“I love what you’ve done with the place,” Esa stated over a plate of delectable smelling crab crepes. “Nana Keats would be proud.” She took a bite and gave a satisfied moan. “My regards to the cook! This is absolutely divine.”
Larisa elbowed her husband of ten years. “Thanks, wish I could take credit for the meal honey; you know I’ve never been able to cook a can of soup without scorching the pot.” They chuckled.
“I still say that’s the only reason she married me.” Rick laughed as his wife’s elbow met with his ribs once again. The handsome couple looked as happy as they had on their wedding day.
“That and the fact that you’re pretty good with transforming old rundown bird houses. Not to mention that ever thriving green thumb!”
“Have you taken up a new hobby, Rick?” Esa asked, taking another bite and dotting the corners of her mouth with the lacey napkin. Jacque sat beside her, his focus fixed on his plate. Every now and again, she’d hear a delightful moan come from his direction.
Rick laughed. “Nah, I’ll try my hand at anything in need of fixin’.”
“Yep, that’s my handyman.” Larisa beamed as she tweaked his cheek. “When we’ve finished, we’ll go out back and you can see what he did with the old pigeonier. You’re not going to believe the difference.”
“Really? I’d love to see it. Taking care of pigeons must keep you very busy.”
“Oh-ha!” Larisa cackled. “No, no darling. It’s no longer fit for pigeons. It just sets there and looks pretty.” She flashed a radiant smile that could cause the sun to reach for a pair of shades.
“This house has been in your family for how long?” Jacque, having cleaned his plate to a sparkling finish, decided to join the conversation.
Larisa shrugged and replied in unison with Esa, “Since it was built.”
The women exchanged knowing glances and chuckled. Larisa added, “1762, to be exact. They sure don’t make ‘em like this anymore, that’s for sure.”
“You can say that again,” Esa agreed, glancing sideways at Jacque. “They don’t make a lot of things like they used to.” She winked and he returned the gesture and gave her hand a squeeze beneath the table.
“Did your family build the house?” he asked.
“Uh-huh,” Larisa mumbled and settled her napkin in her plate before rising from her seat. “Excuse me for just a moment, I’ll be right back.”
Rick pushed a fallen strand of hair off his forehead and rolled his eyes, and stated under his breath with a hint of humor, “Now you’ve done it. Hope you’re comfy, you’ll be sitting here for hours looking at pictures of people you don’t know and hearing about the Keats family history.”
“Rick!” Larisa scolded, coming back to the table with a few tattered books bulging from beneath her arm. “Shall we go out back?”
“Sure, I’ll just get these out of the way.” Esa stood and began to collect the soiled dishes.
“Leave ‘em, we’ll get to ‘em later. They’re not going anywhere.” Larisa winked and took her cousin’s arm, escorting her through the French doors and into the scenic backyard.
“You’re just like Aunt Cindy. How is she by the way?”
“You know Mama, she can’t dally too long in any particular place. She’s made a career of traveling, but calls and emails at least once a week.”
“Does she still refuse to sleep here when she’s in town?”
“Are you kidding? The center of ninety-five percent of our discussions is about the dangers of my living here. She holes up in a hotel when she visits.”
Although they laughed, Esa found it odd that her beloved Aunt hadn’t been successful in convincing Larisa to leave the house. After all, that’s where her cousin acquired her overzealous belief in superstition.
It was hot, but the humidity was down which made for a perfect day. Birds filled the air with their boisterous song.
“Oh Rick, it’s beautiful. I can’t believe it. The last time I saw that old pigeon cage it was boarded up and begging to be leveled.” What a gift the man had with breathing new life into listless antiques.
The pigeonier had been miraculously transformed into a lavish gazebo and painted the same color as the house, complete with white trim. Its shape reminded Esa of a downscaled lighthouse. Cypress, greenery and brilliant patches of red flowers bordered the yard, which was easily the size of a football field.
They sipped lemonade from the deck while Jacque was given a brief history of the estate and shuffled through pictures of her relatives.
“You have your great grandmother’s eyes,” he said with a fond smile. “And ye mother’s smile. Beauty runs deep in your family lass. Indeed.”
“Awww,” Larisa swooned. “What a sweet thing to say. Do you have to dust the sugar off before you go to bed at night, Esa?”
They chuckled. “At least once every thirty minutes.” She chuckled and pretended to brush invisible sugar from her shoulder.
The reminiscing served as a refresher course for Esa. Although she’d thought about her genealogy from time to time, she’d never taken the actual steps to trace it. Why should she? It was all right here in Baton Rouge, just waiting until she was ready to discover it.
“How did the diamond fall into your family’s possession?” Jacque’s patience had apparently run thin. Esa flinched. She hadn’t had time to tell her cousin of the true nature of their visit.
Larisa blinked beneath furrowed brows. “The diamond—ooh! The diamond!” Her mouth opened and closed several times, as if she either didn’t know what to say, or how to say it.
“I’m sorry Larisa,” Esa began, a sheepish grin on her face. “Jacque was telling me about a family jewel that was misplaced some centuries ago. It sounded like the one rumored to be in our family.”
“The one given to Sophia?”
Esa crooked a sheepish shrug and nodded.
“I see.”
“Sophia?” Jacque inquired, glancing back and forth between cousins.
“Our grandmother, many times removed. This estate was built for her.”
“W-Who was the builder?” Jacque’s voice dropped an octave. Only then did Esa notice the change in his complexion. He was pale and seemed to sway a little in his seat.
“Jacque, are you all right?” Clutching his arm, she felt his head for signs of a fever in her alarm. “Do you need to lie down?”
“I’m fine lass. ‘Tis but the heat. The house…who built it?” he asked again with an abrupt curtness while removing her hand from his forehead. Beads of sweat dotted his hairline.
Ouch. Esa fell back in her chair, her feelings pinched. Perhaps it was the heat, combined with his desperation to find the diamond that made him so irritable.
“I don’t know of the actual contractors, but I would imagine it was her husband that had the place constructed.”
“Her husband?” He looked even paler, were it possible, and wiped his brow with the back of his hand. Was the big strong he-man going to faint?
“Leon Keats.”
Esa swallowed. If she thought him pale before, he was ghostlike now. The name seemed to tweak an already irritated nerve. A muscle twitched in his jaw, his teeth visibly ground beneath his cheeks, his knuckles went chalk white as he clutched the arms of his chair in a death grip. Nostrils flaring, he took a long hard breath. Then the color returned to his face in a wave of what could only be called black rage.
In a low venomous tone that left her soul feeling violated, Jacque spewed a steady stream of curses in his native tongue. Larisa had also studied the amorous language in high school, and although in a raw form, she seemed to understand at least part of the slanderous words.
Confusion flashed beneath narrow slits that looked briefly at Esa, then darted to the insulting trespasser sitting next to her. “Are you cursing our ancestors?”
The berserk glare rested for several seconds on Larisa before it settled on Esa. “Godsteeth! You are part of the devil’s bloodline! I’ll have my bloody stone and be on my
way.” His fist crashed the table and Esa was grateful her cousin had replaced the glass patio set with the teak one.
Jacque stormed off toward the brook at the end of the courtyard, leaving every chin dusting the wood planks in his departure.
Her heart fell into her lap as she watched him. He’d said he didn’t take to thrashing women, but for the better part of a second, she was sure he’d changed his mind. Her hand cupped her cheek; she could practically feel the sting the back of that strong hand might have left. She almost wished he had struck her. The pain surely wouldn’t have come within a mile of that inflicted by his hateful glare. It was all too easy to picture him commanding perilous raids amongst the equally black schooner, leaving scores of death and destruction in his wake. The same terror-stricken feeling shrouded her that had attacked her in the hotel room the day she’d typed his name into her laptop.
She swallowed, feeling the alarmed gazes of her extended family searing her flesh. How could she explain his actions when she didn’t understand herself? She wanted to go after him, but the look he’d given her would send Satan’s army running back to the safety of hell!
She made a meager attempt at an apology. “I’m sorry, maybe we should leave.” Suddenly, tears broke the damn holding the turmoil of emotions in check and she began trembling out of control.
“Esa?” Larisa came to her side, Rick to the other. “Honey what is it? Who is he?”
Her heart had taken all it could take in the past month. She couldn’t’ speak but cried harder, nestled in the comfort of her cousin’s loving embrace.
“It’s going to be all right. Whatever it is, we’ll make it all right sweetheart.” Larisa soothed a nurturing hand down her back.
Esa wished body and soul she could believe that, but somehow she didn’t think her beloved pirate would ever look at her in the same way again.
~ * ~
Jacque picked up a flat stone and sent it skimming across the shallow water. Unbelievable. How in the name of all saints had the younger Keats ended up with his treasure? Discovered his secret? The vile ex-boatswain had stolen everything from him! Everything was beginning to make sense. No wonder the ruffian up and deserted his post!
Had she told him?
But how could she? No one had known—no one could have known! Unless…No, even if Keats was able to elicit what little his father knew about the treasure, he wouldn’t know where to find it. He’d shared that with no one but Esa.
Merde! She was the direct descendent of his enemy. He ought to slice her pretty little throat for that reason alone.
This newly discovered bit of information was like a mortar that connected all the pieces together. But there were still too many segments missing to complete the structure.
Christ, he wasn’t even sure it was even the same bloody stone. If Keats had acquired it, why would he have held onto it, instead of profiting from the sizable jewel? It couldn’t be the same stone.
So where was it then?
He raked a bedeviled hand through his hair. There were only a few plausible explanations. Either the stone in Esa’s family was a fraud and some tropical critter had happened upon the real gem and mistaken it for food…or some ballsy bastard had followed him when he’d hidden it.
But who? Who would be brazen enough to risk the wrath of the lagoon serpent?
He was suddenly anxious to return to his own time. He had a score to settle. But first he needed to see the stone. Nothing else mattered. Nothing, and no one.
By all that was holy—he should have known better than to trust a lass by the name of Keats! A blithering traitor through and through. Had she secretly laughed behind his back, knowing her ancestors where his life’s adversary? Godsteeth, it was maddening.
He wanted to leave and never look back.
“You can catch more bees with honey than vinegar,” Rick said, coming up behind him.
“Indeed.” Jacque nodded and sent another stone hopping across the steady stream. “Though ‘tis not bees I seek, but a rare gem. Perhaps you’ve some advice on how to go about catching that one?”
Rick smiled and rocked back on his heels, hands balled in his trouser pockets. He seemed a gentle man; and he almost felt a smidgen of guilt for his previous outburst. The man was a few inches shorter than himself and finely muscled. He’d make a fine sailor, he mused, longing for a time when the brisk wind kissed his face as he stood at the helm of his ship.
“I don’t know what just happened back there, and this ol’ hound won’t go sniffing up someone else’s tree, but if it were me, I might start with an apology.”
An apology? What the hell did he have to apologize for? It was Esa that should be begging for his forgiveness—for his mercy, not that he would be foolish enough to give it, for deceiving him. She was the one harboring secrets, conveying lies with each sultry sway of those luscious hips. Besides the fact that it was in her corruptive nature being a woman and all, but how the devil could he have even thought to love a treacherous Keats?
Time to set his foolish animosities aside, and do whatever he must to acquire that abominable stone and return to his own time.
“Apology?” He masked his contempt with an amicable smile, brows lifted. He didn’t want to grovel like some lovesick fool, but if that’s what it took to succeed with his mission, so be it.
“It’s obvious Esa cares for you. Whatever happened back there has really shaken her up. I’m just saying, from one man to another, it’s best to apologize before the whole things blows out of hand.”
“Indeed.” Hand on chin, Jacque paused a few thoughtful moments before adding, “Aye, perhaps you’re right mate. I don’t know what came over me.”
Rick beamed and placed an encouraging hand on his shoulder. “Ah, think nothin’ of it. Happens to all of us from time to time. Esa’s got a good heart, but I’m sure you already know that. She’ll forgive you.”
“Lucky for me.”
~ * ~
The men returned to the deck, but the ladies weren’t there. They’d moved into the kitchen and were just finishing up the dishes when the men walked in.
“Er honey, can I talk to you for a minute?” Rick sent his wife a look that sent her scurrying to his side.
Removing her apron and depositing it on the back of a chair, Larisa gushed, “Of course sweetie. Esa, why don’t you and Jacque have a seat and we’ll be back in just a bit. ‘K?” She cast wide eyes at her cousin before disappearing through the door with her husband.
Esa knew that look. Larisa wanted her to talk to Jacque. But she couldn’t make her eyes lift to his face; he’d wounded her too badly. Drying her hands on a towel, she removed her apron before collecting the one Larisa had discarded and hung them on a hook inside the pantry.
Jacque was watching her; she could feel his eyes following every move she made. “Want some coffee?” She plucked a smooth pecan blend from the shelf before closing the pantry door. “Or maybe you’d rather have something to cool that ferocious temper of yours?”
“Coffee’s fine, thank you.”
Esa slammed the tin on the counter a little harder than she’d intended and turned bitter eyes on him. “What the hell got into you out there? Do you know how humiliating that was?”
His body stiffened, his lip snarled as though he wanted to spout something derogatory at her, but then seemed to think better of it. He cleared his throat and took a deep breath, releasing it slowly before he spoke, “Avast my love, I fear the tension of finding Sita’s stone has left me with naught but a vile temper. I’m sorry. I’ll do my best to maintain a civil tongue in future.”
It was like a load was lifted off her shoulders. She went to him and wrapped her arms about his neck. “Thank you Jacque, you’re forgiv—” she hesitated. Something was wrong. His arms held her close, but it wasn’t like before. He seemed distant, as though he didn’t really want to be here. Didn’t really want to be with her.
Was he telling the truth? Was it just the stress of finding the diamond, the poss
ibility of his returning to his time that left him so frigid?
“Are you all right?” She sought truth in his eyes, but he pulled away.
He took her hand and placed a kiss on her palm. “As I said Cherie, I’ll not be myself until the cursed stone is found.”
~ * ~
“Where are we going?” Esa asked from the backseat of the black SUV.
“It’s a surprise,” Rick said with a flashy smile in the rearview.
“Great, I love surprises,” she lied, not in the mood for any more surprises but not wanting to sound ungrateful at the same time. “Just remember, ‘do unto others…’” She chuckled.
Jacque looked at her with a superior grin. They’d talked a little while getting ready and he knew she didn’t want to go out tonight any more than he did. His gaze was unsettling and she found she wanted to slap it off his face. Something had changed between them, though she couldn’t put her finger on it.
Was he angry she hadn’t convinced her cousin to reveal the whereabouts of his precious treasure? She couldn’t be rude. Hell, there was no guarantee she even knew where it was! If Larisa didn’t bring it up, she’d asked again tomorrow. They may have gotten somewhere earlier if he hadn’t gone and lost his vicious temper. He had no one to blame but himself for the setback.
She hoped her cousin didn’t know where the damned diamond was.
Was he so anxious to leave her?
~ * ~
The nightclub was bustling with excitement. Jacque’s hands shot to his ears as if to protect them from the deafening thump of pop music, although he was visibly fascinated by the neon lights scattered throughout the establishment.
“So what do you think?” Larisa asked settling atop the tall barstool.
“It’s a nightclub. You’ll have to forgive Jacque. He’s never been in a night club before. He’s more of the corner pub type.” Esa grinned, pulling a stupefied privateer behind her as she made her way through the crowd and to the table and trying her damndest to appear pleasant. The last thing she needed right now was to be in a meat market with a pack of at least fifty ravenous wolverines fixed on her man!
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