Miss Lavigne's Little White Lie (21 page)

BOOK: Miss Lavigne's Little White Lie
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Nineteen

As Lisette and Serafine rose from the dinner table, Daniel stood. “Ladies, if I may have a word with you in my office?”

Lisette’s insides knotted. “Now?”

He smiled. “This will only take a moment. If you please.”

If
you
please.
He almost made his request sound as if she could refuse it, but politeness required her to accommodate him.

Monsieur Hillary scooted back from the table and assisted Amelia to her feet. “We should be going now. Good evening, madame and mademoiselle.”

Amelia stifled a yawn. “Yes, please excuse our early departure, but I fear I might collapse in my bowl of mush if we stay much longer.”

“Be grateful for the mush,” Daniel warned, but a soft smile played on his lips.

Monsieur Ramsey followed suit. He looked a great deal sadder this evening than he had at the Governor’s Ball. Lisette felt a twinge of sympathy for him.

Serafine put an arm around Rafe’s shoulders. “I’m afraid it’s time to escort this young man to bed, Captain. Perhaps my cousin can assist you with whatever it is you need.”

Lisette shot a venomous look at her cousin. If she didn’t know better, she would swear Serafine was teasing her, but she hadn’t mentioned anything of her earlier encounter with Daniel.

“Splendid.” He swept an arm toward his office. “Shall we, Mademoiselle Lavigne?”

“This can wait until tomorrow. It has been a tiring day.” She made to follow Serafine and Rafe, but Daniel captured her arm and pulled her farther into his cabins. He released her once they stepped inside his office. Closing the door, he held up his hands.

“I promise your virtue is safe. I mulled over my actions from this morning and realized I was indeed behaving in a selfish manner. I offer my apologies.”

Lisette narrowed her eyes. He would not lure her in easily this time. Holding herself rigid, she moved to the upholstered chair and sat. “Please, get on with it so we may conclude our business.”

A tic at his jaw was the only indication she’d ruffled his calm control. “Not until you acknowledge my apology, my dear.”

“Really, Daniel. Must you play games with me? If you’re sincerely sorry, which I doubt, then I accept. That doesn’t change the fact I don’t trust you.”

His strong brows, like thick slashes above his aqua eyes, lowered dangerously. She’d seen this look the moment before he’d slammed his fist into the ruffian’s jaw at The Abyss. A tremor coursed through her.

“Perhaps we should work on building more trust between us. You may start by telling me about Reynaud,” he said.

Lisette’s hand covered her gasp. “How do you know of him?”

Daniel crossed his arms and leaned against his desk. “Rafe. He said Reynaud had men who didn’t want you on my ship.”

“He said that?” Lisette had no idea Rafe knew anything about her fiancé. She had tried her best to keep her concerns to herself for fear of upsetting her brother. Had she and Serafine exchanged words about Reynaud within Rafe’s presence?

“Rafe said you had to hide from these men, and I have a feeling your brother didn’t reference a game of hide-and-seek.” Daniel’s expression lost its hard edge. “Is this man the reason you were desperate to leave New Orleans?”

Tears clogged her throat. She hadn’t stopped to remember the fear she had felt crouched in the garden until this moment. She forced back her emotions and willed her pulse to slow. Swallowing, she nodded.


He
threatened to lock up Rafe.”

“Yes. My own fiancé wished to lock him up.” Her voice rasped.

Daniel pushed from the desk and stood before her. “Lisette.” He spoke her name like a tender caress and held out his hand. “You needn’t carry this burden alone. Please, may I offer you consolation?” How easy it would be to surrender to his comforting embrace, but she couldn’t.

She shook her head and looked away. “I’m all right now. We are safely away from him. I have no cause to be upset any longer.”

Daniel knelt at her feet and met her gaze. “He has driven you from your home, Lis. You have every reason to be upset.”

The cabin blurred. For weeks, she’d held back her sorrow. Why must she shed tears now? She was weak, a pathetic excuse of a woman. She was as weak as her mother who had languished in bed all those years, growing frail and useless, wetting her pillow with her tears. But Lisette couldn’t stop the swell of emotion. Everything was compounded: her father’s death, Reynaud’s betrayal, her foolishness.

“He’s a monster. I couldn’t—”

Daniel wrapped her in his arms. “You will never see him again, my love.”

Several tears slipped past her lashes as Lisette squeezed her eyes tightly. She would be damned if she’d cry for that man. Reynaud had made her think he would provide for her and her brother. He’d claimed to be their answer. He’d lied. Everything he promised was a lie.

“I want to forget him.”

Daniel drew back and swiped a tear from her cheek with the pad of his thumb. “What does he have to gain with you gone?”

“Nothing. He has lost access to my dowry. And I think he hoped to gain control over Rafe’s inheritance.” She leaned into Daniel’s palm as he feathered his fingers along her jawline. What a naive little goat she had been. “Xavier, Rafe’s guardian, has been gone for over a year. Reynaud offered to speak with his connections about seeking guardianship over Rafe after we married. Thank the Lord, I learned of his true intentions before the wedding. I couldn’t allow him to commit Rafe to an asylum. He would die in confinement.”

“That’s the last place Rafe belongs.” There was fire in his words.

She cradled Daniel’s face and searched his gaze. “You mean it, don’t you?”

“Of course I mean it. Rafe is a brilliant lad. The world is fortunate to have him be part of it.”

Daniel would make an amazing father some day. He was so patient and kind to her brother.
I
love
you.
The sentiment reverberated in her heart. Daniel was exasperating, overbearing, and arrogant. And his heart still belonged to Cecily. Perhaps it always would. But Lisette loved him all the same.

He smiled and captured her hands to pull them away from his face, but he didn’t release them from his warm grasp. “If you keep looking at me that way, I won’t be able to keep my promise to you.”

She started and removed her hands from his hold before leaning against the seat back. Daniel moved to the chair behind his desk and leaned his elbows on the surface, waiting for her to speak again.

She licked her lips. “I didn’t know what Reynaud was like when he offered for my hand. He seemed kind and I was so tired. Our father had been dead for three weeks, and I was lost. I didn’t know what to do, how to settle Papa’s accounts or make wise decisions regarding the operating of the farm. Serafine was no more informed than I was, and Monsieur Baptiste was in Boston. Reynaud stepped in and made the decisions I could not.”

“You weren’t a fool. You were grieving.”

“I was weak. My father wasn’t in the crypt more than a month when I accepted Reynaud’s offer of marriage.” She glanced down at her hands twined together. Guilt sat heavily in her gut. “When Monsieur Baptiste returned to New Orleans, he was livid. He demanded I end the engagement and chastised me for not observing the proper mourning period. My father’s dearest friend was ashamed of me. I’m ashamed of myself.”

“Then your father’s friend is a fool. No woman can be expected to step into her father’s shoes. She needs someone to offer proper counsel.”

“No, Monsieur Baptiste was right, at least about Reynaud. Two weeks before we were to wed, I called on my betrothed at his home. I aimed to talk him into allowing Rafe to accompany us on our honeymoon. We had discussed it the evening prior, and I felt certain with a little more persuasion, Reynaud would consent. He appeared to like Rafe well enough.” How could she have mistaken Reynaud’s cool regard for her brother for fondness?

“A maid showed me to the parlor, but I was kept waiting a long time. Eventually, I decided the timing of my visit was inconvenient, so I went to let myself out. When I opened the parlor door, I heard him speaking with another man. His guest made a rude comment about Rafe, and I expected Reynaud to defend him, but he didn’t. Instead, he laughed.”

His cruel ridicule still left her shaking. “He said once we married, the
idiot
could be placed where he belonged, at Rivercrest Lunatic Asylum.”

“What an arse. Is that when you decided to run away?”

“Not immediately. I didn’t know what to do, so I confided in Monsieur Baptiste. He promised to help us somehow, but his ability to provide protection is limited. He’s advanced in age, and he lacks the funds to do more than to live modestly. The only solution he could think of was to search for Xavier in London. He assisted us with locating a ship leaving New Orleans before the wedding.”

Daniel pressed his lips together. “And I refused his request.”

“But you changed your mind.”


You
changed my mind, Lis.” A smile softened his features again. “It’s an annoying ability you possess, making me question myself.”

“Have I only one annoying habit?”

“The others are hardly worth mentioning.” He winked to show he teased, but his merriment soon dissolved into thoughtful silence. “You could have been killed if Reynaud’s men had caught you that evening.”

“I knew they wouldn’t.”

“How could you be sure?”

“Serafine read my tea leaves. She said we would escape undetected.”

“And you placed your faith in tea leaves? What other predictions has she made?”

She shrugged, her body heating under his incredulous stare. “What other choice did I have? And she was right. We did escape.”

He nodded slowly, the hint of a dimple in his cheek. “I suppose I can’t argue with the logic of consulting Mother Earth when you have indeed escaped unharmed. What else did her ladyship reveal?”

“Nothing.”

“You’re twisting your fingers again. There’s something else, isn’t there? What did Serafine tell you, Lis?”

She forced her hands to her sides. Her body burned even hotter. She would like to pretend she didn’t hear him and change the topic, but the stubborn set to his jaw indicated how futile the attempt would be. Her gaze skittered around the cabin before resting on Daniel again.

“She said I am destined to marry an obscenely rich Englishman.” She winced, expecting him to laugh, but he didn’t.

“That rich, eh? Narrows down your prospects a bit.”

***

“Serafine.” The voice called her name softly. Its pleasant tone rolled over her tenderly and familiarly. “Serafine, wake up, my child.”

Grandmamma?

“Serafine, they’re coming. Wake up!”

Serafine woke with a jump, kicking her leg over the side of the cot where it dangled. She stared into the darkness, trying to get her bearings. Lisette’s and Rafe’s even breathing filled the space, and slowly it dawned on her where she was. They were on the ship.

She sat up on the side of the cot. A cold sweat drenched her nightrail and her throat felt caked with grit. She hated these late-night awakenings when her heart raced, and she felt like she might toss up her accounts. This was the third night in a row, and just like the other times, she was overcome with an evasive sense of dread.

There was no explanation for her distress. They were safe on the
Cecily
. And Captain Hillary had been true to his word. He treated Lisette with the greatest respect. Serafine no longer worried about her cousin. Soon they would arrive in London, and she felt certain the captain would assist them with finding rooms to let if she asked. And still, her uneasiness clung to her.

The bell tolled four times topside. She needed a drink.

Feeling around the floor with her foot, she bumped against her slippers, donned them, and then snatched the wrapper lying across the cot.

She glided out the cabin door and closed it with care before following the narrow passageway, touching her hand along the wooden sides of the ship to guide her, and headed toward the galley.

The ship creaked as it rocked gently on the waves. She had grown accustomed to the ship’s nighttime sounds—the swish of water against the bow, the peal of the bell, footfalls of the watchmen on deck.

As she neared the galley, a cloud of warm air poured from the room and surrounded her when she entered. Dim embers smoldered in the stone oven, reduced to almost nothing.

She felt around for a cup, her thirst driving her.

Strong hands seized her from behind. She screamed.

“Lordy, it’s a miss!” Poor Cook sounded as frightened as she was.

“It is I, Mademoiselle Vistoire.”

Cook released her and lit a candle from the embers. Shadows cast the craggy lines of his face in relief. They appeared as canyons. He grinned and the light reflected off his gold tooth as he lit the lantern sitting on a small table. “You the one been raiding the larder? I thought I be catching Mr. Timmons, or better yet, the uppity Mrs. Hillary.”

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