Wronged (The Cuvier Widows Book 1) (8 page)

An enjoyable mistake, but doubtful it could
happen again or should. Certainly he’d resorted to trying to
frighten her away and when she saw him today she would act as if
the kiss meant nothing.

“Good morning,” Louis said, standing in her
doorway.

Her heart leapt within her chest at the sight
of the man who kept her dreams troubled last night. How long had he
been standing there watching her?

He leaned against the doorframe looking like
temptation ... with a hangover. Dark shadows circled his bloodshot
eyes, his complexion a pasty shade of white.

“Someone mentioned you brought croissants and
coffee,” he said, with a weak smile.

She blushed, not quite meeting his gaze,
unable to look at his full lips without remembering how they
felt.

“They’re on the table. Help yourself.”

He moved slowly to the food, poured himself a
cup of coffee and picked up a hot croissant. Seeing a chair beside
her desk, he sank down, making himself cozy, like he wanted to
settle in for a nice long chat.

How could he just come into her office sit
down as if they were old friends, after he had behaved so brazenly
toward her the night before?

Marian kept working hoping he would get the
hint and go away. He sipped his coffee and moaned.

“The brew is strong, but it didn’t have that
effect on any of the other men who stopped in this morning,” she
said, not looking up.

“My head is killing me,” he answered
solemnly.

“I noticed you don’t appear your usual
chipper self this morning. What’s wrong?” she questioned
innocently, knowing he suffered.

“I was bit by a malt-bug last night,” he
replied.

“Never heard of the little beast. Must be
pretty bad,” she said, not feeling any sympathy for the handsome
man.

He shook his head at her and tried to smile.
“I can tell you don’t go out very much. It’s not a real bug. It
means I had too much to drink.”

“From the looks of you, that wasn’t hard to
discern. I just don’t have any sympathy for you.”

Furtively she glanced at his mouth, trying
not to stare, wondering again why his kiss had aroused her long-
denied body. The memory of those luscious lips covering hers and
the feel of his tongue running along her outer lips caused her to
jump up and walk to the coffee pot. With shaking hands she poured
the hot brew into a cup.

He acted as if nothing had transpired between
them yesterday, like it was just another day at Cuvier Shipping.
She had wanted to be the one who acted so nonchalant about their
kiss. But somehow she felt like he was doing a better job and that
left her frustrated. He had started this, not she.

“I usually don’t do this,” he said.

“Do what?” she asked, returning to her seat
behind the desk. “Have coffee and croissants?”

“No. Drink to excess,” he grumbled.

“What changed?” she asked bluntly. “Did you
have a case of bad conscience that you were trying to rid yourself
of? Or did you need a dose of courage to come back and face me this
morning? “

He stared at her, his eyes growing wide with
surprise at her less than subtle attack. He opened his mouth to
speak, but before he could reply, they both heard a female voice
calling, “Mr. Fournet, where are you?”

“Damn!” he said, spilling hot coffee over his
trousers as he jumped up at the sound of his name.

He glanced around the room, and then slipped
behind her office door, just as the woman came into view.

“What are you doing?” Marian softly hissed at
Louis, stunned by his behavior. “Are you insane?”

“What does it look like? I’m hiding,” he
whispered. She shook her head. “Aren’t you a little old to be
playing hide-and-seek from women?”

“That’s easy for you to say. You don’t know
Jane,” he said motioning her to lower her voice.

Marian leaned forward across her desk, so he
could hear her better. “If you don’t want to go out and see the
woman, then why don’t you tell her, instead of acting like a child
and disappearing?”

“Jane can be ... clinging.”

“Please! Mr. Fournet, a man with your
experience with women should know how to handle this type of
situation by now.”

“My experience?” he questioned. “I’m no
Lothario. I admit I like women, but no more than any other normal
man.”

“Normal men don’t hide behind office doors
when they have a visitor,” she admonished, resisting the urge to
laugh at him.

He shook his head. “Just do me a small favor.
Go out there and tell her I had to leave for a while and that I
won’t be back until the year 1900.”

She stared at him from her desk, the cup of
coffee in her hand. He wanted her to lie for him after he had
refused to help her learn the shipping business. After he’d made it
very clear she was not wanted in this office. After he’d kissed
her, clearly trying to scare her away and then acted as if nothing
had happened?

“Why should I?” she asked.

He paused and smiled at her, turning on the
charm that came so naturally to him. “Just do this as a favor to
me.”

Charm had little effect on Marian. Jean’s
charm had left Marian immune to the effects, but Louis hadn’t
recognized that fact yet.

She gazed at him over the rim of her cup,
wanting to refuse but realizing there were other ways to handle his
request. Standing, she pushed her chair away from the desk and
walked around it

“All right I’ll help you. After all, you’ve
been so welcoming and helpful to me since I came here,” she said,
hurrying out the door trying to hide her smile.

Louis frowned suspiciously, sudden
realization making him nervous.

“Wait” he hissed.

He peered through a crack between the door
and the frame and watched Marian approach Jane, who stood looking
in at his office.

“May I help you?” she asked the young
woman.

Tall and graceful, Jane Fitzwilliam was on
the prowl for a husband and she’d decided Louis was her mate of
choice. The grand prize was to be a trip to the altar, but Louis
had already visited the inside of her bedroom and had no desire to
go to church with her.

“Do you work here?” the woman asked.

“Yes, I’m Marian Cuvier.”

The woman’s eyes grew wide at she recognized
Marian’s name. “I’m looking for Louis Fournet”

“Is there anything I can help you with?”
Marian asked.

“No. I need to speak with Louis.”

“Didn’t the men up front tell you?” Marian
asked her voice filled with concern.

“Tell me what?” Jane questioned.

“If you’re a friend of his I’m sure he would
want you to know,” Marian said with sympathy.

“What are you talking about?” the woman said,
beginning to look worried.

“Well, I don’t know how to say this. It’s
rather an indelicate subject that normally I wouldn’t discuss, but
since you’re his friend, you should know,” Marian said, taking
Jane’s elbow and drawing her closer to the door.

Oh God, what was she doing?
he
wondered.

“What’s wrong? Is it Louis?” she asked.

“There’s been an accident,” Marian said, a
solemn look on her face.

“Accident? What kind of accident? Is he
hurt?”

How could he stop her? She intended to ruin
him. Yet if he went running out there, he would look like a fool.
But if he stayed behind the door he feared what Marian’s next words
would be.

The woman had a mean streak in her!

Marian leaned closer to the woman. “I only
know because I overheard the men talking about—what happened. And
even then I didn’t get all the details. They hushed when they saw
me listening.”

Jane leaned forward, closer to Marian, whose
voice was just loud enough that Louis caught every word.

“Seems like he was hurt,” she said, pausing,
her face a frown. “You know ... down there.”

How could this get any worse? Louis thought
as he watched Marian ruin him.

“No,” Jane gasped. “How bad is he?”

Marian half closed her eyes and shook her
head. “Bad.”

He was going to wrap his hands around her
throat and slowly choke her. The liquor had obviously dulled his
brain for him to ask Marian to speak with Jane!

“The men said that the doctors don’t know if
he’ll ever be the same. It’s doubtful he’ll ever have children.”
She paused, stumbling with her words. “Because ... because, well,
these things can be so uncertain.”

Oh God! It was bad enough his head was
splitting, his mouth tasted like cotton, and his stomach was riding
the high seas, all because he’d gotten drunk trying to forget the
feel of her lips against his. All because watching her every day
for the last three weeks was driving him to distraction. How could
such a simple plan to drive her from the business have gone so
wrong? And now look what she was doing to get even.

She had just told one of the biggest gossips
in town that he had been—damaged. Up to now he’d enjoyed a very
active sexual life, which now seemed to be ending.

The brunette backed away from Marian, her
hand on her mouth. “Oh, dear! What a shame!”

Marian nodded her head. “I didn’t want to say
anything, because it’s just something you don’t talk about. But I
thought
you
would want to know.”

The woman blinked her eyes rapidly and shook
her head sadly. “You’re right, it’s certainly something I could
never discuss with him.”

“No. We just need to remember him in our
prayers.”

Louis almost groaned as a bout of nausea
gripped him. If the sickness from his hangover hadn’t held him in
its grip, he would have come around the door and strangled
Marian.

“Oh yes,” Jane said. “I’ll be sure to put his
name on the prayer list at church.”

Oh God, what kind of illness would she list
by his name? Eunuch?

How could he get out of this mess? How could
he prove to Jane that he was a complete man? And did he want to go
to the trouble?

“Should I tell him you came by, madame?”
Marian asked.

Jane glanced around the office uneasily. She
wrinkled her forehead in a frown. “Maybe it would be better if he
didn’t know that I visited.”

Marian nodded her head. “Good idea. It’s such
a shame.”

“I’ll say. Thank you so much for telling
me.”

“You’re welcome. Shall I walk you to the
door?”

“Please.”

The two women disappeared from sight and
Louis banged his head against the wall behind the door. He must not
underestimate this woman again. Marian didn’t get even, she got
ahead. And, worst of all, she’d done it at his expense.

She returned a few moments later, a satisfied
smile on her face.

“I did everything that you asked,” she said,
at his look of pure frustration.

“Yes, I heard what you did,” he said. “I’m
certain that Jane won’t be returning to the office again.”

Marian shrugged. “Pity, I rather enjoyed
talking to her.”

“Maybe you can tell her when I’m healed,” he
said taking a deep breath to calm his annoyance.

A blush spread across Marian’s face. “Oh, no
that’s a delicate subject that ladies don’t discuss.”

“I can see that,” he said, his voice rising
until his head throbbed.

“Any time you want to hide in my office, I’d
be happy to speak with your lady friends for you,” Marian said,
with a wicked smile.

He gave her a look that would have halted a
sensible person, but not Marian.

“Don’t worry, you won’t be here,” he said,
his voice low and irritated.

She smiled. “We’ll see who lasts longer, Mr.
Fournet. It’s going to take more than a kiss to send me running out
the door.”

“And more than rumors of an accident for me,”
he said, and walked out the door, slamming it behind him.

***

Several days later, Marian laid the morning
paper down on her desk and wanted to cry. Another sensational story
about Jean’s murder appeared on the front page of the newspaper.
Since his death, there were few days that went by that an article
did not appear regarding his murder or the other Cuvier Widows, as
they were called.

Now the papers were saying that the arrest of
Layla was imminent and alleging she murdered Jean.

The police claimed they had found a motive,
though Marian doubted the girl had had the courage to kill Jean.
She didn’t know who killed her husband but Marian felt relieved
Jean was gone.

Jon rapped on her door. “Mrs. Cuvier?”

Marian glanced up. “Yes?”

“There’s a young boy here who says he’s your
son,” the man said. “He’s bleeding, Ma’am.”

She jumped up out of her chair, pushed past
Jon and ran out of her office, down the hall. This week was
Philip’s first week back in school and when she’d sent him off, she
was afraid that newspapermen would hound him.

She saw her son standing at the front door,
his head down, his knees skinned, and his left eye swollen. His
clothes were tom and dirty as if he’d been rolling in the dirt.
Who had done this to him?

“Philip,” she cried. “What happened? Are you
hurt?”

She knelt down beside her son, her black
skirts billowing around her and the boy.

Philip glanced at her, his face dirty and
tear-streaked.

He blinked, trying to hold back the tears. “I
... I got in a fight at school. They sent me home.”

“Oh son! Are you hurt?” she asked, as she
pushed the hair back away from his forehead to check the area where
he received the blow.

“No,” he said dejectedly. “My eye aches, but
that’s all.”

Noticing for the first time that everyone in
the office was watching them, she stood and took him by the arm.
Not releasing him, she proceeded to walk him back to her office.
Once there she sat him in a chair. She walked over to the bowl and
ewer she’d brought from home and poured water onto a small towel,
which she used to dry her hands.