“That’s kind of you, Cora,” Liam said, resting his hand on Scarlett’s.
Cora removed the lid off the tureen, and the aroma of the pumpkin soup had Scarlett inwardly drooling as she suddenly realized she was hungry. With the finesse of a well-bred lady, Cora ladled the soup in four bowls and passed them around.
Scarlett, glancing at the array of cutlery, knew she would not make a fool of herself as Ruby had taught them well.
“Tell me about yourself, Scarlett,” The Captain said. “I think I might need to get to know you a lot better, right, son?”
“Yes. I aim to marry Scarlett.”
“What!” his father spluttered. “You only met a few hours ago.”
“It’s long enough for me to know I want to spend the rest of my life with her, Pa.”
The older man’s eyes widened with shock, then clouded over with worry. “Give it more time, son.”
“Scarlett works for Jake,” Cora said with a nasty edge to her voice.
“I know,” Liam snapped. “It makes no difference to me. The past is the past, and I’m only concerned with the future.” He took an angry gulp of soup and cursed as it burnt his mouth.
“Please.” Scarlett touched Liam’s hand. “Don’t be angry, your father only has your best interests at heart. What would you like to know?”
Scarlett was proud of the way she spoke and conducted herself in public, thanks to Ruby. If it wasn’t for the tight fitting, low cut bodice of her gown, she could pass for a lady.
“I grew up in an orphanage.”
“What was it like?” Liam asked.
“Awful.” Scarlett shuddered. “I wouldn’t send a dog there.” The soup suddenly tasted foul.
“Never mind, life will be good for you now,” Liam said. “I’ll make sure it is.
Tears pooled in her eyes.
“How old are you?” Cora asked, although she knew, Jake would have made sure of that.
“Sixteen.”
“Sonofabitch.” The expletive shot from Liam’s mouth. “I didn’t realize you were that young.”
“Age doesn’t come into it,” the Captain said as she gave him a grateful smile. “Your mother was fifteen when we wed, and she birthed you ten months later.”
The steward returning for their bowls interrupted their conversation. How old had Liam supposed she was? Would it make any difference to how he felt about her?
Scarlett became aware of soft background music. A young man was playing the piano, loud enough to be heard yet soft enough as to be non-intrusive.
The main course was roast suckling pig with various roasted vegetables, accompanied by bread still warm from the oven. She watched the Captain quickly down three glasses of brandy, whereas Liam drank slowly, as if savoring every mouthful.
A young woman who Scarlett had never seen before, started singing. Her voice was so beautiful it was almost winsome. The room fell silent as she sang a ballad about a girl losing her soldier husband in a war hundreds of miles from home.
Tears sprang to Scarlett’s eyes. “That’s so sad,” she whispered.
“It’s only a song,” Cora sneered. “Silly to weep over it.”
“It shows she’s a caring person,” Liam said. “I’ve been in a war and never realized what it was like for the wives and sweethearts left behind.”
Plates of assorted French cakes and pastries were served with sweet black coffee. Scarlett’s appetite suddenly returned on seeing such fancy fare.
Cora tried to flirt with Liam who ignored all her advances. Finally giving up, Cora turned her attention to the Captain whose face was flushed from the liberal amount of brandy he had consumed.
“Would you like me to give you a massage in your cabin? Cora asked, running her tongue slowly across her lower lip.
The Captain chuckled. “Around my groin area needs the most attention. Your hot tongue and sharp little teeth can always relieve my itch.”
“Pa!”
“Tools of the trade for these pretty gals.”
Scarlett could not believe such a gentleman when sober, could turn so crude after a few drinks.
“Let’s dance.” Liam pulled her to her feet and as they headed to the dance floor, she glanced over one shoulder. The Captain rose from his chair and stumbled off clinging to Cora’s arm.
“Will your father be all right?”
“Yes, Cora will see to him, they go back a long way.”
“Oh, I thought she fancied you.”
He shrugged. “Maybe she does. I would never bed his women, nor he mine, it’s an unwritten law between us.”
When he took her in his arms, the warmth of his hard body, his male scent, drove every coherent thought out of her head. She melted against him.
“You dance well,” he whispered in her ear.
“So do you.” She nipped his ear and he let out a strangled groan.
“What in tarnation are you trying to do to me?”
“Please you.”
“You certainly do that. Let’s go out on deck and take in some fresh air before we go to your cabin.”
Holding hands, they strolled through double glass doors. The moment they stepped outside Scarlett inhaled the warm air permeated with the scent of spices and flowers intermingled with smoke pouring out of the boat’s chimneys. “So many different smells,” she said.
“Yeah, it’s a mixture of everything, the population is the same. American, French, Creole and Haitian. In some parts of New Orleans people practice voodoo.”
“What! Spells and things?”
He laughed. “They can put curses on people or stick pins into voodoo dolls.”
“I don’t believe in superstitious stuff like that.”
“Me either, but there are plenty of people who do. No more talking, I want to kiss you with the Mississippi breeze caressing our faces. If I could be sure we wouldn’t be seen, I’d like to strip you naked and make wild, passionate love to you out here.”
Desire, the like of which Scarlett had never experienced before, raged through her. Ruby had taught her all the ways to arouse a man, although she had never dreamed it could happen to her. Liam’s face blotted out the moon. The only stars she could see were those exploding inside her head. His hand slid inside the bodice of her gown, his fingers splaying across her breasts.
She returned his frenzied kisses with all the passion she could muster. Her legs felt so weak she had to cling to him to stop herself falling on to the deck. This night was special, she didn’t know why. Something from deep within told her it would never come again. This was her chance to do something special for Liam. On trembling legs she backed away, and with their mouths and bodies still clinging together, she maneuvered them away from the lighted area. In the darkest corner, she sank to her knees and undid the front of his pants to release his manhood.
Liam’s groans and gasps emboldened her, empowered her. His reaction told her she had aroused and pleasured him more than any other woman had before. After his release came he sank to his knees, bringing his face almost level with hers.
“That was something special, my love.” His voice was husky with emotion. “Let’s go up to your cabin so I can pleasure you. As soon as we get back to New Orleans we’ll be married. I love you, Scarlett. I’m thirty years old, and living the kind of life I did, I’ve had plenty of women. I swear, I’ve never told any other woman that I loved her. My only concern is the age difference between us.”
“I love you, and I don’t care how much older you are. I might be only sixteen in years, but I’m strong and mature, I wouldn’t have survived otherwise.” She wrapped her arms around his waist and rested her cheek against his chest as they stood without speaking, soaking up the atmosphere of the Mississippi River.
Liam’s hand caressed her back in a slow, circular motion and she felt truly peaceful and happy for the first time in her life. The soft slapping of water against the boat lulled her. Glancing up, she couldn’t see where the river ended and the sky began. In the distance lights
twinkled like tiny stars.
“You’re the only man I’ll ever love,” she whispered.
He must have heard the impassioned words because he tightened his grip on her.
“That’s good, because you’re the only woman I want to spend the rest of my life with. I love you will all my heart, and always will.” His mouth claimed hers in a tender kiss.
A sudden ear splitting bang shattered the silence, followed almost immediately by a ball of flame leaping up into the air.
“One of the boilers must have blown,” Liam yelled. Seconds later the front section of the Elegant Lady erupted in a fireball sending flaming debris into the sky. Horrendous screams rent the air. Scarlett didn’t know whether they were hers or not.
“Quick, jump into the water,” Liam ordered, ripping at her gown until it fell off. “Make for the shore. I have to help the others.”
“No! No!” she screamed. “Don’t go.”
He picked her up and dropped her the several feet into the river before dashing off. Another explosion was followed by another and another. The boat was a fireball. Burning rubble dropped into the water, a few people also. Instinctively Scarlett grabbed hold of a floating drum. It burned her hands, but she clung to it. “Liam. Liam,” she shouted. The only reply was bloodcurdling screams, cries for help, and the sizzling plop of flaming debris hitting the water.
Liam was dead. He couldn’t have survived, not when he had run toward the flames. The love of her life was gone. Her chance of happiness cruelly wrenched from her arms. She only had to let go and the mighty Mississippi would take her in its cavernous mouth and swallow her up for all eternity.
Chapter Five
“She’s waking up,” a male voice penetrated Scarlett’s darkness.
“Liam?”
“I’m the doctor, you’re safe, my dear.”
She tried to lift her arm but it was secured to her chest and wouldn’t move. Her eyes creaked open and she gasped in shock on seeing Jesus hanging from the cross a few feet away. She must have died and gone to heaven. Why would God leave his only son hanging on the cross? Who was the elderly man with the kind eyes who bent over her? Something was wrong here.
“Why did I go to heaven instead of hell? Fallen women can’t pass through the pearly gates.”
“You’re not dead.”
“I’m not? But….”
“You’re in the chapel of the Convent of Mercy in New Orleans.”
“What!”
“Most of the survivors from the steamboat were brought here.”
“Why?” she croaked.
An elderly nun with soft brown eyes held a mug to her lips and Scarlett felt the coolness of water tricking down her dry, burning throat.
“I’m afraid no-one else would take you in,” the doctor said. He cleared his throat. “Under the circumstances.”
Of course, Scarlett’s brain started to function. The decent, moral people of New Orleans wouldn’t welcome victims from a sunken whore boat into their homes.
“We turn no-one in need away from here,” the nun said softly with the slightest trace of a foreign accent. “I’m Sister Bernadette.”
“Thank you.” Scarlett barely had the strength to say anymore, but she had to. “Liam Stevenson?”
“I’m sorry,” the doctor said, “There’s no-one of that name here. There were only twenty survivors plucked from the water. Five were so badly burned they couldn’t live.”
“He was the boat’s Pilot.”
“I’m sorry, my dear, one of the crewmen wasn’t too badly injured and was able to identify his crewmates and your Liam wasn’t one of them. The Captain went down with his boat.”
Tears seeped from her eyes and stung as they rolled down her cheeks. “Am I badly burned?”
“Luckily, no. You have cuts and bruises and your skin is a little seared in places, there’ll be no scarring, though. Your main injury is a broken arm.”
“Would you like food?” the nun asked.
Scarlett shook her head.
“I think a small amount of broth would be in order thank you, Sister.” The nun nodded to the doctor before shuffling away.
“I don’t care if I never eat again. I want to die and be with Liam.”
“No, you don’t. You fought to live and you did. Your young man would be proud of you.”
“I’m no-body and I’ve got nothing now.”
He patted her hand. “Three of your, um, co-workers are here.”
“Cora?”
He shook his head.
“I don’t know any of the other girls, I never got the chance to meet them.”
“Someone called Owen will be collecting you in a couple of days. You’ll be well enough to leave here by then.”
Owen. She’d forgotten about him. Jake would certainly know by now. He would be furious that the boat was gone and most of his women with it. If she was scarred he wouldn’t want her back at The Black Stetson. What would she do then?
The doctor limped off. He was old she realized, probably sixty or more. The nuns would have helped the soiled doves, gamblers and crew members out of Christian duty, but why would he?
Sister Bernadette returned with another nun and they helped her sit up. Every bone in her body ached. She felt like she had been trampled by a herd of stampeding cattle.
Once a couple of pillows were placed at her back, it wasn’t too uncomfortable. Sister Bernadette spooned the warm broth into her mouth. Thankfully, she realized it was her left arm in the sling, and she was right handed.
“No more, Sister.” She turned her head away.
“Just a few more mouthfuls, my child, we need to build your strength up for when you leave here. Your friend Owen will be collecting you girls.”
He’s no friend of mine, she bit back the words. He worked for Jake. When the nuns made her comfortable Scarlett glanced around. Small stain glass windows adorned the side walls of the chapel. Over the altar was a large window depicting an angel guarding two small children.
Several makeshift beds nearly half filled the chapel. She didn’t recognize the other girls. One had a bandage covering her face and head and she moaned softly, another was asleep and didn’t appear to have a mark on her. The third dove’s hands were bandaged. Of the men, she recognized one of the gamblers from the saloon. His eyes were closed and his skin had a greyish tinge to it. He looked terrible, probably didn’t have much time left on this earth.
At least Liam had died with his father and they were probably already winging their way to paradise. It was the only way she could think about their deaths without going stark, raving mad.
Scarlett didn’t have money or anything of value on her. When Liam had pushed her into the water she was only wearing her undergarments. He had saved her life, but lost his own.
I’ll repay the nuns for their kindness one day, she vowed. Now Liam was gone she would work even harder to become rich. Money and what it could buy, was all she had to look forward to now.
****
Three months later
Scarlett had returned to work servicing her clients at The Black Stetson. Being a soiled dove wasn’t such a bad life when compared to New Orleans. That was one place she would never set foot in again. For a ruthless man Jake had been reasonably considerate. He didn’t force her back to work too soon. He let her choose how many of her stable of regular men she would service.
He had been enraged at the loss of the Elegant Lady. “Sonofabitch. I spent a fortune outfitting that boat, only to have it burnt to the water line.”
After she told him what had happened to Liam he had said. “Well, I hope you’re going to be worth his sacrifice,” before striding out of the room.
Those words were the cruelest he had ever flung at her. “I would have given up my own life to save Liam,” she shouted at his retreating back.
Scarlett had just finished an hour long interlude with Mr. P. a middle-aged Bank Manager who didn’t like being serviced by any woman except her. He was a generous man
who always left a few extra dollars on her dresser.
Sitting in front of the mirror she stared at her reflection. She couldn’t understand why she had intermittent episodes of sickly, whirling sensations in her stomach. Maybe she was overdoing it. In an endeavor to quickly pay Jake back the money he said she had cost him for letting her stay at The Black Stetson until she recovered, she was seeing men other than her regulars. Another month and I should have him paid off, then I’ll save for my future. She wanted to leave all of this behind by the time she turned eighteen. Maybe it was the sudden use of Ruby’s potion after such a long break.
Jake stalked into the room, his face as black as a thunder cloud. He never knocked when he knew she wasn’t with a man.
“She’s gone,” he snarled. “Sonofabitch, if I get hold of that little French whore I’ll break every bone in her body.” He stood, hands clamped on his hips, legs slightly apart, glaring down at her.
“Who?”
“Gizelle,” he growled.
“Serve you right, I warned you about….”
He slapped her across the face with the back of his hand. “Shut up.” He started undoing his pants and she knew what he expected. She stood, the room spun and her knees buckled.
He grabbed her before she hit the floor. “I didn’t hit you that hard.” He helped her over to the bed. “Lie down and I’ll get Ruby.”
It wasn’t the slap that had brought her to her knees but light headedness, and the rolling motion deep within her stomach.
Ruby glided into the room with Jake a pace or two behind.
“Now, don’t you dare get sick on me, Scarlett,” he growled. “You’ve just got back to work.”
“Maybe my system is still upset from the accident and hasn’t returned to normal.”
“Damn women, you’re more trouble than you’re worth.”
“You wouldn’t have a business without us,” Scarlett retorted. She had become more assertive since New Orleans, probably because she had nothing of value left to lose now Liam was gone.
She closed her eyes trying to relax as Ruby’s fingers pressed and prodded her stomach and breasts.
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