occurred to you quicker than it did me," Morgan muttered. "It was only last night that I realized there was at least
one
piece of the puzzle missing—Justin's father!"

Briefly and succinctly, Morgan told Dominic what he suspected, and Dominic, willing to follow his lead, could find no fault with his reasoning. It all made sense. And even though they discussed the possibility that Leonie was doing it all on her own, both men dismissed that idea. No, both felt there had to be a man in the background. They discussed the idea of Claude Saint-Andre still being alive but decided against it. The plot had the feel of a younger man, a lover, or a pimp. Definitely a clever man had supplied the forgeries and had selected Morgan as the present candidate for plucking.

"If we can find him," Morgan said grimly, "I think we can expose the entire charade."

"The servants and Yvette all tell the same tale?"

Ruefully Morgan admitted, "Hell, yes. I questioned them as closely as I dared, but they all say the same thing. I've tried every way I know, without arousing their suspicions, to trap just one not conforming to the story, but so far they've proved cleverer than I am."

Dominic looked at him disgustedly. "Knowing you're not married to her, why the hell did you go ahead and acknowledge her?"

A wry smile on his face, Morgan said, "With you and everyone else believing the worst of me, with Leonie waving those damned marriage documents with my signature on them under my nose, with the parents positive that Justin is my very image at the same age, what in God's name could I do? Besides"—Morgan suddenly grinned—"if you've taken a truly assessing look at my dear, little wife, I think you'll understand completely why I wasn't averse to accepting the rights of a husband."

"That thought
had
occurred to me. She's damned, appealing, I'll grant you that." Shooting his older brother a speculative glance, Dominic asked, "Well, what do we do about the situation?"

"At the moment, I don't know," Morgan confessed. "I've written to Jason in New Orleans, hoping that, perhaps, he can find out something down there. I have the queerest feeling that the truth, if there is any truth to discover, lies in New Orleans." Morgan let out a sigh. "Dom, I have never felt so helpless in my entire life. I
know
she's lying. And, fool that I am, by confirming her story, I've dug an even deeper pit for myself than the one she prepared. My only hope seems to be to find the man,
if
there is a man—sometimes, I even wonder about
that—
and shake the real truth from him."

"What about Gaylord Easton?" Dominic offered slowly.

Morgan grimaced. "I've thought of him, but..." Morgan's voice trailed off, a frown creasing his forehead as he reconsidered the idea. Thoughtfully he mused, "It could be, Dom, it just could be. It was Gaylord who brought her to the hall. Gaylord who supposedly met her at King's Tavern. And if anyone had reason to wish for my discomfiture, it was young Mr. Easton."

"Of course! Morgan, that has to be it!" Dominic said quickly, the gray eyes flashing with excitement. "Who would suspect him? And it's well-known he needs money. For all we know, Leonie has been his mistress for years. After all, gentlemen don't go around flaunting their whores, or their bastards for that matter. Certainly he would have been discreet and kept her and the child nicely tucked away... and you could damn well wager your last penny that she wouldn't be introduced to polite society. Gaylord has a reputation for being a bit of a wild one, so why not? Why couldn't he be the man behind it?"

"He might not be the mastermind,
if
such a figure does in fact exist, but I do think it behooves me to have a long conversation with Mr. Easton, don't you?"

"By God, yes!"

Unfortunately, when Morgan called at the Easton ancestral mansion that afternoon, he was met with the unpleasant news that young Master Easton had decided to visit with relatives in Baton Rouge and wasn't expected home for several months. Gaylord's absence seemed sinister, almost as if having set the plan in motion, he now removed himself from the source of danger... or had he gone to meet with the
real
mastermind? Morgan wondered sourly.

Some judicious questioning by Dominic of a few of Gaylord's cronies, shortly after Morgan returned with the news of Gaylord's departure, elicited the information that the elder Eastons, upset and distressed by his part in the ugly scene at the Marshalls' ball, had literally ordered him to remove himself for several months from the district.

"They want everything to die down before the darling boy shows his face again. Or, I should say, that's the tale they're telling," Dominic said dryly.

"You think it might not be true? Or merely convenient?" Morgan asked quietly as they sat in his study that evening before joining the ladies for dinner.

"Damned convenient, if you ask me. He wants to lie low for a few months, and his parents providentially furnished him with a perfect excuse to leave Natchez." Glancing over at his older brother as Morgan absently sipped a glass of well-aged Kentucky whiskey, Dominic inquired, "What are we going to do now?"

"You," Morgan said slowly, "are going to remain here and make certain that my dear wife and son don't suddenly disappear, and I—well, I think that I shall take a brief trip to Baton Rouge. It
was
Baton Rouge where Gaylord went, wasn't it?"

 

 

 

Part III

Whispers on the Wind

There was never any yet that wholly

could escape love, and never shall there

be any, never so long as beauty shall

be, never so long as eyes can see.

Daphnis and Chloe

Longus

 

 

 

Chapter 18

 

It was a fast, grim trip that Morgan made down the Mississippi River to Baton Rouge that June of 1805. Litchfield, after a certain amount of argument between Dominic and Morgan, went with him. As Dominic had heatedly pointed out, and Litchfield had swiftly agreed, they had no way of knowing precisely what Gaylord was doing in Baton Rouge. It
was
possible he had gone to meet with another member involved in the charade—the man who might be the mastermind, and if by chance this was true, Morgan might find himself in need of protection.

Time was of the essence, as much because Morgan had a growing need to have things settled as because he feared that Leonie might somehow escape Dominic's watchful eye and disappear as swiftly as she had appeared. It had been decided to tell no one of his trip until after his departure so that no one could interfere. It also gave him a head start if Leonie tried to send any messages warning Gaylord. Naturally not a breath of his real reason for traveling so suddenly and unexpectedly to Baton Rouge came to light. Dominic stoutly maintained the fiction that Morgan had decided that he wished to move his newly acknowledged family to his own property, Thousand Oaks, and had gone to inspect it and see that work was begun to make it comfortable for his bride. Noelle looked at Dominic closely, and Matthew's lips thinned, but no one challenged him.

Predictably, Leonie had been furious when Dominic had broken the news to her that morning. The ugly scene with Morgan the previous day had hardened her resolve to resist the attraction he held for her and to forge ahead with her original plan.

After the things he had said to her in his office, and the way he had treated her, it was painfully apparent to Leonie that her first assessment of him had been correct.
He is,
she had thought scathingly the previous night as she had lain sleepless in her bed,
a handsome, dangerous serpent! Mon Dieu, that I should have been fool enough to believe even for one moment that he might have changed.

Growing angrier by the second, as much at her own folly, as at his trickery, it wasn't surprising that when she did finally fall asleep she slept badly and woke like an enraged tigress. Intent upon at last letting Monsieur Morgan Slade know
exactly
what she thought of his tactics and of settling things between them once and for all, when she learned from Dominic that Morgan had left at dawn to make ready a house she had no intention of ever setting eyes on, she was engulfed with fury.

Dominic had been in the breakfast room at Le Petit when Leonie entered. She was taken aback at first, but as she had grown used to Dominic, as well as Robert, more or less running throughout the house at will she hadn't thought much about it; she wasn't going to let Dominic's presence interfere with what she had to say to his brother.

They exchanged greetings and then casually Dominic informed her of Morgan's departure. There was a thunderstruck silence in the charming little room and then with one small foot tapping with ominous rhythm, the golden flecks in her eyes glowing dangerously, she regarded Dominic unnervingly for a long moment. In a tight voice she demanded, "He has left already? For Baton Rouge?"

Dominic smiled and gave her a correct little bow. "That is correct, madame. He wished to tell you himself, but the boat was leaving at dawn and he was certain you would understand."

Holding on to her rising temper by a slender thread, Leonie took a deep breath and asked levelly, "When will he return?"

Dominic shrugged his shoulders. "I really couldn't say. I suspect it depends upon how long it takes him to get things in order at Thousand Oaks. He might be gone for only a week... or a month. It all depends."

"A
month!"
Leonie burst out appalled, the devastating thought occurring to her that if Morgan did indeed remain away from Le Petit for that period of time, any hope of regaining Chateau Saint-Andre would be shattered. Almost despairingly she added, "But he can't be gone that long. Not a month!"

Up until this moment Dominic had found the confrontation going as he had expected, but the stricken expression that had flitted swiftly across her lively face disturbed him, and suddenly he didn't find himself quite so aloof. "Is something wrong?" he felt compelled to ask.

Recovering herself, unwilling to let one of the detestable Slades see her pain, Leonie sent him a bitter, proud little smile. "Wrong, monsieur? Now why should you think that?"

At a loss, Dominic muttered, "I don't know, you looked... you looked
hurt."

Again furious, Leonie snapped, "Does it matter that I might be hurt, monsieur? Does it matter that because your brother has proven himself a dishonorable man that I may lose the only home I have ever known? I never wanted to be his wife!
Never!
It wasn't to take my place as his wife that I came to Natchez. It was only to receive what was mine, what was promised to me when I agreed to marry him." Taking an angry step nearer to him, her cheeks flushed with the emotion that ran deep within her, she said fiercely, "I never wanted anything from him but what was mine, and I didn't even want that for myself. I wanted it to save my home, the home my great grand-pere carved out of the swamps, the home where my
grand-pere
was born, where my father was born, and where I and my son were born. It is our
home,
can you understand that? Chateau Saint-Andre is dear to me,
dearer
to me than Bonheur is to your family!" The golden-green eyes shimmering behind a veil of tears, she spat, "I had until the first of July to repay the debt on it and now by your brother's cowardly act of running away, of reneging on his debt to me, he has deprived me of any chance of saving it. And you dare to say I look
hurt!"
Mortified at her outburst, choking back the tears that threatened to spill, she whirled on heels and fled the room.

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