PHANTOM IN TIME (21 page)

***

An
hour later, when Bella crept into the darkened apartment, she could hear low
moans of pleasure drifting out from Helene's bedroom. She realized Helene and
Tommy must be in bed together, making love. At first she felt shocked . . . but
then, this
was
the Gay Nineties, wasn't it?

Feeling
like a voyeur, she tiptoed over to the Grecian couch and lay down. Still, she
could hear the provocative mating sounds—the whimpers and groans, the little
sighs of pleasure—and they reminded her poignantly of her moments with Jacques
tonight. His parting kiss outside her door had been particularly sweet. Longing
coursed through her anew as she realized she hungered to be with him now in
that same seductive, velvety darkness, naked beside him in his bed . . .

Oh,
Lord, what was she going to do?

***

Jacques
stood in his dressing gown on the small balcony outside his bedroom, smoking a
cheroot in the darkness. Normally, he did not smoke—tobacco ruined the
voice—but he needed extra consolation tonight.

The
sweetness of the garden enveloped him, and the sound of the tinkling fountain
floating up from the patio. High in the sky, a full moon glowed and a thousand
stars glittered.

Yet
he was alone, awash in painful longing. He had left Bella only an hour ago, yet
he missed her intensely. An ancient poet's words flitted through his mind:

Christ,
that my love were in my arms,

And
I in my bed again!

How
he ached for Bella to share this magical night. He yearned to hold her naked
against him in his bed, to make love to her all night long.

She
had trembled so sweetly in his arms, and her kisses had been eager and
delicious. The discovery that she was a virgin had filled him with desire and
pride. Of course the signs had been there all along, but now the realization
that he would become the first man to make love to her was heady and
exhilarating.

And
have her he would, for she fascinated him, like a puzzle that took a new turn
each time he tried to solve it. Every day he found himself wanting her more,
not just to possess her lovely body, but to unravel all her mysteries.

She
was such an enigma, part possessive lioness, part shy maiden. Tonight she had
railed out in jealousy at his kissing the chorus girls, yet she had resisted
his advances. And why hadn't she sung with him? Had her unfortunate experience
as a child, when her parents had pushed her to take the stage, left her
hopelessly trapped in her own fear, unable to become fulfilled as either a
singer or a woman? And what was the true reason for her bizarre appearance in
his life two nights ago?

There
was far more to Bella than met the eye, and Jacques relished discovering the
woman inside her. Tonight he had gleaned one important insight regarding her:
Bella's passion was the key to Bella. And as far as Jacques LeFevre was
concerned, no secret of Bella's was safe from him.

Chapter Nineteen

Back
to Contents

Bella
sat in the mostly deserted auditorium, listening to Jacques rehearsing a solo.
He stood alone at center stage—tall and devastatingly handsome, wearing a white
shirt and dark pants. As Mr. Raspberry played the accompaniment, he sang
Stutt’s “The Sweetest Story Ever Told” in his thrilling tenor voice. Today, as
had happened so often during rehearsals, Bella got the feeling that Jacques was
singing directly to her, wooing her with his voice:

Oh,
answer me a question, love, I pray,

My
heart for thee is pining day by day . . .

Tell
me, do you love me?

Tell
me softly, sweetly as of old!

Tell
me that you love me,

For
that's the sweetest story ever told.

Chills
coursed over Bella as Jacques held her gaze with his own and stirred her soul
with his passionate singing. How much longer would she be able to resist him?
she wondered achingly. When she heard him like this, she hungered to become one
with him in every way. She yearned to sing with him, just as she had longed to
join him in song on the riverboat—and much as she had feared the consequences!

Still,
Jacques LeFevre and his passionate approach to life and music seemed to be
spurring profound changes in Bella. At odd moments when she was alone, such as
in the bathtub this morning, she found herself bursting into song, singing
selections from the revue such as “After the Ball” or “My Heart at Thy Sweet
Voice.”

Rehearsals
of “Three Little Maids from School” were going well, too. Singing her part in
the trio was not nearly as daunting as Bella had feared, especially with Helene
there to encourage her. At times such as these when music seemed so much an
integral part of her, Bella always felt closer to her goal of singing for
Gran—assuming she could ever make her way back to dear Gran!—yet she also felt
closer to Jacques, and this left her confused and ambivalent.

A
week had passed since he had taken her on the riverboat cruise. Three more
times, he had talked her into going out on the town with him. They'd dined at
Commander's Palace, attended a minstrel show at the Audubon Theatre, even
played roulette in a gaming hall in the area that was soon to become
Storyville. Bella had observed how hedonistic Jacques was, often gambling,
drinking, and staying out till the wee hours. She often had to beg him to take
her home at a reasonable hour. She'd also noted to her chagrin that he never
failed to tip his hat at a comely lady, or even to kiss the pretty girls at the
dance hall or in the chorus.

Yet
despite all Jacques's faults and excesses, Bella felt a decadent thrill at his
masterful wooing, his silken flattery and fervent kisses. He was utterly
shameless in his determination to bed her, and even this she found endearing.

She
wanted Jacques very much, but still feared becoming involved with him when she
could never truly share his world. Besides, wasn't it much more important that
she lay aside her personal feelings for now and concentrate on saving his life?
The premiere of
Kaleidoscope
was rapidly approaching, her opportunity to
save him trickling away. Although she zealously observed other members of the
company, looking for hints of homicidal tendencies, to her frustration she
seemed no closer to zeroing in on his would-be murderer. Indeed, there were too
many potential suspects—both Maria Fortune and Teresa Obregón seemed fascinated
with him, as were all the girls in the chorus, who acted possessive of Jacques
and jealous of one another. The men in the company—particularly Andre Delgado
and Claude Fortune—viewed Jacques with contempt.

Bella
also fretted over Gran, and agonized about getting back to her somehow. Every
time the company rehearsed going “through the kaleidoscope,” she wondered if
she would become swept back to the present. Yet so far she'd seen not even a
hint of the world she'd left behind, and she was beginning to wonder if she
would ever return there.

But
Gran's health was so fragile. What if Isabella died while she was away? Bella
continued to feel intensely torn between her desire to return to the present
and her desire to help Jacques. And she even wondered how she would react if
given an opportunity to leave. Would she eagerly slip back to the twentieth
century, or would she panic and try to cling to her new life here? Such
questions left her fraught with turmoil and guilt, hopelessly conflicted. Even
though she suspected her destiny was not in her own hands, she still felt in
the impossible position of having to choose between Jacques's life and Gran's.

Jacques
now finished his song, to scattered applause from the few company members
sitting in the audience. He took a bow, grinned, and winked at Bella. Again,
she experienced that treacherous surge of excitement she always did at his
attentions.

Then
she watched Maria Fortune stride onstage with her prima-donna air. She made a
beeline for Jacques, touching his arm as she lavishly complimented him on his
singing. Claude Fortune trudged into view to watch his wife's flirtation with
sullen mien. After a moment, he tugged Maria away, and several giggling chorus
girls came forward to flirt with Jacques.

Bella
made a sound of frustrated anger. How could she ever hope to lure Jacques away
from so many others? She knew he was in fact flirting with his own death, but
he was heedless. She caught him craning his neck, obviously trying to catch her
eye, but it was too late as far as she was concerned. Feeling disgusted with
him, she got up and headed for the wings. She needed to fetch her props to
rehearse “She Is More to Be Pitied Than Censured,” anyway.

Near
the stage, Toby rushed up to greet her, a smile lighting his young, thin face.
“Hi, Bella, how are you doing today?”

Watching
Andre Delgado and Teresa Obregón take the stage to go over their duet, Bella
ruffled the boy's hair. They had become good friends over the past week. “Oh,
I'm fine. How are things at home?”

The
boy shrugged a thin shoulder, and his features tightened. “About the same. Mama
and Papa don't even know I'm there.”

Bella
sighed. “I know they love you, Toby. It's just that a career in the theater is
often so all-consuming. I know it was that way for my parents.”

The
boy was silent, his gaze lowered.

The
sound of an angry feminine voice turned Bella's attention to the stage. She
gasped, seeing Teresa Obregón slap Andre Delgado soundly across the face. Andre
stood holding his cheek, while she shouted at him in rapid Spanish and waved
her arms.

“Well,
would you look at that!” Bella cried.

“I
think Andre wants Teresa back,” whispered Toby.

Bella
gazed wide-eyed at the boy, noting the mischievous glint in his eyes. “You knew
they were once sweethearts?”

He
pulled a comic face. “Gee whiz, Bella, everyone knows.”

Bella
laughed.

Toby
cupped a hand around his mouth. “Anyhow, lately Andre keeps trying to kiss
Teresa, and she keeps slapping him.”

Bella
slanted the lad a chiding look. “Toby, have you been eavesdropping on them?”

He
gestured toward the stage. “Anyone can see what's going on. He even tries to
kiss her while they're practicing their duet.”

Watching
the couple, Bella had to agree. While Andre pleaded, Teresa continued to rant
and gesture angrily. Bella could hear Etienne shouting from the auditorium; he
obviously resented having his rehearsal disrupted this way.

Then,
to Bella's chagrin, Jacques marched onstage and tried to intervene. Teresa
rushed up to him, clinging to his arm and feigning a helpless, tragic look,
while he and Andre exchanged angry words. A moment later, after shouting a
warning to Andre, Jacques walked Teresa off the stage, his arm around her
waist. Andre glared after them.

Bella
was seething. “That rogue,” she muttered.

“Yeah,
he'd better watch out or Andre's gonna kill him,” said the boy.

Wide-eyed,
Bella regarded Toby. “Are you sure? Do you really think Andre would try to harm
Jacques?”

He
rolled his eyes. “Gee, Bella, you heard them shouting at each other.”

“I
did indeed.”

“But
Andre isn't the only one mad at Jacques,” Toby continued. “I've heard Claude
telling Maria how much he hates him, and sometimes the chorus girls get upset
with him, too.”

“Everyone
wants to kill him,” said Bella dully.

The
two fell silent as Andre stalked past them, grim-faced.

Toby
stared after him. “You know, it's sad, isn't it, Bella?”

She
turned to him. “What's sad?”

“Andre
wants Teresa, and Teresa wants Jacques.”

Bella
smiled at the boy, who suddenly seemed old beyond his years. She patted his
shoulder. “You're very observant, my young friend.”

Toby’s
features grew fraught with concern and he clutched Bella's hand. “You don't
want Jacques, do you, Bella? I mean, he's just like old Georgie Porgie, kissing
all the girls and making them cry.”

Bella
had to laugh at the apt description.

Toby's
plaintive gaze beseeched Bella. “Gee whiz, Bella, don't let him break your
heart. I mean . . . you don't love him, do you?”

A
powerful chill swept Bella as she realized that, despite all, perhaps she did!

Chapter Twenty

Back
to Contents

“Bella,
I spoke with Jacques today,” said Helene, “and he agreed the three of us should
go over to Basin Street tonight to hear Tommy play.”

At
the apartment that evening, Bella was seated on the settee, reading a short
article in the
New Orleans Herald
entitled “Famous Blooms May Serenade
New Orleans.” Once Helene's words registered, she crumpled the paper in her lap
and glanced up at her friend in alarm.

“You
told Jacques we'd both go out with him tonight?”

The
girl blanched at Bella's sharp tone. “Why, yes. It's your first payday, Bella.
Wouldn't you like to celebrate?”

Bella
slanted her friend a chiding glance. “You wouldn't accept nearly enough of my
wages. I'm still far too indebted to you.”

Helene
waved her off. “Oh, don't be silly, you don't owe me that much. You can always
repay the rest later, if you insist. But a girl should squirrel away a little
of her earnings for fun, don't you think?”

“Wages
for sin?” Bella quipped.

“Indeed.
And tonight you needn't spend a dime, since Jacques is treating us.” At Bella's
sudden frown, Helene tentatively asked, “Is there a problem?”

“Well,
yes. I wish you had asked me first. And this place where Tommy works—isn't it
rather disreputable?”

Helene
laughed. “Oh, it's not that bad.”