Luc had barely said a word to her all afternoon. He seemed to be ignoring her. That was fine with Callie. She could ignore him as easily as he her.
Callie wore the ivory dress and felt constricted by all the items she had to wear. She had thought that binding her breasts had been uncomfortable, but the corset Eloise had insisted she stuff herself into was worse--much worse. She was not happy. Every breath she took was such an effort she’d exhausted herself in less than an hour.
Luc had chosen a brown suit to wear for dinner and he looked strange in it. Callie had never seen him in anything but his uniform. And his birthday suit, a small voice said and she remembered the sight of his naked body in the moonlight.
The array of silverware in front of her was still confusing despite Eloise’s efforts to teach her. And the glasses terrified her. She had a glass for each type of wine served with the meal. And she still didn’t know which one was which. The plates were all sizes and shapes and filled with different foods that tempted her with their smells. She ached to try them, but one bite seemed to be all she could manage.
“You’ve hardly touched your food.” He pointed at her full plate. “Don’t you like it?”
Like it? She lusted after it. “Captain, I want to eat. I just can’t. I don’t know how. I don’t even know what fork to use.” She couldn’t breathe, she couldn’t eat. She was surprised city women survived their city life. Being a lady wasn’t working with her. “Do all city women wear corsets?” She nibbled at the piece of chicken in front of her.
Luc dropped his fork. “Underwear is not a proper dinner conversation.”
“Captain, I...”
“And I think it’s time you started calling me Luc. I won’t take offense.”
Soldiers didn’t call their commanding officers by their first names. She lifted her chin. “Who’s gonna hear us talk about underwear? I’ve been cooped up in this room for two days now. I’ve been pinched, poked, hemmed in and fussed over. I’ve earned the right to talk about my underwear.” Her hand strayed to smooth the silk fabric over her leg. She’d lusted after clothes like Esme’s and her new dress, as beautiful as it was, made her feel like a painted doll. She felt out-of-place and awkward.
“It must be the sea air, you have turned into the feistiest shrew I’ve ever known.”
“Captain, are you calling me a rat? Because if you are, I have my knife. Just because you’re a man and bigger than me doesn’t mean I can’t gut you.”
Luc hit the table with the open palm of his hand. “Call me Luc. I insist on it for the time being. Just say Luc.”
“I...”
“Luc,” he repeated.
She took as deep a breath as her corset would allow. “Luc, you started this by making me wear this stupid corset.” Just the effort of talking left her breathless. “I can’t even take a deep breath because I’m afraid my ribs will crack.”
“You don’t seem to be running out of air anytime soon.”
She glared at him.
“Don’t you stare at me like that,” Luc said.
“Like what?”
“Like you hate me.”
She sat back, startled. “I don’t hate you. I think I’m just mad at you now. Or maybe I’m made at myself for wanting to be something I’m not.”
“You can be anything you want.” He gave her an odd look, and Callie thought she detected pity in his eyes.
“You’re playing with me,” she said.
“I don’t play.” He took a deep breath. “Maybe I just enjoy being nice to you.”
“I may not be city-wise, but I do know that everything has a price.” She leaned forward. “Captain, sir, what is the price for all these new gowns that I can’t afford to pay for?”
Luc drew back, his eyes going wide and his eyebrows arched in surprise. “I understand that you feel you must pay me back in some way, but a simple thank you is enough. You’ve lived in the desert all your live. If you hadn’t come to Fort Duncan, you would still be in the desert. I thought you’d like to see that there is more to life than an adobe hovel and forty acres of land.”
The window gave a tantalizing glimpse of the city and Callie was anxious to see some of it, to store the sights and sounds in her memory to tell her mother about later. “Show me the city instead of keeping me cooped up here. I don’t need fancy clothes for that.”
“You have a uniform you wear in the army and you need a uniform here.”
She shook her head. “I don’t understand. People aren’t going to notice me any more here in my old clothes, than at Fort Duncan.”
Luc laughed. “You’re a beautiful woman and where else in the world would you be most appreciated than here. New Orleans has worshiped beautiful women for over two hundred years.”
She eyed him suspiciously. “But your sister said the same thing about Paris.”
“If Paris were closer, I’d take you there. Maybe someday I will, but for now, New Orleans is going to have to do.”
“But we can’t walk around here. Because people will stare at me. Because we’re...you’re...I’m, you know.”
“Callie,” Luc said sternly, “you’ve spent a sheltered life. New Orleans has places I can take you where it is acceptable for a white man to be seen in the company of a beautiful black woman. Restaurants, theaters, walking in the park. I can even take you to Mass if I chose to, and no one would bat an eyelash. If ever a place existed in this country where I could take you out, New Orleans is the place.”
“Why do you want to take me out?” The very idea of going to dinner in a restaurant terrified her. She’d never eaten something she hadn’t grown or killed herself. Who even knew where the food came from and who had touched it. “I don’t think I want to go to a restaurant.”
Luc looked surprised. “But you want to be a lady. Ladies eat in restaurants.”
She was having trouble choosing the right forks to use in the privacy of her room. She couldn’t conceive of going out in public and embarrassing herself. “I don’t think we should be seen in public together.”
“But I already explained to you that being seen with you will raise no eyebrows.”
“Maybe, but I don’t think I could be at ease hanging on to your arm. I can’t walk like a real person in these clothes.” Though she had to admit, the women she studied in the lobby seemed to handle themselves without tripping over their hems.
Probably because they didn’t have to get anywhere in a hurry. Somehow chasing rustlers in a silk dress ticked her funny bone. She could see herself sitting in the saddle with the skirt hiked up around her waist showing off everything she owned. Suddenly she giggled.
“What’s so funny?” Luc asked.
“Me.” She covered her face with her hands. Boy, was she rude. She was throwing a gift horse back at him. Whatever his motives were, he’d been nice to her. He’d taught her to read, to be a lady. He treated her like a person, not a black woman. When they’d been on the trail, he’d asked her opinion as though it mattered. He was trying to do the best for her. And she knew she should show more of her appreciation, she was just beginning doubt her motives.
When she had first asked him to help her, deep inside herself she knew the real reason. Not because she really wanted to be a lady, but because she wanted him to be attracted to her. She didn’t know any other way to draw his attention to her. He was a man who could have any woman he wanted. And she wanted him to want her.
A chill traveled up and down her spine. Her stomach clenched with a roiling fear that left her mouth dry and her heart thudding tightly in her chest.
“Callie, what’s wrong?” Luc asked, his eyes showing concern.
“Nothing.” She stared down at her plate trying to make her face and eyes empty so he couldn’t read into her soul. Her throat closed and she found breathing almost impossible.
“You look like you’ve eaten something that didn’t agree with you.”
“I’m fine.” She shoved herself from the table.
“If you w
ould like, we could go for a walk after dinner.”
He was offering her a treat. She shook her head. “I don’t think so.” She pushed away from the table and stood. “I think I’m going to bed.” She glanced at the window and realized that the light had faded to a dusky purple streaked sky. “If you’ll excuse me.” She opened the door to her bedroom and went inside.
Callie sat on the edge of the bed. She took off the shoes that so offended her feet. She stretched her toes out and flexed her feet, relieved to have them free of the cramped shoes. She stood and pulled her hem up over her head and tugged and tugged and tugged. How the hell was she supposed to get out of the dress?
She stood in front of the mirror and twisted and turned trying to see how the back was fastened. When Eloise had draped the dress over her head, Callie had been too enchanted to see what else she was doing. Faced with her back, she could a row of tiny buttons, so dainty she didn’t think she’d ever be able to loosen them.
Callie reached for her knife and slipped it into the bodice and stopped, staring at herself in the mirror. Her short hair was a cap of wild curls about her face and her eyes were wide and frightened looking like a deer at night stumbling into camp.
She couldn’t cut this dress off. Luc had paid for it and it wasn’t hers to destroy. How was she going to get undressed? She glanced at the door and knew she’d have to swallow her pride and ask Luc to help her.
Her steps dragged all the way to the door. She opened it to find Luc still sitting where she’d left him. He’d refilled his wineglass and had lit a cigar. A fragrant cloud of smoke encircled his head. He eyed her as she entered the parlor. He’d removed his jacket, opened the top buttons of the shirt and rolled up his shirt sleeves. His arms were muscular with the skin tanned from years in the sun. And she found herself staring at his skin.
“I need help.” Her voice came out sulky and angry.
“What do you want me to do?” He stood and waited, the cigar clenched between his fingers. He raised the wineglass to his lips and took a long drink.
“I can’t reach the buttons.”
“You seem to have found yourself in quite a dilemma.” His lips quirked.
He was teasing her, and Callie’s frustration level rose another notch. She wanted to stamp her feet, but worried he wouldn’t help her if she did. Her mother had hated her temper tantrums, and Callie worked hard to control herself. But the look on his face made her want to scream at him. He was so composed, so self-assured, nothing ever rattled Luc’s feathers. Which was probably why he was the officer and she was the scout.
She gritted her teeth. “Could you please help me?”
“What’s my name?”
“Captain.”
“No.”
She bit the inside of her lip. “Luc.” The name was foreign on her tongue and she stumbled over it.
He smiled. “I’ll be happy to help you.”
“I thought officers were supposed to be gentlemen.”
He tilted his head at her. “Why would you think that?”
“You should have offered to help. You knew I couldn’t get out of these clothes by myself.”
“But you didn’t know that.”
“Please.”
“My pleasure. It’s been a long time since I’ve played at being a lady’s maid.”
She wondered how many women he’d actually undressed. From the tone in his voice, more than she wanted to know. What would his fingers feel like against her skin? What kind of lover would he be like? Not that she’d ever had a lover before, but she’d let Jimmy Red Bear kiss her. The kiss had been sweet, but uninspiring. Of course, she’d been thirteen years old at the time.
He took another sip from his wine and put the cigar down. Then he sauntered toward her, a small smile tipping up the ends of his mouth.
Callie backed away from him.
“Don’t run away little rabbit, I don’t bite.” His voice was silky smooth and seductive.
Callie couldn’t swallow. She trembled. She back up until she bumped into the wall.
Luc touched her cheek. His fingers left a blazing trail of heat as he slid his hands down her shoulders to her arms. Then he turned her around and placed his hands flat on her back and ran them downward from shoulders to waist.
Callie’s knees went weak and she pressed her hands against the wall to steady her.
His fingers touched the back of her neck. “Such tiny buttons. This could take me awhile.”
Her spine stiffened. “I’m sure you’ve done this before any number of times.”
“My fair share, but never with someone so delectable.”
His voice was a caress, and Callie felt the deepest purr start in her throat. She had to fight the urge not to lean back against his broad chest. Never in her life, had she felt such raging emotions. She didn’t want his hands to stop with the buttons. She wanted him to continue down to her skin.
When the dress was loose, he swept her curls back and she felt the pressure of his warm lips on the back of her neck. His breath was a flame that heated her in radiating waves down her spine. She could barely stand. Every part of her wanted to turn around and experience his lips on hers.
He nipped at her skin and her back arched. Her breasts grew tight against the constriction of the corset. Heat grew in her until she couldn’t breathe.
“Don’t do that,” she said.
“Why not?” His voice was husky and harsh.
Callie could barely control her trembling. She didn’t know if she were excited or frightened. Each tremor that shook her sent her pulse racing. “When we return to Fort Duncan, I have to go back to being who I was. I don’t want be your fancy woman.”
His fingers touched her waist. “I haven’t asked you yet.”
“Not with words.”
He slid the dress forward down her arms. He tugged at the corset until it loosened. Callie found her breath.
“How old are you?” He asked.
“Nineteen.”
“You’re hardly a woman yet.”
She turned around and looked at his face. Then her eyes strayed downward and she saw the bulge in his trousers. “I’m woman enough for you now.”
He cupped her face with his hands and tilted her face up. “I can’t hide anything from you can I?”
She shoved him away. “I can finish, thank you.” Holding her bodice to her chest, she ran into her room and slammed the door.
She leaned against the cool wood and stared at the opposite wall. What am I going to do?
* * *
Luc buttoned his shirt and cuffs, grabbed his coat and opened the door to find Cornelius with his hand raised as though he were about
to knock. A second man stood with him, bearing a slight resemblance. Luc decided the man was Milo, Cornelius’ cousin.
“Mr. Delacroix,” Cornelius said, “I was just coming to find you. This is my cousin, Milo, servant to Mr. Jonas.”
Luc held out his hand to Milo and Milo stared at it. Then he wiped the palm of his hand on the back of his trousers and shook Luc’s hand. “Evenin’, sir.”
Cornelius slapped his cousin on the back. “You need to know about Mr. Jonas. Milo here knows all there is to know about Mr. Jonas. Don’t you, Milo?”
Milo simply shrugged. “I just drive the carriage, Cornelius. He says I can trust you, sir.”
Luc smiled at the man. “Where can go go. I want to ask you about Mr. Ramsaye. And then I want you to point him out to me.”
“Yes, sir. I’ll meet you outside in five minutes.” Milo turned and hurried down the hallway, Cornelius following.
Milo led Luc down a side street toward a simple looking building with a white facade and an emblem embedded in the corner. A line of carriages waited and Milo opened the door of one and gestured for Luc to step inside. “Mr. Jonas is inside here, sir. He’ll be occupied for a few hours. But you and me, we can talk in here for a bit.”
Luc stepped into the carriage and Milo followed him. He left the door opened and
seated himself across from Luc in a position so he could watch the front door.
“How long have you worked for Jonas?” Luc asked.
“From just after the war. He pays good. Course not many people like Mr. Jonas. Myself included, if you don’t mind my saying.”
Luc hid a grin. Milo was a talker. All Luc had to do was ask one question, and he would get the answer for the next three, too. “What don’t you like about him.”
“That man is pure evil.” Milo shook his head. “He’s mean. He’d work a body to death if he could get away with it and it was easy enough to replace it. I’d a left long ago if I didn’t have so many mouths to feed. But then again, Mr. Jonas don’t pay no mind. I drive the carriage and take care of the horses. I like the horses better than Mr. Jonas. And they like me better.”
“How is he mean?”
Milo clicked his tongue against his teeth. “He don’t pay no never mind to his children. He treats those girls like they was trash. All he can think about is getting them all married off and that’s going to cost him. They is not pretty. And then his wives. I don’t know how he can get such ugly children from such pretty girls. I think they take one look at them ugly babies and keel over. Mr. Jonas has lost himself a pack of wives. Not a one of them twenty yet. And they get younger and younger. He’s got his eye on a pretty little thing and she’s sixteen if she’s a day. Don’t even want to be in the same room with him. Took them for a carriage ride and all she did was sit back here and cry. How her mama wants to make her marry a man she fears. I understand Mr. Jonas though. He wants himself a son to leave all his worldly things to. Like all those worldly things matter. Mr. Jonas, he wants a legacy. If he could make himself king, he would.”
The outpouring of Milo’s information, exceeded Luc’s imagination.
Luc pulled a gold piece out of his pocket. “Thank you, Milo.”
“But this is twenty dollars, sir. Way too much for...” Milo attempted to hand the coin back.
After The Lies Page 18