Ashley took a long breath. Jesus Christ, is five thousand doubloons enough? I should think so! It's a bloody fortune! But how can I get my hands on it... without getting a wife hung around my neck? Or rather how can Morgan do it?
To give himself time to think, he took out a thin cigarillo, lighted it, and puffed a few minutes, staring out into space. Not wishing to appear too eager, and yet unwilling to let this unexpected opportunity slip by, Ashley said slowly, "I might consider it."
Flicking an ash from his cigarillo he went on, "Of course, it depends on your granddaughter. If we are to become relatives, perhaps I should first know something about the woman I may marry."
Relieved and yet finding this conversation strangely distasteful, Claude proceeded to tell him about Leonie. He did not of course, explain the true state of the Saint-Andre fortunes and tended to dwell more on Leonie's many attributes: her youth, her beauty, and her docile manner—the latter a blatant lie.
In spite of himself Ashley was intrigued, but he was also smart enough to realize that if the girl was everything her grandfather claimed and if he was as wealthy as he appeared to be, suitors would be fighting madly for her hand. So why did the old man want Morgan?
Letting that particular question wait for a moment, and needing to know if there really was some way he could profit by this meeting, Ashley asked smoothly, "If you and I come to agreement, say this evening, how soon would you wish the marriage to take place? Do you want a long engagement? Or is there some reason for urgency? And when would you turn over the dowry?"
There was something about this affair that was bothering Claude, but he couldn't put his finger on it. During their earlier meetings, Monsieur Morgan had not seemed either cold-blooded or mercenary, and Claude was troubled, wondering if he had greatly misjudged his man. But Ashley, as if sensing he was not imitating Morgan very well, suddenly flashed Claude a charming smile and murmured, "How very businesslike this must seem to you. Believe me, I am not normally so blunt, but then," with a depreciating gesture, "no one has ever offered me his granddaughter in marriage before."
Some of Claude's misgivings abated. Smiling warmly across at the handsome young man, he replied, "And I have never acted as a marriage broker before—so, we are even, non?" Feeling a little more at ease, Claude answered candidly, "I will be truthful with you, monsieur... if I could arrange the marriage for tomorrow I would! And the gold will be paid to you the day you marry my Leonie."
Ashley let out his breath in a whistle of surprise and asked curiously, "Why are you in such a hurry to see the girl married?"
Claude's face tightened and he said stiffly, "The number of my days are set. When I die, Leonie will be alone in the world. I should like to go to my grave knowing that her future is secure."
"I see," Ashley replied slowly, his cunning brain busily assessing how best to use this information. He might just be able to get his hands on the gold and get rid of the girl, he thought with growing confidence. Sending Claude a wide smile, he said affably, "I know you would like an answer immediately, but I must have some time to consider your proposition." A note of cajolery in his deep voice, he added, "The decision to give up one's freedom should not be made lightly." Glancing at the gold watch he took from a small pocket of his embroidered yellow vest, Ashley suggested, "Give me a few hours to think about our discussion. Would it be convenient to call upon you this evening at your home?"
Claude nodded, for some reason not as elated as he had thought he would be if Monsieur Slade had seemed agreeable to the proposition. Monsieur Slade was not reacting as Claude had imagined he would, nor did Claude find him quite so charming and impressive as he had at the governor's. I must be getting old, he told himself. The young man was certainly handsome in an arrogant way, his dark blue eyes gleaming brightly in the dark, handsome face, but Claude had found the face far more attractive when they had played cards than he did now. Sighing at his own lack of enthusiasm for what had been his most longed for accomplishment, Claude said aloud, "If you could come to call at, er... say, nine this evening?" And at Ashley's nod, he added, "If you give a favorable reply, I will introduce you to my granddaughter at that time."
Again Ashley nodded, inwardly aware of a feeling of smug satisfaction. By God, if I have my way, that gold will be in my hands before the week is out—and I'll be on a ship for England!
The two men parted, Claude to return to the house on Toulouse Street and Ashley to make some discreet inquiries about Claude Saint-Andre. What he heard made him smile nastily and understand why Saint-Andre had chosen to approach a stranger. No one, it seemed, wanted to shoulder the Saint-Andre debts, which were scattered indiscriminately throughout the city. And no one, it seemed, had ever heard of the five thousand doubloons.
When Leonie was informed that there was a distinct possibility that she would meet her future husband within a matter of hours, she was torn between tears and fury. The day had brought her little solace, her body and mind still in a state bordering on shock after last night's assault. With the rape still raw in her mind, to be faced with a prospective husband was almost more than she could bear, and for one wild moment she considered running away. But then, her fiery mettle and valiant spirit came surging up, and Leonie knew she could never run away from any fight. She would face this man and, somehow, find a way to save herself, Yvette, and her grandfather in spite of himself.
Without enthusiasm, she allowed Yvette to arrange her hair in a neat cornet of braids, and then Leonie reluctantly put on the apricot gown she had worn the day before when she had quarreled with her grandfather. It was her only decent gown and it fit her young figure admirably, the high waist and straight, slim skirt giving her a regal air. Slippers of white satin were on her feet, and Yvette, a born romantic, had insisted that Leonie let her pin a spring of jasmine in the tawny hair.
Viewing herself in the spotted mirror in her room, she stuck out her tongue at her image. "Bah! It doesn't matter what I look like—it is only the dowry that interests Monsieur Slade!"
She couldn't have been more correct. The dowry drew Ashley like a shark after blood. Having decided that if the gold did exist, he might as well have it as Morgan. Ashley presented himself at the Saint-Andre townhouse at nine that evening. What did it matter to him, if Saint-Andre owed a mountain of debt? He wouldn't be around when the truth was discovered—Morgan would be! Let him sort out the problem!
Inquiries into the state of Monsieur Saint-Andre's finances had not been all that Ashley had seen to in the short time since he had bid Claude good-bye. A quick check of the ships in the port of New Orleans had revealed that the Scarlet Angel would sail for England the following Friday, just one week away, and he intended to be on her—with a trunk full of gold!
Consequently, Ashley was at his most charming, adroitly soothing Claude's growing suspicions that Monsieur Slade was not the man he had first thought him. The two men conversed in the room with the cream carpet, and burgundy chairs and drapes, the only elegant room in the house; in the soft candlelight, the obvious deficiencies were hardly noticeable.
Despite his earlier reservations, Claude was delighted when Ashley, with a nice air of deference, conceded that if Monsieur Saint-Andre found him suitable, then he would be honored to marry his granddaughter, and just as soon as Monsieur Saint-Andre could arrange it. The two men drank a toast with a bottle of excellent French brandy that had been saved for just such a momentous occasion, each feeling very pleased with the bargain.
Leonie wasn't. Ushered into the room a few minutes later there was a rebellious sparkle in the sea-green eyes and a determined slant to the small, firm chin. There had to be a way out of this coil and she was going to find it even if it meant throwing herself on Monsieur Slade's mercy!
Ashley was enchanted with the appealing sight she made in her apricot gown, the candlelight turning her hair the color of fine golden sherry. It really was a shame he hadn't the time for dalliance—and for a brief moment he actually considered the possibility of taking his
supposed bride to England with him. But then, with a mental shrug, he dismissed the idea, too aware of the pitfalls in such a scheme. He was running a great risk as it was, so why risk more?
Leonie disliked Ashley on sight. Prejudiced against him by the fact that she was being forced to marry him in the first place, she saw more clearly the dissipation that marred his face than did Claude. The assessing blue eyes beneath the heavy black brows did not cause her heart to beat with pleasure, nor did the full sensuous mouth with its indulgent curve make her wonder how it would feel against hers—after last night she was quite, quite certain she never wanted a man's mouth on hers again. He was handsome in a rakish sort of way, she conceded, but there was nothing about him that made her want to marry him.
Claude beamed when they were introduced, and Leonie, mindful of her manners, suffered Monsieur Slade to take her small hand in his and gently brush his lips across it. Looking at Claude, Ashley asked affectedly, "May I keep this lovely little hand, monsieur?"
Despite the gravity of the situation, Leonie glanced quickly away and had to bite her lip to keep from giggling. Mon Dieu! How silly!
Claude was charmed. Smiling genially at the tall young man standing so close to Leonie, he said graciously, "Nothing would give me greater pleasure than to have you do so, Monsieur Slade."
Ashley turned to look into Leonie's face, his hard blue eyes wandering almost possessively over her features. "And you, my dear, will you accept me as your husband?" Ashley asked. The words were mere formality as far as he was concerned, as the girl would obviously do as her grandfather wished—and he could almost feel the gold in his hands! Certainly he hadn't expected an answer—a blush, or a shy glance or a small nod was the most he expected by way of reply. Unfortunately he didn't know the mettle of the young lady in front of him and her words came as an unpleasant shock.
Unwilling to meekly submit to fate, a defiant expression flickering over the sultry features, Leonie replied cooly, "Non! Why should I?"
Ashley was clearly taken aback and Claude was furious. "Leonie!" he thundered. "Have you forgotten our conversation about Yvette?"
Leonie's defiance wavered. But then her mouth set mulishly, although there was a wary glint in her eyes, and she said with composure, "Non, grand-pere. But before I accept Monsieur Slade's offer, I think I should be allowed to speak with him privately. It is only fair, n'est-ce pas?"
Both men appeared decidedly uneasy but for entirely different reasons. Claude was aware that Leonie was going to fight every inch of the way to the altar in spite of her earlier capitulation, so he didn't trust her—with good reason. As for Ashley, he was infuriated. How dare this little slip of a girl upset his plans? He was counting on that money and the pleasure of bedding his innocent bride before he sailed for England, and it was a most aggravating surprise to discover that there might be some impediment to his plans.
Knowing how stubborn his granddaughter could be, and yet unwilling to meet her head on when things were moving so smoothly, Claude reluctantly acceded to her request. "Very well. It is proper and only right that you have a few minutes alone with your husband-to-be. But"—his face darkening and the threat of retribution obvious in the brown eyes, he ended harshly, "do not forget what I promised you! And, Leonie, I shall do it, if you deny me this."
Leonie's mouth tightened. "Of course. Now, may I speak with Monsieur Slade... alone?"
One fist clenched helplessly, but not willing to continue the argument in front of a stranger, Claude gave in. Looking apologetically across to the silent Ashley, he murmured, "She is a bit headstrong occasionally, you understand? And perhaps it would be best if you have a few words with her without my presence. I shall return shortly."
Leonie hadn't known what she was going to do with her few minutes of privacy with the monsieur, but it gained her a moment to think. Her thoughts were not pleasant, and deciding that the only way she could escape this marriage was for Monsieur Slade to withdraw his offer, Leonie swung in Ashley's direction and burst out, "Monsieur, I mean you no insult, but I have no wish whatsoever to marry you!" Her eyes very big and pleading, she begged, "Could you please tell my grand-pere that you do not think we will suit, after all? Please? It is very important to me."
Rather thoughtfully, Ashley regarded her. It was apparent she was not the docile creature her grandfather had led him to believe. It was also apparent the grandfather held some threat over her. Now, how might he make that work for himself? Wishing to know more about the situation and playing for time in the process, he asked bluntly, "Are you in love with someone else? Someone your grandfather does not approve of?"
Leonie let a small smile flit across her face. "Non, monsieur, I just do not wish to marry." Anxiously she added, "You do understand?"
Ashley didn't, but he relaxed slightly. At least there wasn't some annoying puppy in the picture, he thought slowly. And if the chit was telling the truth and it was a case of her simply resisting the idea of marriage, it was possible he could still get his hands on the gold. A coaxing note in his voice he said, "I would make no demands upon you, my dear. Your life would change hardly at all. Why, the only difference would be that you would have my name and I would have your dowry." Seeing that he had her attention and that she appeared to be actually considering what he was saying, he expanded further, "It would truly be a marriage of convenience between us. You could live here in Louisiana, and I would spend my time in Natchez. It would be a strictly business arrangement."
The expression in the cat-shaped eyes thoughtful, Leonie asked, "Why marry at all then?"
Realizing that a certain amount of honesty has its uses, Ashley took a gamble and admitted blandly, "Well, you see, I don't really wish to marry either."
"Then why offer for me?" she asked reasonably. And as Ashley hesitated, cursing her forthright manner, her eyes suddenly widened with sympathy, and with a note of awe in her voice, she inquired, "Are you, too, being forced to marry?"
Seizing upon the reason offered by her innocent question and playing upon the sympathy evident in the small face, Ashley contrived to look both embarrassed and appealing as he muttered, "That's exactly the case, my dear! My father has cut me off without any funds until I return to Natchez with a bride."
"But if we do not live together, how will marrying me satisfy him?"
Hurrying to cover the mistake, he rushed, "Well, actually I don't have to precisely present you to him, just inform him that I have married... and a copy of the marriage certificate would be sufficient." He smiled conspiratorially, "He never said anything about having to live with my bride... just that I acquire one."
"And you find me suitable?" Leonie asked in a dry voice.
"Why not?" Ashley returned easily. "You have a commendable dowry, and"—he let his eyes glow with appreciation and just a hint of desire—"I find you very beautiful. I must admit it was your availability and your dowry that first interested me, but having met you and seen your loveliness, I find that I—"
Leonie snorted in the face of his compliments. "Bah! Monsieur, I liked you better when you were honest. Do not, I beg you, talk foolishness!"
His face hardening, Ashley crushed the urge to slap her. Little bitch! Who did she think she was, snubbing him that way? Growing angry with the situation, feeling that Claude had entirely misled him about the docility of his granddaughter and furious at the thought of the gold slipping through his fingers, he snapped pettily, "Then, what do you suggest?"
For a moment Leonie hesitated, the barest glimmer of an idea coming to her. It might work, provided this Monsieur Slade meant everything he had said so far. Deciding she had nothing to lose and a great deal to gain, she said slowly, "Monsieur, neither of us wishes to marry... but for various reasons it would be to our advantage to do so, oui?"
Ashley's eyes narrowed in speculation and he nodded.
"Then, monsieur, I propose a bargain to you. We will marry as my grand-pere wishes, but—" and she held up her hand at Ashley's broad smile—"it will be a true marr
iage of convenience." The little face suddenly grim and haunted, she said, "You must promise me that you will make no demands upon me whatsoever, and that we will live separately, as you said earlier."
Ashley shrugged his shoulders. Why not? What did it matter to him? One week from today he had every intention of sailing for England... if he got his hands on the gold. Aloud he agreed, "But of course, my dear. As soon as we are wedded, I will return immediately to Natchez to inform my father." His brain leaping, he added, "We will tell your grandfather that my journey up river to Natchez is to prepare for the arrival of my bride. For his information, we will say I plan to return in the shortest possible time to fetch you. How does that sound to you?"
Leonie sent him an approving smile, tamping down the faint hint of guilt she felt in deceiving her grandfather. "Bon! That would do very well, I think." Her gaze suddenly uncertain, she began slowly, "Monsieur, this is a difficult subject for me, but it is one I feel I must discuss with you." At Ashley's encouraging look, she took a deep breath and said with an embarrassed but determined rush, "I will have need of my dowry eventually, and I do not believe it is fair that, for merely lending me your name, you should keep it forever. After all, you are a rich young man, and you have as much need of me as I have of you. Why should you keep my dowry too?"
His feeling of smug satisfaction fading once more, and not liking this turn of events, he demanded, "What exactly do you suggest?"
Leonie frowned, trying to figure out a scrupulously fair bargain. "I suggest, monsieur, that you consider the dowry a loan. You may have it for a certain period of time, but at the end of that time, you will repay me, oui?" And at the balky look on Ashley's face, she continued, "It is only fair—I will make no demands upon you, and you will have the use of the money for the time being." Leonie felt she had offered him a more than fair exchange. She didn't believe he should have her dowry at all, but then she acknowledged that he was going to provide her with an escape from grand-pere's edict and she was willing to pay him for his troubles. Granted, he was also gaining, but knowing he could have the choice of any number of young women, she wished to make the bargain as appealing as possible.
Deceive Not My Heart Page 9