The Lady's Hand

by Bobbi Smith

  She lifted her gaze to his and smiled at him. It was a tender, serene smile that touched something deep within him, easing the anger that had held him. Suddenly, a part of him wanted her to look that happy always. They were moving together then, their bodies swaying in unison, ebbing and flowing with the music, lost in the beauty of being in each other's arms.

  Rafe discovered that she had, indeed, learned a lot from her lesson, and a surge of some strange emotion challenged him. He told himself it was ridiculous to feel this way. This was only a dance. She was just showing him how much the instructor had taught her. But he couldn't help feeling jealous that she had learned so much more from the other man.

  "You learned a lot today," he told her as he made a fancy move, and she kept up with him without missing a step.

  "Thanks to you. If you hadn't allowed Claire to hire Monsieur Hebert, I think you and I would have been practicing every night for hours to get this far."

  "Would that have been such torture?"

  Brandy looked up at him quickly, wondering at his tone, wondering at his question. His expression was curiously bland, though, so she assumed that he was only teasing. "The torture would have been yours. Heaven only knows what I would have done to your feet, stepping on you."

  "Heaven is right. It would have been heavenly duty teaching you all the intimacies of waltzing. I enjoyed our first lesson on board the Pride."

  "So did I," she said in a breathless voice. He didn't sound like a man who was marrying her strictly as a business proposition. He actually sounded as if he wanted to be with her, as if he wanted to dance with her. "Perhaps you wasted your money.... I enjoyed my lesson with him, but you certainly would have been my first choice for an instructor."

  The music stopped.

  Rafe stood looking down at her. "Don't worry. There are other things I'll teach you that we won't have to hire an instructor for."

  Her pulse quickened at his words, but they weren't given any time to say more, for Claire interrupted them.

  "Beautiful... just beautiful. You two dance marvelously together. No one could tell that you were even slightly unaccustomed to waltzing, Brandy." She turned to the dance instructor. "You did a fine job, Monsieur Hebert. I think we'll only need one more night of instruction before she's ready for her grand debut in society."

  "Tomorrow, then?" he asked as he motioned for the musicians to gather up their things and prepare to leave.

  "Tomorrow evening will be fine. We'll be expecting you.

  He took his leave with the musicians, and Claire turned to Brandy and Rafe.

  "Things are going very well. Brandy's a delightful companion and one of the quickest learners I've ever worked with."

  "Brandy is special."

  "To what do we owe the honor of this call?" Claire asked.

  Rafe quickly explained his arrangement with the Gibsons for Saturday night.

  "That will be perfect. It will be your trial run, so to speak," she told Brandy brightly. "Your wardrobe will be ready. You'll have completed your dance lessons, and well have another two days worth of etiquette lessons completed."

  "Good. How do you feel about this, Brandy?"

  "I'm looking forward to it."

  "After watching you tonight, I'm sure no one will question your dancing ability."

  "Thank you. I do enjoy it."

  Rafe prepared to leave. "I have meetings again all day tomorrow. But I'll stop by to see you in the evening, if that's all right with you?" he asked Claire.

  "That will be fine. We'll see you then."

  With that, he was gone.

  Once he'd disappeared down the steps and into the night, Brandy turned to find Claire standing behind her, smiling.

  "What are you smiling about?" she asked.

  "Your fiance, my dear. You are one lucky woman. Rafe Marchand is madly in love with you."

  "You really think so?" She was surprised by the conviction in Claire's voice. She knew their charade was working, but she was still surprised by Claire's conviction that he was "madly in love" with her.

  "Of course," she insisted. "Didn't you see the look in his eyes when he came into the room and saw you dancing with Monsieur Hebert?"

  "No, actually, I didn't even know he was there until the waltz had ended. I was too busy concentrating on the steps, and I didn't want to tread on Monsieur Hebert again."

  "Well, believe me when I tell you that Rafe was jealous. Once he realized that this was just your dance lessons, he relaxed a bit, but he wasn't at all happy when he came into the room and saw you in another man's arms."

  "I've never thought of Rafe as the jealous type."

  "I would start thinking that way," she advised her. "And what a wonderful thought... to have a man like him jealous of you."

  "Well, Rafe has no reason to be. He's the only man I plan to marry." A flicker of hope that he might come to care for her stirred in her breast, but she fought against it. Thinking like that would only make things worse.

  "The two of you are going to be very happy," Claire predicted.

  "I hope so." Brandy didn't have the heart to disillusion her. It was good that they were making everyone believe they were in love. It was good that strangers thought they were crazy about each other. Obviously, they were both better actors than they thought they were.

  "And the two of you are going to make such beautiful babies...." Claire sighed at the thought of their offspring.

  Her innocent words struck pain in Brandy's heart, yet somehow she managed to keep an outwardly calm expression.

  "Well, I think I'll go on to bed for now. What time do I have to be up in the morning?"

  "We don't have to go to the dress shop for your fitting until ten. So you can sleep later than usual."

  "Good. I need it."

  "Sweet dreams, Brandy. You're doing beautifully."

  Claire's praise fell on deaf ears. The pain in Brandy's heart was too great to allow her even to think about anything so trivial as etiquette and dance lessons.

  Rafe had made a bargain with her, and he was going to hold her to it no matter how much he acted as if he cared.

  It was after midnight, yet Brandy could not sleep. She hated to admit it, even to herself, but she was nervous. She paced her bedroom at Claire's house, alternately staring out the window at the darkened street below and praying fervently to be saved from the night to come.

  Brandy didn't want to do this. It was true, she'd had dreams of becoming a fancy lady when she was young, but that was all they'd been dreams. She'd never really thought she'd get to this point, never really thought the time would come when she would honestly be trying to fit in with the upper crust of society.

  She drew a strangled breath and went to dig through her valise. She knew she had them somewhere. She knew they were there. She'd made a point to pack them when she'd left the Pride. Brandy almost gave a cry of delight when she found them. Her hand closed over them and she smiled. Her security... They were there.... She hadn't left them behind.

  Brandy felt triumphant as she drew the deck of cards from her suitcase. She went to sit at the small table and began to play. Solitaire was a wonderful, mind-numbing game, and right now, she needed something to soothe her anxious soul. She didn't know how long she'd been playing when the knock came at her door.

  "Brandy? Are you all right?" Claire sounded concerned.

  Brandy opened the door to find the other woman standing there in her wrapper, looking very worried.

  "I hope I didn't disturb you..." Brandy began to apologize.

  "No, no. You weren't disturbing me. I just got up to get a drink of water and saw your light. I was worried that you were ill." She glanced past Brandy into the room and saw the cards strewn about the table. "You're playing cards?"

  "I couldn't sleep. I was too worried about tomorrow night."

  "You're going to be fine," Claire assured her.

  "How can you be so sure?" Brandy asked in frustration. "What if, after all our hard work, I make some awf
ul faux pas and ruin everything? I'd be so embarrassed and I doubt Rafe would ever forgive me.

  "You're not going to make any faux pas. You've worked too long and too hard to let a simple dinner party unnerve you. You're Brandy O'Neill, lady gambler. Where's your nerve? Where's your confidence?" Claire tried to buoy her spirits.

  "I' in not sure..."

  "What game were you playing?"

  "Just solitaire to pass the time."

  "Well, how about teaching me how to play poker? I've heard men talk about the game for years, but no one's ever offered to show me how to play."

  "You want to learn how to play poker?" Brandy was astonished. Claire was a lady of quality. Why would she want to play cards?

  "It sounds like fun.. .betting and bluffing and winning..." She was smiling.

  "But you don't always win."

  "Ah, but you always think you will, don't you? And that's all that matters. Come on. If you can't sleep, you may as well lose some money to me." Claire didn't wait to be invited in, but marched straight over to the table and picked up the cards. "Here. Deal. Now it's your turn to teach me a few things."

  An hour later, had they been playing for real money, Claire would have been much lighter in the pockets.

  "You're terrific at this! No wonder you were doing so well on the Pride," Claire declared as she lost yet another hand. "And you bluff so well."

  Brandy flashed her a winning smile. "Thanks. You're a wonderful loser, too."

  "That's my life," Claire chuckled. "I always lose. I'm used to it."

  "You should never get used to losing. There's always some way to win, if you just keep trying and work hard enough."

  "Think about what you just said to me. Are you really going to let a little thing like dinner with some of Rafe's business associates make you nervous?"

  Brandy's smile turned rueful. "I see your point."

  "Thank you."

  "Now, about you..."

  "What about me?" she asked, surprised.

  "Why are you so convinced that you can't win what you want?"

  "I never have," she said with a shrug. "After so many setbacks, you give up hoping."

  "You shouldn't."

  "But Brandy, sometimes losing hurts so much that it's better never to have wanted it in the first place. It's better to insulate yourself and protect yourself. Then you can never be hurt in any way."

  Brandy couldn't imagine what had hurt Claire so badly in the past, but she knew it must have been terrible. "We're going to have to work on you. If you can transform me, then I can certainly transform you.

  "What do you plan to change me into?" Claire asked. "An old-maid schoolteacher who can play cards?"

  "There have been worse things." Brandy laughed.

  "Like what?"

  "How about an old-maid schoolteacher who can't play cards?"

  The two women laughed easily together, sharing a mutual respect and camaraderie.

  Brandy's eyes narrowed as she studied Claire across the table. She had potential. It was just that she was so accustomed to the teacher role that she'd never thought about making herself more attractive. True, she was a bit old. Brandy thought she'd mentioned that she was twenty-nine, but that shouldn't discourage them in their hopes of snaring her a husband. Claire had told her that a lady should always look her best, no matter what her circumstances. She wondered, too, about her glasses, and whether she really needed to wear them all the time....

  "Didn't you tell me a few days ago when I was suffering through all those fittings that a lady should always present her best image, no matter what her circumstances?"

  "Well, yes. Why?"

  "Because you aren't following your own advice."

  "What are you talking about?"

  "Look at the way you dress."

  "What about it?" Claire stared at her, puzzled. She thought she dressed perfectly for her job.

  "You look like a schoolmarm."

  "That's what I am," she said in exasperation.

  "But is that what you want to be? Did you always want to be a teacher?"

  Claire was startled by Brandy's insight. No one else in all these years had ever asked her what she really wanted out of life. No one else had cared, and after a while, she'd almost stopped caring, too. She'd concentrated only on what was safe.

  "I never wanted to be a teacher," she said softly, her vulnerability revealed.

  Brandy couldn't believe that Claire was opening up to her. "What did you want to do when you were just out of the academy?"

  "I wanted to marry and have children. But the man I wanted..."

  Brandy sensed this was the story that had altered her life. "What about him?"

  "The man I fancied myself in love with didn't love me. He married someone else.. .one of my closest friends."

  "He just ditched you and married your friend?" Brandy was outraged.

  Claire smiled, thinking this was the first time any one had defended her. It almost brought tears to her eyes, to think that Brandy actually cared enough about her to be angry for her.

  "You are so sweet," she said, smiling at her tenderly. "But no...he never knew that I loved him, and I never told my friend. They were perfect for each other. I was happy for them. I really was."

  "You're a saint," Brandy muttered, hearing the painful truth in her words.

  "There's nothing saintly about me. She was beautiful, inside and out. Everyone loved her. Even I loved her. I was glad they were together."

  "You're a much kinder person than I would have been."

  "But there's no point in wanting what you can't have."

  "Who says you can't have it? Just because that one didn't work out, surely there's been someone else you've cared about since then."

  "Actually, there hasn't been," Claire answered simply. "And to tell you the truth, he didn't even know how I felt at the time. Not that it would have mattered."

  "Well, we're just going to have to make a few changes in you, just like you're working on changing me.

  Claire smiled at Brandy's enthusiasm. "I'm a few years older than you are."

  Brandy made a dismissive noise. "Who cares? There's more than one man out there who would love to have a woman of your culture and breeding by his side."

  Claire laughed out loud. "I wish you luck."

  "Luck will have nothing to do with this. You're an intelligent, lovely woman. We're just going to let everyone know it. Not to mention the fact that once I'm through with you, you're going to play a mean hand of poker."

  They laughed again in delight with each other, pleased with their growing friendship.

  "Tomorrow morning, first thing, we're going to start transforming you. That'll help keep my mind off that dinner party tomorrow night," Brandy told Claire.

  "Why am I more nervous now than you were earlier?"

  "Don't be nervous," Brandy said with a grin. "Just trust me."

  And for some reason, Claire did.

  The following morning, they ate a late breakfast together.

  "Are you willing to put yourself completely in my hands?" Brandy asked her as they finished eating.

  Claire looked up at her. "Yes."

  "You don't sound very convinced."

  "Maybe because I'm afraid. What you're asking of me..."

  "Is the same thing you're asking of me, and I haven't balked yet, have I?"

  "Good point," Claire agreed. "All right. I'm as brave as you are. What are you planning to do to me? I already bought that dress the other day. What more do we need to do?"

  Brandy looked thoughtful. "I've been thinking about it all night, and I have a few ideas. We need to start with your hair."

  "My hair?" Claire put a hand protectively to her bun.

  "Wearing it that way makes you look so-so old. You're a pretty woman. There's no reason to wear your hair pinned back like that. Let's go upstairs and see what we can do with it."

  Claire sat there for a moment staring at Brandy. She told herself that this was what she'd b
een wanting-some adventure in her life, some excitement. Well, it didn't get much more exciting than changing her whole look. She was going to Natchez. She was going to be seeing Marc regularly. Things couldn't be any worse for her than they had been. At the very least that could happen, she'd have a new hairstyle and a new wardrobe.

  "All right. Let's do it."

  An hour later Claire sat before the mirror at her own dressing table staring at her reflection. She blinked several times, for she almost didn't recognize herself.

  "Oh, my..." she breathed, enchanted by her mirror image. "I look so..."

  "Pretty?"

  "Well, yes... and different."

  Claire kept gazing at the woman who was staring back at her. Her hair had been washed and brushed out and styled into a tangle of soft curls, then pulled up away from her face so the heavy mass could tumble down her back. The style took years off her.

  "Do you like it?" Brandy asked, rather proud of her handiwork. She'd gotten good at styling her own hair when she worked on the steamer, and she'd enjoyed working with Claire's thick, heavy tresses.

  "Yes. Yes, I do," Claire answered firmly.

  "Good. Now, about your glasses...."

  "What about them?"

  "Do you really need them?"

  "I'm afraid so," she said softly, having always been self-conscious about wearing them. "I can't see well at a distance."

  "Ah, but when you're in a social setting, all you really need to see is who's sitting next to you, right?"

  "Well, I guess so..."

  Brandy carefully took the spectacles off Claire, then studied her thoughtfully. "You really have beautiful eyes. It seems a shame to hide them that way. From now on, only wear the glasses when you absolutely have to."

  "If you say so," she agreed, grinning at her "teacher."

  "That's what I like-a cooperative pupil. Now, do you have any great objections to trying a little makeup?"

  "I've never worn any before." She looked a little scandalized at the thought.

  "Then it's time to try it. We'll be careful how much we use. We'll apply it very lightly and see how it looks. All right?"

  "I'll try anything once," Claire declared.

  They shared a look of daring as they began to experiment.

  "There ...Now, all you need are a few new dresses to complement your new look, and we'll be ready."