by Jackie Ivie
“They don’t understand the role I’ve been playing. The one that kept me safe. You know anything about that? Role-playing? And keeping safe?”
Cord didn’t reply to that either. Rex sighed heavily.
“I made planning and cunning a way of life, and then I perfected them. I started doing it the moment I woke up aboard that ship. The moment.”
“So?” Cord asked.
“I was aiming for vengeance. Complete, blood-letting vengeance. The kind that couldn’t get a man’s soul out of hell if the devil kicked him out. And for that I had to have Liz-Beth in my control. It wasn’t easy. I had to steal her. I had to quiet her, and I had to keep from killing her until I was good and ready to.”
“You wanted to…kill her?”
“Wouldn’t you? I thought she’d betrayed me. She near took my ears off. You know how difficult it is to woo a woman if she’s angered enough to take your head off?”
“Uh…I’ve had a bit of experience along that line,” Cord answered.
Rex’s lips twitched. “So I heard,” he replied.
“What happened almost destroyed me, Mister Larket. I was left with two small children, a burned home...a body they said was my husband, and no one to turn to. I found out one truth though. Life is short, true love hits only the luckiest, and it can’t survive hate.” Rex’s wife said it softly and looked up at him with those slanted golden brown eyes.
“The name’s Cord,” he replied finally.
“And you must call me Elizabeth. Until a suitable substitute for that comes along.” She laughed. It was an enchanting sound. He knew what was different now. Rex Fletcher wasn’t carrying around a ton of hate anymore.
He turned back to Fletcher. “Why are you telling me all of this?”
Rex shrugged. “I don’t know. Entertainment, maybe.”
Cord glared. “You know, I’m tired of being entertainment. I think it’s time for me to go.”
“Oh, tell him, Rex,” Elizabeth said.
Cord looked from one to the other. It felt like they were having some private argument, although neither said a word. She finally turned to him.
“It’s about my children, Cord.”
“I’ll tell him, Liz-Beth. You go and find something to do now. He’s in good hands. I’ll tell him.”
“You promise?”
“Of course.”
Cord watched her move to the door, look him up and down, then smile that large brilliant smile again. She moved her gaze over to her husband. “I just might forgive you after all,” she said and left them.
“What was that about?” Cord asked after the door was shut.
“Sit down. You’re too large to remain standing in such a frilly room.”
“Not your selection?’
“I gave her too much gold, not enough instruction, and too much time. It also gave her something to do rather than fret and nag at me. She’s rather annoyed with a few things I’ve done. Not without reason. Sit down. I’m not going to ask it again.”
He sat.
“You’re aware the Larroque Plantation foreman is my son, Drew?”
Cord gave him an absolute blank look. He wasn’t about to talk about how much he itched to feel Drew’s neck between his fingers, especially since the overseer seemed to be laughing and grinning at him all the time anymore.
“His full name is Vincent Andrew Fletcher. He dropped the Vincent. He’ll not use it again. It’s a shame. It was my father’s name. He’s getting my estate.”
“I really have to go. My wife is probably looking for me.”
“We’ll get around to her. In time.”
Cord raised a brow but didn’t reply.
“I have a habit of interfering in my children’s lives, Cord.”
Cord tried not to smile. “You interfere in everyone’s business.”
“True enough. I’ve really interfered in my children’s lives though. Meaning I have more than one.”
“Children is usually plural. I suspected as much.”
Rex sighed. “I’ve a daughter that’s married to an evil son-of-a-bitch.”
“I heard that,” Elizabeth called from the other side of the door.
“In my own words, woman,” he growled back.
Cord looked from Fletch to the door and back again.
“Want some scotch?” Cord watched as Rex opened his desk drawer and pulled out a bottle. He filled a teacup and handed it across. Cord took it.
“Where was I?” Rex asked.
“The evil so-and-so,” Cord replied.
“He is. Trust me. He uses women. Services as many as he can. Some he forces. I don’t know what to do. I want to geld the bastard, but she won’t let me.”
“Elizabeth?” Cord asked, slamming the teacup full of brew down his throat before putting it back on the desk top.
“No. My daughter, blast her.”
Cord shrugged. “Maybe she fancies herself in love with him.”
“I’m supposed to sit back and watch him ruin her life? I’m not supposed to be concerned if he brings her the pox? I’m supposed to do nothing?”
The door opened. Elizabeth calmly shut it behind her. “You’re making a muck of it, Rex,” she admonished him.
“Well? What should I do?”
“Nothing. That’s what. Nothing. For a change.”
Cord looked from one to the other. He was interfering in the middle of their family business and had no reason to stay. He stood. “I really should go now. My wife’s expecting me.”
“You brought your wife with you? Really? Where is she?”
Cord looked down at her. He took in the clasped hands, the dewy eyes, everything. “Very good, Fletch. I almost fell for it, too. You really will try anything to get what you want, won’t you?”
Rex sighed. “He’s too hard still, Liz-Beth.”
“You tell me your business with Linna, I’ll tell you where she is. Maybe.”
Rex looked Cord over with the insolent look Cord expected. It was a lot better than the play-act he’d tried. “I don’t have any business with that pretty little wife of yours, Larket. I was just making conversation.”
Beside him, Cord heard the blond woman gasp. “But, Rex—.”
She stopped when her husband held up his hand. Cord watched them. He also watched her eyes fill with tears as she looked up to him. Something inside him twinged. He grimaced. Maybe I am becoming a romantic.
“Don’t concern yourself so, Missus. My wife is well. I left her at a dressmaker store. She’s got a month of my pay to buy material and what-all you women need. She’ll be there some time.”
“You gave her a month of pay? That’s highly...generous. She must be quite a woman.”
Cord started to flush. He felt ridiculous. “She is,” he finally replied.
Rex Fletcher was openly grinning, as if Cord was providing all the sport in a private joke. Cord caught the expression from the corner of his eye.
“I...I’ll be right back, gentlemen. I have something for you, Cord. It’s something...for your wife. You just wait right there.”
Cord sat on the edge of his chair and waited. After a span, he looked across at Rex, who spread his hands wide. “Don’t look at me. I haven’t got a woman’s mind. You want to know how they think, ask Simons. Want some tea?”
Cord gave him a tight-lidded look.
“Oh, have some God-forsaken tea. She brewed it for us. Have a sweet-cake, too. Extra frosting, just like I like them. You look like you could use a bit of extra flesh, and I never thought I’d say that.”
Cord stuffed half an éclair in his mouth and had to swallow before he answered. The tea could have used less sweetening, but it worked as a wash for pastries. He swigged it, made a face, and put it back on the tray.
“I really can’t stay much longer. Linna has all my pay, remember?”
“You have enough food stores? She’s being seen to?”
Cord stood. He barely kept the anger from showing. He provided well enough that no man nee
ded to question it. Linna was carrying so much extra weight now, it was a ridiculous question if Rex took one look at her. He narrowed his eyes. “She has no complaints,” he answered.
“But you’re thinner. You’re not ill?”
“Of course not. I work every day, and do more than my share. I’m probably stronger than I was.”
“Explain then. You’ve lost a stone of weight. We’d have trouble finding good fights for you. You probably wouldn’t tip the scale at 200 pounds anymore.”
“Two-forty,” Cord replied.
Rex lifted his eyebrows at that. “Still? How much did you way before? Two-seventy?”
“Near enough.”
“No wonder you always won.”
“Why all the concern over my health anyway?”
“A friend who’s a marquis isn’t a bad thing.”
Cord sucked for air. “You know?” he choked. “I’m strangling that little—.”
“I always knew, lad. Always. You mumbled in your sleep when you first arrived on ship. Mumbled lots of things. I listened. I remembered.”
“You’re despicable.”
“Been told that before. What of it?”
“It’s doubly true now.” Cord couldn’t prevent the angry sound behind the words. Especially as they were said through his teeth.
“Let it go, my friend. I’m not worth it. Save it for that pip-squeak cousin of yours. But before you go, explain something. It’s nagging at me and you know me. Until I get an answer, I’m hard to sway.”
“An answer to what?”
“Your health. You’re thinner. You don’t have the pox, do you?”
Cord stiffened and threw out his own insult. “You taking up man-watching, like Simons?”
“I barely tolerate you, Cord. Don’t make me change my opinion. Why are you losing weight then?”
“Because Simons has taken up with someone. He lives in town.”
“So? He had to know you weren’t his type.”
Cord sighed. “He doesn’t cook for me anymore.”
“So?”
“If you must know, my wife has taken it up in his stead. She’s new to it.”
Rex looked at him blankly, then his entire frame started laughing. He looked like he might fall off his chair with the amusement. Cord turned to go.
“Allow me to send a cook. You could use it.”
Cord swiveled and glared at him. “I don’t take charity,” he said softly.
“Charity?” Fletcher rose and came around the desk. He extended his hand. Then let it drop. “Trust the young to misunderstand. I don’t practice charity, Cordean Raoul Larroquette. Charity? With a man who’ll be richer than my dreams? Let me send a cook.”
“I’d rather you didn’t, sir.”
“Why?”
“Well...two reasons. She’s improving, and...” he bent forward so Fletch wouldn’t see his face.
“And?”
“It’s personal,” Cord finished. “Tell your missus I’ll be back another time. Maybe I’ll have my entire family with me, not just Linna. Evening to you both.” He walked out of the room.
Rex’s flowered study was beginning to stifle him.
Everything was.
Cord took a gulp of air on his way to the wagon. Rex was a necessary evil until he brought proof from Canada. Then their association was over. And it was almost over. Cord was whistling when he reached the shop.
Linna was easy to spot. She was the most stunning woman he’d ever seen. Still. He sat on the wagon bench and watched her through the large, show-piece, glass window. He felt the strangest twinge in his chest when she looked up and saw him. His brows drew together as he felt it, and his hands tightened on the reins.
That same feeling came often. He hoped it wasn’t a harbinger of some chest ailment. Linna waved and kept talking to the woman at her side. Cord would have returned it, but she wasn’t looking. He leaned his arms on his upraised knees and watched her. He wasn’t going to interfere. That was what had gotten him banished when they’d first arrived. She didn’t want to be fussed over. She didn’t want to purchase the expensive cloth he liked. She’d told him they couldn’t afford it, and he darn well knew it. Cord had escaped with alacrity and a twinge of guilt. Linna was turning into a perfect laborer’s wife.
Cord frowned.
He wanted her to give birth to his child in the mansion that was his by birthright. He wanted her to have the luxuries she deserved. He could afford some of them now, but he was afraid of her reaction if she found out that a good portion of his income came from Dominique’s.
Linna was getting unwieldy with the size of his child. It made her move with a waddling type of movement. He watched her fondly, wondering why the pain was back in his chest. It was a strange kind of ache, sometimes pounding, sometimes like a hard stone, sometimes it was stinging hot, and other times it glowed. He didn’t need Rex’s worry. Cord was beginning to worry about his own health. He probably could use the cook though. Then again, there was the second reason.
Linna loved his new lean shape. She’d make mewing noises like a cat whenever he’d undress for her. It was becoming something of a rite for them. She’d put the lid on whatever surprise she was trying to cook, then she’d follow him to the bathing pond. He’d undress her. She took care of the clothing. Sometimes she’d wash his while they were still on his body. It was his pleasure. He made sure it was hers, too. The water kept her buoyant enough, the child didn’t interfere with wherever their passion took them.
She loved to draw her fingers down the revealed ropes and sinews of his muscling. She’d make him tense and release them for her. She’d have him do it all night if he’d let her. Some nights he did.
He’d never felt like this. He wasn’t certain he liked it. His chest caught at him again, and he clutched a hand to it, pulling on the reins. He wondered, for the thousandth time, what was wrong with him. He didn’t wish to worry Linna. He looked over the horse’s head at the street. That’s when he saw Birdie.
“Mister Cord? I got to you! Master Fletch is a-calling for you. He is. He’s a-thinking you want the news.”
“What news?”
“I was told to find you. I was. I’m to take you to the dock. I am. There’s news for you.”
Cord didn’t wait another moment. He tossed the reins in the direction of the post and leaped to the boardwalk. If he timed it right, his daughter would be born exactly where she was supposed to be; in the master bedroom of Plantation Larroque.
“Linna love?”
His heart gave him trouble again when she looked up. Cord could swear it stuttered, but it always seemed to when she turned those golden brown eyes on him. He caught her hand. “I’ve got to run to the docks. I’ve received an urgent message. I’ll be right back.”
“I’ll only be a few more minutes,” she answered.
He sucked in the breath and nodded. Then he tried to be patient. He watched as they measured and fussed with a bolt of yellow cotton-looking cloth. Then it was time to choose and cut a length of ribbon. He sighed heavily again as they selected lace. He went from one foot to the other until he probably resembled Birdie.
“Linna—,” he began.
She turned and smiled. The heavy stone in his breast started heating up the moment their eyes connected. He frowned.
“It’s all right, Cord. Go. Get your message. I’ll be here waiting for you.”
“Thank you, love.”
The proprietress probably thought them a loving couple as he delivered a peck to her cheek. It was a good act, he supposed.
The streets had too many carriages and wagons on them, there were too many people, and it seemed to take forever to get to the docks. He hoped he’d be in time. If the proof of his lineage was on the ship–! He couldn’t complete the thought. He’d get a hotel room. There weren’t many, but Linna deserved it. He’d put his plans for Marcelle on hold for the moment.
It was shaping up to be a perfect evening.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
>
Cord had said he’d be right back. That kept the shopkeeper charming and gushing and so cloyingly sweet-tempered, that more than once, Linna had to close her eyes and take deep breaths before replying to anything the woman said. She knew the reason: her husband. And she knew exactly what he’d meant when he’d told her that he was pretty with such hatred in his voice. It was annoying the way women acted when he was about.
“Oh my.” The woman said and gasped immediately after her cryptic words.
“What?” Linna replied, without moving her head.
“As I live and breathe. It’s the Larroquette coach! Isn’t it grand?”
Linna looked out the window. There was an elegant equipage in the street outside, a liveried driver, and four matched horses. She had to agree. It was grand. Too much so. For use on an island the size of this one, it was outrageous.
“And at my establishment! I’m going to die of the pleasure. Do you think the marquis is interested in my shop? Or mayhap it’s his wife? That would be so wondrous. Why...just one bit of business with the Larroquettes, and I’ll be set. Everybody follows what they do. Those of any consequence, anyhow.”
Linna blew out the sigh and turned back to a length of yellow flannel, baby flannel; soft and sturdy. It would work up beautifully, if the price wasn’t too steep. She no longer cared about the Larroquettes or their coach. She knew what was important, and it wasn’t social consequence.
“Oh look!” The woman squealed it. “He’s coming in! To my shop!”
Linna glanced over. The marquis wasn’t coming in. His driver was. He didn’t look as thrilled to be there as the proprietress was to see him. That brought a smile to her mouth, then it fell at the man’s words.
“Is there a Madame Lar-o-ket here? Madame Linnette Lar-o-ket?”
Linna closed her lips at the man’s strange pronunciation of her surname. It wasn’t that difficult to say.
“I’m Linna Larket,” she replied.
“I’ve been sent for you, Madame. To escort you.” He approached her and bowed. Linna blushed, and for no reason other than a man was bowing to her in a dressmaker shop.
“Me?”
“Your husband is Cordean? From the plantation, non?”