He shook his head. “No, ma’am.”
She smiled. “Then we just have to hope it’s going to turn out well.”
“Mr. Fournet is not going to like this at all,” he said, gazing at her worriedly.
With a shrug she begin to walk toward the door. “Mr. Fournet should have been here. At the very least, he should have told me about this months ago. Damn him!” She gasped. “I apologize. I don’t usually swear.”
Laughing nervously he followed her. “I know. But that tells me you’re pretty scared.”
She nodded. “Very.”
Outside the voices grew louder. She glanced at Henry, the gray of his hair shimmering in the dim light. Taking a deep breath she realized he would be of little help to her if things became ugly.
Outside the voices were chanting, “Give us a raise!”
“I guess it’s time,” she said, her voice shaking, her knees knocking.
“Yes, ma’am,” he said, his eyes compassionate. “They’ll be surprised to see you. You can settle this.”
He pulled open the front door, stepping tentatively out onto the concrete stairs that led into the building. A hundred or more men filled the street, some carrying torches, some holding signs, and others just shouting.
She stood on the stairs waiting for them to give her a chance to speak, wondering if they would or if this was a pointless exercise.
Finally, a man approached her, his face red with anger as he glared at her. For a moment she didn’t think she could face him as the men cheered him on. She swallowed and took a deep breath. If she ran, they would probably destroy the building. She had to stay.
“We’ve come to tell you that we’re on strike until our demands are met!”
“I understand that you’re upset,” she said nodding her head. “Did you recently speak with Mr. Fournet about your requests?”
“Yes ma’am,” he said with disgust. “It was a waste of my time.”
“What did he tell you?”
“He said that there was no way that the company could meet our requests for a ten-cents-an-hour raise. He did concede us holidays off.”
Marian frowned, thinking that after so many years without a pay increase, their demands didn’t seem unreasonable, yet it would increase the company’s costs. “Your name, sir?”
“Richard Vanderhom, ma’am.”
She nodded her head and glanced at the crowd, noticing they seemed to have grown quieter as they watched her. Yet their expressions were not friendly and if she didn’t offer them something, maybe they would tear her limb from limb and bum the building. And how could she blame them after what Henry had told her?
“Mr. Fournet is right in telling you that the company could not afford to give you a ten-cents-an-hour increase in pay. But I am willing to raise the cost of our shipments, which will in turn give us the money to give you a five- cents-an-hour increase. Plus, I’m willing to give you holidays and Sundays off.”
The man stared at her for a moment in shocked surprise, and then quickly recovered and asked, “You can’t give us ten cents more an hour?”
“Not without raising our costs higher than the other companies in the area. If we do that we threaten the very existence of Cuvier Shipping.”
He scratched his head, thinking over her response.
“Of course, that’s with the condition that your workers return and finish loading the boats today. After all, I know we had several cargos due to go out this evening.”
“If we accept your conditions, will we get another pay raise anytime soon?”
“I’ve been told about what’s happened in the past and I promise you I will do my best to make sure that you’re given regular pay increases. I will meet with you and two of your co-workers to determine a fair way to give increases in the future,” she said meeting the man’s intense gaze, refusing to show weakness.
He rubbed his chin and nodded his head. “Seems fair. How do I know you won’t change your mind?”
“Will a handshake suffice for our agreement or do you want it in writing?” she asked raising her chin.
“I think a handshake will do,” he said.
They shook hands and the crowd grew silent. Marian breathed a sigh of relief. “Now Mr. Vanderhom, I expect you to disperse this crowd and somehow get them back to work.”
He grinned. “Your business is what feeds their families, but the time for a pay raise had long since passed.”
Marian nodded her head. “I agree.”
She watched the man hurry down the steps and begin speaking to the crowd. Her knees felt so weak she feared she would collapse. She turned and went back into the building where she found the closest chair and sank into it.
Louis had conveniently forgotten to tell her about the strike. They could have lost everything and then what would she have done? She started to shiver uncontrollably.
***
Louis drove his carriage recklessly toward the docks, so afraid of what he would find. While at the attorney’s office regarding the sale of Cuvier Shipping, he’d been told the dockworkers were marching on the company.
The image of Marian’s face appeared before him and he urged the horses faster. The workers would tear her apart if they got their hands on her and it would all be his fault. He had hoped to sell the business before the labor problems became an issue. Now all he wanted was to get Marian to safety.
His heart pounded in his chest and he took the whip to the horses urging them faster. Panic rode him hard as the carriage sped around a comer and rocked, almost tipping over. Louis didn’t even flinch as he focused on reaching his partner.
There were no crowds, no shouting angry men as he pulled the horse to a halt in front of Cuvier Shipping. An eerie quiet surrounded the building.
Louis jumped out of his carriage, tethered his horse and then took the stairs two at a time. Fear sent him running in the front door, glancing around wildly for Marian.
She stepped out into the hall and glanced up staring directly into his eyes. Fury darkened her eyes and sparked their smoky depths.
“The crisis with the dockworkers is over, Louis,” she said. “But you have a much larger fiasco on your hands right at this moment”
He hurried down the hall and took her by the arm. He pulled her into her office and into his arms. She stiffened. “Thank God, you’re safe. Are you all right? I hurried over as soon as I heard. I was so worried. What happened?”
She pulled out of his arms and glared at him. “Tell me Louis, did you know the workers were about to go on strike? Is this one of those details that you forgot to tell me? Another one of those business decisions that both partners need not know about?”
He threw up his hands in the air, his words spilling out in a rush. “Marian, I never thought it would go this far. I didn’t believe they would strike.”
“Have you forgotten to tell me anything else, Louis? I need to know, because I promise you I won’t be so understanding next time.” She placed both hands on her hips, her voice shaking with fury. “I could have been killed by those men today.”
“I know. I’m sorry, Marian. I should have told you, but I didn’t believe they would really go on strike. You were new to the company and I didn’t want to worry you.” She turned to face the window and stood looking out the glass. He walked over and put his hands on her shoulders.
“How can I trust you, when I keep finding you’ve not told me what’s going on?” she said, her voice shaking with anger.
“You’re right. You have every right to be angry with me. Believe me, Marian, I’ve never been that frightened for anyone before.” He squeezed her shoulders and then whirled her around to face him. “I hurried as fast as I could to get here. Thank God, you’re all right!” She gazed up at him, her gray eyes searching his and then she sighed and leaned her head against his chest. “Call me a fool, but somehow I believe you. I think this time it really was unintentional.”
He smoothed his hand over her hair, loving the feel of the silk
en strands beneath his hand. “God, I’ve never been so afraid.”
“They wanted to burn the place down. I didn’t know what to do,” she said with a weary sigh.
She shivered in his arms and he tightened his hold on her. Remorse filled him as he realized he’d left her here to face that angry mob all alone. “Why didn’t you leave?”
“I wanted to, but I couldn’t.” She sighed. “Someone had to stay and try to stop them. With you gone, it could only be me.”
He was the biggest damn fool. He’d risked her life because of his stupid sense of pride and wanting to own his own business. When would he put an end to this constant struggle to achieve this goal?
“How did you stop them?” he asked trying to keep her in his arms. She felt so good, so right in his embrace.
“I gave in to their demands, but not to everything that they wanted. I gave them only a five-cent-an-hour raise, with holidays and Sundays off. I also agreed to meet with them regarding creating a pay increase schedule.”
“How can we afford that?” he asked.
“We’ll have to increase our shipping rates,” she said. “I know it’s not the best solution, but given the time, it was all I could do.”
He put his finger beneath her chin and tilted her head up to gaze deeply into her gray eyes. “I don’t care. I’m just glad you’re safe. I wouldn’t have cared if you gave them Cuvier Shipping.”
His lips covered hers in a fierce and demanding kiss, fed by fear and hunger. He’d come close to losing her and somehow until that moment he hadn’t realized just how much she’d come to mean to him.
Until this afternoon, Marian had been an interesting woman who intrigued him and now he realized just how much he needed her. How much he desired her.
She leaned into his kiss, responding with the press of her body against his hardness, gripping his shoulders like a vine clinging to life. She moaned in the back of her throat, the sound heady and thrilling, as he gripped her buttocks through her skirts, pulling her even closer to him.
The sound of someone clearing his throat as he walked past her office had them jumping apart.
They looked at one another, their expressions locked in a stunned gaze. The kiss they’d just shared left Louis reeling.
Their one night of passion, he feared, could possibly be made of the stuff that lifetimes were created from. And suddenly he realized he was in more trouble than even he knew how to elude.
***
Two days later, Marian sat beside Renee, reading a book with her daughter when her servant, Edward, walked in the room. She glanced up.
“Yes?”
“A Layla DuChampe is here to see you,” he said.
A tremor of fear swept through her. What did the woman accused of Jean’s murder want with her? While she didn’t know if the young woman had actually killed Jean, she didn’t want her visiting them at home.
“Renee, Momma has to see someone. Why don’t you run upstairs and play with your dolls for a while?”
The girl frowned. “Why can’t I stay?”
“Because this is grown-up talk. Now go on upstairs and we’ll finish reading later.”
“All right,” she said, her face drawn in a pout. The little girl trudged up the stairs, expressing her dislike by stomping on every step.
Marian stepped into the entry hall where Edward had left Layla standing. Most of their guests he would have shown into the parlor, but obviously he knew of Miss DuChampe and had left her standing in the hall.
“Miss DuChampe,” Marian said, her voice coolly receptive.
The young woman stood there looking nervous, with a canvas bag in her hand. Marian recognized the worn sailor’s bag as Jean’s.
“I’m sorry for coming without sending you notice, but I feared you wouldn’t see me.”
“Yes, I understand,” Marian said, not denying that she would have refused to see the woman. There was no reason to see her again and, though she felt sorry for the young woman, she wanted nothing more to do with her. Just as she wanted nothing more to do with Nicole.
She held up the bag. “I’ve brought you some of Jean’s things that I thought you might want back. Or at least his children might someday want. I had my servant send them from Baton Rouge.”
Marian took the bag out the girl’s hand, a feeling of gratitude at her thoughtfulness making her uneasy. She didn’t want to feel a sense of obligation toward the girl. Layla had slept with Marian’s husband. A husband who hadn’t wanted his own wife. “Thank you.”
Marian knew she was being rude though somehow she couldn’t seem to help herself.
“Could we sit and talk for a moment?” Layla asked. “I know you don’t want to have anything to do with me. But this may be my only chance to explain my side of things to you,” Layla said, her voice strong and sure.
Marian frowned. “I’m not sure I want to know your side. I’m trying to put the past behind me. Jean is dead and I’m ready to move on with my life.”
“At least you have your life. Mine could end very soon, so I’d like to at least attempt to tell you what happened,” Layla said, her voice insistent as she stepped toward Marian.
Marian felt a chill go through her at the girl’s solemn acceptance of her likely fate.
“Let’s go into the parlor where we can talk privately. I’m trying to protect my children as much as possible from hearing the details of their father’s deceit. Already, my son has been involved in fights at school and I just hope this all ends very soon.”
“I understand,” Layla said, and followed Marian into the parlor.
Marian shut the door behind them, pointed to the loveseat and then took a seat across from the girl in the wingback chair. Normally, she would have offered her guest something to drink, but she wanted Layla to leave as quickly as possible.
They sat there awkwardly, staring at one another. Layla glanced around the room, her hands folded in her lap shook slightly. She turned her gaze to Marian. “You have a nice home.”
“Thank you.”
Layla sighed. “I want you to know I did not kill Jean. I could never deliberately harm another person. I couldn't do it.” She took a deep breath. “Also, I didn’t know that he was married. I never loved him and didn’t want to marry him.”
“Then why did you?” Marian asked leaning forward, the girl’s comments angering her. Why did she still feel anger, when she herself had not loved Jean for years?
Jean’s betrayal was more about Marian’s pride than love, she suddenly realized. By ignoring her as his wife, she felt less valued and that had hurt. Then, finding out he had married two other women magnified the pain of his disregard.
“My father arranged my marriage to him. It seemed that Cuvier Shipping had taken away all of my father’s business, causing him to go bankrupt. Jean acquired Father’s company with the agreement that he would marry me.”
“But if your father knew Jean, surely he realized Jean was already married. Granted I didn’t go out much, but I would have thought people would know of Jean’s wife and children.”
Layla shifted uncomfortably on the couch. “My father asked and Jean told him that you died of yellow fever and that the children moved to Virginia to be with your family.”
“What a liar!” Marian said. “And your father believed him? What if you and Jean had run into someone we both knew?”
“Normally, Jean never let me travel with him or leave the city, except for this trip, which I don't understand.” She paused reflecting for a moment, then shook her head as if to clear it. “My father died several months ago, so he never learned of Jean’s lies.”
Silence filled the room as Marian contemplated this new bit of information regarding her former husband. “You know, the sad thing is that he ruined so many lives around him with his lying ways.”
Layla nodded. “I know it looks very bad for me. Many people believe I killed him. I hated him and never wanted to marry him.” She lifted her chin. “No matter what, I would never have harm
ed him.”
“But who could have killed him?” Marian asked. “Someone did.”
“I wish I knew. He was poisoned. Someone had to have done it in the night.”
“But didn’t you give him the laudanum? Isn’t that why they suspect you?” Marian asked.
Layla glanced down. “Yes. I often put laudanum in his nightly drink to avoid being . .. intimate with him.” She looked at Marian and shivered. “I’m sorry, maybe you enjoyed being with him, but I despised the act. I couldn’t stand him touching me any longer.”
“I would never describe Jean as a kind or patient lover.”
Layla shivered with revulsion. “I never want to have a man touch me again.”
Marian wanted to tell the young woman that not all lovers were like Jean, but decided to keep that piece of information to herself. Layla’s feelings were reminiscent of her own emotions regarding Jean. Yet the woman’s words again confirmed her beliefs that the problem was with Jean and not with herself. She hoped someday Layla would learn this lesson.
“Layla, just remember that every man is not like Jean. I know it’s hard to realize that at this time, but there are a lot of good men in the world who would never treat a woman the way we’ve been treated.”
She shook her head, her expression bleak. “It won’t matter. I’ll never get the chance to find out about them. If I’m convicted, I will receive the death penalty and I'll hang.”
Silence filled the room as Marian gazed at the young girl, sympathy swelling within her. “I’m going to hope that somehow the real killer is found and you are released.”
“I hope so. Right now I’m not holding out any hope. It’s so much easier for the papers to condemn me, than to think that someone else could have done this.”
***
Marian shut the door behind Layla, her heart swelling with sympathy for the young woman. She seemed so resigned to her fate and that troubled Marian more than anything. How could she just accept the fact she was going to die, if she were innocent?
And if she didn’t kill Jean, then who did?
Wronged (The Cuvier Widows Book 1) Page 22