“Did you enjoy it, madame?”
“Oh, yes,” she replied without hesitation. “You are a gifted speaker, and the speech was quite rousing. I was even tempted to clap at the parts that I didn’t agree with.”
Burr laughed so heartily that half the room strained to pay keen attention to them. “I must know, madame, what parts you did not agree with.”
Lysette responded with a provocative smile. “My opinions are insignificant, Colonel Burr. My husband’s views are the ones you should take note of.”
“And so I shall,” Burr said with a chuckle. His gaze focused on Max’s expressionless face. “Your wife is not only lovely and accomplished, but also clever. You are a fortunate man, Monsieur Vallerand.”
Although Max did not respond to the comment, Lysette sensed his jealous bristling. He changed the subject abruptly. “How do you find the climate in New Orleans, Colonel?”
The question caused Burr to smile. “I believe you are referring to the political climate, are you not? I find it very pleasant, Monsieur Vallerand. We had quite an agreeable journey down here, as we encountered many unexpected friends.”
“So I’ve heard.”
“Is it true that you own a shipping business, monsieur? That is rare for a man of your background, I believe. Don’t Creoles as a rule consider anything mercantile to be beneath them?”
“As a rule, yes. But I seldom follow the rules.”
“Neither do I,” Burr said agreeably, and gave Max a speculative stare. “I have been meeting many gentlemen in the community, monsieur, most of whom belong to the Mexican Association. Do you happen to subscribe to it?”
Lysette recalled what Max had told her of the Mexican Association, a group of prominent citizens who desired the liberation of Mexico, and all the attendant trade benefits it would give to the merchants of New Orleans. Anyone who belonged to the group was certain to sympathize with Burr’s cause.
“No, I do not,” Max replied. “I have found that belonging to organizations of any kind invariably results in unwanted obligations.”
“Interesting,” Burr commented, his eyes alight with the enjoyment of a challenge. “I would like to have an opportunity to try and persuade you otherwise, monsieur. Shall we talk at a later date?”
“That might be arranged.”
Soon Colonel Burr’s attention was claimed by others who wished to be introduced, and Max drew Lysette away.
“What is your impression of him?” he asked.
“Dangerous,” came Lysette’s blunt reply. “I don’t think Colonel Burr would be so confident if he didn’t have good reason. It is likely that he has persuaded many men to join his cause, Max.”
“I think so, too,” he said ruefully.
Alexandre approached them after having delivered Irénée to her friends, who were clustered at the side of the room gossiping. “My lovely sister-in-law,” he said to Lysette, “dance with me, s’il vous plait.”
Lysette took his arm. “Do you have any objections, Max?”
Her husband shook his head, but gave his younger brother an ominous frown. “Do not leave my wife unattended.”
“I hope that I have better manners than that, monfrère,”Alexandre said indignantly. He pulled Lysette along with him, and stopped at the edge of the crowd. “Do you see the girl in the green gown?” he asked her. “The one with the dark hair?”
“No, I do not see—”
“She is tall. There are yellow ribbons in her hair. The blond man dancing with her is her cousin. See her? That is Henriette Clement. I want to attract her attention. Make certain you look as if you are enjoying yourself. Laugh as if I am saying something witty.”
“I’ll do my best.” Lysette smiled and placed her hand in his. “Do you intend to court her, Alexandre?”
Alex looked over her shoulder and scowled. “I want to,” he admitted. “Very much. But her family doesn’t approve of me.”
“Does Mademoiselle Clement have an interest in you?”
“I’m not certain. If only I could spend some time with her… but every time I am within ten yards of Henriette, the entire Clement family descends on me like a pack of bloodhounds.”
“If you are to talk to Mademoiselle Clement, you will have to enlist the help of her tante.”
“Her tante is a dragon,” Alexandre said morosely.
“Well, you’ll have to put some work into charming her. If you make the tante like you and plead your case well enough, she may be persuaded to help you meet with Mademoiselle Clement. Alors, go find the tante and be nice to her.”
“Now?” Alexandre asked blankly. “But you are not to be left alone. Max will turn me inside out if I don’t stay with you.”
“Irénée is right over there, not twenty feet away. I will go to her.”
“What about our dance?”
“We will dance later,” Lysette promised with a laugh. “At the moment, this is more important.”
“All right,” Alexandre muttered, squaring his shoulders. “I suppose I have nothing to lose, n’est-cepas?”
Smiling, Lysette headed toward Irénée and the gaggle of gray-haired women around her. She could not help but be aware of the indiscreet stares that followed her. One group of young bucks stopped their conversation altogether, watching her every move. Lysette became absurdly self-conscious, and by the time she reached her destination, she felt a blush climbing up her cheeks. Irénée welcomed her warmly.
“Belle-mère,” Lysette said, “Are you enjoying yourself?”
“Of course I am!” Irénée replied matter-of-factly. “And from all accounts, you are a great success, my dear. Why, Diron Clement, the old gentleman over there, was overheard to say that in his opinion you are a great beauty!”
Lysette laughed. “Someone should clean his spectacles.”
“He would not have said it if it were not true.” Irénée nudged a stout, flower-bedecked matron nearby. “Tell her it is so, Yvonne, tell her!”
Yvonne, an older cousin on Irénée’s side of the family, gave Lysette a plump-cheeked smile. “You are a very attractive girl, Lysette. I remember it was the same with your mother when she was young. How lovely and full of life she was, and how they all stared when she entered a room!”
Lysette reflected wistfully that no one would consider her mother a beauty now, after the ravages of her marriage to Gaspard.
Seeing the trace of sadness in her expression, Yvonne sought to change the subject. “What splendid diamonds, Lysette! Irénée told me they were a gift from Maximilien.”
Lysette smiled, glancing down at the glittering bracelet. “My husband is quite generous.”
The older woman leaned forward and spoke in a confidential tone. “I’m certain he is, my dear. But mark my words, your husband will be even more generous once you bear him children. You must conceive as soon as possible.”
Amused by the Creole preoccupation with producing babies, Lysette tried to appear suitably impressed. “Oui, madame.”
“As the wife of a Vallerand,” Yvonne continued with increasing enthusiasm, “you will have to set the standard for all the young Creole matrons. We have need of such good examples, with all these brazen American women moving to New Orleans!” She clucked her tongue in displeasure. “Shameless creatures— no modesty or delicacy. Why, they think nothing of walking anywhere unescorted, and interrupting their husbands freely! Bah! It is the responsibility of young Creole women to cling fast to the old values. But until you produce children, you will have no real authority.”
“Yes, that is very true,” Irénée agreed meaningfully.
Lysette nodded gravely, while inside she wanted to laugh, fearing that she was far more like the brazen American women than the proper Creole ones. “I will pray to be blessed with children soon, madame.”
“Bien sûr,” Yvonne replied, satisfied that her admonition had been heeded.
They continued to chat until a flutter of excitement ran through the group of ladies and Lysette half turned to find
the dark figure of her husband beside her. Max greeted the women politely and extended his gloved hand to Lysette. “I am stealing you for a dance,” he informed her.
Lysette went with him gladly, lured by the buoyant melody of a quadrille.
“I haven’t danced in a long time,” Max told her. “I am somewhat out of practice, petite.”
“Don’t you like to dance, Max?”
“Yes, I do. But it hasn’t always been easy for me to find partners. My wicked reputation, remember.”
“You have a partner now,” Lysette said as they took their places in the quadrille. “A most willing one.” After they danced several sets, they stopped as the musicians took a brief respite from playing. Max drew Lysette to the side of the drawing room, next to a row of French doors that opened to the outside gallery.
As a servant passed bearing a tray of champagne, Max took two glasses of the sparkling vintage and gave one to Lysette. She accepted it without hesitation and drank thirstily, heedless of the disapproving stares from nearby matrons. It was not proper for a young woman to drink in public, even a married one. Max, however, seemed amused, as if he were being entertained by the antics of a playful kitten.
“Mmmm… I feel a bit dizzy,” Lysette said breathlessly when she finished the champagne. Smiling, Max gave their empty glasses to another passing servant.
“Some fresh air will clear your head,” he said. “Would you like to go outside?”
She gave him a suspicious glance. “Are you going to make advances on me if I do?”
“Of course,” he replied without hesitation.
“In that case, yes.”
Adeptly Max slipped her past the French doors. Lysette laughed under her breath as he pulled her into the rustling garden, past tall yew hedges and rosemary-covered walls. She felt wicked and giddy, as if she were having a clandestine meeting with a lover. Max lifted her off her feet and whirled her around, making her giggle. Throwing her arms around his neck, she leaned against him, while a sobering thought occurred to her.
“Max… what if we had met this evening for the very first time, and I were Etienne Sagesse’s wife?” Lysette tightened her arms a little. “I could so easily have been his bride instead of yours. If I hadn’t run away, or if Justin and Philippe hadn’t found me… or if you had decided to give me back to the Sagesses—”
“I would never have given you back. And if you had married Sagesse, I would have taken you away from him. No matter how I had to do it.”
From any other man, it would have sounded like an empty boast. From Max, however, it was entirely believable. Lysette gazed at him in wonder, his face shadowed and his head silhouetted against the hazy starlit sky. “Mon mari,” she said softly, “sometimes you almost frighten me.”
Max stroked her throat and let his fingers drift to the perspiration-dampened valley of her cleavage. “Why?”
Lysette’s eyes half closed as his fingers slipped inside her bodice to touch her nipple. “You are so ruthless when it comes to getting what you want. It makes me wonder if anything could ever stop you.”
“You could.” Max played gently with the soft peak of her breast until it budded against his fingers. “You know that.”
His mouth descended to her neck, and she sighed in pleasure. “Then if I ever asked you to do something against your will… you would?”
“Of course.”
Her breathing hastened as she felt the warm slide of his lips over her throat. Slipping her hand behind his neck, she nuzzled into his thick hair. “Max… I must tell you how much I—”
She broke off, startled as a shadow disentangled itself from the tall yew shrubs. Her first thought was that it was some kind of animal, but quickly the shadow assumed the shape of a man strolling toward them. Max turned and automatically jerked Lysette behind him as he faced the approaching figure.
Lysette felt an unpleasant shock, rather like the all-over stinging sensation of barely saving oneself from a fall, when she heard the voice of Etienne Sagesse.
“Ah, Lysette,” he drawled, coming closer. It was obvious that he was drunk, his words slurred, his face puffy and florid. “You seem to be enjoying yourself, ma chère. But I pity you. Someday you’ll realize how much wiser you would have been to stay with me. And I’m afraid that poor Corinne would most definitely agree.”
Chapter 11
Lysette had known it was inevitable that she would someday come vis-à-vis Etienne Sagesse. However, no amount of expectation could have prepared her for it. She remembered in a flash the loathing she had felt for him, the fear and desperation that had driven her to take the foolish risk of traveling through the bayou alone. She did not doubt for one moment that her opinion of him had been well founded. If she had married Sagesse, he would have insulted her, condescended to her, debased her in a hundred ways. Blindly searching for Max’s hand, Lysette felt his fingers close reassuringly over hers.
“What do you want?” Max asked Sagesse curtly.
“Why, to congratulate you. Since I was not invited to the wedding, I didn’t have the opportunity before now.” Sagesse’s smile was reptilian as he regarded Lysette’s flushed face. “You seem to be content as a Vallerand, Lysette. But as I recall, so did Corinne… at first.”
“If you want another duel,” Max growled, “you’ll have it. And this time I’ll finish it.”
“Is that a challenge?”
“No,” Lysette said quickly. “Max—”
“Not a challenge, but a warning,” Max said, ignoring Lysette’s outburst. His hand tightened to silence her, and she flinched as her fingers were squeezed together.
“You think you’ve won,” Etienne said to Max. “You have everything you want, don’t you? But it is only a matter of time before you lose it all— and it will be my pleasure to watch your downfall.”
He nearly tripped over his own feet as he wandered away, weaving drunkenly across the lawn.
Lysette and Max watched in silence until he disappeared. “I hope that his family takes him home before he makes a public scene,” Lysette said. “He seems to want to ruin himself. It is strange, but as much as I hate him… just now I actually pitied him.”
Max regarded her with a sardonic expression.
“Didn’t you?” she asked.
“No.”
“I think you did.” Lysette pressed against his shirtfront, breathing in his familiar scent. “We won’t let Sagesse spoil our evening, Max. Take me back inside— I want to dance again.”
Unfortunately, despite Lysette’s determined efforts to enjoy herself, Sagesse’s presence cast a pall over the evening. He remained in the corner of the drawing room, staring at her, while the other Sagesses endeavored to keep him quiet. The guests at the ball kept glancing between the Sagesses and the Vallerands, until finally Lysette gave in and ruefully asked Max to take her home.
Max said little on the way back to the Vallerand plantation. Lysette made desultory conversation with Irénée and Alexandre, exchanging observations and bits of gossip. “How was your evening?” she asked Alexandre. “Did you approach Henriette Clement’s tante?“
“Oh, yes,” Alex said gloomily. “I hovered around her for at least a quarter hour, feeling like a complete fool. She seems to believe that no innocent young woman would be safe in the company of a Vallerand, even with ten chaperones present.”
“I can’t imagine why,” Lysette said dryly, and glanced at Max with a smile. “Quest-ce que c’est?“ she asked softly, while Irénée and Alexandre became involved in a discussion of the Clements. “Still thinking about Etienne Sagesse?”
Max shook his head, staring at the scenery outside as the carriage sluggishly traveled the muddy road. “No… it has nothing to do with him, but I have a bad feeling. I’m not certain why. But I will be glad when we reach home.”
Unfortunately, Max’s premonition was proven right. As soon as they entered the house, Noeline greeted them, her usually imperturbable face set with worry. Philippe sat on one of the narrow benches
in the entranceway, looking haggard.
“Monsieur, Justin has been gone all day,” Noeline told them tersely. “He did not come home to eat tonight.”
Max turned to Philippe. “Where is he?”
Philippe stood to face him with a troubled expression. “I don’t know, Father. The pirogue is gone— Justin has taken it somewhere.”
“When did you last see him?”
“This morning. Justin was boasting that he sneaked out last night after bedtime. He said he had met some of the crew of a flatboat on Tchoupitoulas Street and planned to go with them tonight. But I didn’t think he would actually do it.”
“Oh, my poor Justin!” Irénée cried in distress.
Max cursed quietly. Flatboat men lived, ate, and slept on the deck of their boats with no protection against the outdoors. Their idea of entertainment was to swill rye whiskey, brawl, and wallow in unsavory flesh houses where disease and violence were rampant. When they fought, they bit, kicked, and gouged eyes out, mutilating an opponent without mercy. By now they might have made short work of Justin.
“Which crew?” Max demanded. “Which boat?”
Philippe shook his head helplessly.
Max turned to the door, where Alexandre stood with his mouth open. “We have to find him.”
Alex backed away a step. “Oh, no. I make every effort to steer clear of such fellows. I won’t risk my neck merely to rescue your fool of a son, who doesn’t want to be found in the first place. Just go to sleep. He’ll probably be back by morning.”
“Or end up in the river with his throat cut.” Max brushed past his brother and headed outside.
“You won’t find him,” Alexandre warned.
“Oh, yes, I will. And after I make certain he’s all right, I’m going to tear him limb from limb.”
Hastily, Lysette ran after him. “Max, be careful.” He acknowledged her with a brief gesture of his hand, not bothering to look back. She bit her lip, wanting to call after him again, knowing how terrified he was for his son. Whirling around, she went back to Alexandre, gripping his arm and tugging hard. “You must go with him. You must help him.”