Wronged (The Cuvier Widows Book 1) (9 page)

Walking back to her son, she knelt in front
of him and glanced at his face. Gently, she washed the scrapes and
bruises on his knees and elbows.

“Why were you fighting, Philip? You’ve never
been one to cause trouble,” she said, as she gently washed his
face.

He looked away and shrugged his shoulders. “I
don’t know.”

She folded the towel and wiped his face, her
heart aching for the boy she loved with all her heart

“Philip, I know you wouldn’t get into a fight
without a good reason. You can tell me. What happened?”

He wouldn’t look at her. “I guess I got mad
at what some kids were saying.”

Marian’s heart ached as she gazed at her boy.
“What kind of things were they saying, Philip?”

The boy shrugged, trying so hard to hide his
pain. Restlessly he kicked his feet. “It's okay, Mother. I took
care of them.”

She swallowed, he was trying to protect her,
and afraid he would hurt her feelings. “Were they saying things
about your father?”

She walked over to the bowl and rinsed the
towel out and then came back to her son.

Philip glanced away, unable to meet her gaze.
“I’m not going to let them say those things.”

She dabbed tenderly at his swollen eye with
the wet towel. “Sometimes people do things that hurt their
families. But that doesn’t mean that they love their children any
less.”

“Did you love Daddy?” he questioned, taking
her completely by surprise.

The query touched her. She gazed at her son,
her heart overflowing with love. He was growing up and she wanted
to protect him from the ugly truth about his father, but the world
was not going to let her.

“I loved your father very much at one time. I
would never have married Jean, if I had not been in love with him,”
she answered truthfully.

“Did you love him when he died?” he
asked.

The question tore at her heart and she wanted
to lie, but couldn’t.

“I cared for your father, but somehow we lost
our love for one another. But that does not mean that we didn’t
love you and your sister. Your father loved you. And I love you and
Renee, with all my heart.”

Her son’s lower lip trembled.

“The kids at school called papa a bigamist.
They said that means he married other women. That he didn’t love
you or me. They lied!” he declared vehemently.

Marian brushed the hair away from her son’s
face and smoothed his brow with the damp towel. “I wish I could
protect you and your sister and keep the truth away from you, but I
can’t. Your father did indeed marry two other women.”

With his hands he thrust her away from him.
“No!” he yelled. “You’re lying! My father would never do that.”

Marian resisted the urge to take her son in
her arms and rock him like she had when he was a small child. She
wanted to comfort him, to take away the pain she knew he felt, but
she could only be there for him.

She pulled up a chair and sat down beside
him. She tried to take his hand in her hand, but he pulled
away.

“Philip, you loved your father. Regardless of
what anyone says about him, you love him and you miss him. He made
mistakes in his life, but his love for you was always constant.
Remember him for the man he was to you and the way he loved you.
Don’t let anyone’s opinion tarnish your love for your father.”

“Why did he have to leave us? He should have
stayed,” he said trying not to cry, the tears hovering near the
surface.

“If he could have stayed here with you and me
and Renee, he would have. He didn’t have a choice, Philip, so don’t
blame him for leaving.” She sighed. “I know you are hurting right
now, but try not to blame your father.”

He glanced up at her, his tears momentarily
gone. “Are you mad at me?”

All mention of his father’s other wives
vanished from his talk. For a moment, Marian thought of explaining
more to the boy, but then decided to let it alone. If he had
questions, she would answer them, but why not let him get used to
some of the truth, rather than giving him more than he was ready
for?

She should reprove him for fighting, but her
heart wasn’t in it So much had been thrust upon the boy all at
once, not to mention the fact that he grieved for his father.

“Fighting solves nothing. I won't punish you
this time, but don’t do it again. If your friends start to taunt
you about your father, just walk away. They really aren’t your
friends.”

A noise drew her attention and she glanced up
from her son. There in the frame of the doorway stood Louis,
watching her with Philip. His face held an odd expression, his eyes
filled with sympathy. For a moment she wondered, how long he'd been
standing there in the doorway? How much had he heard?

***

Louis’s heart wrenched at the sight of
Philip, dusty, beaten, with scraped knees and an eye that was
rapidly swelling. He remembered those days of his own bygone youth,
when he’d tangled with someone in the schoolyard.

His own boy would have been about the same
age as this boy by now. Quickly he pushed the thought from his
mind. There was no sense in dwelling on the past, especially when
it hurt.

Marian was staring at him, her look
questioning.

“They told me Philip came in hurt and I
wanted to make sure he was all right,” Louis said meeting Marian’s
gaze.

She glanced at her son, whose head was bowed.
“I think he’s going to be fine.”

The boy looked dejected and angry at the
world. Louis had heard just enough to realize what happened. The
boy had gotten into a fight at school because of his father. Louis
felt the urge to take him and give him some fighting lessons that
would cure the other boys from picking on him. But instinctively he
knew that Marian would not appreciate his efforts.

“I know your carriage isn’t due until five
o’clock. If you’d like, I can take you and the boy home now, in my
buggy,” he said, wanting to do something to help Marian and the
child.

Marian contemplated him for several moments
and then glanced at her son. “Thanks, I think that is a good idea,”
she said. “I’ll spend the rest of the day at home with my
children.”

He nodded his head. “I’ll meet you at the
front door.”

Less than five minutes later, Louis helped
her and young Philip into his buggy. He climbed in and picked up
the reins. He called to the horses and they were soon on their
way.

Passing the river docks, a bird flew overhead
squawking a lonesome cry that was barely heard over the cries of
the men yelling to each other as they loaded the boats. The boy sat
between them, quiet and withdrawn. Louis felt sorry for the kid and
wanted to cheer him up.

“Philip, is this your first black eye?” Louis
asked, trying to make light of the subject.

“Yes, sir,” he replied, sullenly.

“Most boys remember who gave them their first
shiner. My brother gave me mine. Of course my father thought we
shouldn’t have been fighting in the first place, and made us clean
the animal bam as punishment”

“Nasty!” the boy said, with some
interest.

“Yeah, we hated it” Louis told him.

“How many brothers and sisters do you have?”
asked Marian.

“I have an older brother,” he replied. “He
runs my family’s plantation.”

“Why didn’t you stay on the plantation
instead of deciding to go into the shipping business with my
husband?” Marian asked.

Louis shrugged. “My father and my brother
were doing just fine running the plantation together. There was no
challenge, except in getting along with them. I didn’t want to do
their dirty work. So I took my inheritance and came to New Orleans
to make my fortune. That’s where I met Jean.”

“You knew my father?” the boy asked.

“Yes, I was his business partner,” Louis
replied. “Maybe your mother could bring you to the shipping office
sometime and I’ll give you a tour of the place. We could even go
out on one of the boats and see a shipment start off for some
far-off destination. Would you like that?”

“Yes!” the boy said loudly, his eyes growing
large in anticipation, a tentative smile on his face.

It was the first smile Louis had seen on the
boy’s face and it pleased him that he’d managed to draw it out of
the kid.

Marian turned and stared at Louis, frowning
slightly, yet her gray eyes were surprised. He smiled and watched
as the wind teased wisps of her hair about her lovely face.

He swallowed and glanced away. It would not
do for Philip to see Louis’s desire for Marian. Philip wouldn’t
recognize Louis’s longing for his mother as the simple flirtation
Louis knew his lust to be.

“Hey look, we’re right here at Tony’s,” said
Louis. “How about we stop for an Italian ice? It would cool us all
off.”

“Would you like that, Philip?” Marian
asked.

The boy glanced with longing at the outdoor
cafe and then at Louis, his eyes so much like Jean’s. “All
right.”

Leaving the buggy at the curb, Louis helped
Philip out then he reached up to help Marian alight His hands
encircled her waist and he lifted her out. When he placed her on
the ground, her eyes met his.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

“My pleasure,” he said indulging his gaze in
the depths of her gray eyes.

He took them into the courtyard where a water
fountain babbled from a cherubic angel, the water splashing down
over rocks into a pool. Lantana bloomed in pots in the courtyard,
with crepe myrtle growing along the sides.

Louis seated them at a table and ordered the
ices.

They sat there awkwardly staring at one
another, the boy watching him with interest.

“I remember you,” he said finally. “You were
at my father’s funeral.”

“Yes, I was,” Louis replied, as the waitress
served the Italian ices.

“My mom is working with you now,” the boy
said.

“Yes, she is.”

“Do you like her?” he questioned.

“Philip! What a question to ask the
gentleman! You don’t ask that kind of question,” Marian
scolded.

“It’s okay, Marian. Of course I do, Philip.
She’s a nice lady. Awfully smart, too.” Louis glanced over at
Marian and noticed her cheeks were flushed and her eyes bright in
the afternoon sunshine. She spooned the ice between her full lips,
while he tried not to notice that her mouth was more tempting than
any chilled dessert.

If the boy hadn’t been there, he would have
considered trying to kiss her again. Just to experience the velvet
and sweetness, with a hint of orange Italian ice.

“If you like her, then why don’t you want her
in the office?” young Philip asked.

Louis was taken aback. While he sat thinking
lustful thoughts about the boy’s mother, Philip surprised him and
he didn’t quite know how to answer him.

“Philip! What’s gotten into you?” said
Marian.

“Its okay, Marian.” He paused.

“Where did you hear that?” Marian asked
Philip.

“You told Aunt Claire he didn’t want you
there.”

Marian looked at Louis with an apologetic
smile. “I did.”

“Philip, the business your father and I ran
has no women in it. It’s not that I don’t want your mother there,
it just isn’t a place for a woman. One day you’ll understand. I’m
trying to look out for her.”

“Oh,” the boy said, and once again delved the
spoon into his Italian ice, somehow satisfied with Louis’s
response.

Marian glanced at her son and then at Louis.
She raised her brows with a questioning look. “And Philip, I’m
trying to look out for our family’s interest, since someday you
will take over. Until then, I’m going to take your place.”

The child glanced at the adults like he knew
something wasn’t quite right, but didn’t understand exactly
what.

Louis pushed away the niggling feeling of
guilt that suddenly appeared. He had to have the business. Marian
Cuvier would many a wealthy man to take care of her and then he
would have his new business. He would not give up until he won this
battle. He needed the capital from Cuvier Shipping to achieve his
dreams.

E
xhausted, Marian
reclined, putting her feet up on the footstool in her sitting room.
The afternoon had been spent with both of her children, playing
games, catching up on their schoolwork, and just being with them.
The problems of Cuvier Shipping had been left behind and for a
little while, she’d been just a mother.

She hoped the time together would help Philip
come to terms with his father’s death. She worried about her son,
but didn’t quite know how to help him. One moment he seemed a
little boy and in the next moment he tried to act a man. Since
Jean’s death, he’d fluctuated between sad and angry, lashing out at
anyone in his path, including his mother.

Marian closed her eyes, reveling in the
silence. It seemed like forever since she’d just laid back with her
feet up. Cuvier Shipping consumed her time and for the first time
she understood some of Jean’s moods. At night she came home
exhausted, with her mind reeling from the information she gained
researching the files. The clientele was large, money matters
complex, and the volume of work staggering for such a small
company. As the female partner, she received very little
respect.

Yet for the first time in years, she felt
invigorated and challenged, and more determined than ever before to
show Louis Fournet and the men she worked with that she could lead
this company. Just until her son was old enough, then she would
gladly relinquish the control to Philip and Louis.

Her mind conjured up images of Louis sitting
across from her laughing and talking to Philip, smiling at her,
making her feel warmer than the afternoon sun. He’d treated her son
well today, going out of his way to cheer Philip’s spirits and
offering to show him his father’s company.