Kathleen Y'Barbo (42 page)

“But this one is fine,” Millie protested. “It is not what I was used to back in Memphis, but I left rather quickly and had to settle for what I could find.”

“And it shows.” Mrs. Russell spoke in rapid French to the trio of merchants. Two hours later, Millie had been primped and prodded and poked with pins, but she also had the beginnings of a lovely spring wardrobe.

“Remember, I want that emerald ball gown ready for a final fitting on Friday,” Mrs. Russell told the staff as Millie watched.

“Friday? But that is only two days away, madame. One and a half, if you consider it is already past lunchtime today.”

The elderly man with the pincushion affixed to his wrist began arguing in rapid French. However, Mrs. Russell seemed completely oblivious to his concerns.

“Thank you for that reminder, Jacques,” she said as she moved in to give him a kiss on both cheeks that did not quite touch lips to skin. “Millie and I are famished. These fittings are absolutely exhausting. I do not know how I endure them.”

When the dressmaker continued to argue the impossibility of the timetable she demanded, this time in a combination of French and English, Mrs. Russell reached out to touch his sleeve. “You are such a dear. This is why all the ladies love your work. Mr. Worth has nothing on you and your brilliance. He could learn from you, and that is the truth.”

“Yes, well, Worth, he is good, but I am...well, I am modest. But Madame Russell, I must protest the request you are making of me.”

“Oh, dear.” In an instant, she affected a pout Millie could only marvel at. “And I had so hoped our dear friend would be introduced to the best of the best New Orleans society at a ball I am giving. But if the dress is not ready, then I suppose I could find one of Mr. Worth’s garments for her to wear. A pity, I know, and yet...”

With that, Josephine Russell had calmed the dressmaker and secured an appointment for an interim fitting on Thursday at three o’clock sharp.

“I will not be available to come with you to the fitting tomorrow, but I am sure Kyle will accompany you,” she said as she settled into the carriage. “I am absolutely certain he would do anything you ask.” Millie’s laughter was met with an astonished look. “Do you doubt me?”

“I am afraid I do.”

“Well, then.” Mrs. Russell gave instructions to the driver. Turning back to her guest, she said, “You are simply not asking him correctly.”

“A ball in your honor?” Kyle thundered over the sound of the carriage wheels as they rolled out of the courtyard. “Absolutely not!”

“Apparently I have not asked you correctly,” Millie said softly as she shrugged deeper into her winter wrap.

He gave her a sideways look. “What was that?”

“Nothing,” she said with what she hoped would be an innocent look.

“It is bad enough that my mother assumed I would have nothing better to do this afternoon than accompany you to a dressmaker’s fitting.”

“To be fair, you did throw quite a tantrum when I left the house unescorted. It was over sealing wax, as I recall.”

“I do not throw tantrums,” he stated firmly. “And if I had spoken in a forceful manner, it would have been because of the danger you put yourself into. This, however, is a dress fitting. What could possibly happen?”

“Spoken like a man who has never been poked with a pin or required to stand still practically without breathing for what feels like hours.”

After a look at the expression on Kyle’s face, Millie decided a change of topic was in order. “Enough of that. I wonder why there has been no response from my letter.”

“You must be patient. It is possible the woman is away or...”

“No longer alive,” she supplied. “I have thought of that. I wonder if we could check on that. Perhaps find the house after the dressmaker’s fitting. Maybe just knock on the door to see if Mrs. Koch is at home.”

“Unannounced? And without invitation? I don’t know if that is advisable.”

“Perhaps, but it is something to consider. I know you think I am impatient, but I have lived for years with the belief I had no relatives left other than my father. Though Cook has been more like family than anyone else, she is not a blood relative.” She swiveled to face him. “But to find another person who shares my lineage? It is such a nice surprise.”

“Agreed, but I wonder why your servant took so long to mention it. Have you considered the possibility that she has made this woman up and that there is no Mrs. Koch? Or that there is no relative of your grandmother living on Royal Street at all?”

She had, but hearing Kyle say the words aloud still stung. The carriage clattered on while Millie mulled over a response.

“There is something else, Millie. I know you feel your cook is as close to you as family.” He paused as if considering his words. “Would she have any reason to want you out of your home in Memphis?”

“I am sure she has plenty of reasons for wanting me out of that home, most of them with my father as their source. She has always been quite
sympathetic to my cause, as have all the other servants. Cook has been there the longest and is the most willing to speak up.”

“And she knew about the treasure?”

“She did.” Millie frowned. “Do you really believe she concocted a reason for me to come to New Orleans? If that is true, then—”

He reached across to grasp her hand. “Do not get ahead of yourself, Millie,” Kyle said gently. “These are all suppositions.”

Ahead she spied the dressmaker’s shop, a welcome sight that served to distract her for the better part of an hour until finally Kyle finally declared the fitting over.

“But
monsieur
, you cannot simply take the
mademoiselle
away. These garments are works of art, and as such, the greatest care must be taken in seeing that they are executed with precision.”

“Sir, these are dresses. Simply dresses.”

When the dressmaker began protesting in French, Kyle matched him with an equally compelling argument.

Millie listened to the discussion from behind the curtains as the dressmaker’s assistant pinned up the gown that Kyle’s mother had insisted would be for the upcoming ball.

The event Kyle had decided would not take place.

“It’s lovely,” the girl said when she had placed the last pin into its spot.

The gown was beautiful, an elegant confection of embroidered velvet and satin that fit in all the right places and set off her figure like no other she had ever worn. Indeed, the creator of this garment was quite skilled.

He was, perhaps, every bit as good as Mr. Worth, whose garments filled her closet back in Memphis.

Or had before she left without so much as a goodbye. Who knew what Father might have done with her things as soon as he discovered she had made good on her escape.

“Perhaps you would like to show the gentleman.”

She glanced up, her sad thoughts scattering. “Yes, perhaps that’s a good idea,” she said as the argument outside continued to escalate.

Taking one last look in the mirror, Millie walked to the curtains and slowly parted them. Instantly the room fell silent.

Kyle moved toward her and then stopped short. His admiring glance slid across her before returning to her eyes. And then he let out a long, low whistle.

Millie felt her cheeks flush as she basked in his approval. She wanted to look away but couldn’t as the dressmaker began fussing with the garment, tugging on the bodice and kneeling to work pins into the hem. All the while, Kyle remained silent.

Speechless.

“Wherever you were planning to wear that dress,” he finally said, “you will not be going without me. Understand?”

She grinned. “Absolutely. Though I wonder if you are insistent on that. Should I promise?”

Her teasing tone made him grin. “Yes, you should definitely promise.”

“All right, then. I promise I will not go without you to the ball being held in my honor on Saturday.”

Before he could respond, Millie scurried behind the curtain and remained there as long as she could manage it. Finally, she emerged to find that Kyle was no longer waiting. A glance out the window revealed him pacing back and forth.

Bracing herself with a smile, Millie stepped outside. “All done,” she said cheerily.

“You tricked me.”

“I did nothing of the sort.” She allowed him to help her into the carriage. “And if you will recall, the conversation began with you, not me. You issued an edict, asked for a promise, and I merely agreed.”

She had him there, and he knew it.

“Where to, Mr. Russell?” the driver asked.

Kyle glanced over at Millie and then gave the driver Mrs. Koch’s address on Royal Street. They set off, and after offering her companion a brilliant smile of thanks, Millie concentrated her attention on the scenery, on the streets where Lafitte and his men once walked.

“Driver,” Kyle called, “would you pull over up ahead at the corner of Bourbon and St. Philip Streets, please? I would like to show Miss
Cope the Lafitte place.”

“Very good, sir.”

The carriage veered to the curb and slowed to a halt. Before the driver could open the door, Kyle was out and reaching back to assist Millie. “There it is,” he said as he gestured toward a rather shabby building constructed of stucco over red bricks that showed in spots. Two windows on the second level looked out over Bourbon Street, while three doors and a smaller window were open below.

“The Lafitte brothers operated a blacksmith shop from this location,” he said as he reached for her elbow and guided her around the treacherous spots in the sidewalk, or as the locals termed it, the
banquette.
“Of course, there are rumors that the brothers used the property for purposes other than the shoeing of horses.”

“Yes, I know of this place from my books, but it looks very different in person.”

They stopped at the door, and Millie peered inside. The space was dimly lit, a fireplace rising up through the wooden beams to fill the center of the room.

“Some say that fireplace was Lafitte’s favorite place to hide his gold.”

Millie smiled. “I suppose that would keep things close at hand, at least while he was in port.”

“Maybe,” Kyle urged her back from the door just as a pair of rough-looking fellows barged past. “But who knows? I think it is most likely just another of those Lafitte rumors.”

“Surely some of the rumors have to be true,” she said as she allowed Kyle to lead her to the carriage and help her inside. “I mean, he did exist, and there is no dispute that he was a pirate.”

“None at all.” Kyle called for the driver to continue on. “What is in dispute is what he did with all of his gains, of course, and what became of him.”

“According to the books I read on the subject, there are varying theories about his exploits in his later years.” She sighed. “All conjecture, I am afraid. And we know what the captain of the
Victoria Anne
believes.”

Kyle settled back and made himself comfortable. “Something I have learned in my time as a Pinkerton agent is that behind most rumors and
conjecture is a germ of truth. I would assume the same could be said for the Lafittes. Both Jean and his brother, Pierre, were instrumental in keeping the city safe from the invading British during the War of 1812.”

“So a little good and a little bad? That describes us all at one time or another, I suppose.”

The carriage turned the corner and Millie spied the sign for
Rue Royale.
“Royal Street.”

“Are you ready to find your answer?”

“Yes, I think I am.”

He helped her out of the carriage in front of a tidy two-story home with galleries above and dark shutters on the windows.

Millie went first, walking straight to the door to grasp the ornate brass door knocker in her hand. Kyle moved into place beside her and then nodded.

Millie rapped twice and then stood back to wait for someone to answer the door. She had almost given up when the massive iron knob turned and the door opened to reveal an elderly woman dressed in a maid’s black dress with starched white cap, cuffs, and apron.

“May I help you?” she asked.

“We’ve come to see Mrs. Koch,” Millie said with a confidence she did not feel.

“Is that so?” The woman gave them her full attention but otherwise made no move.

“Might she be at home?” Kyle finally asked.

Ignoring Kyle, she focused on Millie. “Who are you?”

“Mildred Cope. I am Genevieve Cope’s granddaughter.”

“I’m sorry, Miss Cope, but I cannot help you.”

And then she closed the door.