I shook my head, not wanting to remember that part. “Thank you,” I said quietly.
“I told you to trust me.”
“But what about now? He’ll be on guard against everything.”
“I’m working on that. At least he left this morning.”
“Where does he go?” I asked, wondering how much of what he told Teeny was true, remembering how he’d been in our room without us knowing.
“Back to Atlanta.” Roland’s jaw clenched. “But it won’t be for long.”
His voice was grim, and I fell silent. At last we arrived at the back door, where I noticed several dents in the exterior. The small window on the side was smashed.
“What happened here?”
“Beau was determined to get in last night.”
My stomach dropped, and I couldn’t walk anymore. Conflicted emotions overwhelmed me. I remembered the banging, his voice calling for me, his bandaged hands. What happened in his bed was troubling, but I couldn’t deny my feelings. I still loved him.
Roland glanced at me and smiled. “You two,” he said, throwing an arm across my shoulders and pulling me into a hug. “You really are too much.”
I shook my head and pushed back. “I’ve got to keep him from this. Somehow we have to figure out a way to prevent him from getting involved. He’ll only be hurt by it.”
“We can try, but that’ll be easier said than done.”
* * *
Walking down the corridor, I couldn’t stop turning over one memory from last night—Guy had gotten into our dressing room without our knowledge, and he could do it again. We weren’t safe anywhere. I turned the corner and my heart jumped when I saw Gavin standing there.
“Can you perform tonight?” he asked. “It’s only for a few hours.”
I nodded as I reached for the handle, but he stopped me. “That’s not really why I’m here. I wanted to say I’m sorry. I said I’d do what I could to protect you, and I failed.”
“What about Teeny?”
He shrugged. “I still don’t see why she’s so important.”
“Thank you,” I interrupted, anger flaring at his words. “For what you did. The laudanum.”
“I don’t know what you mean.” He feigned ignorance as he turned to leave. I didn’t pursue it and continued inside.
I bolted the door as I removed the cloak, then my dressing gown. I frowned at the blood stains on my chemise. I’d forgotten I might bleed. Not all women did after their first time from what I understood, but I had. My pitcher held water that I poured into a small basin to clean myself. Then I soaked the thin white garment in it. As I worked, I replayed what happened. The beginning had been wonderful, tender, and amazing. I softened a bit at the memory. But the most important part, when our bodies came together, had been heartbreaking. It was as if he’d forgotten about me, left me behind.
Lost in thought, I patted my body dry and slipped into a clean, brown skirt and white blouse. I’d have to spend more time considering my feelings, but first I had to secure that bit of insurance.
Back in the passage, I made my way down to Rosa’s room and found Teeny with my old caregiver playing cards. One look and she flew to me.
“Hale! Oh, Hale!” She clutched me, and I hugged her, kissed her head. I felt her tremble as I rubbed her back.
“It’s okay,” I said, holding her. “It’s going to be okay.”
Rosa didn’t move. She simply stared at me, holding her cards.
“Well?” she said.
I walked to her shelves and replaced the absinthe spoon, then I began searching. She watched me for a moment before putting her cards down and crossing the room, grasping my arm and pulling me back.
“What are you doing?”
“I need it,” I said. “You have to give it to me.”
She frowned, but her voice was hesitant. “What do you mean?”
“I know you’ve got the oil,” I said. “I’ve watched you taking it long enough to know.”
She stared, but she didn’t speak.
Teeny frowned as she watched us. “Oil?” she asked. I glanced at her and then crossed to her, took her hand, and led her to the door.
“Go back to our room,” I said. “It’s safe now, and I’ll explain later.” Or never.
“Explain what?”
“Just do what I said. Please.” I gently pushed her into the hallway and closed the door. Then I turned back to Rosa, and for several seconds we were silent, appraising each other.
“Why do you want it?” She asked.
I started to breathe again. I’d guessed right. She did have it.
“For him,” I said, looking straight into her brown eyes.
Rosa pushed out her lips, shaking her head. “It won’t work.”
She turned and went back to her window. For a moment I was speechless, but I quickly rallied. I couldn’t fail, not when I was this close.
“It has to work,” I said.
“He won’t take it.”
“How do you know?”
“When I was young, when your mother was still alive, sometimes after the shows we’d all get together to release the tension of the day.”
I tried to imagine that. “My mother took absinthe?”
“She and Guy were the only ones who wouldn’t.”
“Gavin took it?” I asked.
“Gavin wasn’t with us.”
I watched as she filled a kettle and set it on the hot plate, and I remembered Guy’s words to Roland about liking a ménage. A wave of nausea passed over me.
“You and my mother were with him,” I whispered. “With Guy?”
“Your father was also there. Truth be told, he started me on it, but I’d have done anything he said.”
I frowned. “My father?” So many times I’d wanted to know him, know who he was. And this was what I discovered. “Was he an addict?”
“Not when I knew him. He was a musician, an artist. He was fantastic.”
She smiled at some memory, but I shook my head. I didn’t have time for this, or for the excuses they all made for their habit. The mind-opening properties of the milky white liquid that made them all crazy. All for their art.
“It’s my last chance,” I said. “I have to try.”
She looked at me a long moment and then she spoke. “So now you want to kill him.”
Her tone stopped me. “I’m not sure I understand you.”
“I’m simply saying, you asked for this. You volunteered yourself, and now you want him dead.”
“What he does is wrong.”
She fixed her eyes on me. “And what exactly has he done that’s so wrong?”
I couldn’t believe her words. “He wanted Teeny! She’s just a child, and he wanted her.”
She stood and walked to her small window. “From where I stood, it looked like she was the one wanting him.”
I watched as she raised the glass and reached outside, pulling in a small pot that held a green fern.
“She wanted a kiss. Not that.”
Rosa shrugged. “How should he know the difference? She’s a pretty young thing, living in this place, making eyes at him.”
“So you’re saying she deserves it?” I could feel the rage growing inside me again. That anger I hadn’t known I possessed until the night Teeny returned man-handled.
“I’m saying what has he done that’s worthy of death?”
“He’s a predator, and I can’t believe I’m hearing these words from you.”
She looked down and her face softened. “He wasn’t always like that. It’s just now, with the diseases and everything—”
“Give me the oil.” I cut her off, disgusted by her words.
“It won’t work, I told you.” Then she placed the pot on the table in front of me, plucked a sprig and held it out. “But he likes parsley.”
I stared at the green plant. “I don’t understand.”
“Hemlock works quickly and is easily mistaken for something else. It was all a terrible
accident. If anyone asks.”
My eyes widened. “I could try…”
But she shook her head. “No. Too risky.” She picked up the pot again and returned to the window, putting it back outside. “He might offer you some or demand you eat it first.” Her nose wrinkled. “Nasty way to die.”
I couldn’t move as she closed the window again and walked to her armoire. I was confused by the sudden shifts in her position. Was she helping me now? Was she on my side again? Or was she on his?
I watched her open the armoire doors and reach back on the top shelf, taking down a small box and digging through it. She lifted a tiny glass vial from under several envelopes and held it up, examining the white powder inside.
“Strychnine.” She stepped toward me and held out the tiny glass cylinder.
I took it from her, turning it in my fingers.
“Put it in his drink, in his food, in everything. But don’t touch it, don’t touch anything. Or let him kiss your mouth.”
“When?” I whispered. “How long does it take?”
She shook her head and snatched it back. “I’ll do it. But remember, don’t touch anything. Don’t eat or drink.”
I nodded. “You think it’ll work?”
She shrugged. “I give it half a chance. He might not be hungry. After last night, he might be suspicious of everything.”
I stared at the small vial. “We have to try.”
* * *
I left Rosa’s room, and as I walked back down the passage, I tried not to think of the horror coming, of Rosa’s defense of Guy, and of my new doubts about her. It all flew out of my head when I looked up and saw Beau standing outside my door. His arms were crossed, but when our eyes met, he walked fast to me and swept me into them.
“I came as fast as I could,” he said, dropping his face into my neck. “Oh, god. Hale, why didn’t you tell me?”
He released me and stepped back, eyes full of concern. Then he cupped my cheeks in his hands, kissed me lightly, and hugged me again. I assumed Roland had explained what was happening, but I’d asked him not to…
“Tell you what?”
He glanced up and down the empty passage than gazed directly into my eyes. “It was your first time. You were a virgin.”
“Oh!” My head was still spinning from before, and now my emotions were further conflicted. Embarrassment or anger—I wasn’t sure how I felt toward him or what I wanted him to say. Regardless, we couldn’t say it out here.
I quickly opened the door and pulled him inside. Teeny was sitting on the bed, but when she saw my face, she seemed to understand. We waited as she collected her drawing things and pushed past us.
“I’m going to find Evie,” she said, closing the door behind her.
Beau took my hand and led me across the small space. He sat in front of me on the bed and pulled me to him, wrapping his arms around my waist. “Will you ever forgive me?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said, pushing his arms down. Tears were in my eyes, so I turned away.
“I saw the blood on my sheets when you left. It’s why you were so distant, why you wouldn’t meet my eyes.”
“Maybe it was the start of my monthly cycle.”
“But it wasn’t.” He caught my arm and turned me back. “There were no rags. I’d have seen them. You might remember waking up with me.”
The one bright spot. “I remember.”
He stood and walked to the door, pushing his hands through his hair. “If only I’d known. You must hate me now.”
“You just assumed I wasn’t?”
“It’s a brothel, Hale. And Minette said all the girls were experienced.”
Her name was like cold water in my face. “I didn’t know you and Minette had gotten so close.”
He looked as though he would swallow the words back down if he could. I wanted to throw him into the hallway.
“It was a while ago,” he said. “Back when I first came here. Not anymore.”
“Since when?”
“Since you, of course.”
I stood and walked to my dressing table, anger joining the hurt pressing inside me. Minette of all people. But of course it was her. I remembered her overt pursuit of him, our encounter in the hall. Still I was annoyed he’d been tempted by her flirtations.
He crossed the room, and I could feel the heat of him right behind me. But he hesitated to touch me. “It wasn’t like that. She introduced me to the others when I first arrived, and she was friendly, that’s all.”
Our eyes met in the mirror. “Does she like being handled roughly?”
He cringed and looked down. “I’m so sorry, Hale. You must know I’d never intentionally hurt you.”
I stepped away. “And from whom did you think I’d gotten all my experience?”
“Well… you and Roland are always so close. I assumed—”
A short knock preceded Rosa entering the room. Her eyes moved over the two of us, and she muttered something before stepping back out into the passage. It was time to dress for the show, but Beau wasn’t leaving.
“Please say you forgive me.” His voice was soft as he reached for my arm. I wanted to cry, I wanted to forgive him, but something in me was still angry. All of it together was too much.
“I have to think about it.”
I went to the closet, but he stood watching me with a frustrated expression. Rosa knocked again.
“We’ll talk more,” he said. “Just don’t think anything wrong. You know me, Hale. My feelings haven’t changed.”
Emotions warred in my chest as he left. At least it all made sense now. At least I knew he was sorry. But I was furious he’d been with Minette. Or was I jealous? I sighed deeply, rubbing my forehead. I did know how Beau felt about me, and I believed him. I believed their encounters had been back when he’d saved me, when he’d been declared a hero. I closed my eyes and remembered that first night he held his hand out to me. All of my energies had been focused on Freddie, and I’d done everything I could to disregard Beau and push him away. Was it fair to be angry with him?
I pulled on my blood-red corset and stepped over for Rosa to begin tightening the laces. As I sucked in, our eyes caught in the mirror, her expression was serious. My other commitment still hung over me. Was there even time for jealousy when this dark thing lurked in my future, clouding all my decisions?
In truth, I just wanted Beau to hold me. I wanted to hide in his arms, in the sense of safety he always gave me. He wanted to protect me, and though I couldn’t pull him into a murder plot, I could at least seek comfort from him.
I made my way through the backstage corridor sick with apprehension over what was coming, my shaky plan that was so dependent on luck and me getting the upper hand. I had to be strong enough to see it through, and whatever happened, I had to keep Beau far away from it.
Chapter 17
Beau wasn’t waiting for me on the catwalk that night. Instead, one of the newer hands Jeffrey was.
“Don’t worry, Miss,” he smiled. “I’ve got the rope. I won’t let you fall.”
I glanced around quickly. “But where’s—”
“Said he had an errand to run.” Jeffery shrugged then he chuckled. “But he promised to kill me if I let you get hurt.”
I nodded and tried to smile, tried not to remember plunging to the stage below. “Thanks,” I said as the music started, and I took my seat.
I looked back out of habit as I swung out over the audience, and for a moment, not seeing Beau there made my stomach clench in fear. But I sang through it as I slowly descended, the spotlight reflecting sparkles whenever I moved.
After my performance, I walked slowly back to my dressing room and opened the door to dozens of red roses. I froze, thinking Freddie had returned early, and rushed back out into the passage. Beau caught me by the waist instead.
“You always seemed to like the roses he brought you,” he said, kissing me quickly. “I wanted to do something special, to remind you how I fee
l. That I love you.”
Warmth flooded my veins. I couldn’t believe it. There were more roses than Freddie had ever given me. “How could you afford all these?”
“I have connections. Like them?”
“Yes,” I nodded, amazed. “But… I mean no.”
He slowly released me. “You’re still angry?”
I looked around the room, and my mind said to keep him away, to make distance. It seemed like the best way.
“I’m not angry,” I said. He smiled and stepped forward, but I stopped him. “But you talk about taking care of us and how you wasted your money. These things, ridiculous extravagances like these, are what make it impossible for us to be together.”
His jaw tightened before he dropped his arms and walked past me into my dressing room, excitement gone. Seeing how my words hurt him filled me with guilt, but I focused on my reasons.
“One rose or even a bunch of irises would’ve cost little and had the same effect.”
“I didn’t spend a dime on these roses,” he said. “I’m friends with the bellhop at the Hotel Monteleone. They throw out their lobby roses every night, and I asked him if I could have them.”
“Oh.” I looked down at the bloom in my hand then I lifted it to my nose and sniffed its delicate perfume as I slowly entered behind him. “I didn’t know.”
“Never mind.” He slipped a small box out of his coat pocket and put it in my hands. “I did spend money on that. So if you have more to say, well, I hope it ends in a yes.”
I couldn’t say a word.
The box was black velvet, and I knew what was inside. I turned it around in my hands, thoughts of our recent quarrel, what was coming, creating distance, staying here, leaving, protecting Teeny, all jammed together in my mind.
“I can’t open this,” I whispered, handing it back to him.
He blocked me with his bandaged hand. “Let me protect you always. Be my wife.”
He opened the lid and removed the tiny gold band. Then he slid it onto my finger. I started to pull back, but Rosa appeared.
“Time to change,” she said, pushing through us.
He moved into the doorway to let her pass. “Come home with me. I don’t like you being here anymore. Take this and leave with me. Tonight.”
Rouge (#1 in the Cheveux Roux series) Page 17