His Dark Desires (8 page)

"By stowing away on our father's ship, my brother and I got a full tour of the coast of South America before our mother got her hands on us back in port. Though she had us on our knees for a week in penance, sore knees were well worth the price."

"I would love to stow away on a real ship and see the world," Andre said with enthusiasm.

Mr. Trevelyan quickly curtailed Andre's notions. "My brother and I had special circumstances. My father not only owned the ship, but was captaining it as well, so we knew we were safe. I've heard stories of young boys being sold for slaves when caught as stowaways."

"Truly?" Andre asked, horrified.

"Adventure is like a two-edged sword. The very next year, the adventure we took was the last one we made together."

"What did you do, monsieur?" Andre pressed, completely captivated by Mr. Trevelyan's words.

"We went on a treasure hunt. Both Benedict and I were sure an island in the bay concealed buried treasure. We'd seen the lights at night from our manor's tower, our raft was ready, and not even the heavy fog could stop us. Luckily, my brother left a note of our plans with Katherine, our sister, so she wouldn't worry. I thought the note unnecessary, for I was sure we would find the treasure and return home before she awoke."

"Real pirate treasure? Like gold?" Mignon asked, thrilled.

Mr. Trevelyan nodded. "Exactly. We pushed from the shore with poles until the water became too deep. Then we used oars. The fog was so thick, Benedict and I could barely see each other across the raft. We argued. My brother wanted to turn back, and I wanted to keep going after the treasure. Suddenly a ship appeared out of the fog and smashed right through our raft. We floated until we were rescued, because my brother managed to lash us to a barrel I ended up with a lung ailment that took months to recover from, and my brother bore the brunt of the criticism for our folly." His voice roughened. "It changed everything in our lives." Then he shook his head, as if he'd spoken too long.

"Things we experience when we are young can affect us forever," Ginette said softly, her eyes shadowed with what appeared to be pain. I wondered if she referred to the war, the years of it and how its aftermath had stolen our youth.

Andre frowned. The idea that a childhood jaunt could have long-lasting consequences did not sit well with him. Again, in just a few words, Mr. Trevelyan seemed to convey what I had been trying to get Andre to understand for years.

"My apologies. I did not mean to put a damper on the evening. Do you know I have never been to a carnival?"

"Never?" Andre sounded as surprised as I was. With Mardi Gras celebrated every year, carnivals were the flavorful spice of New Orleans's charm. A life without that taste seemed unimaginable.

"Then you are in for a treat," I said.

"I hope so," he murmured, his voice vibrating over my senses and heating my cheeks.

"You must let us show you all of the fun things to do, right,
Mère!
" Andre said, dispelling my hopes of escaping from Mr. Trevelyan's seductive presence.

Still, I tried to save myself. "I'm sure Mr. Trevelyan would—"

"Like nothing better than to have your company for the evening."

"Perfect," Mignon said. "Ginette can chaperone me with Monsieur Davis, and Andre can accompany you and Monsieur Trevelyan."

I shot Mignon an admonishing look. She knew very well Andre would likely run from one attraction to another so quickly that Mr. Trevelyan and I would often be alone. But there was little that I could say to change the arrangements without seeming contrary.

The music coming from Jackson Square reached us before the sights and smells did. We exited the carriage near St. Louis Cathedral. Mignon's dress caught on the carriage door, and Mr. Trevelyan helped free her.

I gazed over the square, waiting for them. The cool breeze off the Mississippi softly brushed my face as the passion of the celebration captured my blood. Musicians belted out a lively tune, garish clowns mingled with the crowd, and men and women shouted for the revelers to sample their wares or play their games.

"I was beginning to think you'd forgotten," Mr. Davis said, quickly approaching. He interjected himself between Mignon and Mr. Trevelyan, who'd just joined the rest of us. "I am so pleased that you came," Mr. Davis said, taking Mignon's hand.

She slipped her hand from his, but smiled. "It was a wonderful idea."

I introduced Mr. Davis and Mr. Trevelyan.

"Where did you say you were from, and your business?" Mr. Davis asked Mr. Trevelyan.

"I didn't," Mr. Trevelyan replied. "Nice evening, isn't it?"

Mr. Davis sighed, inching his spectacles further down his nose. "A hot evening, but nice. And nicer still now that the DePerri beauties are here."

I hid a smile. Mr. Trevelyan had politely curbed Mr. Davis's nosiness in one exchange, whereas Mignon, Ginette, and I hadn't been able to in two months. I wondered how effective Mr. Trevelyan would be in curtailing Mr. Latour's persistence in trying to buy
La Belle
.

"On that we can agree," Mr. Trevelyan said.

"
Mère
, I must try and win that bag of candy," Andre said, pointing to a nearby booth for tossing rings.

"Excellent idea," Mr. Davis said. "Meanwhile, I'll show Miss DePerri some jewelry. The necklaces are so colorful. Several would go well with your cream gown." He held his arm out to Mignon.

"We'd love to see them," Ginette said, taking Mignon's hand in hers.

After a moment's hesitation, Mr. Davis apparently resigned himself to having a chaperone and offered my sisters each an arm. "It will be an honor to escort two lovely ladies tonight. There's a green necklace that will match your dress perfectly," he told Ginette.

Breathing a sigh of relief, I turned to find Andre had already dashed to the booth. Mr. Trevelyan narrowed his eyes at Mr. Davis's back. "A rather rude gentleman."

"Other than talking too much, he usually isn't.  I think you made him jealous when you helped Mignon from the carriage. He's been calling on her."

"Does she return his interest?"

"No." I narrowed my gaze. "Why do you ask?"

"He doesn't seem to be the right sort of man for either of your sisters. Marriage to the wrong person can destroy lives."

He spoke with such conviction that I took a step back.

"You speak as if you've had a personal experience. Are you married?"

A muscle jerked in his jaw. "No. And I have never been, but I saw my brother's life ravaged by an arranged marriage."

I forced a smile, unable to hold his gaze as a pain hit my heart. "We had better catch up with my son."

Mr. Trevelyan caught my elbow. "Look at me, Mrs. Boucheron," he said softly.

I glanced up, and he slid his thumb under my chin to keep my gaze on him. "Your marriage was arranged, wasn't it?"

My stomach clenched, and my pulse sped. "
Oui
. His death in the war was tragic, but our marriage was fine. Being older, Jean Claude was patient and kind."

"How much older?"

I pulled back from him and started toward the booth where Andre stood clapping and happily shouting. Mr. Trevelyan edged too close to raw emotions I didn't want exposed.

He caught up to me. "I'm sorry," he said. "I had no right to probe into your personal life."

I sighed. Given the attraction between us, questions were inevitable. "It's not that," I said. "It's just that it doesn't really matter. My marriage gave me Andre, and I'll never regret that. Jean Claude was fifty."

I thought I heard Mr. Trevelyan curse under his breath, but I chose to ignore it, for I looked up to see Mrs. Gallier and Mr. Fitz approaching us.

"Excellent carnival, isn't it?" Mr. Fitz held up a fried confection. "I have never tasted food as good as the fare in New Orleans, and that includes your wonderful meals, Mrs. Boucheron."

"Thank you, Mr. Fitz."

Mrs. Gallier, who'd been scanning the crowd, turned and smiled. "We're just looking for Miss Vengle and Mr. Gallier. We seemed to have lost them in the crowd."

"We haven't seen them," Mr. Trevelyan said, setting his warm hand to my back. "We've just arrived."

"Then don't let us keep you. You know, Mr. Fitz, they may have stopped back there. A woman had some wonderful shawls for sale."

Nodding their good-byes, Mr. Fitz led Mrs. Gallier away.

Mr. Trevelyan's arm stiffened, and he turned me firmly toward the booth where my son stood. "Wait with Andre. I'll be back in a moment," he said, and left before I could question him.

I continued on to my son, but glanced back to see Mr. Trevelyan disappear behind a booth. The incident unsettled me. Reaching Andre, I found he wasn't alone. Phillipe Doucet and Will Hayes stood with him, and not far away was Letitia Hayes. I kept back from the boys, letting Andre have a few minutes with his friends.

Letitia, elegantly turned out in a rich black lace and burgundy dress, kept glaring at me. After a short time, she marched my way.

"Nice to see you again, Letitia," I said as she neared.

High color flagged her cheeks. "I have never been more embarrassed in my life. Don't you dare speak to me in public again! How dare you infer to Mrs. Drysdale and Mrs. Pitts my dress was as old as the ones you wear. They're presidents of the Royal Fashion Society, no less. That dress I had on was brand new, and I'll never be able to wear it out again."

Her anger over so trivial a matter surprised me. Had I ever been as caught up in fashion as she was? Every dress I owned had been bought before the war. Several people nearby turned to look at us. "You're right, Letitia. You do a good enough job embarrassing yourself."

"Mrs. Boucheron, forgive me for being delayed. The evening was quite empty without you by my side," Mr. Trevelyan said seductively, placing his hand against my back again as he stepped close to my side.

Letitia's eyes widened as she looked at him, clearly wondering why so sophisticated and richly dressed a man would have any interest in me.

"Monsieur Trevelyan, this is Madam Hayes, an old acquaintance of mine."

"Madam Hayes." Mr. Trevelyan nodded. "I'm sure you won't mind if I steal Mrs. Boucheron away. We've had so little time together that I am greedy for every moment"

"Of course," Letitia murmured.

Mr. Trevelyan swung me around and brought me to the edge of the crowd, acting like a besotted, attentive lover.

"You're incorrigible," I said, smiling at him.

"What I am is incensed. That woman is a witch."

"She used to be my friend. We grew up together."

"There's an old saying: 'With friends like that—' "

" 'You don't need any enemies,' " I said.

He smiled. "Besides, I didn't lie. The evening was empty without you."

"Where did you go?"

He shrugged. "I thought I saw someone I knew. I was mistaken." He glanced toward Andre, who now stood alone, about to take his turn at the ring toss. "Let's go win some confections. I have a sudden craving for something sweet."

Looking up, I discovered that Mr. Trevelyan had his gaze centered on my mouth. If I'd been capable of moving, I think I would have bridged the heated gap between him and kissed him. Instead, Andre called to us, and Mr. Trevelyan led me to my son. Regaining my sanity, I put my best effort into making the evening as much fun as I could. Mr. Trevelyan showed Andre some pointers on how to toss the rings, and they both won bags of sweets. We saw bears dance, had our fortunes told, watched magic tricks, and then saw a sleek black panther leap through a circle of fire. Mr. Trevelyan bought Andre and himself fur hats with tails, which I teasingly banned, declaring that I'd have no critters in my home. We didn't encounter Mignon and Ginette with Mr. Davis, but I didn't worry. There were so many people jostling about the square that they could have been standing next to me and I wouldn't have known it

The sun had dipped below the horizon and torches lit the square. The spires of St. Louis Cathedral cut a black silhouette against the dark blue sky. The moon, full and bright, hung low, just tempting a dreamer to reach out and grasp it. I didn't.

Andre ran to the next booth to watch a group of clowns juggling. Across the brick walkway, a trio of stringed musicians played a lilting waltz.

"It is your turn for a treat, and you must have that," Mr. Trevelyan said, snatching my attention. He pointed at a beautiful silver shawl that shimmered in the moonlight.

"No. But thank you. That is much too fancy and expensive. If you must buy me something, I'll take a hat to match Andre and yours," I said teasingly.

He caught a loose tress of my hair and sifted it between his fingers. "Midnight silk. It would be a crime to cover it up." Before I could catch my breath, he sauntered over to the woman selling the shawls and bought the silver one without even haggling over the price. Returning, he slipped it around me. The silken shawl made my plain blue dress feel like a ball gown. We were on the edge of the square, by the rush of the river, just within the flickering torchlight with few others around.

"Dare to dance with me a moment, here in the moonlight amidst the magic of the music and the night." His voice was low and seductive.

He had a way with words that could sweep a woman off her feet. I nodded and he took me in his arms and swung me gently around. He danced with assured elegance and grace, deftly moving me in a slow waltz. His black suit and embroidered vest, along with the flickering lights, made me feel as if I were once again at a masquerade ball, swirling with excitement, with life anew and happiness within my fingertips. I hadn't danced in over a decade, and as I gazed into Mr. Trevelyan's smoldering eyes, I knew I'd never known real desire before. He drew me closer to him, and a dark passion wrapped around me, making me want to touch him, to experience all those forbidden things kept hidden in the night.

"Mrs. Boucheron," he whispered, leaning toward me, his sensual mouth parting. I knew he would kiss me, that anyone strolling into the shadows would see, but I couldn't resist the lure of desire.

Just before his lips touched mine, just as his warm breath mingled with my expectant one, a scream splintered the night.