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Authors: Shirlee Busbee

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One of Leonie's slashing eyebrows shot up and she murmured disgustedly, "I doubt it! He is probably just more clever than Gayoso and means to have you think he is a good man... especially if you mentioned the amount of my dowry. It would tempt many men." Her expressive little face suddenly changing, the rebellion fleeing, and only anxiety and affection in the cat-shaped eyes, she begged, "Please,
please, grand-pere,
forget this nonsense! Let us take the money and spend it on the Chateau." Desperately she pleaded, "Don't go back to the governor's tonight—you will only drink and lose more money." Her voice urgent, she asked, "How much longer can you expect your vouchers to be respected? Sooner or later, they must be paid." Unable to look at her grandfather's proud features, in a low tone she rushed on, "You know it is only kindness that allows your friends to take your vouchers now—they all know you cannot pay them. What if Gayoso calls them in? And he may... if not this week, then the next or the next." Her eyes meeting his, she finished painfully,
"Grand-pere,
you simply cannot ignore the disastrous state of our finances and continue to gamble as if we had an unending source of money."

Leonie was very lovely as she stood before her grandfather, her eyes soft and luminous from the intensity of her emotions, the full mouth an enchanting curve of rose. For once the tawny hair was neatly confined in two shining coils about her small head and the apricot shade of the gown she wore gave her skin an even more golden tone than usual, but despite the charming picture she made, her words went deep, cutting into Claude's heart and pride like razors.

Shamed, outraged, his pride more damaged than it had ever been in his life, Claude reacted with arrogant fury. His mouth thinned with anger, he snarled, "If you were a man, I'd kill you for that!
Mon Dieu,
but I would! How dare you speak of things that you know nothing of!" In a voice shaking with rage, he said, "My vowels are accepted everywhere—no one would
dare
refuse Saint-Andre!" Throwing her a glance, almost of hatred, he snapped, "I
will
go as I damn well please! No one tells me what to do... and certainly not a female of sixteen!"

Her heart was filled with compassion and yet Leonie was furious with her grandfather as she watched him stalk from the room. She let out her breath in a long, gusty sigh and flung herself down in a nearby high-back chair. Once the chair had been covered in a glorious, burgundy velvet; now the nap of the material was worn and the color faded, but Leonie enjoyed the softness of the old velvet as she idly ran her hands over the arms of the chair, her thoughts churning distractedly.

The room showed the same signs of lack of money as did the Chateau Saint-Andre—the carpets, drapes, and furniture, all obviously elegant, expensive items, had been allowed to wear with age. There were only a few rooms of the townhouse that were actually still furnished—Claude having sold off the contents of the others long ago—but this room had always been one of Leonie's favorites. The places on the walls where exquisite paintings had once hung were apparent from the difference in color, but overall it was still a pleasant room, the carpet a warm shade of cream, almost yellow, the chairs of burgundy velvet, and the drapes at the windows in the same color and material giving it a striking appearance.

Zut!
But this was a nasty coil, Leonie mused unhappily as she sat staring blankly into space.
Grand-pere
was
so
stubborn at times!
I must think of something soon,
she decided grimly, after several minutes of furious concentration. And the first thing is those damnable vowels grand-pere has signed to Monsieur Gayoso!

Her little face somber with determination, she reviewed the situation and found it just as daunting as ever. Surprisingly, the proposed marriage was the least of Leonie's concerns—at the moment the most important things in her mind were saving Chateau Saint-Andre and, somehow, miraculously retrieving her grandfather's gaming vowels—which would be nearly impossible. But if she could prevent
grand-pere
from signing
more
vowels... or, and she sat up alertly, if there were some way of getting her hands on any
new
vowels he might sign!

Mon Dieu!
If only I could!
she thought fiercely. If only there was some way of snatching those little pieces of paper that would ultimately spell final ruin for them all. She frowned, unconsciously tapping her lips with one finger.
What if I were to follow grand-pere to the governor's tonight? Bah! And do what, you stupid creature—beg the governor not to accept your grandfather's vowels?

Leonie shuddered. No, she couldn't do that, not only would her grandfather
never
forgive her, but she wasn't so certain she could forgive herself for shaming Claude so.
But I must do something!
she cried silently.

If only grand-pere would forget about this silly idea of marriage... the money he was determined to throw away on a husband could be put to so much better use, if he would only listen. And not continue to gamble,
she added glumly. If he would just stay at the Chateau and oversee his lands, or let her do so, they could manage.... They could sell the townhouse, for despite its faded air the house and land it sat upon were valuable, and from its sale, not even touching the dowry, they could gain time... and who knows what would happen in a year or two? A few years of judicious economy and good crops, and they would be safe for a while. Not wealthy, not even well-to-do, but at least they would have their lands and their situation would be much better.
Anything
would be better than the current state of affairs, Leonie told herself cynically.

For just a moment she thought about the marriage that Claude was so set on.
What would
that
accomplish,
she wondered scornfully.
Absolutely nothing but to waste more good money!
Mon Dieu,
but I could shake
grand-pere!
If he thinks I will tamely submit to his dictates... ha!
Briefly she imagined herself and the unknown Monsieur Slade standing before the priest as he read them their vows.
Grand-pere
would be there, Yvette, Monsieur Slade's family, and perhaps a few of the good sisters from the Ursuline convent would also be witnesses. But witness to what? Leonie giggled, picturing the expression on everyone's face when she threw herself on the mercy of the startled priest and begged dramatically for sanctuary for herself and Yvette! She smiled to herself, the green eyes dancing with amusement.
And I'd do it,
she vowed passionately.
If grand-pere
forces me to, I shall do it!

The problem of the detestable marriage solved for the moment, Leonie once again turned her thought to her most pressing problem. Knowing, in view of their exchange this afternoon, that her grandfather was going to gamble with a reckless abandon tonight, if for no other reason than to prove to her that
no one
told Claude Saint-Andre what to do, she must think of a way either to stop him or to find a method of redeeming the vowels he would sign.

There must be a way,
she thought, unwilling to admit to defeat. A timid knock on the door interrupted her thoughts and scowling she snapped, "Who is it?"

The door opened slightly and Yvette peeked her dark head around the edge, "It is only me. Has your
grand-pere
gone?"

Leonie made a face and muttered,
"Oui!
And a good thing too—he is impossible today!"

Yvette sent her a gentle smile. "I think he is
always
impossible! What did he do this time?"

Leonie made some reply, but she did not tell Yvette the real reason, just as she had not told Yvette of her grandfather's ultimatum. She had not held back the information from any attempt to deceive Yvette, but rather to protect the girl. Yvette was such a sweet, unassuming soul that if she had the slightest idea that Claude was using her as a weapon against Leonie, she would promptly remove herself from Claude's area of influence.
And to do what?
Leonie had thought affectionately, find herself in practically the same situation that I am trying to keep her from.
Non!
Yvette must not know. I will think of something!

Yvette's presence in New Orleans had been tacitly and mutually agreed upon between Leonie and her grandfather. Neither one trusted the other not to take advantage of Yvette's unprotected state while the two principals were away from the plantation. At the moment, Yvette represented a treasure to Leonie and Claude, and neither one was about to leave it lying carelessly about for the other to snatch away. At least with Yvette here where she could see her at any time, Leonie felt a little safer. If Claude did try anything underhanded she would know immediately, but if Yvette had been left at Chateau Saint-Andre, it might be days before Leonie would learn that her grandfather had spirited the girl away—something Leonie wasn't about to let happen.

She thought for a moment of warning Yvette, but afraid Yvette would do something noble and completely unnecessary, Leonie stilled the words and continued to hide the true state of affairs from her half-sister. Besides, there was the fact that she didn't want to alarm Yvette and have Yvette spend the following days fearing the outcome of the latest battle between Leonie and her grandfather.
If only Yvette were more like me,
Leonie decided regretfully,
we could give
grand-pere
a fight he would remember for a long time.

Yvette took a chair opposite Leonie's and asked earnestly, "Leonie, what is it? I know you are hiding something from me. What did you two argue about this time?"

"Money, as usual. I cannot seem to make
grand-pere
understand that he is driving us deeper into debt. That if only he would stop gaming, we would not be in such straightened circumstances," Leonie answered, glad that she could tell part of the truth.

"And did he listen?"

Leonie shrugged her slim shoulders. "He listened and then stalked out in a black fury! He still thinks that one of these days he will begin to win." Cynically she added, "When one needs to win, one never does. And when one has all the money they could wish for...
then
one wins!"

A depressing silence fell between them, but as Leonie's spirits were never dampened for more than a few minutes, she suddenly jumped up from her chair and said briskly, "Bah! What silly little fools we are to sit around looking so gloomy! Come, let us go out into the courtyard—the sun is shining, and I'm certain I can wheedle some lemonade and pralines out of Bertha in the kitchen."

A few minutes later the two of them were seated under the huge, old pecan tree that shaded the bricked courtyard, and sipping the cool, refreshing lemonade and nibbling at the rich, sugary pieces of praline candy, Leonie instantly felt more confident than she had in days. Startling Yvette, who was staring dreamily off into space, she said suddenly. "I shall follow him tonight!"

"Your
grand-pere?"
Yvette asked. And at Leonie's vigorous nod, she asked with bewilderment, "But why? What can you do?"

Leonie slowly bit into the brown sugar confection. "I don't know," she answered honestly, "but I simply cannot sit here and let him continue to do as he pleases. I must find a way to stop him from throwing away what little money we have left."

"But, Leonie, you can't go about following your
grand-pere
like a shadow! Something could happen to you—he goes places that you should not even know about, much less see. He is gone all night—you cannot mean to roam the streets of New Orleans by yourself after dark! It is dangerous!" Seeing that her proper and common-sense words were having no affect on her volatile half-sister, Yvette asked desperately, "What do you think you can accomplish? What good can come of your rash actions? What do you think you can do?"

Leonie's face was set in stubborn lines and grimly she replied, "I'll think of something—I
have
to!"

 

 

 

Chapter 4

 

Despite Yvette's pleas and arguments to the contrary, Leonie remained adamant in her determination to follow her grandfather that night. Nothing Yvette could say dissuaded Leonie and finally in exasperation Yvette had cried angrily, "You are very like your
grand-pere!
You are just as stubborn and selfish as he is!"

Leonie had considered the remark seriously for a few moments and then returned thoughtfully,
"Non.
Stubborn, yes! But selfish, no."

Her temper roused as it seldom was, Yvette had glared at Leonie and with a very good imitation of Leonie's own expression of disgust, she had muttered, "Ah, bah! Do it then, see if I care." And with her head held high she had marched out of the room.

BOOK: Deceive Not My Heart
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