Josette (20 page)

Now it was Josette's turn to feel heat in her cheeks. “I won't go so far as to answer that. At least not today. Perhaps one day.”

“I know I speak out of place, but you have the advantage of being a refined lady who also lived a life in the bayou. You are a unique mixture of loveliness and grit that I have always admired. There are many men, not only in New Orleans, but throughout the world, who would want to give a woman like you what she requires. Not what she needs, but what she requires. Right now, your brother gives me what I require.”

A knock sounded on the door and Elise stood. “I'll answer that, Madame.”

She opened the door and stepped back with a gasp.

René walked into the room. Two uniformed police officers followed him.

Josette shot to her feet, her heart in her throat. “What is it? What's happened?”

René glanced from Elise to Josette. “Alexia has been seen stealing. Her actions have been so blatant, it's as if she's on a mission to be caught.”

“How do you know this?”

One of the police officers stepped forward. “She pilfered a flour sack from one of the merchants without trying to hide the fact. By the time he located me, several merchants were after her, along with a number of pedestrians. That's when my colleague met up with me. We chased her, but even with her bag of goods, she outran us. We'll find her eventually, and she'll be arrested.”

René turned to Josette. “We know where our niece is,
oui
?”

Unable to find her voice just then, she nodded.

“I'll go after her,” René said. “I'll see that everything is returned.”

The officer shook his head. “Returning what she stole will certainly make things go a bit easier on her, but let's face facts, Thibodeaux, she'll only do it again. If she can break the law like an adult, it's time she paid the price like one.”

“I give you my word,” René said. “I'll collect her and bring her to you before noon tomorrow.”

“Very well.” The officer gave a derogatory snort. “You, of all people, would know where to find the district station. God knows the number of times you were dragged there once you were old enough to pick pockets.”

When they'd gone, Elise took her leave as well. Josette slumped into a chair opposite her desk. “What in the world could have prompted her to terrorize the Quarter?”

René swiped his hand over his face and sat in the chair beside her. “It would appear we've all had a bad day.”

“What do you mean?”

“You already know Bastièn got into it with Cameron. Then Cameron and I butted heads. Suffice it to say, we both lost our tempers, and he sacked me. I then departed the shipping office, but not before leaving behind a few choice words.”

“Oh, for God's sake, René! But what in the world does that have to do with Alexia?”

“While Michel was busy reinstating my position, he told me that Alexia overheard Cameron telling his cousin to arrange for passage on the next ship out so Cameron could be done with the Thibodeaux family once and for all.”

Josette's fingers went to her lips. “Oh, no. Did Cameron go after her?”

René propped his elbows on his knees and couched his chin in his hands. “He did, but with no luck, so he retreated to his town house while I went after her.”

“No matter how he feels about us, he should be horsewhipped for being so careless with his words.”

“Josette, you sound like Maman. Cameron only meant Bastièn and me, but you know Alexia. Hurt her feelings, and she reacts with a blank stare and coldness that could freeze the Mississippi. Then she turns hot, and only God knows what she'll do in retaliation.”

“Perhaps I had better go collect her.”

René stood. “You know Maman will side with Alexia if you show up. I'll go.”

He was right. In fact, if Josette went after Alexia, it would only worsen things. She stood as well. “I'll see you out.”

“Don't bother. Go home, Josette. You look fatigued.”

She rubbed the knots at the back of her neck while she stood at the door until René had gone. Then she fitted her green hat on her head, grabbed her matching parasol and a reticule that held the blasted articles Bastièn had presented to her.

She marched out the door and headed straight for Cameron's town house.

He should be guzzling lemonade in the middle of this sultry afternoon, not sipping brandy. What the hell, it might help relax his tight neck. Cameron untied his cravat and gave it a toss. He smiled to himself when it landed neatly over the stair's banister. After all these years, he hadn't lost his touch.

Heaving a sigh, he removed his jacket and vest, rolled back his sleeves, then sprawled on the sofa. He glanced around the dimly lit parlor. The housekeeper must have drawn the heavy velvet curtains before taking her leave.

Merde
. What a day. Every bloody muscle ached.

He didn't like admitting it, but that blasted confrontation with Bastièn had unnerved him. Then there was the good-bye letter to Dianah that had nearly torn a hole in his heart. By the time another Thibodeaux had given him the what for, he was ready for a spot of brandy. But what topped the cake was that wretched chase after Alexia in this deplorable heat. What he wouldn't give to take back his words. That look on her face before she'd run off would likely haunt him for the remainder of his life.

He kicked off his shoes and stretched out his legs. What remained of his day would be spent right where he sat. He picked up the brandy snifter, gave a slow swirl of the amber liquid and stared into its amorphous depths. Perhaps it would be best if he slept on the idea of leaving town in three days. Or at least waited to see what transpired after Alexia returned. His gut burned, but not from the spirits. Doing the right thing by her was vital—whatever the right thing might be. He knew for certain leaving her in New Orleans wasn't an option. Something Josette had known all along.

Just thinking Josette's name, and that inexplicable craving ran through him again. For pity's sake, hadn't last night been enough of a romp to slake his lust? The lingering need had to be the result of his lengthy celibacy. What else could it be but his body wanting to make up for lost time?

But oh, hadn't she been something?

No.

Hadn't
they
been something?

She'd made it clear he'd left her well satisfied. At least he'd given her his all. That wasn't quite right, either. What transpired between them seemed as natural an act as breathing, so it hadn't been a matter of him
trying
to do anything. They'd been in unison with their wants and needs, as if they'd been together before, yet every nuance of their coupling, every taste of her flesh had been a new awakening.

A shuffling noise caught his attention. He sat up straighter, his hearing turning acute. The sound came from the rear of the house. Hadn't the housekeeper left yet? She was supposed to come mornings only.

A familiar figure from the past appeared.

“Marie?”

“Sure 'nuff,
Mischie
Cameron.” A wide grin broke out on the maid's face. “I fell asleep back there so I didn't hear you come in, beggin' your pardon.”

An old, comfortable feeling slid inside him. She still called him
mischie
, her pet name. He relaxed back into the sofa and took up his brandy. “Did Uncle Justin send you down from Carlton Oaks once he learned I was here?”

“No, sir. I been working at
Mischie
Michel's place here in town for a while now. My mama is there, so he thought it best I tend to her and him both.”

Egads, her mother still lived? The woman had been ancient when Cameron was a child. So the old lady would live out the rest of her days with her daughter by her side. Good.

He grinned. “Aren't you a welcome sight?”

She folded her arms over her chest and sized him up. “You got yourself quite the daughter, I been hearing.”

He held the brandy glass to his lips and watching her over the rim, took a swallow. “You've had a little tête-à-tête with Miss Felicité.”

Marie's eyes twinkled. “Can I talk you into some of my beignets you used to hanker for? Haven't lost your taste for 'em, have you?”

He saluted her with the snifter. “Miss Marie, the day I have no appetite for your beignets is the day you can cart me off to the nearest cemetery because I'll have died.”

Her light laughter settled around Cameron like a well-used blanket. “I got to fetch me some eggs,
mischie
. But I'll hasten right back.” She eyed his brandy. “I'll be fixin' you some of my good café au lait to go with them beignets.”

So here she was, back in his life after he'd been gone years, and already she was taking control. “It's sinfully hot out there. Are you sure you want to brave the heat for a few eggs?”

She scurried down the hall, her lilting laughter trailing behind her. In moments, she returned with an empty wicker basket on her arm and wearing a crumpled brown hat. Jesu, she still prized that old thing? The least she could do was toss the scraggily feather.

She was out the door, only to return moments later. “Pardon me,
mischie
, but there's a lady here to see you.”

“Who?”

“A Madame LeBlanc. A right pretty lady, but she's in a temper.”

He mumbled a curse. “She's my daughter's aunt, and she's not happy with something I said. But then, neither am I, so send her in.”

Mischief flashed in Marie's eyes. “Lawdy, it's like you ain't never left. Always one thing or another going on with the ladies.” She exited the house humming to herself.

Cameron didn't bother moving. Not yet, anyway. He'd do the gentlemanly thing when Josette appeared, but until then . . . he drained his brandy.

The door opened. Then slammed shut with a loud bang.

“Oh, do come in,” he muttered. He set down the empty snifter and stood. “Welcome to my home, Josette. At least I'm here to greet you so you won't have to pick locks.”

She trooped in, a firestorm in a froth of pale green, the large brim of her matching hat bouncing in rhythm with the womanly sway of her hips. Damn, she was beautiful. Even her flashing eyes added to her allure.

His pulse tripped, and for a moment, his awareness contracted to a fiery place low in his belly.

“I know, I know. I said something Alexia shouldn't have overheard, and now René's gone looking for her. He'll bring her here, at which point I shall apologize until I am blue in the face. That said, good afternoon.”

He shouldn't want to kiss her. He really shouldn't.

She leaned her parasol against the wall, then set her reticule on a side table. Opening the string closure, she peeked inside the bag, then gave it a little shake and yanked the cords tight.

“Hmm. That was an interesting exercise in I don't know what. Have a seat.”

“I won't be staying, you lout. Are you aware the police are looking for your daughter?”

A shock wave hit him, draining away whatever pleasure the sight of Josette had brought him. “What the devil for?”

Her eyes flashed, dark and ominous. “She's gone on a rampage, that's what the devil for.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose while he struggled to arrange his muddled emotions into some semblance of order. “Because of what I said?”

“So it would seem.”

Josette moved closer to him. He caught her scent, that wonderful, light, feminine essence that coated her skin. He knew, because last night he'd licked every inch of it. “What Alexia overheard was regrettably worded. I tried to apologize, but she took issue with me and ran off. What kind of rampage?”

“After she left you, she went from store to store stealing things.” Josette paused to let her words sink in.

His jaw clamped shut. “Go on.”

“She stole from people on the street. Blatantly stuffed her bounty into a flour sack—one she'd filched—and ran off.”

As Josette stared at him, her eyes began to shimmer. His heart gave a squeeze. Hell, she was near tears. He took a step toward her.

She stepped back. “Don't touch me.”

He spread his arms out, palms up. “Fine. I won't touch you. I'll retrieve Alexia and whatever items she stole. Do you have any idea where she might have gone?”

“Where do you think?” Josette fisted her hands on her hips. “Alexia is likely bestowing her ill-gotten gain on Maman as we speak. Thank you very much, Cameron. You delivered your daughter right into her grandmother's greedy hands.”

He swiped a hand over his brow. “Then show me where your mother lives and I'll collect Alexia.”

Josette crossed her arms around her waist. “René has gone after her.”

Cameron watched the shadows in the room play across her stormy eyes and gorgeous face. “One thing I've recently learned about your brother is that he's a man of his word. He'll bring her back, and when he does, I'll see to righting the wrongs.”

“He won't bring her here, you fool.” Amidst their shimmering, her eyes flashed renewed fury. Her foot tapped a rapid rhythm. “He's to deliver her to the police by noon tomorrow along with all the stolen items.”

Cameron's breath froze in his lungs. “Good Christ, that can't be. She's a child.”

“Oh, I can assure you, I know of what I speak. The officer who marched into my shop behind René said he intended to treat Alexia as an adult.” Josette turned her head from Cameron's gaze, as if fighting for more control. “With her family background, she'll likely play scapegoat for all our sins.”

Now Cameron's temper went to flame. “Are you forgetting she has another family? The Andrews name means something around here. I'll see to having things in order with the law before René turns her in.”

That bit of news didn't do what Cameron had expected. Instead of growing calmer, her fury grew.

“Damn you, Cameron. Using your name to settle matters only sends a message that she can do whatever she wants and her papa will take care of it.”

Right then and there, he made his decision—he would definitely leave on the
Simone
. “It will sure as hell resolve a few things until I can get her out of here. Which will take place in three days, at most. In the meantime, she's in good hands with her uncle, and there's no need for either one of us to worry over her. At least for the rest of the day.”

Josette lips parted. “You're leaving so soon?”

He swore he saw panic and confusion flicker in her eyes, but whatever he'd seen was gone before he could ponder it. “I hadn't made a firm decision until now.”

“Did I hear you right? You're taking Alexia with you?”

“Yes.” He shoved his hand through his hair. “In the meantime, you have no need to concern yourself with her well-being. René has likely found her by now. She'll listen to him.”

“But he gave his word he'd deliver her to the police.”

Cameron blew out a breath so heavy it filled his cheeks. “If you don't want me to intervene, then the little thief can jolly well rot in a jail cell for a couple days. Perhaps she'll learn a lesson or two. At least she won't be running off where I can't find her.”

“You can't mean that.”

“Of course I don't, but I'm her father so I can think it, can't I?”

Josette's lips twitched. “What if she refuses to go with you?”

Some of the ire had filtered out of her voice. Cameron relaxed a bit. “At this juncture, I'm not so foolish as to introduce the subject to her. It would be best to let her think she's going upriver with Felicité for a while. You can pack some of her clothing in a small bag. At the last minute, have the remainder sent ahead of us to the ship. When it's time to sail, I'll collect her, even if I have to carry her over my shoulder like a sack of flour.”

Annoyance flashed again. “She'll hate you.”

“Do you have a better idea?”

Josette shook her head. “Then I'll hate you.”

He nearly choked on bemused laughter. “That's your better idea? And no, you won't hate me, Josette. You're angry and worried, and I can't blame you.”

He settled his gaze on her, his own anger dissolving like so much salt in water. He tamped down the urge to put his arms around her and offer comfort. “You've had a fright. We all have, but I promise, everything will be all right.”

Whatever went through her mind just then, her expression shifted. He frowned. “Is there something else besides Alexia that has you bothered?”

She took in a long breath, exhaled, and straightened her spine. “You had no right to order Bastièn to move into my home.”

What the hell? Cameron let go a contemptuous grunt. “He said that, did he?”

“Said it? He's already moved his things out of that bordello and into one of my rooms upstairs. Says he'll get the rest of his belongings from Maman's tomorrow.”

Cameron gave a rude laugh. “Isn't he the right clever bastard? He thinks I'm not leaving for ten days, so he's decided to beat me at my own game and move in immediately. Pray do not tell him I'll be gone in a mere three.”

The way she held herself, her head tilted back, a new fire in her eyes, told Cameron she hadn't finished with him.

“And how dare you give him information about my personal life? You had no right.”

This, he was not expecting. “I did no such thing.”

She nodded toward her reticule. “Then why did he give me a variety of . . . of
things
and say to tell you they were gifts from a Mr. Goodyear, and the Earl of Condom?”

“Oh, good God!” Cameron burst into laughter. “That ass plays one hell of a game of retribution.”

“What do you mean?”

“He's moved in with you and given you a selection of condoms. You do know what they're meant for, don't you?”