by Calia Read
“You seem more focused than usual.” Étienne looks at me from the corner of his eye. “Is there somethin’ on your mind?”
Stepping back from the window, I shake my head. “Nothin’. Other than this bachelor debacle.”
Étienne snorts and drops his towel. “You do realize you were not invited to last night’s engagement, correct?”
“I did not know you four would be at that theater.”
“Charleston is not that large. How many theaters do you think this city has?”
“I’m not goin’ to answer that. My date was eager to see said film, and I obliged.”
“Clearly,” Étienne murmurs. “Tell me, was your date Rosalie or Rainey?”
My head whips in Étienne’s direction so fast that I swear I pull a muscle. Étienne grins, but I don’t return the smile. “I don’t understand what you’re implyin’. Perhaps you’re gettin’ them confused? Might I suggest you wear your readin’ glasses more often?”
“I could see just fine last night. Your date was to your left, and she was the one you overlooked. And Rainey was to your right, and she was the one you continued to speak to and stare at.”
“I did not stare. Why would I stare?”
“You did. And that is a good question. Why were you starin’ at Rainey?”
“For the last time, I did not stare. And if I did look in Rainey’s direction, perhaps I was ponderin’ over her choice of escort for the night.”
Étienne crosses his arms and leans back in his chair. “Beau is an upstandin’ man.”
“But not for Rainey.” I know my brother is far from finished with this discussion, and as much as I want to exert more energy fencing, sitting down and gathering a deep breath isn’t so bad.
Placing my sword next to my chair, I sit, crossing one ankle over the opposite knee. We’re quiet for several moments. Voices from inside the house filter through the cracks around the double doors. There’s the faint yet undeniable sound of a giggle.
The corner of Étienne’s mouth curls upward.
Marriage, love, whatever you prefer to call it, has changed my brother into a man I barely recognize. Even the elite of Charleston have noticed the slight difference. The general consensus on Serene isn’t favorable, but no one can deny she is the woman who’s tamed the untamable. For that, she gained a certain level of respect.
Étienne clears his throat, pulling me from my thoughts. “Rosalie seems … lovely.”
I give a noncommital shrug. “She is.”
Étienne looks at me from the corner of his eye. “You will not see her again, will you?”
“No. I don’t believe I will.” I pause. “She wants commitment.”
Étienne dramatically gasps. He’s been spending far too much time with his wife. “A woman wants commitment from another human being? My God. The nerve. Did you alert the police?”
I fling my hand in the air. “I don’t understand what happened to casual datin’.”
“I’m afraid that is somethin’ of the past. At your age, settlin’ down with a woman might appeal to you.”
The mere thought causes me to shudder. I have far too many scars from my past and questionable ways of coping with them. I have no desire to bring someone into my personal life. Indefinitely. “Why would I want to settle with one woman?”
“Because we’re made of sugar and spice and everything nice. So kiss my ass.” Étienne and I turn in time to see Serene walk into the ballroom.
I gesture to my sister-in-law. “Here walks Exhibit A. Dear God, you’re still pregnant? It’s been almost two years.”
“Do not get me started. This child is bringing the noise and bringing the funk on my bladder.”
Étienne stands and grabs a chair lined against the wall, and places it next to ours.
“What brings you here?” Étienne asks as he helps his wife sit down.
Serene links her hands around the underside of her stomach as she makes herself comfortable. For all her bellyaching, I believe a small part of her truly enjoys being pregnant. “No reason. The two of you have been in here for a long time.”
My brother looks my way. “It’s Livingston. He wouldn’t stop. I almost stabbed myself to make it end.”
Furrowing her brows, Serene looks at me. “Why the intense fencing game?”
My brother leans back in his chair. Arching a brow, he smiles at Serene. “Because of Rainey.”
“Oh, of course.” Serene slaps her palm against her forehead. “I should’ve known that. This pregnancy is seriously throwing me off my game.”
“I’ll have the two of you know that me fencin’ has absolutely nothin’ to do with Rainey.”
The two of them stare at me with bland expressions. They don’t believe a word I’m saying.
“I’m serious,” I insist.
Serene nods, her eyes wide. “Of course.”
I look around the room before my gaze ventures back to Serene. Do I dare ask the question that’s been hounding me since last night? Oh, why not? This is Serene we’re talking about. Somehow, someway, she finds out everything.
“Has she expressed interested in seeing Beau again?”
Serene looks at Étienne before she answers. “No, not to me. But for the sake of transparency, Beau told Étienne he wants to see Rainey again.”
I snort. “I’m sure he does.” I push myself out of my chair as a sudden surge of adrenaline courses through me.
“Has it ever occurred to you that these men might want to be with Rainey for Rainey?” This question comes from Étienne.
“No. And you know why? Because I’m a male, and I understand what they’re thinkin’. Trust me when I say gettin’ to know the real Rainey is the furthest thing from their mind.”
Serene stops rubbing her stomach and gives me a thoughtful look. “But what if it is?”
As I sit there thinking of the bachelors having genuine intentions, something unheard of courses through me. It isn’t jealousy, anger, or fury, but something between the three. It’s hot and powerful, and makes my hands clench several times. My mouth opens and closes, yet I can’t seem to muster a reply to Serene’s question.
“Chan-Chan! Chan-Chan! Don’t run!” Alex hollers in the hall, impeding my aggressive thoughts.
Serene slaps her hand against her knees and attempts to stand. “Ah, crap. I gotta go.”
Wordlessly, Étienne holds his hand out, and Serene takes it. She launches herself out of her chair and waddles toward the doors. Once in the hallway, Serene yells for Alex to slow down.
I look at my brother. “There’s never a dull moment in this home, is there?”
Étienne shrugs, but a tiny smirk covers his lips. “I find it pleasant. Belgrave was quiet for far too long. A home of this size needs to be filled with children.”
“Precisely how many children?”
“As many children as Serene wants to give me.”
“My Lord,” I groan. “Belgrave doesn’t have enough room for the number of children the two of you will produce.”
With that said, Étienne laughs heartily. Some of my pent-up aggression fades, but it won’t completely disappear until I know Serene is done with this bachelor charade. This is going to drive me mad.
Sighing, Étienne looks at me. “If you want to remain a bachelor your entire life, so be it. I will no longer browbeat you.”
I nod. “Thank you.”
“And in terms of Rainey, if you’re truly disgruntled with Pleas’s will, then perhaps we can have our attorney look through it and see if there are any holes in it.”
“That would be good,” I reply noncommittally. I appreciate the offer, but I’m certain Pleas’s will was ironclad. I think of a conversation Rainey and I had the day Serene proposed the idea of having a bachelor ball, and how Rainey privately confessed her family’s financial peril. I promised my discretion, and she has it. However, that doesn’t mean I can’t help guide Étienne in the right direction. “And I’ll look through the family’s financial documents
,” I blurt.
Slowly, Étienne turns to me. “Why?”
“To make sure all is well. Rainey mentioned they are between accountants, and I know Pleas played an important role in their finances. It’s just to make sure everythin’ is okay.”
Étienne absorbs my explanation. “Very well, then. If you need help, let me know.”
“Thank you.”
Étienne gives a blunt nod and stares straight ahead. “But it goes without sayin’ that the process will be tedious and can take quite a long time.”
“I know,” I say empathetically.
I understood that more than Étienne realized. The examination through the first set of ledgers Rainey gave me was not going how I anticipated. Miles took painstaking care to list everything that came into the Pleasonton household and everything that went out. The daily expenses were neat and orderly, as was the cash account, and the two were always on separate pages. It was evident that Miles had been attempting to hold the creditors back, for years, to the best of his abilities by taking loans from one bank and paying them off from another loan through an acquaintance or friend. On one of the cash account pages, toward the bottom, was Étienne’s name. There was a date the loan was taken out and the amount. There was no date listed for any payment. I don’t know if that was because Étienne refused for the loan to be paid back or Miles didn’t have the funds. But seeing my brother’s name in the ledger brought a sinking feeling to my gut.
“She should continue seein’ each bachelor,” Étienne says, his tone frank.
The mere word bachelor causes me to grind my teeth. There has to be a better description for these buffoons pursuing Rainey. “Even though this entire arranged marriage process is futile and inane?”
“To place your concentration in one area would be foolish. There’s no harm in socializin’ with these respectful men,” Étienne rationalizes.
It’s hard to say if years of marriage or being a father has turned my brother this way. He’s still the terrifying Étienne everyone knows him to be, but there’s a genial side. Right now, I need the terrifying side, who sees these men for what they really are. I have more respect in my pinky finger than any of those men.
“I’m placin’ my focus in one area because I already know what will happen. The bachelors will discover Rainey’s tenacious personality and run for the hills. And then Rainey will sour from the experience.”
“And does all your focus require you to arrive to each event Rainey’s at with one of her bachelors?”
“No.”
My brother’s face remains expressionless save for a single arched brow.
“You don’t have faith in me. That’s fine,” I say.
“It’s not that. I just believe you should speak with Rainey and be honest. Far easier than chasin’ after her from place to place.”
Étienne has a valid point. Perhaps, I can remind Rainey, very calmly, that I’m still reviewing the ledgers, and she doesn’t have to continue with this madness. However, I’m not about to mention that to my brother. I stand and give Étienne a confident smile. “Soon you will see I’m correct in this.”
“Absolutely,” Étienne mutters behind me. “Because even a stopped clock is right twice in a day.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Rainey
Last night after Étienne, Serene, and Beau dropped me off at home, Beau was ever the gentleman and escorted me to the front door. He settled for kissing the knuckles of my left hand, and I felt … nothing.
Not a single thing.
My heart quickened more when I traced words on Livingston’s palm.
I wasn’t willing to bid adieu to Beau Legare. He seemed so perfect, and it’s not as though I dedicated the whole night to get to know him as I should have. Most of my time was compromised by Livingston.
As I laid in bed last night, I mulled over each bachelor. I didn’t know all of them by name. Some of them I did. Rather, I recognized them by their faces. Which made me feel ostentatious, but maybe it was better this way. My date with Beau made it abundantly clear that sometimes my mind can get ahead of itself. Perhaps, after the second date, then I can learn their name.
It sounds harsh even to my own ears, but I desire a spark. I desire chemistry. I merely desire the rush of desire.
Like with Livingston, I think to myself and immediately take back the thought. My God, where did that come from? The two of us are like oil and water, as opposite as black and white. What tingled one night might not be there the next.
“Rainey, dear, are you listenin’?”
Blinking rapidly, I stare down at the stitching hoop clutched between my hands. Over breakfast, I gave Momma the shock of her life when I offered to embroidery with her this afternoon, but I had ulterior motives. I was desperate to give my mind a respite from this bachelor/dowry situation. Thus far, it wasn’t working, and I have poked the tips of my fingers at least ten times.
Lifting my head, I find Momma lookin’ at me expectantly. “I’m sorry, what did you say?”
“You were lost in your thoughts, weren’t you?”
“Of course not.” I look at the needle clutched between my thumb and forefinger. “I was simply engrossed in my embroidery.”
Momma tugs on the hem of my cloth so she can get a better look at my handiwork. Her eyes widen. “Mercy me, Rainey. What is that? A doll or a candle that’s caught on fire?”
“I don’t follow patterns, but my imagination and this”—I point at the yellow mass in the middle of the cloth— “is the sun. Because I like yellow, and the sun reminds me of happier times in my life.”
My hope is that my false truth of a story tugs at Momma’s heartstrings, but as the seconds tick by, she remains expressionless. I shrug and all but toss my embroidery onto the ottoman in front of me. “I believe I need to take a break.”
“Wonderful. Because now you can answer my question from before. How was your … time with Mr. Legare?”
For all her reservations regarding the bachelors, Momma is still inquisitive by nature. She can’t help herself. I take a deep breath, and I swear she leans in with wide eyes.
“Just as I told you last night, he was a kind gentleman, and we had a pleasant time at the theater.” Although, as I say those words, moments from the night before run through my mind. It’s not Beau’s beautiful face I see, but Livingston’s heart-stopping grin and the image of my hand touching his.
“Did you get to know him better?”
“Not as well as I hoped.” But I learned that slowly tracing letters on Livingston’s palm is enough to make my breathing accelerate. “There’s always a next time,” I say with false enthusiasm.
“You’ll see Mr. Legare again?”
“Perhaps.”
“And will you do this with the rest of the men? Time is of the essence.”
“If need be, yes.”
Momma resumes her needlework. Apparently, the important questions are out of the way. “You’ll certainly be an occupied woman for the next several weeks.”
“I will,” I agree. “But Serene has a rigid timeline. I’ll be seein’ numerous bachelors each week.”
“How wonderful. And what if a bachelor wishes to see you more than twice in a week?”
“Momma, what is it you truly want to say?”
Her eyes turn serious as she looks at me sharply. “Rainey, I don’t believe Miles intended for you to go about findin’ husband this way.”
“Well, no one knows the way he wanted me to find one. This is the route I chose.”
“And while I’m glad you’re acceptin’ of your dowry, Livingston as the executor, and not usin’ your bow on a single soul in the past two weeks, seein’ these men in such a way …” Her lips become pursed as she shakes her head.
Angling my head to the side, I smile. “Are you scandalized by me?”
To her credit, Momma appears dismayed by my question. “Of course not. But you should know that folks about town might find this all very objectionable.”
&nbs
p; “It has crossed my mind,” I lie.
This was now the second time someone has made mention of the conversations buzzing throughout Charleston about the bachelor arrangement. The chatter didn’t bother me, but I would hate it even more for Momma to lose this home and everything inside it. That would be something everybody in Charleston would discuss for quite some time.
“If you’re worried about me bein’ in a compromisin’ position with one of the bachelors, you shouldn’t.”
“Because you will have Livingston as a chaperone?”
I bite down on my tongue. That’s the last person I want to see while I’m getting to know the bachelors, especially after last night. “No,” I say slowly. “Because Serene and I will be vigilant with every outin’ and event that there’s no chance of bein’ compromised.”
She sighs and looks in the direction of the window. I know her well enough to know she’s still not content with the arrangement. None of this is how she envisioned it occurring. And it makes me wonder, not for the first time, if she whispered nonsensical things into Miles’s ear about me to get him to change his will and add in the foolish dowry.
A light knock on the sitting room doors thankfully puts a pin in the conversation. I don’t think I’ve ever been more relieved. The butler clears his throat. “You have a caller.”
Momma sends me a furtive glance, as though I’m a child she’s watching over and quickly stands. She speaks with the butler for a moment and then turns back to me. “Livingston is here to speak with you.”
In an instant, my relief turns to dread. That should have explained the sudden bounce in Momma’s step and the spark in her eye. I will never understand how he’s able to bewitch nearly every woman he meets.
“Why is he here?” I quietly ask myself before I stand from the couch. “Very well. I’ll make this quick.”
Momma places a hand on my arm, stopping me at the doorway. “Go gentle on him, Raina.”
“Momma, he’s not a baby deer.”