Diane T. Ashley (18 page)

“Be careful with that man.” David raised his voice so she could hear him even in the hallway. “I don’t want to have to pull you out of any scrapes.”

“Don’t worry.” Her voice floated back to him. “You’re the last one I would call on, dear brother.”

His elbow slipped off the piano, hitting several keys and producing a discordant noise that made him wince. He supposed he would have to allow her the last word. His threat had been an empty one, and she probably knew it. David would always come to her rescue. Whether she returned his affection or not, he would always be there for her.

L
ily winced as her amethyst earbob clamped down on the tender portion of her earlobe. She didn’t like having to wear jewelry. It pinched and poked. But the jewelry was a gift from her husband. And they matched her lavender dress. She settled the matching piece on her other ear. She would make the sacrifice for his sake.

“What do you think I should say to Jasmine?” She glanced at his reflection in the mirror above the bureau.

Blake pulled his suspenders over his shoulders and attached them to the high waist of his trousers. “Dwell on the things you have in common instead of your differences. Let love guide you instead of your mothering instinct.”

She leaned her head to one side as she considered the advice. “I want her to have a good time this evening.”

“Then we should be taking her back to the theater instead of to dinner.”

Lily walked to the bed and picked up her husband’s black frock coat. “But we went to the theater last night.”

He slid one arm into a sleeve before turning slightly to reach for the other one. As soon as the material was on his shoulders, Lily reached up and smoothed it. “I doubt Jasmine would complain if we returned every night while we’re in New Orleans. Your sister loves the theater. She has ever since she was a child, and I don’t look for her to change anytime soon.”

A part of Lily dreaded the evening. But she needed to talk to Jasmine and reassure her that she would be more reasonable. She didn’t want to drive her sister away. She wanted to avoid the type of division that Blake and his father had experienced. Spending the afternoon praying had helped, but Lily wondered if she would be able to maintain her calm.

“It’s going to be okay, Lily.” Blake put his hands on her shoulders and leaned over to kiss her.

Lily melted into his embrace, letting her fears go. She clung to him, wanting to remain in his arms a little longer before facing the people waiting for them in the parlor.

Blake hugged her tight before letting go and offering his arm. “You are looking very lovely this evening, Mrs. Matthews.”

“Thank you, Mr. Matthews.” Lily accepted his compliment with a smile. “You look very handsome yourself.”

His tender look buoyed her. Blake believed in her. She sent a silent plea to heaven that his faith was not misplaced. And for patience and wisdom in dealing with Jasmine.

They negotiated the stairs side by side and entered the parlor together. Kenneth stood, and Sarah looked up as they entered. Lily glanced around the room, her face tightening into a frown. “Where is Jasmine?”

“Don’t worry, dearest.” Sarah stood and rushed across the room, her satin dress rustling in the quiet room. “Your sister wasn’t feeling well this evening. I’m sure it had nothing to do with that little tiff between you. She had several visitors this morning and then again this afternoon.”

Lily wanted to forget their plans for the evening and rush over to the Cartiers’ home to check on her sister. She turned to Sarah’s husband. “Did you see her? Is she coming down with something?”

Kenneth shook his head. “She had no fever, only a few nebulous complaints. I’m sure it’s nothing that a restful night’s sleep won’t cure.”

“I shouldn’t have forbidden her to see that man.” Despair laced her words. No matter what Sarah thought, it had to be the argument that had prevented Jasmine from coming. Her sister didn’t want to be around her. The thought pained her. Where had she gone wrong? And how could she make it right?

Sarah put an arm around her waist and drew her toward the sofa. “That’s not it at all, Lily.”

“It has to be.” Lily sat down and put her face in her hands.

“No.” Sarah touched her arm. “Mr. Hargrove was coming to dinner with us until I sent him a message that your sister was not feeling well.”

Lily lifted her head.

“He was at my home when we returned this afternoon. He’s such a gentleman. I can understand why Jasmine would find him attractive. He presented her with a beautiful bouquet. And he is so handsome, so polished. When I invited him to dinner as you and I discussed, he accepted most graciously. Both he and Jasmine seemed pleased by the idea.”

The information from Sarah set her head spinning. “Then I wonder why Jasmine decided not to come?”

“It is evident that you don’t need to worry so.” Blake offered his reassurance from the other side of the sofa. “If Jasmine was as smitten with him as you thought, she would have joined us, no matter how she felt.”

Her husband’s thoughts matched hers. Jasmine was as determined as any member of the Anderson family. No headache would have prevented her if she really wanted to see this Hargrove fellow.

Was Kenneth wrong? Was Jasmine sicker than he realized? That made no sense. Sarah’s husband was a renowned doctor. He would recognize any symptoms.

The temptation to excuse herself and go across town to check on her sister was strong. Lily glanced around the room, her mind considering and discarding half-a-dozen excuses. But in the end, she realized she had only one course to follow. She couldn’t wreck all their plans to go and check on Jasmine tonight. Holding onto an image of Jasmine sitting in bed, a cap on her head and a book leaned against her knees, Lily stood. “Shall we get going?”

Blake’s gaze met hers, and he sent her an approving smile. The dread that had been building in her chest eased some. Jasmine was safe. And the two of them might do better with a little more breathing time.

This was a first step in allowing her sister to make her own decisions, an olive branch of good intentions. Perhaps it would help heal the breach between them.

The
Smoky Mary
was well named. Thick billows of gray smoke blew past them as the train picked up speed. But Jasmine could endure a little discomfort on her adventure. The
Water Lily’
s twin smokestacks were almost as obnoxious at times.

She still couldn’t believe how easy it had been to slip away from the Cartiers’ home. When Vance had called for her, after the departure of her host and hostess, Jasmine had blithely told the servants that she was going out.

The butler had not looked pleased, but he had not said anything. What could he say? He was not her father or any other relative. She was free. Finally free.

“I’m glad you managed to keep our assignation.” Vance shared the narrow bench with her, his knee a bare inch from hers.

She giggled and fluttered her lashes at him. She’d practiced the move in front of her mirror all afternoon while she pretended illness. Apparently her hard work paid off. His scorching glance made her feel heady. And powerful. Maybe he wouldn’t think her so innocent now.

When he put his arm on the bench behind her head, however, Jasmine gulped. She didn’t want him to think she had no morals. Leaning forward, she pretended interest in the passing scenery. “How long before we arrive?”

He must have understood the message because Vance withdrew his arm. “Our destination is less than five miles away.”

Relief coursed through her. He was too much a gentleman to make her uncomfortable. “How did you come to be in New Orleans?”

“I suppose you could say it is Tabitha Barlow’s fault.” He rubbed his hand on his pants leg. “She and I were performing in Dickens’s play
No Thoroughfare
. Are you familiar with it?”

“Yes. I’ve read it, anyway. But I’ve never seen it performed.”

“We were receiving wonderful reviews, but then the theater owner closed us down three months ago.” Vance sent a winning smile in her direction. “So we came here. Tabitha has performed in the city in the past, so she had plenty of contacts.”

A pang of jealousy drowned Jasmine’s butterflies. Did Vance love Miss Barlow? He had been waiting in the hallway outside her door when she first met him. “Are you m—married to her?”

His laughter rang out, turning heads of some of the other passengers. “No, dearest Jasmine. We are friends, of course, and business associates. Once you begin working in the arts, you will understand how it works.”

She opened her fan with a snap and used it to cool her cheeks. Jasmine felt like an adolescent schoolgirl. Vance must think her ignorant. She was afraid to say anything else and reveal to him her lack of knowledge.

Vance leaned forward to get her attention. “I believe I should be offended. Do you really think me such a scoundrel that I would pursue a lady while my wife pined for me at home?”

Jasmine’s hand redoubled the speed of her fan. “No, that’s not … I mean I just thought … I—”

“Don’t.” His dark eyes sparkled in the fading light. “I was only teasing you a little. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you, Jasmine.”

She let her fan drift to her lap as she stared into Vance’s eyes, noticing for the first time the dark band of black that outlined his pupils. His smile disappeared. Why would his serious face cause her heart to stutter? Jasmine swallowed hard as she lost all sense of her surroundings. Vance Hargrove was the most exciting, most mature man she’d ever known. He made her feel both desirable and gauche at the same time.

The train lurched to a stop, breaking the spell between them. Vance stood and offered her his hand. “For the rest of the evening I’ll do better, Jasmine. I promise not to tease or scare you anymore.”

She managed a smile and put her hand in his. But she was beginning to wonder if she was completely out of her depth. They disembarked from the train, and she looked around. The town of Milneburg was not what she’d expected. In a way it reminded her of river towns. The waterfront was crowded with boats and rickety buildings. Even the water seemed filled with houses, suspended on long lines of piers. One two-story house had a wide porch on all four sides and a smaller guesthouse behind it.

Even though the sun had set, dozens of people walked on the lantern-strewn paths, some showing the effects of alcohol. Somewhere in the distance, a horn played a lively tune she didn’t recognize.

The spirit of adventure which had begun their evening together returned to Jasmine. She intercepted an appreciative glance from one of the women walking past, and a secret sparkle coursed through her. She knew jealousy when she saw it.

“Do you like seafood?”

Jasmine wrinkled her nose. “We eat a lot of fish on my sister’s boat.”

“Ah.” He changed direction, guiding her away from a huge white gazebo with exotic-looking parapets on top. “Then I believe we’ll need to avoid the music pavilion.”

As they left the crowds behind, the sound of frogs and crickets filled the air. Jasmine’s footsteps slowed. “Where are we going?”

“Don’t you trust me, little Jasmine?” He stopped and looked down at her. “I would tell you that I’m taking you to a pirate’s hidden treasure, but I promised not to tease you. I know of an intimate little café I think you’ll like.”

Jasmine studied his face and tried to decide if he was being serious. Taking a deep breath, she nodded. “ ‘Lay on, Macduff.’ ”

His chuckle was so attractive. Unpretentious and open. Exactly like Vance’s personality. “ ‘Hold! Enough!’ ”

She was pleased that he recognized her quote from Macbeth. It was something no one in her family would have done. No matter how many times she read to them from the classic plays of Shakespeare, they didn’t understand. She was finally in the company of someone who did. And it felt like coming home.

A
ndrew Jackson held his seat on the rearing bronze horse, one of his hands loose on the reins, while the military hero held a “fore and aft” hat aloft in the other. When he had looked at the statue earlier in the day, David had thought Andrew looked calm and in control. The way David wanted to feel. But he knew many things could go wrong with his plan to discover who controlled the ring of successful bank robbers. Like the Union general who had added an inscription during the occupation of New Orleans, he believed he had a responsibility to uphold the law of the land. The words General Benjamin Butler had ordered were simple but profound—T
HE
U
NION
M
UST AND
S
HALL BE
P
RESERVED
.

A hissing sound made him look at the constable crouched a few feet away behind a palm tree. “What time is it?”

“Five minutes later than the last time you asked.” David kept his voice low. If the informant heard them, he would realize what was happening and disappear. They would not get the information they needed or an additional arrest. “He’ll be here soon.”

Gas lamps cast a sickly glow on Petrie’s face as he leaned against the cast-iron fence surrounding the statue. David hoped he would remember their instructions. He would tell the man he was meeting that the police were about to close in on the ringleader because their group harbored a traitor. He would claim to know the informant’s name but refuse to give it to his cohort in case the man was working with the snitch. Once he had the leader’s name, Petrie would raise his right hand and place it on his head as a signal for David and the constable to rush in and make their arrest.