Wronged (Book 1)

by Sylvia McDaniel

  ***

  On Monday of the next week, Louis walked into Marian’s office early that morning and announced, “Gather what you need. We’re going on a learning excursion.”

  “A what?” she asked, annoyed that he just bounded into her office and expected her to drop everything.

  “I’m taking you down to the docks to see how Cuvier Shipping operates,” he explained. “To understand this business you need to see it from start to finish.”

  “Oh,” she said looking bewildered. “But the docks. Do I need to go see men loading our boats? I’ve been down there before.”

  “If you want to understand how the business works you’ll come with me. After all, this is what we’re all about.”

  She gazed at him, a frown furrowing her forehead. “It’s not that I don’t want to learn, it’s just not a place I feel safe.”

  He smiled. “Don’t worry. You’ll be safe with me.”

  “Somehow your reassurances don’t make me feel any better.” She sighed. “Give me five minutes and I’ll meet you up front.”

  “Jon is bringing the carriage around, so hurry.” Marian cleared her desk and closed with a snap the journal she was working on. She picked up her hat and pinned the bonnet in her hair and then grabbed her reticule, heading out the door.

  She met Louis at the front door and watched as his eyes roamed over her and then returned to the top of her head, where her favorite bonnet sat perched. “Are you going to wear that thing?”

  “What’s wrong with my hat?” she asked him.

  “It has feathers in it. We’re not going for a stroll, mind you.”

  She raised her eyes heavenward, trying to see the pointed brim of the mauve hat that sat at an angle on her head.

  “I rather like this hat.”

  “Suit yourself. Reminds me of a pink chicken.”

  “Never seen one myself. Do you get these visions often or just when you’ve imbibed too much?” she asked.

  He turned and gazed at her, a coy smile of mischief on his face. “Oh, I do think I’m going to enjoy spending some time on the docks with you.”

  She smiled. “Is the buggy here?”

  “Yes,” he said, the word clipped short.

  “Then let’s go.”

  “Yes, Ma’am,” he said holding the door open for her as she strolled out into the warm sunshine.

  When they reached the buggy, he helped her into the vehicle, climbed in after her, and took the reins from Jon.

  He thanked the man and slapped the reins gently on the back of the horse as the buggy began to slowly roll down the street. They were within blocks of the docks and often Marian passed them on her way to the office.

  As they traveled down the road, the horse’s hooves clop-clopped against the stones in the road.

  “Tell me exactly what you’re going to show me today,” Marian questioned, noticing the way the wind tousled his short brown hair.

  “Well, I thought first I would introduce you to the crew of the Natchez and the ship’s captain. I thought the captain could explain to you what his crew does. Afterwards, I thought we might have lunch somewhere before returning to the office.”

  “All right,” she said. Even though he had agreed to teach her all about the business, she was still wary of his motives.

  They turned the corner onto Canal Street and she could see by the merchandise piled on the wharves that the port of New Orleans was extremely busy.

  Different colored flags stood beside the piles of merchandise and cargo. Marian stared at the men who bustled around tossing sacks of grain and heaving bundles of cotton onto the ships.

  “What are the flags for?” she questioned.

  “That’s how the stevedores, the men who load and unload the ships, locate their cargos. Each company has its own flag and that guides the stevedores to where the cargo is either waiting to be loaded or needs to be transferred to the warehouse,” he said pointing out the workers who were carrying large sacks on their heads.

  “I know our principal cargo is sugar and cotton, but there has to be more here than just those crops,” said Marian.

  Louis leaned closer to her. “The bags that man has on his head are filled with coffee beans. Then there are the banana boats that come in from Latin America and one of our newest customers, The United Fruit Company, is about to vie with Mr. Morgan for the top spot in our company.”

  Marian turned and stared at Louis, the question that had troubled her most recently on her lips. “From the looks of the docks, I’d say business is booming. Then, why do you seem eager to sell Cuvier Shipping?”

  He pulled on the reins until the buggy came to a halt, and he set the brake. Then he turned to face her. “The industry is going through some changes. Since the war, the docks of New Orleans have been in pitiful shape. The dockage fees are higher than in the larger ports, and we’re no longer a main port for business; plus the steamboat is dying. The twentieth century will be upon us soon and I want to do something different.”

  She felt a trickle of fear and for the first time wondered if she were doing the right thing by holding tight to the family business. Yet how could she trust Louis to tell her the truth? Could this be just another tactic to scare her into staying away from the business or, even better, into selling everything to him?

  “Well, from all the cargo I see, things don’t look that bad.”

  “You’re absolutely right. But you’ve just had your first lesson about shipping. Now let’s go meet Captain Pool and let him give you your second lesson.”

  Louis climbed down from the buggy and came around to help her alight. As he went to lift her out of the small vehicle, she felt a sharp tug on the bottom of her skirt as she tripped. For a brief second she was afraid as she felt herself falling. Then Louis caught her and held her tightly as her body slammed full into his arms, her breasts smashing against his chest, her face mere inches from his.

  A feeling of safety overcame her as she gazed up into blue eyes that shone brighter than an early morning sky. Feeling his chest beneath her own beating heart was warm and somehow right.

  “Oh my,” she said, unable to look away, feeling breathless as she stared deep into those fathomless blue eyes.

  “Are you all right?” he asked, his deep voice tender.

  “Yes,” she managed to say as she lingered for just a moment, the feel of his embrace warm, comforting.

  With a start she realized her skirt draped from the buggy to herself, exposing the back of her limbs in an embarrassing exhibit of pantaloons.

  She stepped out of his arms and tried to pull down the offensive garment, but the snag was out of her reach leaving her exposed to the men on the docks.

  The sound of catcalls resounded and Marian felt her face begin to flame. She had just made her entrance into this manly world in a definitely unique way. One that wouldn’t win her acclaim for her talented business skills, but rather for her more earthy gifts that she’d obviously never known she possessed before.

  Realizing her problem, Louis stepped forward, blocking the view of her lace pantaloons from the men on the dock.

  “Get back to work,” he barked at them in a voice that brooked no argument.

  Then he leaned around her, unhooking the hem that had become snagged.

  With her cheeks burning with embarrassment, she brushed the skirt back into place and lifted her chin. “Thank you.”

  “My pleasure,” he said, his blue eyes wide, his pupils dancing with a mischievous light, though he was gentlemen enough not to mention the fact that every man on the dock, including himself, could now describe, in colorful detail, her undergarments.

  She took a deep breath and slowly released it to gather her wits, while he stood waiting for her.

  He held out his arm. “Shall we?”

  “Of course,” she replied, still feeling somewhat unnerved by her ghastly exhibition.

  They walked to the waiting boat where men loaded bags of coffee beans on a flatboat barge and gawked a
t the sight of a woman. The dockworkers’ language was coarse and colorful as they shouted to one another, until they realized a lady stood in their midst.

  “I thought we had only steamships?” she questioned.

  “No our fleet has both steamships and flatboats. The steamers are slowly disappearing and we needed the flatboats for the smaller loads we haul up and down the Mississippi.”

  “Oh,” she said feeling like there was so much she didn’t yet know. Jean had never shared any details of the business and she felt so inept. But she would learn everything she could, even down here on the docks. Even at the risk of almost falling on her face or exposing her limbs.

  Then she saw the man who had greeted her the very first day she had appeared at the office. “Oh no, that’s Captain Paul. I thought you said we were meeting Captain Pool?”

  “Pool, Paul.” Louis frowned. “The names are so similar. I forgot I’m sorry, it slipped my mind about your earlier meeting. If you’d feel more comfortable with someone else, we could do this another day.”

  Marian gave Louis a quick glance. Had he really forgotten about their previous meeting or could this be a new tactic to frighten her away?

  “Not a problem. I’m sure we’ll get along just fine,” she said, determined that before she left this boat, Captain Paul would be her friend.

  They crossed the gangplank, the sound of their footsteps echoing against the wood.

  “Mrs. Cuvier,” Captain Paul called. “Welcome aboard.”

  Well, at least he wasn’t calling her darling, she thought as she stepped on board the rocking flatboat.

  “Thank you,” she said trying to find her balance on the moving deck, the feel of Louis’s strong hand beneath her elbow lending support. If she distrusted him so, why did the touch of his hand feel so comforting?

  “So what are you here to learn?” the Captain asked.

  “Everything that you think I should know. I want to understand the business from beginning to end,” she replied, her voice growing excited at the prospect. “And I hope that you’ll be your bluntly honest self.”

  The Captain grinned. “I always am, Ma’am. This time, though, I’m not suffering from a bloody awful hangover.”

  “Good. I’ll remember to ask next time how you’re feeling. You can be quite nasty, Captain.”

  He smiled and then began to explain to her the different deck hands and their rank and file onboard, and how each hand was responsible for a certain job on the boat.

  Captain Paul strode across the deck and Marian gingerly followed him, Louis at her side, touching her elbow with his fingertips when he thought she needed a steadying hand. Captain Paul described the different parts of the boat, making clear what starboard meant and what a masthead was, how most days the sails were what got them down the mighty Mississippi. He then went on to explain about the different cargos and how the larger ships traveled up the coastline into either Charleston or Boston ports.

  After the man had talked for over thirty minutes, Marian glanced at Louis who stood beside her frowning.

  For some reason, he didn’t appear pleased.

  “Well, Ma’am, I don’t know what else to tell you. I could spend a lot more time givin’ you the tiny details of a voyage on this here boat, but some things are better experienced. Mr. Fournet should take you out for a ride sometime in one of the company boats,” said Captain Paul.

  “That’s an excellent idea. I would love to today, but I’ve already taken up so much of your time,” she said.

  “Can’t do it today, Ma’am, as we need to shove off here in a few minutes. I see the boys have finished loadin’ and we must be gone.”

  Marian smiled at the Captain. “You know we may not have gotten off to a great start, but you’ve been downright gracious to spend all this time with me. I really do appreciate it, Captain Paul.”

  “My pleasure, Ma’am.”

  “Well, we best be going so that you can get underway.” She started for the gangplank that led back to shore. “Come on, Louis.”

  “So long,” the Captain called.

  Marian reached the gangplank and walked across it to dry ground. Louis stayed close to her side.

  She smiled at him. “This was a great idea, Louis. It’s turned out to be a wonderful day and I’ve learned so much about the business. I even made friends with Captain Paul now!” She paused and noticed he didn’t seem quite as happy. “Thank you.”

  “You bet,” he replied, tartly.

  She glanced at him and noticed the tightness around his mouth and eyes. “Are you all right?”

  “I’m fine,” he responded. “We need to get back!”