Midnight Flame (19 page)

Standing up, Tony grinned. “You’re the first woman I’ve ever asked to marry me.”

“I’m honored,” Laurel told him and with his help pulled down her skirt and fixed her bodice before standing up. “I’m leaving for San Antonio soon. I assure you I feel quite well.”

“The party is off then. I was looking forward to telling Simone that you and I were to be married.”

Her beauty took his breath away when she gave him a tiny smile. He thought he would love her for the rest of his life; in fact he knew he would. After meeting Laurel Delaney, he would
never
marry now. No woman could make him feel the way she did. But she didn’t deserve such a cad for a husband. That was the main reason why he didn’t take her in his arms again or try to change her mind. Perhaps in San Antonio she would meet a nice man and get married and have the children he had hoped to have with her. And this knowledge caused his eyes to harden for a second. He couldn’t bear any man touching her but himself.

“I hope you’ll be very happy in Texas,” he said coolly and so formally that Laurel wondered what had happened to the man who had so recently had love on his face for her. “When you are ready to leave, tell Picard, my groom. He’ll have a carriage waiting to take you to the stage line. Good-bye, Laurel.”

Tony turned away and left the room, closing the door stiffly behind him. Laurel stood in the center of the bedroom, her pulse racing. Part of her wanted to run after Tony to agree to his proposal because she had hurt him, and she knew it. But then she couldn’t marry him. He must realize eventually that she had done him a favor.

Yet, if it hadn’t been for the man who kidnapped her and loved her, she would probably have accepted Tony as her husband. This realization caused her tears to flow, and she cursed that nameless, faceless man for robbing her of her happiness.

~ ~ ~

Laurel had intended to leave as soon as possible, but an early spring thunderstorm, threatening in its intensity, had delayed travel. One week later Laurel was still at Petit Coteau. Her relationship with Tony was friendly but distant. Some nights when Jean visited, she sat in the parlor after supper, but as soon as Tony appeared, dressed in his formal attire, off the two cousins would go to Plonsky’s Opera House. Tony never returned until dawn, and she cursed herself for not being able to fall asleep until she heard his horse’s hoofs on the driveway. Probably, she decided, he had spent the night at Simone’s or at a brothel, and she hated herself for being disturbed by this thought. She would almost think she was in love with him.

To counteract his offhanded treatment of her, she began to take her meals in her room. Gincie wasn’t the least bit pleased by this.

“You ain’t gonna get a husband by eatin’ in here,” she told her sternly. “Bees get caught with honey, not vinegar. Those hard looks I done seen on your face and Mr. Tony’s ain’t the way to make peace.”

Laurel had said nothing to her. She couldn’t say anything in her own defense. She had never told Gincie about the incident in the cabin and wouldn’t do so now. She was too close to leaving for Texas and putting the whole incident from her mind.

One afternoon Laurel woke from a nap to Pauline’s gentle tap at her door. Gincie immediately opened it.

“What do you want?” Gincie asked. “You done woke Miss Laurel.”

Pauline’s face reddened, and she curtseyed to Laurel who sat up.

“I’m sorry, mademoiselle. The man at the stagecoach office sent word that a stage will be leaving tomorrow at noon. The roads are cleared for travel.”

Laurel thanked her and got off the bed. She sat by the dressing table, and Gincie came to stand behind her. Gincie picked up her brush and ran the soft bristles through the long strands of Laurel’s hair.

“Looks like we’ll be leavin’ tomorrow, Miss Laurel.”

“Yes, it does.”

“Ain’t you gonna tell Mr. Tony good-bye?”

“I suppose I shall if he’s around. He seems to sleep during the days now and leaves at night with Monsieur DuLac. It seems as if he’s becoming quite a wastrel.”

“That man’s hurtin’. You ain’t told me what happened between you two, but I got eyes, and that man loves you. You love him, too.”

“No, I don’t.”

Gincie finished brushing Laurel’s hair and stood back with the brush clutched in her hand. “If you was a little girl, I’d be tempted to use this here brush on your bottom. But you ain’t a little girl. You is a grown woman, Miss Laurel, and about high time you started actin’ like one.”

“I don’t need you to chastise me.”

Laurel whirled away from the mirror and sat down by a small table. In front of her was a tray the cook had prepared for her. Roasted duck with rice and a garden salad were there to tempt her, but Laurel only picked at the food. She wasn’t the least bit hungry, nor had she been able to eat lately. In fact she always felt nauseated, and Gincie was forced to go the kitchen to make a mint brew. Still, she couldn’t shake this sickish feeling, especially in the evenings.

“You ain’t eatin’ again.” Gincie’s sharp eyes took in the uneaten food and the sudden whiteness of Laurel’s face. “You feel sick again, don’t you?”

Laurel took a deep breath to keep the sick feeling at bay. “It will pass. It must be the aftereffects of my illness.”

“Like hell it is. Don’t you know what’s ailin’ you, Miss Laurel? Haven’t you figured it out yet?”

Gincie’s probing caused a wave of alarm in Laurel. She didn’t want to think about what Gincie’s questions might mean. “I have a slight indisposition, that’s all.”

“An indisposition that lasts nine months, and you know I’m right. I think you got the evenin’ sickness instead of the mornin’ sickness. You ain’t got your monthlies yet.”

Laurel groaned and held her head in her hand. “Isn’t there anything about me you don’t know, Gincie?”

Gincie came and touched her shoulder, and her voice was gentle.

“You is my baby, Miss Laurel. You took the place of my little Annie who died when she was just a year old. I know as much about you as I did her, and myself. I know when you’re happy and when you’re scared and hurtin’. You is scared now. Did you tell Mr. Duvalier about the baby?”

Laurel lifted her head. “No. There’s no reason to tell him anything. I might not be pregnant at all. This is none of his business.”

“Ha! That man gets you in the family way, and it ain’t his business. Miss Laurel, what is wrong with you?”

Grabbing one of Gincie’s work-worn hands, Laurel said, “Don’t mention any of this to Tony. Please.”

“Don’t you want him to do the right thin’ and marry you?”

How could she tell Gincie that the right thing wasn’t to marry her? If she was pregnant, the child wasn’t his. But Gincie could never know that.

“He already asked to marry me, and I turned him down. Now forget about this. I can assure you I’m not having a baby. We have to leave for Texas tomorrow and have quite a lot to do.”

Gincie started to say something else but didn’t. She didn’t like the warning look in Laurel’s eyes and had decided not to mention anything to Tony. But half an hour later Laurel had the worst case of evening sickness so far, and Gincie decided to find Tony Duvalier, even if she had to storm a house of ill repute to do it.

The longer Gincie dwelled on Laurel’s problem, the more upset she grew. By the time Laurel drifted off to sleep, she was in a dither to find Tony. Convincing Tony’s groom to take her into town at nearly midnight was no easy task, but she made the job easier by giving him a small butterfly brooch that Laurel had given her as a birthday gift. She hated parting with the piece of jewelry, but if it insured Laurel’s happiness, Gincie was content.

However, by the time they reached Washington, the opera house was closed. Picard, the groom, even went to a brothel on the edge of town, but Tony wasn’t there. By now, Gincie was filled with panic that she would never find Tony before the stage left at noon. Then she remembered Jean DuLac, and within minutes she was waiting on the porch of the white-columned house in the center of town.

A dim light glowed in the parlor when a servant let her inside. To her delight she found that Jean was still awake and entertained a sweet-faced young man. At her appearance in the doorway, he stood up and asked her what she was doing there. After a few hesitant starts, Gincie whispered in Jean’s ear that she needed to find Mr. Duvalier.

“Is Miss Delaney in some sort of trouble?” he asked.

“The biggest trouble a lady can get herself in,” she answered.

Jean realized the gravity of the situation immediately and told her he would have Tony home long before the noon departure.

But that wasn’t as easy to do as Jean had originally figured. He went to Tony’s usual haunts in town, but he was nowhere to be found. Then he took his horse and rode in the opposite direction, away from Washington, to Clermont, home of the Lanciers.

A sleepy servant answered his summons, and within minutes Simone rushed down the stairs, a thin wrapper clasped to her voluptuous body. Her golden hair hung down her back like sunlight, and Jean couldn’t help but appreciate what an angelic-appearing beauty she was.

However, when she spoke, her shrewish voice broke the image. “What is the matter, Jean? I was sound asleep. My father has been ill, and you’re here in the middle of the night. In need of some company? Well, I’m not to your taste.”

Simone smirked, and Jean managed a tight laugh. “I’m looking for Tony. Have you seen him?”

“After the way he has treated me since that American trollop has been under his roof? You’re mad to think that I’d even speak to him. Did she send you here? Is that why you’re here? You’re so enamored of the little witch that maybe there’s hope for you yet.”

Jean held up a restraining hand. “There’s no need to get nasty, Simone. I have to find him as soon as possible. If you see him, tell him that he is wanted at home immediately.”

Simone nodded she would, then went upstairs after Jean’s departure. Such a simple request, she thought. But one she would never deliver. Stepping into her bedroom, the soft glow of the candle by her bedside illumined Tony’s large frame, spread-eagled across her bed. She stopped to admire the broadness of his shoulders, the thick pelt of hair on his chest as it tapered to his waist, only to disappear and then bush out across the area of his body that had always held such fascination for her. What a man!

Her hand snaked out, and her fingers gently stroked his naked thigh, feeling the soft hairs on his leg tickle her flesh. Then the exploring trail led to that part of him she wanted to drive deep into her own body, to know again the delights of being Tony’s woman. Her hand grasped it, enfolding it in a soft but firm caress. Almost miraculously she felt the stiffening of his shaft in her hand, and knew that he was hers, that she could do anything she wanted with him. Tony had arrived earlier in a drunken stupor and attempted to make love to her, only to fall asleep soon after he had undressed. She had spent the last two hours waiting for him to wake up and claim her. And now was the moment for which she had waited.

“Tony,
mon amour’’,
she whispered. “I am ready for you.”

For a brief instant he lifted his head. “Laurel?” His eyes fastened on Simone. “You’re not Laurel.” Then his head hit the pillow, and he began to snore.

The object that Simone so coveted fell limply in her hand.

~ ~ ~

Laurel’s trunks were already in the stagecoach when Jean found her moments before departure.

“Please wait until Tony can be located before leaving,” he implored.

Jean appeared so helpless and boy-like with his light blond hair glinting in the sunlight that Laurel almost wished she could grant him this favor and wait for Tony. But she couldn’t. There was nothing else to say to him, and she wouldn’t tell him about the baby. She wasn’t certain if Jean tried to prevent her from leaving out of a sense of loyalty to Tony or if he somehow had guessed she was pregnant. Either way, it didn’t matter any longer. Soon, Tony Duvalier would be out of her life completely as was the man who had captured her heart in the bayou cabin.

“Give Tony my regards,” Laurel told Jean before kissing him on the cheek. She stepped into the Wells Fargo stagecoach as Gincie lumbered in beside her with a worried look in her eyes. With a crack of the whip, the horses started into action, and soon the stagecoach, which contained three other passengers besides Laurel and Gincie, sped down Grand Prairie Road.