Janey gasped at Anne's use of improper language but was not about to chastise her sister. She could see Anne was in no mood for that. The two had sparred on trivialities since childhood, but Janey could see this would be no quibble.
Janey moved from the bed and gave her sister one last hug. She had a newfound esteem for her proper sister. Maybe Anne wasn't so respectable after all. The thought brought a smile to Janey's face.
Janey left her sister to visit Chris. He had been moved into Jack's bedchamber to recuperate and she liked to go in and talk to him, even if he couldn't hear her. It was a great comfort to tell him all her secrets. Like how much she had always envied her levelheaded sister. And how much she wanted to be taken seriously, like Anne.
She entered Chris's bedchamber door and sat next to him, silently promising herself she would never tell the mysterious and handsome Christopher Taylor she fancied him. Maybe.
******
Alex was sure of so little in this world. In fact, he believed firmly that the only certainty in this world was that whenever fate had a chance to knock you on your ass, it would.
Despite his steadfast faith in his world view, he was coming to believe that fate was not always responsible for kicking you down, it was those you care about the most.
Louisa had dealt him a vicious blow when she had refused him. His father, albeit unintentionally, knocked him over when he revealed he had been born out of wedlock. His brother's death had turned his life upside-down.
And Anne had completely rocked his world with her steadfast faith in him. It was ironic, really. It should have been the best thing in the world. He was in love with her and he was sure that, under normal circumstances, they would right now be enjoying matrimonial bliss. If anyone had told him last year that he would now be a happily married man, he would have laughed in disbelief. Yet, here he was, in a carriage, winding his way around the streets of New Orleans, ruminating on the fact that he hadn't seen his wife in over two weeks' time.
His mind wandered over her body, missing the way it fit to his. He also wondered, quite unexpectedly, how quickly they would have a child. He remembered his father's third cousin, next in line if he failed to produce an heir, who was a detestable man, at best. He gambled, he drank to excess constantly, cheated on his wife and publicly bragged about it, and he never seemed to have two shillings to rub together. He was repulsive and Alex and would be damned if he would dishonor his father and brother by letting their hard work go to waste. Smiling, he thought he would have to tell Anne about him and imagined what her response would be. Sure she would agree that no man like that should ever get a title, she would insist they try for a son until they got one. That thought sent a shudder through him.
He knew in his heart it wasn't just her body he missed, although that was reason enough. But he loved to be in her company. They could talk for hours at a time. Sometimes about nothing; other times they spoke of current events, antiquity, and politics. She was well educated and informed. She had just begun to look beyond the histories and mythologies and question the way the world worked; contemplating tough world issues. Anne had stirred his soul. And his heart.
He shook off his thoughts again. He needed to quell his longing for her. A tough job lay ahead of him and he had to concentrate.
The coach rounded the corner to St. Charles Avenue and Alex marveled at the beautiful homes lining the street. He swayed a little with the coach, focusing on the homes and trees in front of him and not on his wife.
The first week away from her had been difficult, to be sure, but there had been much to do. Whilst still aboard the ship, Charles, Alex, and Jack had formulated a plan in which Alex was to press his advantage with the Duchess.
Upon arrival in New Orleans, they had rented rooms quietly just off of Canal Street.
It was then determined that Alex would attend a party at a plantation not far from the city. The Duchess was sure to attend and he needed to ensure he got something out of their meeting. The thought of seeing her again repulsed him, but he tamped down the emotion and reminded himself it was all for the greater good.
Alex seemed set on that conclusion and had to laugh at himself. Another certainty that life was kicking him in the ass once again.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
“I failed to protect your mother, but I was determined to protect you.”
Anne waited until just before dawn then packed a small bag with men's clothes and a couple of apples. She knew the only way to survive traveling alone would be to disguise herself. She had money for a public coach, lodging and food, so she should have no trouble there. The ship could carry here there inside a week. She would need to avoid trouble and keep to herself. No lady would travel by herself and if she were to find herself in trouble, there would be no one to save her. Pinning her hair up very carefully without the assistance of her maid, she placed a cap firmly on her head and set off with determination.
Anne stared longingly at her wedding band and reluctantly took it off, slipping it into her pocket. She would have to forgo wearing it until she arrived in New Orleans.
If he thought to continually dismiss her assistance, she would make him think twice. Refusing to be cast aside, she would show him differently. Declaring her independence felt damn good and she vowed to hang onto that feeling as long as possible.
The first obstacle was the voyage to New Orleans. The trip took longer than usual, thanks to rough storms. Anne would sit on the floor, clinging to whatever was immobile, riding out the tumultuous sea. It was the worst time in her life and she could not wait to get there. She was living in misery from day to day, never knowing when this nightmare would end. After one week Anne was ready to scream. Endless rocking, endless worry about her husband, endless worry about discovery. Ten days felt like a year. When her ship finally docked, she wanted to kiss the very ground.
After the voyage from hell was over, she docked in New Orleans, Louisiana. Realizing she would have to find a place to stay, Anne munched on a stale biscuit as she walked brusquely in the chilly early autumn morning. Keeping her head down, she moved through the throngs of people gathered on the docks, the goods moving back and forth, up and down Canal Street. Her pants gave her more ease in moving about and she found she covered a lot more ground this way.
Locating her first public hackney required difficulty, but she finally hailed one and climbed in. Deepening her voice, she asked the coachman to take her to an inn. After riding out of the city quite a ways, she finally spotted the Foxhole Inn. Her stomach rumbled, announcing lunch time. She had lost much weight whilst on the ship. The endless rocking hadn't inspired hunger in her rolling stomach. Now that she was on dry land, she found herself ravenous.
The day had turned hot and humid quickly and Anne silently thanked God she wasn't wearing a corset.
Carefully entering the premises, Anne looked about to see if she recognized anyone. Nothing. A few men in the corner laughed at her, nudged each other, and murmured insults. She knew what they were thinking: that she was a weak boy. She was in no mood to be assaulted in this manner, but she had to keep a level head and keep to herself. So she crunched herself in a corner and turned away from the crowd, wrapping her bag strap firmly around her wrist. Maybe they would forget about her after a while. Luckily, they did.
A mirror to the left caught Anne's attention and she smiled as she stared at the familiar stranger staring back at her. Reminded again by the rumble in her stomach that it was time to eat, she ordered a simple mutton stew and a berry shrub. She supposed that was alright. Maybe she should have ordered an ale. That probably would have been more proper. But there was nothing she could do now.
After lunch, Anne requested a room, climbed the stairs sleepily and fell into a chair by the empty fireplace in her temporary bedchamber.
It was a small room but suited her needs just fine. A small bed, chest of drawers, chair, and small stone fireplace. Just the essentials.
Nerves frazzled, Anne tried to relax. The afternoon su
n beat into the room, warming it to almost unbearable heat. The two combined caused an overwhelming sleepiness and she dozed in the chair.
Dreaming contentedly of her husband, she saw them dancing under the moonlight, drawing each other in, hypnotized by the rhythm of each others' hearts. She saw one of them gently pulling the other into the bedroom; the other following willingly, trusting the other with their body and soul.
She dreamed of days to come; splashing in the waterfall with him, watching their children play on the beach. She dreamed of sunsets and long conversations with Alex, sharing their ideas and feelings.
A tall, skinny blond with icy gray eyes entered her dreams. She turned Alex's head and kissed him passionately, ripping him from her side. She screamed but Alex disappeared in a blaze of fire. One by one, faces of dead men, women, and children appeared, only to be lost in the fire too.
Anne awoke with a start, suddenly realizing something truly horrible.
********
Wide awake with fear, Anne's first order of business was to send a message to Julia.
She paid the messenger handsomely and waited patiently for a reply. One came within the hour and Julia followed not far behind, rapping presently on her door.
Julia stepped into the room, terrified at the site of an unknown gentleman.
Anne laughed, removed her hat, and unpinned her hair.
“Anne?” her friend whispered, wide eyed.
Anne nodded and Julia sighed with relief.
“I don't know if you can help me or not, but please, at least listen to what I have to say.”
“I will do whatever you need me to do,” Julia promised.
“God Bless you, Julia,” Anne whispered through her nervous tears.
Julia smiled and the girls moved into the room to sit comfortably; Anne on the bed and Julia in the chair by the fire.
“I have to get to Alex quietly. I don't know where he is staying and I don't want to start asking questions all over town. No one is to know I am here or that we are married. Understand?”
“Of course. How do you propose to accomplish this?”
Anne smiled triumphantly. “I believe he will try to contact your cousin. Keep track of her comings and goings as best you can. Let me know everything little thing she does. Can you do that?”
“Of course. Oh! There is to be a ball soon. The Benoit's I believe. My cousin will be attending. You can come with me.”
Anne shook her head, “I cannot go in full view.”
Standing from the bed, Anne paced the small room, stopping in front of the chest of drawers. She fingered the silver-handled hairbrush; the one luxury item she allowed herself. Brightening, she turned to Julia.
“Servant's entrance. You sneak out of the ballroom and let me in that way. Then I shall find a hidden perch in the ballroom to observe.”
“You will take the utmost care?” Julia admonished.
“You have my word. Now, what time will you be attending?”
The girls spent the next two hours carefully planning the break-in.
******
Julia was waiting for Anne in the Benoit kitchen at eleven o'clock the next night. The kitchen was hot and busy with servants bustling about. Julia began to perspire. This was not the sort of behavior she was accustomed to. Her life was quiet and boring. But she had to admit to a secret thrill at this clandestine activity; such that it was. Her life was devoid of excitement and she thought to deviate from her routine, even for a moment.
Taking a ladies' handkerchief out of her reticule, she dabbed her upper lip while Anne stole through the servant's entrance door. Dispensing with pleasant greetings, the ladies found their way out of the kitchen and up to the ballroom without being spotted by any of the party guests. This was no small feat, given the number attending this party. Many came from all over to attend the Benoit's annual ball.
Julia managed to guide Anne into the ballroom using a side entrance. From there, they made their way to the second story where Anne could watch, unobserved. Julia gave Anne a quick hug and they exchanged farewells. Then Anne settled in to see what, if anything, she could find out about her husband.
Anne had trouble piecing the last year of her life together. She had begun the year dreading the day she met her betrothed now, as the year was closing, she was totally in love with him. The journeys had been a mixture of highs and lows and everything in between. Finally, she had come to know herself and make her own decisions. Following her husband here was the only thing she could do. Agonizing over it for weeks had just cemented her resolve. This was what loving someone was all about. Anne just wished she knew if he felt the same or simply desired her. She would have given anything to know his heart.
And she would have given everything if she had not been there for what would happen next.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
“There was nothing I could do, your mother died in front of me. There isn't a day that goes by that I don't regret taking action sooner.”
Alex walked into the Benoit's ball looking like he had not one care in the world. His silk dress clothes fit him to perfection, his face was freshly shaved, his hair was recently clipped.
In short, he looked like a heartbreaker; a man ready to find his prey and devour it. And that is, precisely, what Alex was doing.
The Duchess of Barnsley could spot a willing man at twenty paces. She didn't have to look that far, as Alex was only about ten. She eyed him much like a snake would a mongoose before it struck. Slivering through the crowd, she was determined he would be her prey tonight. She had yet to find an entertaining man this evening and he would be an interesting challenge. Since their reunion on Colinas Verdes, she was itching to get him into her bed. Tonight she would make her move. She had some interesting information for Alex; information she was sure he couldn't resist.
“My Lord, how lovely to see you again.”
He nodded. “Your Grace, never the pleasure,” he teased.
Pretending to pout, she stuck her lower lip out. “Oh, Alex, don't be cruel. I thought we might continue our conversation from your wedding ball. After all, you must forgive me, knowing how I was forced to marry, knowing how I wanted you to get on with your life, so I was cruel. You do still forgive me, don't you?”
What a little actress! Alex almost wanted to believe her.
“Of course I forgive you, your grace, but you cannot blame a jilted man for a few jabs, can you?”
“No I suppose not. Come, let us go someplace a little more private,” she purred, for his ears only.
“I think I'd like a drink first, love. Would you mind?”
“Why, no, a drink would be wonderful,” she gushed.
Arm in arm, they walked to the refreshment table.
Whatever secrets Louisa was hiding, Alex would figure them out tonight. She had latched onto him rather quickly and he had let her. She begged his forgiveness and hung onto him as if she never wanted to let go. Of course, Alex was suspicious she was lying, steering him off Barnsley's course. The old fool might actually be trying to outsmart him. He would not let himself believe her innocence until he had firm proof. If she was a decoy, he'd sniff her out and turn the tables on his prey. For now, he would flirt shamelessly and laugh too loudly.
All Louisa wanted to do was talk about when they were courting and he needed no reminder of that. After two hours he was no closer to what he wanted, so he decided to push.
“Louisa, darling, why don't we take this party to somewhere private?”
Positively glowing with excitement, she agreed.
They made a very public display of leaving together. Alex was just thankful Anne was not there. She would have been his undoing.
Alex sent her coachman home and gave his coachman discreet instructions to take his time getting to the Barnsley's residence. Once he was there, he would need to act quickly so he had bought a little time to get some information out of her. He wanted this business over with.
Assisting Louisa into the carriage, he cli
mbed in behind her and chose the seat opposite from her, facing the back window. No sooner did the door close behind him that she was all over him, crudely licking his ear and attempting to fondle him. He carefully pushed away from her, gently setting her across from him again.
“Hold on, darling, not yet. The anticipation is everything,” he hissed.
There was no way in hell he was going to bed her. He only wanted his wife in his bed and he would never betray the bond they had shared.
Louisa sat back, a pout on her face.
“Of course, Alex. You know how I get with you.”
As a matter of fact, he didn't know, but he would never tell her that.
Smiling her evil smile, trying to pretend she was in control of the situation, Alex pitied her. She was so drunk, he doubted she really remembered who she was with. All he knew was that he wanted her secrets and she would give them to him tonight.
Treading carefully, he began his interrogation with a curled lip; a stiff, pathetic excuse for a smile.
“So, my darling, where is your husband tonight?”
Her expression turned dark at once, “Oh, must we speak of him?”
Alex nonchalantly shrugged at her pout.
“Just curious. I wouldn't want to be interrupted. Besides, you have to admit, you left me wanting a few weeks ago. You told me that you hold all of your husband's secrets. Which one's my dear? His latest mistress? We all know that. No, let me see, his latest gambling debts? Come now, Louisa, you must tell me something particularly evil about the man.”
He hissed the word evil as if the devil himself were asking the question.
“Well, I told you he ignores me and flaunts his mistress. Isn't that bad enough?”
“The man is no candidate for sainthood, dearest, but I am sure there is more than one man who would admit to the same. It does not make it right, but it is a fact.”
Behind Your Eyes Page 17