Tears of Gold (58 page)

“Ashford?” Nicholas pondered for a second. “The banker?”

Edward Ashford beamed proudly. “One and the same. Opened one in St. Louis last year, and making plans for one in Natchez next year. I’ll have a whole string of banks along the Mississippi one day.” Mara now realized why he might indeed be a successful businessman, for his genial and mild-mannered outward appearance actually masked a deceptive strength and quick mind, the gentle brown eyes missing nothing.

“You shall have to begin to court Nicholas, Edward,” Etienne said with a sly smile of amusement at the banker’s sharpening interest. He explained, “Nicholas has returned from California a very wealthy man. But I don’t suppose your banks would have room for all his gold, eh?”

“You’ve recently come from California, Monsieur de Montaigne-Chantale?” Edward inquired with keen curiosity, his opinion of this particular Creole undergoing a quick revision. Here was a man who actually had money in his pocket. “I would be interested in discussing your adventure, m’sieu—especially if you tell it truthfully and without making it sound too exciting,” Edward pleaded with a suffering smile, “for I have been trying for over two years now to talk my young brother out of sailing for California.”

“I’m afraid a man must find that out for himself, Monsieur Ashford,” Nicholas told him dryly, “for the lust for gold and adventure burns too strong to be extinguished by words.”

“Well, you must speak with him anyway,” Ashford continued. “And please, call me Edward,” he invited with an ingratiating grin. “I do hope we might find the time to discuss your financial situation. I know of several investments you might be interested in, and of course,” he added as if the thought had just come to him, “if you are newly arrived here in Louisiana, you’ll want to open an account. I think you and I could come to a mutually satisfying agreement.”

“Please, Monsieur Ashford,” Nicholas replied with a dismissive look. “I wouldn’t dream of insulting my hostess, or the ladies, by engaging in business while being so graciously entertained. I think Nicole grows impatient standing here while she sees her friends dancing in the other room. Shall we join the others?” he inquired softly, his manner stopping any further mention of business.

“Oh, Edward, you’ve not met Mademoiselle O’Flynn,” Amaryllis quickly eased the tension, but her pale blue eyes seemed to reflect the hardness of the diamonds around her throat when she noticed for the first time the rubies glowing against Mara’s breast.

“No, I’ve not had that pleasure, mademoiselle,” Edward returned gallantly as he bent over her hand. “And I doubt whether there has ever been a lovelier beauty than yours to grace the parishes of Louisiana,” he complimented as he assessed her in a single sweep, no doubt setting her worth as his pudgy hand lingered against hers for just a second too long.

Amaryllis frowned with displeasure at his fulsome flattery. She caught sight of an attractive man making his way toward the group, and with a smile of triumph that widened into one of excessive welcome, she reached out and captured his arm, turning his attention to Mara O’Flynn.

“You’ve not met Edward’s brother. Carson Ashford,” Amaryllis declared as she maneuvered him closer to the red velvet figure, “this is Mara O’Flynn, and she’s been to California. You must get her to tell you all about it. Now, if you’ll excuse us, I must introduce Nicholas to the rest of my guests. Come along, mon cher,” Amaryllis neatly separated the group, leaving Mara to handle the ardent glow in Carson Ashford’s brown eyes.

After only a moment’s conversation with him Mara had concluded with unerring accuracy that the man was a pretentious boor who was long overdue for a crushing set-down. Mara raised an eyebrow superciliously as he touched her arm with familiarity and handed her a glass of champagne. His eyes roved over her bare shoulders with speculation.

“And here I was envying ol’ Edward,” he said with a leer, “but ma’am, you make Amaryllis pale by comparison. Is it true that you’ve actually been out to California? Heard tell there aren’t many women out there, excepting for some sunbonnets. Meaning no offense, mademoiselle,” Carson said with an odious little smile, “but you sure don’t look like any pioneer woman I’ve ever seen! I don’t believe I saw who accompanied you here this evening, ma’am?” he inquired. His eyes never left her face, letting her know that he had every intention of becoming her escort for the evening.

“With that man over there,” Mara said lazily, nodding her sleek head in the direction of Nicholas.

Carson glanced around carelessly, but as his eyes came into contact with the green eyes staring so intently at him from across the room, the bluster and swagger seemed to escape him like hot air from a deflated balloon.

While he stood there looking stricken, Mara made her escape and wandered off into a crowd milling aimlessly around the room. Nicole was holding court and gossiping with a group of her contemporaries on a sofa in the corner of the parlor while, across the room, Mara caught sight of Etienne’s silver head bent attentively over a bejeweled woman who seemed to be holding a one-sided conversation.

Although Sandrose was not near so beautiful and gracious an establishment as Beaumarais, it had been better maintained. The rugs were obviously new, their colors still bright. The wallpaper was not faded. There was a feeling of gloss over everything in the room. Undeniably it was an elegant room, but not one that exuded warmth. Vases of exotic blooms filled the mantel and tables and blended with the heavy scent of many perfumes. Across the wide hallway Mara could see couples dancing in the ballroom where the orchestra played a gentle waltz. Mara steered clear of the small groups of laughing, chatting young matrons, the disapproving dowagers seated in chairs along the sides of the room as they kept watch over their granddaughters or over stray males who emerged from the smoke-filled study where the gentlemen had gathered to drink and joke. Mara contented herself with sampling some of the hors d’oeuvres being passed around by the waiters and sipping her champagne as she watched with the objective interest of an outsider the various dramas being enacted around the room. Mara had just finished a small, hot patty filled with oysters when she felt someone beside her and looked up to see Nicholas smiling sardonically down at her.

“You seem to find something amusing, my dear,” he commented softly.

“I should really be grateful to you for bringing me this evening. I’ve always wondered how the other half lived,” Mara remarked mockingly, a look of amusement in her eyes as she added, “and just think how this experience will help my acting the next time I play a society lady.”

“You, my sweet, could be giving some of these women lessons in deportment and the fine airs a genteel lady should adopt at all times,” Nicholas laughed.

As Nicholas stood beside her Mara became aware of curious stares being sent both openly and discreetly their way, some admiring, most hostile. “Could it be me dress, d’ye think?” Mara asked as she pretended concern.

Nicholas stared at her blankly for a moment before understanding dawned. He followed her amused glance to a middle-aged woman whose thin body vibrated with indignation as she stared with imperious disdain at Nicholas’s tall figure.

“I’m afraid, my dear, that not all people are of a forgiving nature. Quite a few of the disapproving are here this evening,” Nicholas told her quietly as he allowed his eyes to roam freely over the rudely staring woman’s person. She turned a bright red with mortification. “Some of these people never forgive or forget,” Nicholas commented impersonally as he glanced around the room.

“But they will have to when they hear that your father sent for you,” Mara reassured him. She hoped he wasn’t being hurt.

Nicholas covered her hand briefly before he said with a derisory look around the room, “It wouldn’t matter even if I paraded the real murderer around the room. They would still prefer to believe the worst of me. It makes for far more interesting gossip. I have been cast in the role of villain, and that is where they will keep me. They are all probably dying to know just who the devil you are, my dear, and just what the relationship is between us. Come,” Nicholas said abruptly as if suddenly making up his mind. Taking her champagne glass and placing it on a tray passing nearby, he pulled her with him from the room. “Shall we give them something new to discuss?” he asked as he swung her into his arms. Their closely moving figures joined the other dancers. “Let them talk about your beautiful silken ankles for a change, and the shocking manner in which I hold you pressed so close to my body,” Nicholas laughed in Mara’s ear as he swirled her around the ballroom, Mara’s red velvet skirts billowing and revealing a tantalizing length of silken leg.

Around midnight supper was served on a huge oak table covered in a rose damask tablecloth. An ornate epergne, holding assorted sweets and flowers, sat squarely in the center. One end of the buffet held stacks of plates and silver, while the rest of the table was filled with silver bowls of salads, tureens of soups, large platters of whole turkeys, roasts, and hams, brimming dishes of vegetables and accompanying sauces, and rich cheeses. Should the diners still have the appetite, pies, cakes with thick icings, creamy custards, and mounds of ice cream were within arm’s reach. Champagne and wine flowed freely.

After the guests had eaten their fill, the orchestra struck up a livelier tune and the dancing continued until the early dawn hours.

Mara stepped out on the gallery after a while and breathed deeply of the cold, wet air. It was so stuffy and crowded inside. She needed just a few minutes respite from the constant chatter, as well as a break from the persistent attentions of Carson Ashford. He couldn’t seem to keep his hands to himself. Mara had not seen Nicholas since being separated from him shortly after they’d dined. She wondered how much longer he intended to stay, hoping he hadn’t planned on participating in the traditional gumbo and black coffee she heard was always served at dawn.

Mara sighed, thinking she’d better return, for it was quite cold and damp and she didn’t have her wrap. Mara remembered seeing Etienne in the parlor and she was thinking about seeking him out when she heard voices from the partially opened door behind her.

“Why, it’s absolutely scandalous, my dear. Can you imagine it? After all these years he’s come back!” an incredulous voice demanded. “He is a handsome devil, isn’t he, Marie?”

“Some might think he is. But that’s not surprising, is it?” Marie snickered. “Who
but
a devil would shoot his own brother?”

“I’m surprised he had the nerve to come back. But then he always did do the most daring and outrageous things, my dear,” Marie spoke again. “But he will find it pretty rough going this time. Some people have not forgotten, or forgiven him. The Fouches won’t acknowledge him, nor will the Bruniers. In fact, they left early. They all remember him well, let me tell you.”

How right Nicholas had been. No matter what he did, they would never let him forget. It was so unfair, she thought angrily, wishing she could slap some sense into those gossiping women.

“Of course Amaryllis says that he was invited back by his papa, old Philippe, but who can say. He’s dead. Besides, everyone knew he wasn’t the same toward the end. Did you hear that Nicholas bought Beaumarais from Celeste? It’s incredible.”

“And what do you think Amaryllis said to that?”

Mara cocked her head to hear the answer, her interest caught despite herself.

“Well, I’m not really sure. If it had been anyone but Nicholas, then I’d say she’d have felt murderous, but…”

“Exactly,” the other woman continued, and Mara could just see the exchanged looks passing between them. “We all know how she once felt about him. They were lovers, you know. Yes, I’m sure of it. And now that he’s back, and they are both unmarried…And they say he’s a millionaire. Struck it rich in the gold fields out in California. And, my dear, do you know, they say he even has calluses on his hands. He actually worked out there, like some common…
laborer
,” she added, her voice full of horror.

“Well, I don’t know what could stand in their way now.”

“Perhaps that dark-haired beauty in red velvet he arrived with, and who happens to be his guest at Beaumarais,” Marie’s voice spoke coyly. “Amaryllis was looking quite put out. He danced so many waltzes with her and he sat with her at supper. I heard she is wearing his own mother’s jewels.”

Mara automatically touched the rubies around her throat, her face burning.

“I was expecting to hear an announcement of Amaryllis’s engagement to Edward Ashford this evening. I mean, my dear, he is paying for everything, even the clothes on Amaryllis’s back. I would think he is expecting a return on his investment,” Marie said archly.

“If I were him I wouldn’t be holding my breath. I just saw Amaryllis and that devil step outside, and after the way they’ve been looking at each other all evening, well…”

Mara moved away from the door, wishing she hadn’t eavesdropped. She walked swiftly along the dark gallery. Seeing something move ahead of her she stopped and stepped deeper into the shadows. She was shivering with cold as she stood there, but she couldn’t move as she watched the black shadow break apart and turn into two people. The two figures moved together toward the revealing glow from one of the French windows, the light catching the turquoise of the woman’s gown. The tall figure of the man remained dark. He was dressed totally in black. Mara saw his face for just a second as he glanced her way, the candlelight shining on those hawklike features she’d come to love so dearly.

When Mara entered the ballroom moments later, couples were circling the floor in slow, sweeping steps. She remained unnoticed for an instant before being spotted by the eager Carson Ashford. He rudely left the side of the young girl he’d been engaged in conversation with and hurried over to Mara’s side, stopping only briefly to snatch a goblet of champagne from a tray. With a great show of ceremony he presented her with the champagne, acting as though it were his heart.

“I’m hoping to bribe a smile out of you, mademoiselle,” he said softly as his eyes lingered on her soft lips. He swallowed his surprise as he saw the mouth widen in a half-smile that tantalized him as the golden eyes looked deeply into his.