She sidled up to him again. “Oh, I know a few business secrets. But let's not talk of business now. We are alone together and we should enjoy it.”
She came after him and this time he played along a little, barely nibbling her neck but never kissing her, feigning pleasurable moans.
She began to pant as she believed that he was finally coming around.
He came back up to her ear and whispered, “Just one little, tiny, secret for an old friend?”
“Can't we wait until after,” she whined.
“Oh, no, I am much too excited to wait.”
Quickening his breath, he feigned arousal for her.
“Touch me,” she hissed. Alex almost recoiled. It made him feel dirty, remembering when Anne had begged the same of him. He had welcomed the invitation then. It had aroused him then, made him feel wanted. Louisa's request made him feel ashamed. He pushed her away.
“Not yet. You need to learn patience.”
Her eyes turned smoky steel with a hint of something dark and threatening behind them.
“Alex, I weary of your games. Make love to me.”
Wanting to laugh out loud, Alex internally shook his head. Make love to her?
He would not call her promiscuity making love. Making love was what he had done with Anne. Making love was holding a woman in your arms, worshiping her body, connecting your souls. All Louisa wanted was a tumble in bed. And he wasn't going to give it to her.
“You demand too much, too soon. Wouldn't you rather wait for it? It's over so quickly and the pleasure just melts away. But, if you wait for the pleasure, it builds within you, bringing your body to a tense excitement, as your pleasure becomes centered in one spot. Just when you think you cannot take anymore, your body explodes into a magnificent orgasm that sends sensations to every tip of your body, rocking you to the core.”
Alex watched as his wicked description sunk into Louisa. He could tell it was working. Her breath was shallow, her chest heaving. She had even grabbed the seat for support.
When her breathing had recovered sufficiently, she agreed to wait. Alex pasted on a satisfied smile.
The carriage rolled on and Alex was grateful for more time. Her plantation was further from the party than his rented rooms, so he had the advantage.
Reaching into a small compartment, Alex removed a bottle of champagne.
“Shall we celebrate our reunion?”
“Oh, you beast, you knew I would leave the party with you!”
“I confess I intended to use all means of persuasion.”
Smiling devilishly, he popped the cork and poured two flutes. Before he could raise his glass in toast, she had downed her entire glass and held it up for more. He obliged, pouring another full measure.
As she downed that one, he inquired once more about Barnsley and she became misty-eyed.
“I am so sorry I left you for him. I should have defied my parents and run away with you. He is not good for me. He cheats on me, you know.”
Alex nodded. She was much more intoxicated now, forgetting pieces of their previous conversation. He thought she actually might be telling the truth, as opposed to the sob story she gave him the other day. Given her state right now, he wasn't sure she could make up lies.
“I never stopped loving you. I often wished you would come save me from this hellish place. I hate the Colonies. I just want to go back to London.”
Hiccuping, she continued, “I heard about the awful things he had done to you, to your business, and I prayed that God kept you safe.”
Alex could feel himself believing her. And she was talking now, so he had to keep her talking. He felt that deep hatred for Louisa slipping from him, replaced by pity.
Crying now, Louisa kept the story flowing, “He had people murdered. He burned your beautiful ship. Oh, he has done such terrible things. I even read a letter of instruction to one of his thugs, ordering him to kill you. I wept for days, praying fervently he did not succeed,” she cried.
Hope leaped in Alex's chest.
“Do you know where I can find that letter?”
Shaking her head, she held out her glass for more champagne.
“I don't know where an'thing is.”
Her words slurring, she weaved a bit, in time with the coach.
“It might be in his office. He keeps ever'thing locked up there.”
His hired man had tried and failed there.
“I can't imagine he would keep something like that in an easily accessible place. His office is not far from the ballroom, that is too easy to get into to.”
She giggled.
“No, not that one. The secret one.” She put a finger to her lips in a drunken gesture of secrecy. “That one is off his bedchamber, up the hidden stairs,” she whispered and giggled again. “But, shhhh, we're not supposed to go in there.”
Finally!
“Where is the door to the office?” Alex asked as if he were speaking to a child.
“Behind the big picture,” she slurred.
Alex would put this man behind bars before breakfast. And then he would be free to be with Anne. Lost in his thoughts, he didn't see Louisa sidle up to him again.
“I'm done waitin'. I'm ready now.”
Before Alex could push her away, she slumped onto his shoulder, passed out cold.
“Thank you, Lord,” Alex murmured, as he looked heavenward.
Extricating herself from her greedy hands, Alex tapped lightly on the roof of the coach to let the coachman know it was time to stop.
*******
Anne had died. And Alex had killed her. By all accounts, Anne was, indeed, alive and well. She was seen walking, talking, eating; all the normal things living persons do. If you had asked anyone they would tell you that Anne was most certainly alive.
As she stood in a corner, the man she loved drank, danced, and flirted with a woman she detested. All she could do was watch her world shatter in helpless agony. It was evident this went well beyond evidence gathering. She was completely humiliated. When they left together, hanging onto each other in a debauched embrace, she quietly left the ballroom.
Swaying with the coach lanterns, Anne held on as the hackney took her to her rented room. Curiously numb, she plopped onto the chair in the dimly-lit room, closed her eyes, and cursed herself for the fool she had become.
After a nap, Anne sent Julia another message and her friend quickly responded. Anger replaced numbness and Anne was rampaging. Poor Julia nodded encouragement as her friend verbally flogged her husband.
Pacing about, Anne rambled about how much of an idiot Alex was and how much she detested that horrible woman. After twenty minutes of cursing them both, Anne collapsed on the bed, crying. Julia moved to comfort her and the two remained as such for a good while.
“I know I must do something, Julia. I suppose it is time to find Charles,” Anne sniffled.
“I don't know how,” Julia pointed out.
“They must be in the French Quarter. If this is the only inn near New Orleans and I know they aren't staying here, then they must be there.”
Anne jumped up again and resumed her pacing.
“Dressed as a man, I can move more freely. I will seek out someone who can find them. That way, I won't have to wander about the city, knocking on doors.”
Julia brightened, “That sounds like the best way, yes.”
“Good. I will go make inquiries, you go home. I don't want anyone getting too suspicious,” Anne said, wiping her eyes.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
“Her parents were stone-faced during the burial mass, but I wept openly. I have never shown such emotion again. No, now I never let anyone know what I am thinking or feeling. I don't want anyone to get the better of me.”
Alex picked up Louisa and carried her to the front door of her plantation house. The butler did not seem surprised to see a strange gentleman carrying the mistress of the house while she was passed out. He pointed up the stairs and gave Alex directions towards her bedcham
ber.
Setting her down on the bed, Alex took off her slippers and covered her up with the coverlet. When he was done searching Barnsley's private office, he would ring for a maid to take care of her. For now, he did not wish to disturb the household.
Creeping out into the hall, he looked right and left, checking that there was no one walking about. Borrowing a lit taper from Louisa's room, he was able to locate Barnsley's door. Slowly turning the knob, he silently entered the room. Alex spotted a tall gentleman's mirror in the right corner of the bedchamber. Just as Louisa had said, there was a large portrait behind it of the duke himself. Alex snorted silently in disgust. The man was extremely egotistical.
Feeling around for a device that would aid the portrait in spilling its secrets, Alex finally located hinges on the left side. He carefully pulled the right side of the portrait to him and it swung open like a regular door.
Peering into the opening, he discovered a set of narrow stairs. He took them two at a time, finally discovering a small space. His secret office.
Alex wasted no time in rifling through his papers, only to come up empty. He found plenty of ledgers linking him to his smuggling operation but that was it. No letters of interest, no nothing. The only letters he found were from his mistress. Everyone knew about their liaison, so that was no help. So, the duke was a dirty cheat, but it didn't prove that he murdered anyone.
Alex thought about Phillip, thought about the dead laborers on his plantation. He could see the sorrow on their faces as they cried over the dead bodies of their husbands, wives, and children. And his anger grew. It grew into a rage like he had never felt before. He was tired of this cat and mouse game. He needed Louisa to stay sober long enough to incriminate her husband. He had to set a trap and he had to use Louisa as bait.
*******
It was around two in the morning when Alex arrived at his rented rooms to find Charles waiting for him. He poured a brandy, then told Charles exactly what he had discovered. They puzzled over this for a while, then Charles remembered his news.
“I received a missive from our man on Colinas Verdes. Chris has woken up, but has not been able to talk,” Charles informed Alex.
“Bastard,” Alex bit off then swallowed his brandy whole.
“Well, I'm sure Chris will recover quickly and tell us what we need to know,” Charles said in mock optimism.
“You would do well to write to your wife, Alex,” Charles continued as Alex made himself comfortable on one of the chairs in the large seating area.
“I shall write her a quick missive tonight,” Alex promised.
“Just be careful with Louisa. I know you are only using her, but you should have told Anne your plan. Let's hope your little stunt tonight at the party doesn't reach her. And you could have done it more discreetly,” Charles chided.
“She will hate me. If she doesn't already, ” Alex agreed.
Alex stood and poured himself another brandy. Taking his time, he savored the fiery liquid, “Yes, I could have been more discreet. I guess I just wanted everyone to believe it too.”
“I'm sure you convinced the world, Alex. If Anne ever finds out...”
“Well, you must see it never does,” Alex warned.
“That's your job, Alex. Not mine,” Charles reminded him.
“Cease your games, Charles. You wanted me to marry her, I did. She is my wife and I make the decisions now. I'm telling you to keep your damn mouth shut. I will not be manipulated by you or your family ever again.”
Charles shrugged, “Sorry. I just thought to help. I just want to protect her. Habit, I guess.”
“I understand. But you must understand that I protect her now. Agreed?”
“Of course,” Charles smiled and changed the subject.
“Barnsley doesn't exactly hide the fact that he has a mistress,” Charles noted after a swallow of brandy.
“No, he has openly dallied with that actress for years,” Alex agreed.
“I think you should up the ante with Louisa. I think she wanted you to know about that office. The only question is why,” Charles wondered.
“I don't know. I intend to find out, though.”
“How? Maybe I could break into the house now that we know where the office is.”
“You will do nothing of the kind.”
“Then what is our next move?”
“Send her a letter,” Alex said simply.
Darling, I had hoped last night would be our night.
If you still want me, come over tomorrow night around ten.
I will show you a most pleasurable time.
Yrs,
A.M.
Louisa read the missive twice then folded it in half with a secret smile on her face. She had Alex in the palm of her hand now. Hurrying to her bedchamber, she silently listed everything she had to do. First she quickly penned a response to Alex and rang for a maid, giving her strict instructions to take it directly to the Earl of Redbridge's residence. Then she prepared for her brand of seduction.
Alex received Louisa's response rather quickly. He smiled. She had accepted his offer to meet. Now he had to let Charles know that the trap was set.
******
That afternoon, the Duke of Barnsley came home with some very good news. He cheerfully knocked on his wife's door to inform her that he had just come into a large sum of money. He was sure that would please her. When she refused to see him, he almost broke down the door but thought better of it. Resigned, he walked back downstairs to his office. There were several things he had to attend to if he was to be prepared for his meeting tonight. It annoyed him that his wife was not around when he needed her. And they had never finished this business about a child. He sighed, weary of his wife.
The business venture he had managed on the side was finally paying off. It looked like he could pay off some of his debts and finally start living like a proper landowner again. Smiling, he sat behind his desk and pulled a letter out of his pocket. His man had taken care of everything, as promised. Now, he just had to show up at this blasted meeting tonight.
*******
That night, a mysterious, cloaked figure was waiting in a dark alley in a seedy New Orleans neighborhood. The hired assassin arrived right on time for their arranged meeting. The cloaked figure said nothing, just held out a gloved hand with a piece of paper on it. He opened it, and read the instructions.
Kill the Earl of Redbridge tonight at 10 pm.
Your contact will meet you there.
**********
While everyone else had been plotting, Anne was hiring a man to find Alex, Charles, and Jack. She found that having a purpose kept her from crying. Anne remembered Julia's parting words to her.
Anne thanked Julia and told her she could never have accomplished so much without her.
Julia had laughed, “You don't need me, silly. You are the strongest person I know. I could never do what you have done. You musn't ever give up. You have to keep fighting. If only to steal him away from my awful cousin.”
Anne laughed for the first time in hours. Julia left then and Anne had gone to work.
Now recalling those words, Anne felt her confidence rise.
It took a few hours, but the hired man returned and gave her the address she needed.
Anger coursing through her veins, she set out in her masculine clothing once more to fight for her family.
********
Charles answered the persistent knocking on the door only to discover his cousin on the other side.
“Anne,” he hissed, pulling her indoors, “how the hell did you get here?”
“A boat and a coach,” Anne proudly informed him.
“By yourself? Do you have any idea what might have happened to you?!” he shouted.
“I disguised myself as a boy, as you can see. No one knew and I kept to myself. I was unharmed,” Anne protested.
“Anne, this is no game,” Charles said gravely.
“Charles, do not condescend to me. I have seen more ho
rror than I care to admit. I am not a child. I handled myself with decorum when I was forced into a marriage I did not desire. I was determined to make it work, though, so I did the best I could to please you and mother and Alex. Since then I have come to love him and I came here to fight his fight. I watched silently while my husband laughed, drank, and flirted with the most notorious duchess in the States. I stood by when he left with her, knowing exactly where they were going and what they were doing. On top of that, the entire party knew what they were doing. And do you suppose I felt even the tiniest humiliation? Now you accuse me of treating my life as a game. No, Charles, I do not think this is a game. In fact, it is a damned tragedy,” she finished.
Charles looked horrified at her use of profanity, but didn't say a word. He just wrapped his arms around his cousin and said, very quietly, “I'm sorry, Anne. I should have done you better.”
“It's not your fault, Charles. We all have a lot to atone for,” she reflected, thinking of the burned plantation, of William's bondage, of Maria's lost family.
Jack interrupted their reunion and hugged Anne tightly.
“Please don't tell Alex I'm here,” Anne pleaded to the men before her.
“We can hardly keep this secret,” Charles laughed.
“Charles, after what I just told you I saw, I shouldn't need to remind you that I am not ready to face him.”
Charles let out a slow breath and Jack shrugged, “Alright.”
“He's out right now anyway, looking at a townhouse to rent for the night,” Jack supplied.
Anne narrowed her eyes but didn't say anything.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
“I thought her father wouldn't let me take you, but he did. I returned to England and claimed you as my legitimate son.”
Several hours later, Anne was tossing and turning in her bed. She still heard the screams from the plantation fire; still saw Alex entwined with the duchess.
Giving up the fight, she crept out bed, downstairs to the desk. Charles insisted she stay there with him and had a man fetch her bags and pay her tab at the inn. Alex had not come back but had sent a missive that he had found a place and would be spending the night there.
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