After The Lies

by Mandessa Selby

  Curious to experience how his mouth would feel on her there she gave into his demand.

  He lifted himself and positioned himself between her legs. Callie closed her eyes and he put her legs over his shoulders. She felt so exposed. Her nerves were on edge and her stomach was tight.

  Again time stood still as she waited for his newest way at pleasuring her. He placed a kiss right at her center and a wanton shiver went through her. His tongue slipped inside her. Callie groaned and arched her hips. His tongue did wondrous things to her body and she was helpless to stop her reactions. Honey hot heat washed over her as he caressed her. Callie made herself relax and let the sensations wash over her. The now familiar tightening built in her body and instead of fighting it she gave herself over. Her hips wriggled as she wanted him further inside her. Her back arched and she fisted the bed covers. Her body exploded and she cried out Luc’s name.

  As she came back down to earth, Luc moved over her. He braced his hands on either side of her. She looked up at his handsome face, his green eyes glittering like jewels. His powerfully muscled chest heaved with every breath.

  “Put your legs around my waist.”

  She did as he commanded. She lifted her hips until his erection was nestled on her stomach. “Love me. Now.”

  He laughed and lowered his body over hers. His eyes smouldered. Carefully entered her.

  With a slight thrust he broke though the barrier of her virginity.

  Callie bit her lip to stop from crying out. A look of pure guilt colored his face. She reached up and touched his cheek.

  Oddly enough her body seemed to adjust to him inside her instantly. Her muscled conformed to his length as if she was made only for him. He began moving in slow steady strokes.

  Callie threaded her fingers through his black hair. She brought his mouth to hers. Their kiss was sweet and lingering. Again he spoke to her in French. Softly and lovingly. She didn’t understand the actual words, but she knew the feeling behind them.

  Sweat trickled down his back as her hands spanned his back. He felt so hot and alive. The light from the single lamp illuminated his body giving his a slick look of ivory. His movements increased. Callie could feel herself moving closer to the edge. She chanted Luc’s name urging

  him on. He dropped his head into her neck. The first wave of pleasure

  washed over her and her whole body tensed. Luc must have sensed her readiness, he began to thrust deep inside her. Callie cried out his name as a surge of ecstasy crashed over her.

  He moaned her name and went still on top of her. Their bodies melted together. They lay like that for long seconds, she was to afraid to speak to end the moment. The one thing she knew they could never go back to who they used to be.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Esme sat at Luc’s desk making a list of all the possible people on the post who could be the spy. This detecting was so much fun. Too bad the Pinkerton Agency didn’t hire women. Maybe the United States would get into a war with Mexico and she could be a spy. Just a little war. Nothing that lasted longer than a few months. Longer than that would be redundant.

  She laughed at herself. She wasn’t spying. She was snooping. Spying was honorable. Snooping was a woman’s skill.

  Reggie entered the office and she smiled at him.

  “Miss Delacroix.” He touched his hat and smiled at her.

  She tilted her head in a flirtation manner. “I told you to call me Esme.”

  He grinned at her. “Writing a letter to Luc?”

  “I like sitting at his desk. It’s the seat of power. And I do so adore power.”

  He sat on a corner of the desk. “You have power--the power to break my heart.” He placed one hand on his chest.

  “Lieutenant. Reggie. A bit of advice about women, never let them know they have power over you. You give them an unfair advantage.”

  He gave her a puppy dog glance as though he were a hungry man and she were a turkey leg. Young men were all alike. They saw her as a desirable woman even as they checked her bank account. Beautiful women were everywhere, but beautiful with money were a rarity, except maybe in Europe. “Reggie, have you ever considered a tour in Europe. You would be very popular there. With your connections, all you would have to do is lift a finger and every available woman would fall at your feet. European women adore men in uniforms.” Reggie shrugged. “My duty is here with Luc.”

  She put her chin on interlocked fingers. “Loyalty, is another quality women seek.” Even though Luc and Reggie had been friends for years, she didn’t know him except through Luc’s letters. While on the surface Reggie had a cavalier stance, she sensed there depths to him that no one knew about. His comment about fidelity didn’t sit right with her. She had

  the feeling that his expression of allegiance for Luc was nothing more than an attempt to impress her. Not that his admission was strange, she heard it all the time. Again, she sensed he was doing nothing more than plumbing the depths of her bank book.

  She folded her list of names and tucked it into her reticule and stood up. Luc would be so pleased when he found out she’d done all the preliminary work for him.

  “Leaving so soon.”

  “I’m having tea with Mrs. Adams and some of the ladies. I intend to find out every bit of gossip about everything.”

  “Luc said you were interested in opening a school for the darkies. I can help you.”

  She grinned at him. “Lieutenant, you are too busy defending the United States to worry about a school. Thank you for your offer, but Monty has already offered his services.”

  “I certainly can’t do more than a General.” He stood aside from the door to allow her to exit. “But if there is anything I can do, please don’t hesitate to let me know. May I escort you to your tea?”

  “Thank you, no. I’m sure you have more pressing business to take care of.” She stood on the walkway and opened her parasol for her walk across the parade ground.

  * * *

  Esme sat with a smile pasted on her face, listening to the boring chatter of Mrs. Adams and the other women of the post. During her several hours in their company, she’d discovered that the Major liked his whiskey. Lieutenant Magill kept an expensive mistress in Eagle’s Pass, and Master Sergeant Lawrence had a gambling problem and his wife took in laundry for extra money. Lieutenant Rippy’s wife was having an affair with a local rancher. And that every one of the officers’ wives complained about a lack of money. All the women admired Reggie because he worked hard and sent home what money he didn’t need for his mother and sisters.

  Esme was disappointed. She had too many suspects and not enough information to narrow the field. Being around the Major’s wife and her friends made Esme miss her own many women friends in Europe. She resolved to write each and every one of them a letter this very evening to catch them on her new life.

  As the women chattered, Esme found herself drawing the women, one by one, showing their animated faces. European women were more sophisticated about their feelings. American women were more open, more willing to share. Esme liked that in them. As she completed each drawing, she presented it to the subject and was rewarded with appreciation and several requests to draw miniatures of their children.

  When the tea finally ended, Esme returned to Luc’s quarters to mull over the information that she had. She sat in the parlor, the front door open to let in the breeze, while she added the information she’d gleaned to her list.

  A knocked sounded on the door and she glanced up to find General Hammond watching her. “How is your investigation going, my dear.” He entered and seated himself across from her.

  “How did you know?” She folded her list and put it away in a drawer.

  “How could I not know? You’ve talked to everyone on this post and asked questions with the finesse of an inquisitor.”

  “I didn’t realize I’ve been so transparent.”

  Monty grinned at her. “Back in Washington during the War, my job was to identify Confederate spies. Y
ou my dear, could bring about the downfall of an Empire.”

  “I’m going to take that as a compliment.”

  He grinned at her. “As it was intended. Would you care to share your information?”

  “I know, you, me and Luc,” and possibly Callie, but Esme didn’t want to bring any undue attention to the young woman, “are not the spies. But who the spy might be, I don’t really know. But I will find out as much as I can to pass on to Luc.”

  Monty smiled at her. “You’re doing a good job, but be careful.”

  She smiled and nodded. “Always, Monty. Always.”

  * * *

  Luc woke the next morning with Callie curled up next to him. She looked soft and vulnerable in the morning sunlight. He just wanted to look at her. He could stare at her for the rest of his life. He wanted to protect her.

  He gently ran his fingers along the line of her cheek. She stirred, but didn’t wake. He leaned back and closed his eyes. He had so much to think about. His father was dying and probably wouldn’t live much longer, he had to stop the wedding between Jonas Ramsaye and Simone, and he had to decide what to do with Callie.

  He’d never had so many life effecting choices to make in so little time. And each one he had to make would ripple like a stone tossed into a still pond. He only hoped he had the fortitude to withstand the onslaught of waves crashing on the shore.

  * * *

  Luc sat in the bank President’s office waiting for him to return. The window was open to the street and the bustle of the city. New Orleans had grown up in the years Luc had been gone. The city had changed from a domestic port to an international one, from a small city to a large one. Masted ships rode at anchor at the docks. People thronged the streets. Merchants hawked their wares from wheeled carts. The aroma of spicy Creole good scented the air.

  Luc knew he could never live here again. He felt confined, closed in, after the openness of the west. He was anxious to return to Fort Duncan, except that he couldn’t leave just yet, and a return to the fort meant that the relationship between him and Callie would change. In their hotel room, they inhabited a world of their own making, a man and a woman making love. Back at Fort Duncan, she would be Cal and he would Captain Delacroix again, at opposite ends of the social structure. He would be white again, and she would be black. He felt a deep dissatisfaction at the changes that would happen once they returned.

  Grant Tigler returned to the office and settled behind his desk. He was in his middle sixties with slicked-back, silver hair framing a still-handsome face. “Captain Delacroix, I hoped your sister would be with you. Such a charming lady.” Tigler was a native and his approving words told Luc that he knew exactly who Luc and Esme were, but was willing to overlook their heritage for the sake of having their money.

  Luc smiled. “Esme is not in New Orleans. But she is deeply concerned, as I am, about this inappropriate arrangement between our half-sister, Simone, and Jonas Ramsaye.” He felt a stab of indignation that the banker was so vital and alive while Luc’s father, many years younger was dying.

  Tigler frowned. “You realize I cannot reveal confidential information, but I can say that I attempted to speak to Madam Delacroix about this. I hinted to her that Mr. Ramsaye’s financial situation is not what it seems, but ...” he paused as he considered his next words, “Mr. Ramsaye has an investment that appears sound on the surface.”

  “Meaning,” Luc prompted wondering what the banker was hinting at. Luc needed more than hints, he needed direct information.

  Grant Tigler hesitated and then nodded as though he had come to a decision. “Mr. Ramsaye borrowed heavily to invest in a shipping venture to China. The ship is now five months overdue and Mr. Ramsaye’s loan will mature in less than month.”

  “Interesting. Thank you, Mr. Tigler.” Luc stood. “I’ll be in touch.”

  The bank president stood and for a moment seemed undecided about something, and then he put his hand out to shake Luc’s. For a second, Luc was shaken by a white man knowingly offering to shake his hand. Their palms touched and Luc discovered the other man’s grip to be firm and solid and again he found himself comparing this man to his father.

  Luc walked down the stairs and out the double doors to the busy street. He gazed back and forth searching to see if Callie had followed him again. But he’d worn her out this morning. She’d been insatiable.

  He refocused on Jonas Ramsaye and his five month overdue ship along with the loan which had to be repaid in less than a month. Jonas must be a very nervous man by now. Luc could use that. He had known that Jonas was in a financially precarious position, he just hadn’t known how precarious. Why he wanted to take on another wife was beyond Luc’s comprehension? Unless Jonas had some expectation of inheriting the French Quarter address once Luc’s father died.

  As he walked down the street, he ran all the information through his head trying to figure all the angles from Jonas’ point of view. He had the feeling Jonas didn’t know Esme had purchased the mortgage on the house. Jonas probably figured that Simone was a good catch. The Delacroix family had lived in New Orleans for over a hundred fifty years and was a fixture in Creole society even in their reduced circumstances.

  If Jonas married Simone he would have a prestigious address and an entree into the still closed and eminent Creole society. What more could a man want?

  What about Natalie? What would she gain from the marriage. If Jonas’ ship arrived, Simone would be an extremely wealthy young wife, and Natalie would be able to move about in society again. Simone could hardly put on a show of wealth while her mother lived in on the edge of poverty. Not that Natalie was poor any longer since Esme had been extremely generous with the trust fund. But Luc figured that Natalie found the strings of the trust fund too confining. She wanted more.

  Oh God, he was thinking like Esme! He didn’t know whether to be proud of himself or frightened that he had been able to decipher the twists and turns of such a scheme. Deciphering was Esme’s realm. Luc just plowed straight ahead while Esme saw the mystery within the puzzle.

  Before heading to Jonas’ house, Luc took a side trip to the docks and talked to the sailors on several of the ships moored at the docks. No one had seen the Sea Maiden, out of Shanghai. No one knew if the ship was lost at sea, or simply slow getting back to New Orleans. While the sailors had heard nothing good, neither had they heard anything bad. And bad news always shot around the world long before the good. Luc came away with a plan.

  * * *

  Jonas Ramsaye’s house looked like a monstrosity. Built to impress, the Gothic style mansion didn’t fit with the elegant plantation style of the other homes in the Garden District. A rumor stated that Jonas had come to New Orleans from New York in the 1840s under a cloud of rumor involving his first wife and her death. Since then he’d attempted to storm the southern social bastion by marrying into different families. Although his infusion of cash had been appreciated, Jonas had been barely tolerated. He’d never been able to catch a woman as prestigious as a Delacroix.

  Luc opened the wrought iron gate and headed up the path to the front door. He knocked and found himself admitted to the house by a dour looking housekeeper.

  “If you will wait in here, I’ll inform Mr. Ramsaye you are here.” The housekeeper showed him into the parlor, another ugly room with heavy, dark carved furniture and thick red drapes covering the windows.

  The room needed light. Luc resisted the impulse to open the drapes and let the sunlight in. The house depressed him.

  The housekeeper returned, a frown on her face. “Mr. Ramsaye says he has no interest in meeting with you.”

  Luc had expected this response. “Inform Mr. Ramsay that I have information about his overdue ship.”

  A few minutes later, Jonas Ramsaye entered. He was a man with heavy features and a body growing too round for its clothes. “What do you know about my ship, boy?” His voice was filled with scorn.

  Luc smiled at the man. “Would you like to discuss your affairs here in the pa
rlor for everyone to hear, or would you prefer privacy.”

  Jonas scowled. Then he gestured for Luc to follow him and led the way down the hall to an office with the same dark furnishings. Floor to ceiling bookshelves hugged the walls. Books, looking brand new, rested on the shelves. From the dust gathering on the spines, Luc doubted that Jonas read much.

  Jonas settled himself behind an ornately carved desk and steepled his hands. “Well, I’m waiting.” Luc opened a cigar box and carefully chose one. Though the bands said the cigars were Cuban finest, once Luc lit one and inhaled, he realized Jonas had taken the identifying bands from the original cigars and placed around cheap imitations. Luc frowned and mashed the cigar into an ash tray. Then he sat down in a leather wing chair, crossed his legs and faced Jonas, to find the man’s face contorted with fury.

  “I understand that your ship hasn’t come in yet.”

  “China is a long ways away.”

  Luc lifted his eyebrows. “You’re very calm for a man whose ship is five months overdue, with the bank breathing down your neck and taking on the responsibility of a beautiful young bride and her family.”

  Jonas’ scowl deepened. “Boy, if you think you can scare me, think again.”

  “I’m not here to scare you. I’m here to deal with you.”

  A flicker of interest crossed Jonas’ face. “What do you have that I

  might want?” “Enough money to buy out your interest in the ship and to show a

  nice profit. Enough to pay off your debts and maybe start again.”

  “I don’t do business with your kind.”

  “People with money?” Luc asked with an innocent smile.

  “No, people with tainted blood.”

  “Even people with tainted blood have money. More money than you’re ever going to see again.”

  “When my ship ...”

  “The operative word here is if,” Luc said. “There are so many hazards on the sea. Storms, mutinies, pirates, the list is endless. Sea ventures should never be undertaken by those who cannot afford to lose the money. Unlike me.” He was so Esme at this moment, he couldn’t believe it. He and his sister were truly twins. He took back that lie he’d told her when she was five that she’d been lost by a troll. They were blood kin, after all.