She released the dumbfounded Jacob and went immediately into Ward’s waiting arms. Jacob scowled at the pair as he stalked off the dance floor.
“That’s a lovely gown you’re wearing, Miss Sherwood.”
He pulled her closer, feeling her breasts snuggle against his chest. She uttered a deep sigh of pleasure.
“Please call me Angelica, Ward. Or, even better, simply Angel.”
“Angel!” He whispered the name close to her ear. “That fits you—all white and silver like your hair and your gown. My guess is that you have a bit of the devil in your heart.”
“Ward Gabriel!” She tried to sound shocked. Ward knew by the sparkle in her ice-blue eyes and the faint blush on her cheeks that he had pleased her no end.
“You’ve certainly been bedeviling Dr. Saenger. For an engaged man, he seems uncommonly infatuated with his financée’s little sister.”
“Pandora’s not my sister!” Angelica snapped. “She’s only my cousin. Why, my parents never cared enough for her to adopt her legally. As for her claim on Jacob, she must take that rather lightly.”
“Oh? Why do you say that?”
“She ran off to Paris and left him here all alone, didn’t she? The poor man is just dying of loneliness. Why, if he didn’t have me to keep him company, I don’t think he’d survive.”
Ward felt ice down his spine. Hearing Angelica state her case was like listening to a spider, defending her reasons for inviting a fly in to tea.
He wondered if Pandora knew what a threat her cousin truly was. Angelica was no longer the pretty little girl she had been such a short while before. In the two months since Pandora’s departure, Angelica had blossomed. Her strait-laced mother had finally allowed her to cast off childhood and become a woman. Her clothes were different—scandalously-cut designer gowns from Paris. She wore her hair up and twined with jewels. She seemed to have matured physically as well. She was now thinking a woman’s thoughts, scheming a woman’s schemes.
“You must be very fond of Jacob to put forth such an effort to amuse him,” Ward commented.
She laughed softly and her voice dropped. “Fond is hardly the word I’d use. Jacob is good and kind and sweet and gentle.”
Ward’s dark brow rose as he wondered, Gentle at what? He started to ask her, but decided he really didn’t want to hear about it.
“Pandora was just plain foolish to leave him here all alone,” Angelica continued. “It would serve her right if she lost him. Why, if I were engaged to such an attractive man, I’d marry him this minute. It never pays to wait too long, you know.”
Ward laughed. “No, Angel, I don’t know. Fortunately, I’ve yet to meet the woman who makes me think of wedding bells and orange blossoms.”
She cocked her head at a saucy angle and smiled up into his eyes. “Well, Ward Gabriel, maybe you’ve met her at last!”
Ward managed to hold back his laughter. The girl certainly had nerve, he’d give her that. The fact that he was old enough to be her father didn’t stop her from her mating dance.
“Are you—how shall I put this delicately?—throwing your lovely body on my matrimonial altar, so to speak?”
Angelica gasped, truly shocked, but delighted by his boldness. “Mr. Gabriel! Why, I never! You are far too old for me. Papa wouldn’t allow it.”
He grinned at her. “But you would?”
Her eyelashes fluttered like butterflies in flight. “Perhaps,” she purred.
Never taking his eyes off Angelica and Ward, Jacob refilled his punch cup from the great silver bowl.
He experienced the oddest sensations as he watched the pair. He felt betrayed and alone and downright jealous. That was ridiculous, of course. Angel meant nothing to him. She was a lovely, warm, exciting young woman to spend an evening with now and again. But that was all. He had Pandora, and soon they would be married just as he had always planned. So why did the sight of Ward Gabriel holding Angelica close, whispering to her quietly, enjoying himself so thoroughly bring such a twisting pain to his gut?
He ladled another cup and drank it down, still watching them.
“What kind of woman are you looking for, Ward?” Angelica asked innocently.
“What kind of woman or what kind of wife?” Ward purposely leered at her as he asked the question. He was determined to frighten her into acting her tender age.
Angelica cuddled closer and whispered, “Dear me, you say the most shocking things. What kind of wife, of course.”
Ward cocked his head and looked thoughtful for a time. “Well, she must be cultured, a gifted hostess, of good family, preferably wealthy, and quite beautiful.”
“But what about love, Ward?”
He gave her a bleak smile. “What about it, Angel? Do you still believe in fairytales?”
“Well, no,” she stammered. “But I always figured that there’s a man somewhere meant just for me and that I’d find him and fall in love one day.”
“I hate to burst your pretty bubble, but love is an illusion. If you believe that there is only one person in the whole world who’s meant for you, then you are out of luck if that lover happens to live in China or even in Houston, aren’t you?”
Angelica pouted, looking truly perplexed. She didn’t like having to think about such things. If she wanted to fall in love, she would. She didn’t care what Ward Gabriel said.
Ward’s voice and the tightening of his embrace drew her attention once more. “Perhaps you don’t mean love, Angelica. Perhaps what you’re longing for is passion. That is very real and it can be found quite easily.”
“You shouldn’t say such things to a lady!” Angelica gasped.
“Why not? Are you telling me you’ve never known passion? Not even for Jacob Saenger?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Mr. Gabriel.”
He had her flustered now—on the run. Good. She deserved it.
“When Jacob kisses you, do you feel weak and hot all over?”
“I never said… I never let him kiss me! Not that way!”
“Perhaps you’re feeling passion right this moment, Angel.” He whispered the words beside her ear. “You are very warm, perspiring in fact. Most unladylike. I can even feel your breasts trembling against my chest.”
“Oh!” she cried. Pushing out of his arms, she ran for the nearest door and out into the night.
Ward cursed softly, feeling his face flame. People were staring. He’d gone too far with his little game. Horace Sherwood would be outraged when he found out his daughter had been embarrassed in public, and by one of his own employees. Ward would likely lose his position and all for the pleasure of making little Miss Angelica squirm a bit for Pandora’s sake.
Shouldering his way through the crowd, Ward headed for the door to find Angelica. He would have to apologize. Too bad he wasn’t drunk. He could have used that as his excuse.
Jacob saw Angelica tear away from Ward and run out the door. She looked upset. He should go see about her. He was her escort and she was his responsibility for the evening, he reminded himself. But the butler had just refilled the punch bowl. And besides, Ward was going out to check on her. She’d be all right. After all, Ward had taken good care of Pandora, hadn’t he? He could do as well with Angelica.
He’d just pour himself a fresh cup, sip it along, and then he’d go find Angel.
Angelica knew Ward would come after her. She only hoped that Jacob wouldn’t follow. She’d dashed out so quickly—perhaps her escort had taken no notice. He was getting quite drunk, not an uncommon occurrence lately. Her little fun in the garden would serve him right.
She hid behind a large oleander bush until she saw Ward coming down the steps.
“Angelica, where are you?” he called softly. “I know you’re out here. Answer me. I only want to apologize. I was out of line.”
Angelica worked herself into a suitable state of hysterics. Ward heard her sobs and followed the sound. He found her collapsed l
ike a crumpled white flower on one of the garden seats. He felt utterly ashamed of himself, especially since he knew that his disgraceful performance with Angelica had something—no, everything—to do with the way he felt about Pandora. Since that night in her hotel room, he hadn’t been able to get her out of his system.
He went to the weeping girl and touched her shoulder. “Angelica, please stop crying and listen to me. I’m sorry. I acted like a perfect cad. A gentleman has no right to say such things to a lady. Since you are definitely a lady, I suppose that makes me no gentleman at all.”
Suddenly, Angelica gripped his hand tightly and brought it to her cheek. Soon she was showering his fingers with kisses.
“Oh, Ward, you don’t need to apologize. Don’t you understand? Those things you said to me in there—they were all true. When you held me in your arms, I grew weak and warm all over. My breasts did tremble, they’re trembling now.” Still clutching his hand, she pressed his palm to her chest—to the warm, damp flesh just above the low-cut neckline.
“Angelica, no!” he growled, jerking his hand away. “You don’t know what you’re saying. Just tell me that you accept my apology and I’ll go.”
He was backing away slowly, waiting for her answer. Suddenly, she rushed at him, throwing her arms around his neck and smothering his mouth with hot, wet kisses.
“Ward, oh, Ward.” she breathed through her attack. “You make me feel like a real woman! Kiss me. Oh, please kiss me.”
He was trying to get away from her, trying to unclasp her arms from around her neck, but she had locked him in her embrace. Her mouth was open on his and her tongue smoothing over his lips.
“Angelica? Are you out here?”
Ward put extra effort into his escape when he heard Jacob Saenger’s voice behind him. He broke free at last, but not in time.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing, Gabriel?” Jacob was unsteady on his feet and he slurred his words drunkenly.
“Simply apologizing, Jacob, and saying good night.” He backed away toward the garden gate, but Saenger stumbled after him.
“What exactly were you apologizing for?” he demanded.
“I said something to upset Miss Sherwood, that’s all. Now if you’ll both excuse me…”
Ward turned to unlatch the gate. Jacob threw an uncertain punch.
“Nobody fools with Angel, but me!” Jacob roared.
Avoiding a glancing blow to the side of the head, Ward hurried through the gate. Slamming it behind him, he saw Angelica rush to Jacob.
“Oh, darling!” she cried. “Oh, Jacob dearest, are you hurt?”
Angelica quickly found Jacob’s mouth and gave him the kiss she had meant for Ward.
“Damn good thing I’m leaving Galveston in the morning,” Ward muttered as he headed at a quick stride for his house on the beach.
Pandora had slept miserably on Sunday night and had awakened with the dawn the morning of her second visit with Dr. Pinel. The rain had stopped, leaving Paris spanking clean and the skies brilliant with the luminous colors of sunrise.
Without waking Cassie, Pandora had dressed, written a hasty note to her companion, and headed on foot to the Louvre. She knew she would have a long morning, waiting for her appointment, if she did not find something to occupy her mind.
Now, as she strolled the vast halls of the silent museum, she felt totally immersed in Rubens, Rembrandt, Titian, and Caravaggio. Here and there, students sat silently before their easels copying the great masters of old. Pandora felt that she had the fabulous collection of art all to herself. For a time, she was able to forget her visions, her problems, her very existence. She lived and breathed Tournament Near A Castle, Christ Crowned With Thorns, and Women of Algiers.
She became totally entranced by the world of art about her. She never wanted to leave the Louvre. A glance at the fragile, gold watch fastened to her lapel, told her she hadn’t much time left. It was nearing eleven. Another half hour and she would have to leave for Dr. Pinel’s office. She sighed with regret and walked a bit faster, wanting to see everything in the short time that remained.
Her inner peace remained undisturbed until she turned suddenly and spied a gleaming marble on the stairway—the Venus de Milo. In an instant, the Grande Galerie and everything in it vanished in a swirl of confused, glowing colors. Once more, she stood outside the Eden Musée in New York on Ward Gabriel’s arm, staring at the terrible fake perpetrated on the armless Goddess of Love.
“Two please,” she heard Ward say as he purchased their tickets for the chamber of horrors.
Then, the time that had been lost to her until now, unfurled before her eyes. She saw again Nicolette Laffite’s tableau of death and again felt the bullet pierce her own breast. She remembered the night, the visions. Everything that she had experienced under hypnosis returned to her mind. She knew the terror of the hurricane and her fear that her husband was lost. Before the colors swirled again to dissolve the scenes, she knew it all. With this new clarity of vision, Pandora saw into her past life. The woman named Nicolette was a part of her even now.
In the next moment, a troubling thought struck her. What of Jean Laffite? With his passionate love for his wife and his shock and grief at her sudden death, he must surely have come back to find her. Where was he now? Who was he?
“Jacob?” Pandora whispered softly. A frown stole over her face and she shook her head as a bleak chill closed around her heart.
When her head cleared, Pandora touched her lapel watch with trembling fingers. Only a few moments had passed. She hurried out of the museum and hailed a carriage, giving the driver directions to Dr. Pinel’s office.
“You are early!” Madame Celeste accused when Pandora entered.
Before Pandora could respond, Dr. Pinel stepped out of his office. He noticed her agitation at once and, without a word, motioned her to come with him.
“What’s happened?” he demanded.
Pandora sank to the familiar couch and poured out her tale to the doctor. She told him everything she had seen while she stood before the statue of Venus in the Louvre. Pandora looked up at the doctor with pleading in her eyes, willing him to reaffirm her belief in her own reincarnation. “It’s true, Doctor, I’m sure of it. What I’ve just told you is the same as you heard from me while I was in trance, isn’t it?”
The doctor nodded. “Exactly Pandora, but it proves nothing except that you can spin a fine tale.”
“I know I was Nicolette!” she insisted.
Pinel shrugged. “Believe what you wish, but what is the point?”
She glared at him, her eyes blazing. “The point is that now I know my purpose in life. I must find Jean Laffite!”
“You can’t be serious!”
Pandora stared down at her hands. She had worried her thin handkerchief to shreds as she talked. “What am I going to do, Doctor? Am I truly going mad? How do I know these things, if I haven’t lived them before? Where do they come from?”
Dr. Pinel sat down beside her and covered her hands with his, knowing that he had been too sharp with her. “I’m sorry, Pandora, I have no answers for you.”
Her eyes searched his face. “You don’t actually believe that all these things really happened—that I lived before?”
He shook his head. “I don’t think you really believe it either.”
Pandora gave up arguing with the man. “So, where do we go from here, Doctor?” she asked in a disheartened voice.
Pinel had already given this question much thought. Pandora could not keep the thread of this fantastic narrative going forever. For some reason unknown to him, she wished to believe in this dream of hers. By delving deeply, he might be able to prove the unreality of her beliefs. He would demand more details today.
“Will you consent to being hypnotized again, Pandora? It could be that we can find the source of this problem locked away in your subconscious.”
She considered his proposal for only a few moments be
fore she agreed. “But only if I am allowed to remember everything this time.”
“As you wish.”
Pandora lay back on the couch, ready to begin. As soon as Madame Celeste entered with her pad and pen, Dr. Pinel’s calm voice filled the quiet room. He had hardly finished his first sentence before Pandora slipped into a deep hypnotic trance. This time he told her that she would remember everything when she awoke.
“Nicolette? Are you there?” Dr. Pinel asked.
“I am,” answered the woman on the couch. “What do you want with me?”
“I have only a few questions. Can you tell me your father’s name?”
She laughed. “Who in New Orleans does not know my father? His name is Claude Vernet and he deals in import goods.”
Dr. Pinel glanced at Madame Celeste, frowning. He had not expected such a quick and thorough answer. “You mentioned an aunt who lives in Paris? What is her name?”
“She is my mother’s sister, but she doesn’t live in Paris now. She left there after her husband died and came back to New Orleans with me. She was against the marriage my father had arranged. She did not believe in the old Creole ways. She said love was the only reason to marry. She approved of Jean. I should have listened to her.”
“Her name?” Dr. Pinel insisted.
“Madame Gabrielle Vernet.”
“Vernet?” the doctor questioned. “You said she was your mother’s sister, yet she bears your father’s name?”
“She married a Frenchman named DelaCroix first. For many years after his death, she remained a widow. After my mother died, Aunt Gabi married my father. They had been in love when they were young. Vernet, of course, became her name then.”
Dr. Pinel was not smiling. Pandora’s answers were all too detailed to please him. Try as he might, he could not trip her up. He decided to put an end to the session.
“That’s exactly what I wanted to know. Nicolette, I must say farewell for a time. Pandora, when I count to three and snap my fingers, you will awake, feeling rested and refreshed.”
A moment later, Pandora sat up and looked directly at him. “Well?” she demanded. “Are you convinced now? How could I have known the right answers, if Nicolette and I are not one and the same?”
Forever, For Love Page 17
