Skye Cameron

by Phyllis A. Whitney

  Lobelia whispered in my ear. “We have roulette downstairs—that’s what they’re playing there now. Faro’s on the second floor, and keno on the third. Of course we have private rooms too, where a gentleman may have a quiet game of poker or vingt-et-un, or even blackjack, which the Americans brought in. Every now and then somebody gets the notion that it’s all against the law. But they never keep us shut up for long.”

  A group of men on the far side of the table moved apart and I gasped. Courtney Law was setting a stack of chips before him, and I saw his face, flushed as if with wine, and his unsteady hands.

  I turned from the peephole and whispered urgently to Lobelia. “He’s been drinking and he’ll gamble himself into further debt to my uncle. Do you suppose I could see him for a moment?”

  She didn’t like the idea, but at my insistence she took me back to her elaborate parlor and let me wait there for Courtney, while she sent a servant to fetch him.

  When Courtney came into the room he started at the sight of me.

  “Skye, what are you doing here? This is no place—”

  “What are you doing here?” I broke in. “What will it serve you to put yourself still further in Uncle Robert’s debt? But since I am here, you can’t let me leave unescorted. Will you please take me home now?”

  By his own code, he could do nothing else. Mrs. Pollock saw us somewhat derisively to the door, pressed the further loan of the veil upon me, and we left L’Oiseau d’Or together. Lest Courtney be too curious, I prodded him at once with questions of my own.

  “Have you talked to Justin lately? Has he said anything further about plans for you?”

  Courtney nodded unhappily as we made our way along Royal Street. “He told me this morning. The new office is waiting on the Ohio River. He has our train tickets, and arrangements for us at the other end. He is being most efficient about getting me out of town, this brother of mine.”

  “Don’t resent his help,” I said. “We can pay him back later. This is the only thing we can do now.”

  Courtney walked stiffly beside me, his gaze fixed straight ahead. “How can I face your uncle, Skye? He will be angry, and with reason. He wants only what is for our own good. I think you do not altogether understand this. After all he has done for me, after all his past kindness, am I to take a step that will estrange me from him forever?”

  I was coming to see Courtney more clearly by now. Always he would be inclined to drift a little with the tide. It would make him happy if he could please everyone, oppose no one. But life seldom permitted such a course and I knew I would have to be the stronger of the two. I, who had always admired men with iron in their natures, would have to lead a man who was made of far softer metal.

  “We can’t stay here and live as Uncle Robert wants us to,” I said reasonably. “And you need not talk to him about any of this, Courtney. Leave it to me. I’ll see him soon and make it all clear to him.”

  This seemed to reassure him a little and he turned to me in some relief, covered my hand in the crook of his arm. Now I could smell the odor of wine on his breath as he bent toward me.

  “You are an amazing girl, Skye,” he mused. “From the first you have interested me because you are so different from any girls I have known. I am sure, chérie, that we will come to care for each other.”

  Somehow this was more alarming than his indifference. I had to contain a sudden desire to snatch my hand from his arm, to run away from him. In a few weeks this young man would be my husband and if I were to feel such revulsion toward him at the slightest touch, how could I bear this marriage which I had promised myself must be a good one?

  “Your broken heart heals easily,” I said, no longer kind.

  He looked hurt and I felt sorry for him. Always he fought confusion within himself, being torn in many ways. At least the words he had spoken to me were an effort in the right direction. I tried to smile and forced myself not to shrink against the feeling of his warm fingers clasped about my own.

  I was relieved when he left me at the Tourneau gate. We did not want anyone to ask where we had been, or how we had met. But now I meant to waste no more time about making Uncle Robert understand and accept our plans.

  That night when I asked to speak with him, he was in a well-disposed mood. Indeed, he told me, he would be happy to discuss whatever I liked. Tomorrow afternoon he would come upstairs and give me as much time as I pleased in the seclusion of his study.

  The hours before that talk with my uncle I spent in a state of apprehension. I knew the things I must say to him. Even though I was not entirely sure about Courtney, I must make it seem that neither Courtney nor I could be shaken from the course we planned. I must tell Uncle Robert that if he threatened to put my father and mother out of his house, then we would simply take them with us. When we reached the town where Justin was placing us, they could live in our home. This might be difficult for all of us. It would be far better if we could begin our married life alone and have my parents join us later when our adjustments to each other had been made. But at least this was a way of disarming Uncle Robert.

  I tried to think reasonably of these things, but every time I faced the reality of being Courtney’s wife, something sickened within me. How was I to live through this wedding, when I wanted only to be Justin’s wife? How was I to endure this new life? Now, more than ever, escape from New Orleans became imperative. It would be hard for me anywhere. But in New Orleans it would be impossible.

  The next day dawned still and hot. A luminous yellow haze lay upon the city and the air seemed heavy and difficult to breathe. Aunt Natalie told me it was storm-brewing weather. September, she said, was the time for storms in New Orleans and probably there was a disturbance now out over the Gulf.

  I found myself more nervous and tense than ever and I could hardly be still. My mother’s guileless ways, and Isabelle’s limp dejection, both set my teeth on edge and I hoped this weather would not have an equally nerve-tensing effect on Uncle Robert.

  It was midafternoon when he came upstairs to his study and sent Delphine for me. The moment I stepped into the room I knew that he was extremely pleased about something. He was in much too benign a mood to set me at ease. As he placed me gallantly in a chair near his desk, I saw that for once the silver cover had been left off the chessboard.

  Uncle Robert did not refer to the game, but my eyes were drawn to the board in fascination. There were only a handful of men left upon the checkered squares and Black’s position was plain. One more move and the white king would be in check. The game was already over.

  I forced my attention from the chessmen and looked my uncle full in the face. There was no purpose in hesitating, and I must not falter.

  “I wish to tell you about the plans Courtney and I are making for immediately after the wedding.”

  Uncle Robert stroked his beard in great good humor. “Ah, yes, my dear. You will, of course, come straight home to this house where you may stay in seclusion for a suitable length of time. Naturally, a newly wedded couple does not go out, or receive calls for the first weeks of their marriage.”

  This, I knew, was the Creole custom. But it was not for me.

  “I’m sorry, Uncle Robert,” I said evenly, “but Courtney and I will be leaving for the North at once. Justin has already obtained our tickets and all arrangements have been made.”

  He did not seem in the least disturbed and that in itself was ominous. “So? I thought it must be some foolishness of this sort about which you wished to speak to me. But it is not possible, of course.”

  “If you think you can hold the matter of caring for my father over my head,” I began, sounding angrier than I intended, “—if you think your threat to put him out—”

  He did not let me continue. “Threat? That is a strong word. Naturally I shall not put your father out of my house.” He spoke as innocently as though the thought had never occurred to him. “But you must understand, Skye, that your benefactor—M’sieu Justin Law—” his tone was derisi
ve, “will not after all be able to aid you as he had planned.”

  “But he is aiding us!” I cried.

  Uncle Robert shook his head gently. Never had his voice sounded more musical. “My dear, you delude yourself. When I have talked to him, he will proceed no further. There is one thing in the world that this man wants above all else. The possession of his son. He has been searching for him without success. Now that he has found him, he will do anything to take the boy into his own charge. And he may have him—for a price. Part of the price, naturally, will be that he does not interfere with my plans for you and Courtney.”

  I could only stare at my uncle helplessly. Now I was beginning to see his purpose. It was as if chains had been locked suddenly about me, leaving me incapable of speaking or moving.

  Uncle Robert raised his head alertly, listening to steps in the hallway. “They must be here now,” he said. “We will be able to work this out most amicably together, my dear. I’ve invited M’sieu Law to come this afternoon—for a business call only. And I have asked Courtney to bring him upstairs.”

  Courtney’s knock sounded on the study door and my uncle called, “Entrez!” in his most cordial tone.

  I sat stiffly where I was, hardly daring to look at Justin until he was well into the room. When my eyes met his I felt the old pain go through me more sharply than ever. His face was a mask, without emotion, and he looked at me as though he did not know me. But now I knew the look meant only that he must hide what he felt. Uncle Robert made no offer of his hand. He indicated a chair and after a moment’s hesitation Justin sat down opposite me. But Courtney would not sit. He remained uneasily standing.

  My eyes strayed once more to the chessboard. The men were set for the final play. In a moment my uncle would lift his hand and move the Black. White would be checked and the game finished. I, who was no more than a pawn, sat in silence, seeing the play, the end of the game, as clearly ordained as it was upon the chessboard.

  TWENTY-FOUR

  As I watched in silent apprehension, the game came to life before my eyes.

  Uncle Robert toyed, as he had done before, with a slender ivory paper knife, and I was reminded of the day when he had taken a dueling sword from the wall and whipped through a few movements. How romantic I had thought him! Now he dueled with words, punctuating what he had to say with little stabs of the ivory knife, and our very lives were being attacked.

  “M’sieu Law,” he began, “I have asked you here to meet with my niece and with your brother because I am unhappy over rumors of your meddling with their plans. My plans. I shall make my position clear at once. It has been my long intention that Courtney enter my law firm when he is ready, and later advance to a partnership. He has been like a son to me.” He turned a benevolent look upon Courtney, who flushed. “It gives me great satisfaction that he is marrying my niece, Skye, and that the two of them will make their home here in my house.”

  Justin spoke quietly. “As I understand it, Courtney has other plans. It’s my desire to help him in what he wants to do. The planning is not altogether in your hands.”

  “Ah, m’sieu, but that is where you are mistaken.” Uncle Robert raised the bit of ivory and tapped his thumbnail with it thoughtfully. “I believe you are not in a position to influence Courtney’s future.”

  “What do you mean?” Justin asked directly.

  “Only that I hold the means of checking any move you make which does not please me. In other words—your son.”

  “I shall take my son,” Justin said.

  “By force? I think not, m’sieu.”

  Justin shook his head. “Not by force. By law.”

  Uncle Robert remained unperturbed. “That would be foolish indeed. No court would take him from a mother who is so plainly in a position to give him good care, thanks to my interest in the boy. He is a distant relative and I am happy to aid one of my own family. There is also the matter of the scandal such a struggle would make in the courts. Do you wish the boy to suffer for the things you have done in the past? Do you wish to bring such shame upon him that he will never again hold up his head in this town?”

  “The past is scarcely a secret,” Justin said.

  “It is an old secret. People will be willing to forget, to accept the new order. But they will not if you drag your dirty linen through the public press.”

  I saw Justin’s hands tighten on the arms of his chair. Courtney had moved restlessly away from us, taking no part in this fencing, but now he turned to watch intently.

  “Of course,” my uncle added, “you do not have to stay in New Orleans, M’sieu Law.”

  “I choose to stay in New Orleans,” Justin said. “This is my home. I intend to raise my son here and I intend to live in my father’s house in the Garden District.”

  My uncle waved the little knife at him in reproach. “You are a stubborn man. If you want your son, you will have to gain his possession by a different method.”

  “Now we get to the point,” Justin said. “Suppose you tell me just what this bargain is that you offer me.”

  “Very well, you will cease to meddle in your brother’s affairs, of course. You will return the house in the Garden District to your mother’s name. You will take your wife and your son and leave New Orleans. There is all of America for you to live in and what you do when you leave this city does not concern me. Providing you never return.”

  I could not read the guarded expression on Justin’s face. Perhaps he was not a good enough chess player to know when he had been finally checked. But I knew and my heart ached for him. And for myself as well.

  “I will never agree to give up my father’s home,” Justin said, as if there were still a chance for him to bargain. “You have carried the support of that house and of my mother for long enough. I am happy to take care of both myself.”

  Uncle Robert’s slender hand moved in the light from the window as he laid the paper knife carefully on the desk beside him. “That will not be necessary. Your mother has been happy in my care. And I have been glad to assume the duties of her nearest relative.”

  “Was it because of this relationship that my father put the handling of his fortune in your hands? That he left it with you in trusts when he was forced to leave New Orleans?”

  “Fortune,” Uncle Robert echoed blandly, “is hardly the term for what was left in my hands. But we were friends and it was natural for him to trust me.”

  “In spite of the fact that he had married the woman you had hoped to marry?” said Justin.

  Courtney moved in the shadows of the room, came to stand beside me. He looked angry now, but his anger was directed at his brother.

  Uncle Robert answered smoothly enough. “Rather, let us say, that he trusted me for that very reason. He knew that because of my affection for Mademoiselle Aurore LeMaitre, I would be true to this trust as long as she or I lived.”

  “And you have been true to it, M’sieu Robert,” Courtney said quickly. “This man does not understand Creole honor.”

  “That’s where you’re wrong,” said Justin quickly. “I understand any man’s honor and respect it. My father—your father, Courtney—was a good and honorable man. A man who trusted his friends and would never have believed one of them could betray him.”

  “May I ask what inference you are making?” Uncle Robert said coldly.

  “All in good time. Though I believe you may be able to guess. May I ask what became of the money left for my mother in your hands?”

  “But certainly.” Uncle Robert was curt. “I have kept careful records of the entire transaction. The money went into the purchase of Confederate bonds. Where else would a good Southerner have placed money at that time? My own much larger fortune went the same way.”

  “What of investments in England?” Justin said.

  There was a faint hesitation on my uncle’s part. Then he answered readily enough.

  “Indeed, there was such an investment made. A small one, I assure you. It is that which still gives Auror
e the tiny income she has. It is scarcely enough to support her and her son.”

  “It may interest you to know,” said Justin quietly, “that I have been able to uncover certain information in this city. With some difficulty, I assure you, due to a fire which caused the destruction of records. But not all were destroyed, as you may have believed, sir. My father, who had no faith in the Southern cause in spite of his great love for the South, took precautions so that only a moderate sum was left in your hands for my mother’s care during the war. The rest was invested in England, where it would be safe from being wasted on Confederate bonds. Not until the war was over were you to have control of that money for her benefit.”

  Courtney made a choked sound, but neither man looked at him. Uncle Robert rose to his feet, his face livid with anger.

  “Monsieur, do you have the audacity to call me a liar?”

  Justin remained coolly in his chair. “My father was foolishly trusting as I say. He was born to money and had made it easily. He expected to make more in Colorado. When he was rich again after the war, he hoped to return to New Orleans and clear his name of the spy charge. In the meantime he had the comfort of knowing that his wife and son were well cared for. As indeed they have been. But they have been made to grovel for every penny. They have been made to feel indebted to you, as they were never truly indebted.”

  My uncle put one hand to his throat as if he were choking, but Justin went on relentlessly.

  “My mother and my brother have been held in your power, while you in the beginning recouped your own losses and reinstated yourself as a man of wealth, using the money which had been safely invested in England and which was available to you in your power of attorney after the war. You appropriated my father’s shipping concern without payment to my mother for it and she did not understand what happened. If Courtney marries your niece, the circle will be well closed. Even discovery could not destroy you then, for Courtney would never act against you. In the beginning there would have been no whisper of a spy charge against my father, if you had not instigated it in a successful effort to send him out of town. Indeed, sir, I call you a liar, a cheat and a thief. And I think you will not hold my son from me.”