Desire and Deception (47 page)

It was quite some time before she drifted to sleep.

Jason acted quite as if the incident at the casino had never occurred. As agreed, he arranged to buy the
Kite
and hired a captain for the ship's first voyage, and two nights later he escorted Lauren to the theater.

She did enjoy the play. The Orleans Theater on Orleans Street had been destroyed by fire in 1813, but had been rebuilt to house traveling troupes who made their way to the city. The new building was impressive—boasting Doric colonnades,
a spacious
parquet, multiple galleries, and two tiers of private boxes.

Since their box was fairly close to the stage, Lauren had no trouble hearing, but she sometimes had to ask Jason to translate. The entire play was delivered in French, for even though New Orleans had been under American rule for a dozen years, French was still considered by many of its citizens to be the only civilized language.

Jason derived less pleasure from the entertainment than she did, for he was far too aware of Lauren sitting beside him. She looked stunning in one of the gowns he had selected for her—a high-
waisted
creation of ivory
sarcenette
. The décolletage was modest by current standards, but the bodice still left a great expanse of creamy flesh bare to his gaze. The distraction of those lush breasts kept Jason from concentrating, while the fragrant scent of her skin filled his senses and aroused an acute ache in him. He found himself extremely grateful for the semidarkness of the theater, since it hid the embarrassing swell in the front of his breeches.

By the end of the play, however, Jason had once again gained control of himself. When Lauren laughed again over the last lines of the comedy, he decided that the enchantment of her expression was worth any discomfort he might have felt. Smiling down into her shining eyes, he placed her wrap about her shoulders, then ushered her from the box, holding his arm protectively about her waist to prevent her from being jostled by the crowds filling the mezzanine.

They drew the attention of nearly everyone they passed. Lauren's haunting loveliness and Jason's commanding presence made them a striking couple, and more than a few heads turned to watch their progress as he escorted her down the sweeping staircase.

They had reached the first landing when Lauren suddenly stiffened. Jason followed her gaze to see Felix Duval at the foot of the stairs, staring up at Lauren with unconcealed desire. As Lauren's look of rapt joy swiftly faded, to be replaced by her habitual air of remoteness, Jason involuntarily tightened his arm around her, feeling an overwhelming urge to use his fists on Duval's leering face. "No doubt Duval recognized you," Jason murmured tersely as he steered her away.

Peering up at Jason, Lauren bit her lip. "I suppose you will now say it's my fault he looked at me like that."

The corner of Jason's mouth quirked in a smile.
"I don't think you can help being desirable, but I would prefer that you didn't tempt him again by appearing at the casino. Even though rescuing you is becoming a habit with me, I shouldn't care to spend a lifetime at it."

Lauren relaxed with Jason's familiar teasing. "I didn't ask you to," she rejoined.

"No," Jason laughed, "but I keep hoping you will."

After that, however, Lauren had little opportunity to visit the casino. Jason kept her evenings full, taking her to dine at a New Orleans restaurant, or escorting her to various social functions hosted by his growing circle of acquaintance, including a ball at a neighboring plantation.

As construction of the warehouses progressed, Lauren also saw more of Jason during the day. He took her shopping again, and to visit Running Deer at the cabin, but more often, he arranged long drives in the country.

Lauren's favorites of these impromptu outings of Jason's were the ones with no particular destination in mind: long, lazy spring days when they would explore some new spot of beauty and then hungrily attack the picnic lunch they had brought.

She was never alone with Jason on these outings. Kyle was often present, having returned from visiting his family in Natchez, and Running Deer frequently served as a guide, particularly when they explored the bayous by pirogue. When they picnicked on a section of the creek that ran through Beauvais property, Lila was on hand to act as chaperone. So was two-year old Charles, since Jason always insisted on bringing the boy
along.
Even when their chosen site was the Bellefleur gardens, there was always at least one other addition to the party.

It didn't take Lauren long to realize that Jason was purposely avoiding being alone in her company, and his evasion annoyed her, especially whenever she thought of Jason in Desiree's arms. As far as Lauren could tell, Desiree had lost him for a client. Indeed Jason appeared to be staying away from the gaming house altogether. Yet Lauren couldn't dismiss the image of Desiree's voluptuous body writhing beneath his while he murmured words of passion against her lips. The picture was enough to make Lauren's blood boil, for it made her recall how firmly Jason had rejected her.

One day some three weeks after the casino incident, Lauren complained to Veronique about Jason's indifference.

"Do not worry,
m '
amie
," the redhead answered with a shrug of her delicate shoulders. "That one is already caught and he knows it, but he will be the one to decide when to allow you to draw him in." Unconcerned, she continued her tour of the bustling shipping office, admiring the new furnishings and decorations.

Lauren interrupted Veronique's compliments. "You don't understand. Not only has Jason been ignoring me, he wouldn't even make love to me when I offered." When Veronique didn't reply, Lauren caught her by the arm. "Veronique, have you not heard a word I have said? I told you that I threw myself at Jason and he refused to have me!"

Veronique at last gave Lauren her full attention. "I heard you, Lauren. But it is you who refuses to listen.
Sacre
!
s
ometimes
you think like a child! So naive! But of course he would not make love to you. Monsieur Stuart is a gentleman, and you are a lady,
chérie
.
A young lady, at that.
He would not treat you otherwise, as if you were no better than a doxy. You re lucky you have not given him a disgust of you. You will have to change your ways if you plan to have him as a husband."

Astonished as well as hurt, Lauren threw up her hands.
"Not you, too!
Oh, can no one understand that I don't wish to be married?"

Veronique raised her eyes to the ceiling.
"
Merde
!
An imbecile, as well as a child! I go now, me." She began to gather up her shawl and reticule, but then the injured look in Lauren's eyes made her pause. Reaching out, she patted Lauren on the cheek.
"Ma
pauvre
petite.
I
think I understand. No woman could resist wanting such a handsome man for her over. But think first what you give up. With such a man you would have a lover and a husband as well."

"But I don't want a husband," Lauren repeated, trying to convince herself as well as her friend.

Veronique shook her head. "Take my word for it,
Lauren,
you do not want to lead my kind of life. It is far too lonely. I lave not even agree to Kyle's wish to have me to himself. He will leave someday and then I will have lost my other clients to he younger girls. But I would give anything to have my own man, a family,
children
to love."

"But that isn't what I want."

Veronique's look was both shrewd and compassionate. "You do not know what you want,
mon
chou
.
Give it time."

Lauren clenched her fists.
"While Jason carries on with any woman who strikes his fancy?
I will not!"

"If you are so jealous," Veronique said seriously, "then you must care for him."

The redhead took her leave then, but Lauren hardly noticed. She was staring blindly at the carpet, dazed, even horrified by her revelation. She had been slowly but irrevocably falling in love with Jason!

Lauren twisted her fingers together, wondering how she could have been so dimwitted. How could she have failed to see that trapping her with love had been Jason's intention all along? She had made a grave miscalculation, thinking she could keep him at a distance. She should have been warned from the first by the physical attraction between them, but instead she had allowed Jason every opportunity to wear down her defenses. Now he had managed to shatter the hard shell she had so carefully erected around her heart. Now she was hopelessly trapped. . . .

It was a bitter moment for Lauren. Despair coursed through her, and deep resentment, as well—resentment directed at Jason for the success of his plan. How difficult it would be to part from him when he returned to England! How much more painful to know she could never go with him!

And what of the present?
How could she bear to be near Jason while she pretended not to care? How could she hide her love from him when he always seemed to guess just what she was thinking?

Several hours later, Lauren discovered that facing Jason without betraying her inner turmoil was even harder than she had expected. To her dismay, he had chosen that evening to take her out alone, and her distracted air was all the more conspicuous without the presence of others. She couldn't even meet his eyes for fear of giving herself away.

The first part of the evening passed pleasantly enough, however. They attended another play, and if Jason noticed Lauren's strange mood, he forbore to comment on it.

Afterward they dined in a private parlor of
an
hotel, amid plush surroundings. The meal of braised veal and herb-stuffed quail was excellent, even though Lauren hardly tasted the little she ate. She drank quite a lot, though. Far too much, she realized during the last course. When the waiters at last left, she rose from the table, decidedly flushed and giddy.

She had never been inebriated before, but she discovered to her surprise that although her head was spinning violently, the wine had helped dull the pain she had been feeling. Clutching her temples, she stumbled over to the chaise longue in the corner and sat down heavily.

After a moment, she lifted her head and looked over at Jason. He was seated at the table, watching her over the rim of his glass. How handsome he is, Lauren thought dizzily, seeing his gilded chestnut hair reflect the candlelight. His compelling masculine looks were enhanced by his formal attire, his burgundy coat fitting his broad shoulders to perfection. She felt the strongest urge to remove his clothes and caress his magnificent body. . . .

"How per . . . feet!"
Lauren mumbled, attempting to speak. She was amazed at how difficult it was to keep the words from sounding slurred. "The stage is set for a . . . seduction scene . . . Jason."

Jason's mouth twitched.
"No, my sweet.
I don't seduce young ladies who can't hold their liquor."

"You don't have to. You see, I plan to . . . seduce you," Lauren announced in a husky voice.
Then
she ruined the effect by moaning, "
if
you will only stop moving." Lying back against the cushions, she pressed a hand to her aching forehead.

Jason chuckled. "Don't go to sleep, Lauren. It won't help your reputation if I have to carry you from the hotel."

"Devil
take
my reputation! What difference does it make, anyway? I'm already a fallen woman. You said I was used . . . used goods at a market. Is that why you don't want me?"