Love Be Mine (The Louisiana Ladies Series, Book 3) (31 page)

At the edge of the dancing yellow light lay the body of a man, scarlet rivulets of what could only be blood radiated outward from the still form. Snatching up the lantern, Hugh brought it closer to the body.

Etienne Gras lay dead on the floor of the warehouse. His throat had been cut, the vicious wound extending nearly from ear to ear. He looked much the same as he had when Hugh had seen him earlier, except now the dark eyes revealed the stark terror of his final moments....

Chapter 14

The company hired night watchmen to patrol the premises, but it took Hugh and John several minutes to find the pair of them sleeping off a night of hard drinking in a small room at the back of the warehouse. Staring at the bleary-eyed sots who were supposed to be guarding the place, Hugh was not surprised that those behind the thefts and Etienne's death felt they could do as they wished.

The city guards were sent for, and by the time they had arrived and Hugh and John explained their finding of the body and answered the questions of the local authorities, it was nearly three o'clock in the morning. The two Lancasters decided that no good would be served by waking
Madame
Gras at that hour of the morning to tell her that her only son was dead.

An hour after first light, Hugh bathed and changed his clothes and prepared to wake
Madame
Gras with the tragic news of Etienne's death. It was one of the hardest things he had ever done in his life, and it did not help that he was consumed by guilt. He might not have wielded the knife which had killed Etienne, but it certainly had been his actions which had set in motion the events which had led to the murder. A tight ball of fury fought with his guilt, and he swore to himself that Etienne's murder would not go unpunished.

The meeting with
Madame
Gras was every bit as grim as Hugh had thought it would be. The family was shattered, and he spent several hours with Etienne's relatives genuinely commiserating with them for their loss. As the word spread of the tragedy, other relatives arrived, and by the time Hugh departed from the modest Gras home, it was filled to overflowing with grieving family members—grandparents, uncles, aunts, nieces, and nephews. Hugh was able to leave knowing full well that
Madame
Gras and Etienne's sisters were being enfolded into the extended Creole family bosom. Before he departed Hugh had a private word with
Madame
Gras and her elder brother, Laurent Cloutier, who seemed a sensible man. With delicate tact he explained that Etienne's family would suffer no financial hardship because of his death. The relief in Madame's grief-ravaged face did little to soothe Hugh's sense of guilt. As he walked away, he was conscious that it would be a long time before the image of Etienne's dead body faded from his mind.

The trip to
Amour
had naturally been postponed until after Etienne's funeral, which was held on Friday. Hugh sent word to Micaela that they would be delayed, but he did not mention why. Hugh also notified the other partners of Etienne's death and requested their presence at the funeral. It was then that he discovered that none of them, despite having said differently, had actually left the city. Although Hugh could find no obvious faults, their various reasons for remaining in New Orleans, even Jasper's, seemed specious.

But watching the four men as they expressed their sympathy to a heavily veiled
Madame
Gras at the cemetery on Friday, Hugh speculated about them. Which one, he wondered savagely. Which one of those men either murdered Etienne himself or ordered it done.

Hugh dismissed Jasper from his list of suspects—might as well suspect his stepfather as Jasper. To his surprise, he found that he did not feel very comfortable putting Jean on his list either. He and Jean had come a long way these past months and whether it was simply that closer association had engendered a mutual respect for each other or whether it was just that they were both older and less inclined to take offense so easily, he did not know. It was probably a bit of both, but Hugh found himself hoping that when the guilty party was unmasked, it would not be Jean Dupree.

He still favored Alain as his villain. For obvious reasons he did
not
want François to be the culprit behind the ugliness. But watching Alain and François walking off with their heads close together as they conversed, Hugh was aware of a sense of unease. He could not ignore the fact that François was very good friends with Alain, and that old adage, "birds of a feather, flock together," ran through his mind.

Hugh called a meeting at his house immediately following the funeral. Originally he'd been determined to use his personal fortune to pay for the generous sum which would be settled upon Etienne's family, but after a great deal of argument, John convinced him that the company should pay the money—Etienne had been an employee, and whatever guilt Hugh might feel, what happened was not his fault. Hugh didn't like it, but he could see the sense of it and he took a certain satisfaction in knowing that whoever had killed Etienne was going to be livid that company funds were being expended in such a manner. Picturing the chagrin of the murderer, he smiled without mirth. He was looking forward to watching the expressions on the faces of the others when they heard the news.

Everyone gathered in the main salon of the house. After some brief comments about the tragedy, Hugh explained the purpose of the meeting. There was an astonished silence when he finished speaking and though he was watching closely, no one reacted significantly.

"But why?" exclaimed François, puzzled. "It is not
our
fault that Etienne died."

"You think not?" Hugh inquired with a lift of his brow. "He worked for us, and he was killed in one of our warehouses. I think we bear some responsibility for the tragedy."

"Then pay him out of your own fortune!" snapped François.

"I find that I agree with my friend," Alain said smoothly. "It is no concern of ours. It is unfortunate, but..." He gave a very Gallic shrug.

"Well, I, for one, see nothing wrong with the idea," said Jasper. "The sum will not hurt the company, although our profits may dip a little more for the time being."

François glared at Jasper and slumped back in his chair. A muscle jumped in Jasper's jaw, and he sent François a hard look. "I thought Etienne was your friend—will you see his mother and sisters brought to ruin?"

It was Alain who answered. "Friendship has nothing to do with it. It is a matter of business, of money. I would not have accepted Christophe's shares in the company if I had known," he said in a sneering voice, "that it was going to be turned into a charity."

"If that is the way you feel," Hugh retorted, "I am willing to buy your shares right now."

Alain sent him a hooded glance. "Are you?" he purred. And at Hugh's nod, he named a price nearly five times their value.

The words had hardly left his mouth before Hugh said, "If you will sign an agreement to that effect this afternoon, I shall have the money transferred to you on Monday morning before I leave for
Amour."

Rising gracefully to his feet, Alain bowed. "Prepare the agreement."

Alain's offer and Hugh's swift acceptance of it struck the others speechless, and it wasn't until after Alain had signed with contemptuous flourish the hastily drawn document that the silence was broken. Preparing to leave, Alain murmured, "I will not say that it has been a pleasure to do business with you,
Monsieur
Lancaster, but I will say that I am very happy no longer to be one of your partners!"

Hugh smiled like a tiger. "And I,
monsieur,
am overjoyed that Galland, Lancaster and Dupree will no longer have you meddling in its affairs. Good day."

Alain's hand tightened on the malacca cane he was carrying, but he merely tipped his head and glanced at Francis. "I shall see you before you leave the city?"

François nodded.

When the door shut behind Alain's form, John Lancaster let out his breath in a rush. "Whew! For a few minutes there, I thought you might be fighting another duel with that fellow."

Hugh smiled. "So did I." Looking at the others, he said, "Are there any more objections to settling the money on Etienne's family?"

Jean stroked his chin, looking thoughtful. "We have never done such a thing before, but then we have never had someone who worked for us murdered before either. I regret the necessity for it, but I do not think that I would rest easy knowing that
Madame
Gras and her daughters were destitute. It is only honorable that we do something for his family."

François snorted. Springing to his feet, he muttered, "I do not see why you called us all together—the decision had already been made. You have wasted my time."

The door shut resoundingly behind him. Jean looked embarrassed. "He is young," he said as he rose from his chair, "and much spoiled. I apologize for him." Glancing at Hugh, he asked wryly, "Is the invitation to visit you at
Amour
still open?"

Hugh grinned. "Do you think my wife or mother-in-law would allow me to bar their relatives from their home?"

Jean smiled crookedly. "Very well then. We shall see you on Wednesday or Thursday. Or at least I will. Who knows what that hotheaded young fool François will do!"

Jean started toward the door, but Jasper said, "Wait,
mon ami,
I shall walk with you." He bowed to Hugh and John. "I assume there is no other business you wish to discuss?"

Hugh shook his head, and Jasper said, "Then I shall wish you a pleasant trip to
Amour
on Monday and look forward to seeing you and your charming wife sometime later in the summer."

When Hugh and John were alone, Hugh sat down in a large, overstuffed chair of burgundy and gray cut velvet and murmured, "That went rather well, do you not agree?"

"Better than I expected," John said slowly. He frowned. "I am rather surprised at how easily Husson gave up his shares, even if he did charge you an outrageous sum for them."

Hugh shrugged. "I would have paid double that amount if it got rid of him. And as for the ease with which he sold them to me, if he
is
the one behind our troubles, he has to know that the days in which he could loot the company at will are coming to an end." Hugh grinned. "Perhaps, like the rat I believe him to be, he has decided to desert the ship while there is still time."

"Perhaps. But I still do not like it. I feel there is something almost
ominous
about his actions."

On Monday morning when Hugh transferred the money to the account which Alain had specified, they were still discussing Alain's motives as well as the tragedy of Etienne's death and the events surrounding it. Feeling as if he had made little progress in the situation at Galland, Lancaster and Dupree, Hugh was reluctant to abandon the city, but John had made him see that he would accomplish little by remaining in New Orleans.

"The fever season, you know," John said gently. "And it is unlikely that anything of note will happen until
Le Coq
arrives, which you yourself have admitted will not be for a few weeks yet. You have hired new guards and tripled their number, and terrified
Monsieur
Brisson within an inch of his life at the fate that will be his if he does not
instantly
notify you of the ship's arrival. For now, there is nothing else you can do."

Hugh grimaced, but privately agreeing with his stepfather, he prepared for their journey to
Amour.

Having decided for the next few weeks to close up the house, all the remaining servants had been sent ahead to
Amour
earlier that morning. Ordinarily John and Hugh would have ridden horseback and made swifter time on their journey, but they would be driving, owing to the fact that Hugh wanted to leave Micaela with the curricle when he returned to New Orleans.

They left the city immediately after Hugh had taken care of the Husson business. It was midmorning, and the heat had not yet reached its zenith, although it was already warm and muggy. The pair of elegant bays which pulled the curricle moved out smartly, and the gentlemen were afforded a pleasant, cooling breeze for the start of their journey.

As the environs of New Orleans disappeared behind them, they seemed to leave behind their troubles also, and by the time they had been on the road for an hour, both men were relaxed as they conversed idly and enjoyed the passing scenery. Hugh was aware of a burgeoning excitement, a growing eagerness to see Micaela, the brief time they had been parted suddenly seeming endless. He wondered just what sort of reception he would receive from his wife. Cool? Wary? Indifferent? Warm?