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A Gentleman's Game

Page 4

by Rebecca Matthews


  Cole could see her devotion to Darcy, who remained silent, smiling gratefully at Eva. What their connection was could be another item on his agenda, but first the police seemed to need a little help in their investigation.

  “Darcy, can I talk to you for a minute, alone?”

  “There is absolutely nothing that you can’t say to me in front of Eva. We are like sisters.” Darcy told him firmly.

  “Ok, then I will tell you what I overheard in the hotel dining room last night. One old biddy said you were practically kept under lock and key by your husband. Is that true?”

  “People will say what they want if it true or not true.” Again, Eva answered before Darcy could open her mouth.

  “Darcy, I want to help you. I just need you to be honest. If there is anything that could help clear your name, please tell me,” he pleaded.

  “Cole, I thank you, but none of this is your concern. Your assistance was most welcome when I fainted on the boat. I appreciate your help then and now with Detective Gant, but there is nothing more you can do for me. The future is very uncertain at this point. I don’t know what will happen next, but you are not to worry about me. I won’t impose on you further.”

  “Darcy.” He sat down beside her and took her hands in his. To his surprise, she did not pull away. “You are not imposing on me. Do you not understand? I want to help you and be near you, not because of anything that has happened in the last twenty-four hours, but since the moment I met you.”

  Darcy’s eyes widened, and Eva’s jaw dropped.

  “Cole! You can’t mean what you are saying. Are you deranged? You don’t know me at all, and now I have to contend with this awful mess. My husband is not yet buried, and you are throwing yourself at me? I knew you were forward and outspoken from the start, but this is going too far!” She shot to her feet. “Please go now and don’t return.” She refused to look at him.

  Realizing he had crossed a line, he rose and took his hat from Eva who held it out to him, eagerly anticipating his departure. Turning, he quickly left without another word.

  I should have known better. She is a frightened little bird, and I scared her even more by moving too fast. Damn! Damn! Why am I acting like such a fool?

  He decided to walk back to the hotel, needing the time and air to sort out his thoughts and feelings. The time he got, but on this hot July day, the air was thick and muggy. He had never been so bold with another woman; had never presumed to push his way into her life as he had with Darcy. What was it that made him so obsessed with her?

  Passing by the police station on his way to his hotel, he happened to see the two officers that were at Darcy’s today. Their ice-cold stare of suspicion made him turn away and pick up his pace.

  What were they thinking about me? Did they suspect me as the hired killer, or her lover that needed her husband out of the way so we could be together with Edgar’s money?

  He had to admit, the unexpected turn of events could not have been more advantageous to him, or more incriminating. Darcy was right of course. To be seen with her at this point would just increase suspicion of her being involved in foul play regarding her husband. He must keep a safe distance, for a while, but he still intended to do some sleuthing on his own. He had little to no faith in the police’s ability to clear Darcy’s name.

  Chapter Three

  “Detective Gant, an unidentified man just left a note for us to meet with him near the Higgins, Braswell, and Hunt warehouse at midnight tonight for information regarding the death of Edgar Higgins,” the desk clerk told the detective.

  “Hmm. Ok, good. We need some help on this one. So far all we have is dead ends.”

  At midnight, Detective Gant and two officers with guns drawn met with a man who stayed in the shadows, his face covered with a kerchief.

  “Are ya the detective on the Higgins’ murder?” the mystery man asked.

  “Yes, if you have any information that can help us catch the killer or give us a motive for the murder, we’d like to hear it. I assume you don’t want to tell us who you are.”

  “Right. I know some things about Mr. Higgins that a lot of folks don’t.”

  “Go on.”

  “Over the past few months, he’s been meetin’ late at night in the basement of his warehouse with some important men from all over the South. I heard them with my own ears say they was gettin’ together with a phony business name so they could manu, manup, man…What is that word?”

  “Manipulate?” the detective suggested.

  “Yeah, that’s it. Manipulate market prices for cotton and stuff so they can get top dollar. They’re scattered all over. They said t’would make it hard for anyone to nail down who was doin’ it if’n they was to ever get caught.”

  “Where did you get all this information?”

  “Well”—he chuckled lightly—“I ain’t got nowheres to live, so I found a loose board in the basement wall, and I been slippin’ in and out of it to have a place to stay. Been sleepin’ down here among the bales of cotton and other stuff. They didn’t know I was here, o’course.”

  “You say there were other men. Do you know any of their names?”

  “Well I heard them say Mr. Hunt, and I think one was Cooke, and another one was called Griff or Griffin.”

  “Ok, this information may prove useful. Are you sure you don’t have anything more?” The man shook his head. “You don’t remember anything else that was said?”

  “No, that’s really all I got, sorry. If I knew more, I’d tell ya for shore.”

  “I’m sure you would,” the detective said flatly. Reaching into the breast pocket of his coat, he removed a small wad of bills, pulled off a two dollar bill, and handed it to the man. “Here’s a little something for your trouble. If your information leads to an arrest and conviction, there may be more where that came from.”

  The tramp grabbed the money eagerly and was nodding his head briskly as the detective finished speaking.

  “How do we contact you?”

  “Oh, I’ll be around, and if’n I hear anythin’, I’ll come to ya like I did this time.”

  “All right. Well, thanks again, Mister.”

  “Thank ya!” The bum called behind them as the detectives quickly left the area.

  “What do you make of what he told us?” one of the officers asked Detective Gant.

  “I think we need to find out who these other gentlemen are. We have to search for a Mr. Cooke and a Mr. Griffin. We already know who Hunt is. Sounds to me like a business venture gone sour. Someone rocked the boat, and that was not well received. We need more information though. We can’t move forward with what we have now.”

  “Sure wish that bum knew more.”

  “So do I. So do I,” Detective Gant mumbled.

  ****

  Darcy couldn’t believe what Cole had purported. How could he assume since Edgar was dead, I would fall into his arms just like when I fainted on the dock? Oh, no!

  She was free! Finally free! Free of the clutches of the man who had used her and paid for his abuse with lavish gifts and a mansion for a prison, complete with servants. The one thing she had not had was freedom to come and go as she pleased, or be around other people outside these walls or within them. She was not about to be tied to another man and have him telling her what to do.

  The thought of giving herself to another man repulsed her. Oh, Cole was charming and very handsome, and he had been kind and considerate, but he was still a man. She had enjoyed his company on the ship, but it could never go any further…even if she had wanted it to. Besides, she had no idea how to develop a relationship with a man, even if she had been so inclined. She may just be trading the devil for the deep blue sea. What if Cole’s interest in her now was because he thinks she just became a wealthy young widow? Boy is he in for a surprise if he thinks he will move in on me for my money! He may have even more vile motives than Edgar had. The nerve of that man!

  All this hubbub about Edgar brought old memories flooding back,
giving her even more reason to rejoice at his death. Darcy thought back to the first time she met Edgar while working as a chambermaid on the Queen Annabelle. She had been down on her hands and knees scrubbing the cabin floor when he approached her with his announcement that day.

  “Darcy, my dear, I have some excellent news. I have met with your parents, and they have consented for you to become my wife and live with me in New Orleans.” His leering grin was revolting. “They only hesitated for a moment at the offer I made them,” he gloated.

  He smelled of cigar smoke, foul sweat, and his crooked teeth were tobacco stained, trapped food particles visible as he closed the small gap between them with a predatory air. She became hysterical immediately.

  “No, no. You will not have me for your wife or anything else! You will never lay a hand on me you rich, filthy scum!” Her life had not allowed much opportunity to consider romance, and there truthfully were no winsome prospects, but to be sold like a bale of cotton was a horrendous blow. How could my parents do this to me? They did not consult me or take my feelings into account at all!

  Gaping in horror, she continued to back away from what she felt must surely be a raving lunatic. To her relief the captain of the ship arrived at that moment, and she thought she was saved.

  “Hello, Captain Finch. Meet my fiancée Miss Decker. We would like you to marry us immediately.”

  “No!” she screamed.

  Edgar’s hand reached out and grabbed her arm so tightly she winced and crumpled against him from pain.

  “Just some last minute wedding jitters,” Edgar explained with a timid chuckle.

  “This is quite irregular Mr. Higgins. How old is this girl? I am afraid I must protest since she appears very young and most unwilling for this marriage to take place.”

  “Captain, this is not a request, it is a command.” Edgar’s polite, placating tone had become a sinister, low growl that filled the room with evil. He was small, but his money was mighty, and he knew how to make people comply with what he wanted. “I am part owner of this shipping franchise, and I am commanding you as your employer to perform this marriage ceremony immediately.” His ruthless threat shrouded the room like a heavy fog, dimming what light there had been. His hot, putrid breath streamed over Darcy as he spoke through snarled lips, holding her close to his side.

  She wanted to die. She wanted him to die. She wanted the captain to rescue her. But none of those things happened and within a few short minutes, although she never said “I do,” the captain proclaimed them man and wife and was promptly dismissed.

  “Now, the deed is done! You are legally mine, and no one can take you from me.” What followed was so repulsive she prayed she would faint, but the mercy of unconsciousness did not claim her. Instead, she remained awake and alert suffering through every moment of the sordid ordeal.

  I did not even get to tell my family goodbye. How can this be happening to me? Her mind had screamed in protest. This could not be real! One minute she is going about her cleaning duties and the next, this disgusting creature who makes her physically sick at his touch, beds her like a whore.

  The act of consummating their marriage had been horrible beyond her worst nightmare. Torn and bleeding, she cried for hours afterward. Was this what she had to face each and every time? How could she have ended up like this—nothing more than a sex slave for her perverted ‘husband’?

  The next time was no better.

  “My darling, I am going to have you this way. If you would just relax and cooperate, you would find it is not really so awful. I am never letting you go my precious dove, and I do not want to hogtie you each time I have you in bed!” His laugh was vulgar and evil. His foul breath spread over her face once again like a disgusting green cloud. “If you deny me my marital privileges, I can have you jailed. You don’t want that do you?” He hissed the words into her ear as his rotund body lay atop her, tightly holding her arms extended over her head.

  For a man that looked like a loaf of unbaked bread, he had amazing strength. He gripped her so tightly she temporarily lost feeling in her fingers. She was an animal trapped in a snare. There was no escape, so she had no choice but to resign herself to her new situation.

  Once they began their life in New Orleans, he spared no expense in pampering and spoiling his little princess, but kept her locked away like a bird in a gilded cage, away from the public’s eyes and ears in case she should attempt to elicit help in escaping her elegant prison. He also hired a governess to teach her how to speak properly, how to dance, use proper table manners, and to conduct herself like a lady of high society, so she would not be an embarrassment to him on the rare occasions they were seen in public.

  In time, she found that if she downed several glasses of whiskey before he came to her, fulfilling her disgusting marital privileges was almost tolerable. Having had no previous experience at sex, she had no comparison, but she wondered why everyone seemed to be so obsessed with this disgusting deed if this was what it entailed. She wondered how sick his mind must be to conjure up such perverse things.

  Darcy wondered what her Puritanical mother would think of their bargain now if she knew what this man was doing to her daughter. Resentment toward her parents welled up inside her like a fountain of bitter gall.

  Fortunately, his voracious sexual appetite began to wane within the first year of marriage. His repertoire of dozens of pet names and his gushing professions of love and admiration nauseated her, but she said nothing. Instead, she just bathed her conscience with ever-increasing amounts of numbing amber liquid and waited for each day to give way to the next while hoping, always hoping, that something would happen to change her situation.

  One day, after she had been married about a year, it seemed her wish almost came true when Edgar arrived with a new servant girl. A lovely mulatto named Eva James. He had purchased her from a saloon owner in New Orleans. She was to be Darcy’s personal maid.

  The girls were around the same age and were both in situations over which they had no control, so they soon became fast friends. Eva had learned to play cards while owned by a saloonkeeper. Along with emptying spittoons, waiting tables, and more, she was expected to play poker with the patrons, get them drunk, and get them to spend their money anyway she could.

  After coming to the Higgins’ household, she taught Darcy how to play poker and found her new mistress a very astute pupil. Each day they spent hours playing cards together, sharing stories, and reveling in ‘girl talk’ while Darcy became more and more proficient at the game.

  Not long after Eva’s arrival, Darcy noticed Edgar seemed quite interested in the girl, and he visited Darcy’s room less and less. Eva became strangely nervous and shy around Darcy, so she asked the girl point blank if she was sleeping with Edgar.

  In answer, Eva began to cry.

  “Oui madam. I don’t want to, but he come to me late in the night and tol’ me how he had to have me or he would just die. He say I dare not refuse him, kinda mean like, so I didn’t make a fuss. Then he started showing up again and again. I am so ashamed because you are my friend, madam, and he is your husband. I don’t want you mad with me, but I don’t know how to stop him. I don’t want him there at all, at all.”

  Darcy laughed out loud at Eva’s confession, much to the girl’s surprise and distress.

  “Oh, Eva. You are not betraying me! This marriage is a farce. He purchased me like he purchased you. He makes me sick, and I do not care what he does or with whom, but I am sorry you too must endure his disgusting mauling. Now, don’t worry about being disloyal to me for bedding the old bastard.” Darcy grasped both of Eva’s hands and held them tightly in reassurance.

  “Oh, that make me so happy, madam.” The servant girl sighed with relief. “I afraid you be mad and maybe beat me or throw me out the house.” Eva smiled through her tears.

  “Oh, Eva, I wish there was a way I could get both of us out of here! I truly believe he is insane. Well, don’t worry. You and I will just stick together no mat
ter what, okay? Now let’s play some poker!” Darcy laughed, and the worry lines eased from Eva’s young face.

  That was six years ago. As time wore on, she continued to succumb to Edgar’s sexual demands, all the while knowing Eva was suffering the same fate. Over the years, she began to develop a tolerance for this disgusting little man, like one tolerates an unrelenting toothache or a constant, inescapable pain.

  He lorded his ownership over her as further torture, while he strutted around like a pompous king in his castle. No reminder was necessary, as she could never forget for a millisecond that she was a prisoner in a loveless torture chamber, albeit a lavishly decorated one containing all the finest things money could buy. He indulged her with an expensive wardrobe of beautiful gowns, jewels galore, gourmet meals, and a bevy of servants as compensation for granting his bizarre requests. Darcy had come to take them in stride, knowing there was no escaping her situation. If she thought long enough and hard enough, she guessed she could consider herself lucky compared to the various courses her life could have taken.

  Now Edgar was gone! She was free…and thrilled, and thankful beyond words.

  Her bombarded mind was reeling from all that had happened since arriving back home, and with dozens of questions without answers. Why was her husband dead? Who killed him? What would happen to her now? Was her life in danger, too? Why did the police suspect her of murder? Her wealth, her status, her home, her entire life was as fragile as a dandelion in the wind. She must find out about Edgar’s will before she could make any plans. Tomorrow I shall contact his lawyer. I think I remember his name. I hope the police don’t return with more questions.

  The next day as Darcy and Eva were walking downtown to the lawyer’s office, they saw Detective Gant crossing the street in front of them. Seeing the two women, he turned and approached them. Eva held a parasol high above her and Darcy’s heads to protect them from the raging summer sun. Darcy was hot and perspiring, and in no mood to deal with this detective again.

 

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