After The Lies

by Mandessa Selby

  The sound of more horses stopped him. He faded back into the shadows and crouched as still as he could. He could hear the woman laughing as several other officers rode up and dismounted their horses. “General,” one of the young officers said, “you shouldn’t ride so far ahead of us.”

  The General laughed. “What man wouldn’t want to be along with a beautiful woman?”

  The woman laughed. “Oh, Monty. You are so droll.”

  Rafe shrank back as silently as he could. He’d missed his opportunity. For now.

  “Monty,” the woman said, “Hold still. Stop charging around like you own the place.”

  “But my dear, I’m a General. I practically do.”

  “Mon Dieu. If you keep babbling I will lose the light. How can I paint a portrait then?” The woman opened a box and unpacked a book which she opened and glanced at.

  Rafe watched eagerly wanting to understand what she was doing. She seemed to have little tubes of something in the box along with another pad of paper. She picked up black sticks and sat cross-legged on the ground. “Sit on the rock, Monty. And hold still. I want you to look your best for Maud.” She started scribbling on the paper and Rafe’s curiosity was piqued. “I have so much to do before the light fades.”

  The other officers dismounted. Rafe studied them all. One of the officers inched away from the group and melted back into the brush. Rafe watched him fascinated. He slid through the underbrush, disappointed at losing his chance to kill a General and eased back toward the rotting log.

  The officer knelt down and thrust a bag into the log. Rafe grinned. The information he’d been waiting for had finally been delivered. The officer slipped away and Rafe found a place to wait until everyone had left. Still and silent, he watched them through the leaves of the bushes. The woman laughed and flirted with all the men.

  She was beautiful with rich black hair and dancing green eyes. Her skin was like ivory and Rafe found himself admiring her. Not the way he admired his wife, but the way a man admired a pretty woman. A pity she was one of them. Someday Rafe would kill her, too.

  * * *

  Callie glared at Captain Luc. “I only need one dress and you told her five.”

  Callie stood on a stool while Eloise pinned up the hem of an ivory silk dress that Luc had to admit looked stunning on Callie. He rubbed his throbbing temples. After a good night’s sleep and a long bath, he’d awakened to a thick, humid day with storm clouds filling the sky. Though the day had started out well, the moment the woman, Eloise, had arrived, Callie had changed into a stubborn mule, balking at the idea of so many new clothes. She’d dug her heels in and argued with him until a headache raged behind his eyes.

  “What will I do with five dresses at Fort Duncan? Muck out the stables.” She held up her hands. “Scout for Comanche with my hem flapping around my ankles and scaring my horse half to death. Some scout I’d be.”

  He counted on his fingers. “Not Fort Duncan, but later, when you own your own farm and you become part of a community. Then you will need more than one dress. You need a dress for dinner engagements, another for day wear, and a morning dress. You said you wanted to be a lady. Being a lady means having a gown for every occasion.” A request that so surprised him he was still trying to comprehend the scope of his actions. That Callie had no idea what being a lady entailed was obvious from the way she was reacting to a wardrobe to fit the dream. But that she wanted this made him realize how lovely she was and how much a lady she already looked in the ivory silk.

  “A lady yes.” Callie slapped her thigh. “A fashion doll, no. I just wanted one dress and a hat with lots of feathers.” Callie frowned at him. “I can’t pay for more than one dress.” She glanced at the tall dresser where a small leather pouch sat.

  Eloise stopped and glanced up from her hemming and her eyes met Luc’s.

  “Callie, just consider the extras to be my treat. Unless you have a way to earn money here in the city.” Callie was like a prickly cactus. Luc felt worn out trying to follow her shifts in thought and logic. Yet he couldn’t help admiring the way the ivory silk clung to her slender body. He’d had no idea under all those disguising clothes how womanly she looked.

  “If you give me a generous tip like you’ve given everyone else in this hotel, I’d have money. You cough and seven people are holding out a hankie.”

  Luc glared at her. The woman, Eloise, tried to hide the smile on her face, but she kept giggling. She was being extremely well-paid for the wardrobe to be completed in three days.

  “Do not force me to make this an order.”

  “You mean I’m still a soldier?” She stood in a shift and held up a fistful of fabric. “A soldier don’t need five dresses.”

  “Scottish soldiers fight in kilts.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  He shook his head. He was on the losing end of this argument. He ran his hands through his hair. He doubted he’d ever win anything with Callie. I give in to her and she’s not happy. I don’t give in to her and she’s not happy. How the hell was he supposed to make her happy, and dammit, why did he care? “Miss Eloise, could I have a few minutes alone with you?”

  “Let me finish this hem and I’ll be out.”

  Luc stalked to the bedroom door and slammed out. In the parlor, he poured himself a generous serving of brandy and swirled it in the bowled glass. He needed some more.

  Eloise opened Callie’s bedroom door and stepped into the parlor, a smile on her face. “I don’t envy you. She’s a feisty one, Captain.”

  “Too feisty.” He couldn’t decide to throttle her or kiss her. “I assume Cornelius spoke to you about the need for discretion and that you’ll be well compensated.” He reached for his wallet.

  “Captain, please.” She held up her hands. “You’ve given me quite enough. I understand your need for privacy. I used to work as a dressmaker for Madame Nadine. I realize you aren’t from around here, but Madame Nadine was notorious.”

  Luc knew exactly who Eloise was talking about. Madame Nadine had run the finest brothel in the state for nearly fifty years. Not that Luc had ever had occasion to visit it, but he’d heard about it from his friends when he was young. “Do you have enough information about her size to finish the dresses without her?” He gestured at the closed bedroom door.

  Eloise nodded. “Don’t worry. I know what I’m doing, but can I give you a little piece of advice from a woman who’s seen her fair share.”

  “Yes, please.” Anything to help him with Callie. He’d thought she’d be tickled to have the new dresses and be a lady for awhile. But Callie wasn’t like any other woman he’d ever known.

  Eloise moved close to him and gently patted his arm. “She thinks that by accepting the clothes that she’ll be your fancy woman and she doesn’t want that.”

  Luc didn’t know what to think. He just wanted to help her realize her dream. When had he become the villain. “Thank you. You’ve given me something to think about.”

  “That woman is a beauty. But be careful, Captain. She’s not the kind of woman you can trifle with. She doesn’t understand the rules of the game. She’s the kind of woman who holds out for a wedding ring, and I don’t think you’re in a position to offer her one.”

  Luc knew how innocent Callie was and he had no intention of hurting her in any way. “I’ll remember what you said.”

  Eloise dimpled at him. “I know you will. And when you tire of your innocent little back-country girl, come see me. I understand the rules.” She turned back into Callie’s bedroom. The door opened and he caught a brief glimpse of Callie standing in a borrowed shift, her breasts unbound, her silken hair a tangle of curls about her face. She looked unhappy. Maybe he should just get away for a couple of hours. Eloise seemed competent enough to handle Callie. Even though Callie insisted she didn’t need new dresses, Luc remembered the look of awe on her face when she’d helped Esme unpack her trunk. He’d work something out with her. In a couple years, she’d be out of the army and probably a
landowner. She’d need dresses then, to be a lady when she wasn’t being a farmer.

  He knocked on the door and when Eloise answered he told her he was going for a walk. She smiled and closed the door and Luc felt as though he’d been removed from some important decision and he didn’t know what it was.

  The city was much as he remembered it as a boy. The bustle of people on the banquette, carriages in the street, the heat and the sultriness of the air. His feet took him first to his father’s house and he stood on the street and looked at the huge structure he’d remembered from childhood.

  The house had a new look, fresh paint, new slate shingles on the roof and fresh flowers dotting the sidewalk. Esme hadn’t been able to completely erase the years of neglect, but she’d done a good job. With a little more care, the house would look as good as new. A man walked up, a bag on his shoulder. He paused at the front of the house and then slung the bag onto the ground. He opened it and pulled out gardening tools and started attacking a thick bush that was overgrown.

  Luc approached the gardener. The man looked at Luc, his dark face crinkling with sudden smile. “Mornin’, sir.”

  “Morning.” Luc saw that the fence still needed repair. One small area had come loose from the frame.

  The gardener stared at Luc, suddenly frowning. “Pardon me for being so nosy, sir, but are you any kin to Miss Esme Delacroix?”

  “I’m her brother. We don’t look a lot alike, but we are twins.”

  “I’ve known twins who were spitting images of each other, and twins who weren’t. You look like her around the eyes and the mouth.”

  “I’ve been told that.” Luc glanced up at the house. As a child, he’d lived on Rampart Street with his mother while his father lived here. Luc had been inside this house several times and remembered it as gracious place filled with old furniture and paintings on the wall. He remembered one painting of a fierce looking man who turned out to be his great grandfather. “I see you’re getting things in shape.” “Yes, sir.” The gardener looked up from his weed-pulling. “Gonna be a wedding here in two weeks. Oldest girl is marrying Old Jonas Ramsaye, meanest man in New Orleans. Already buried himself three wives. Bred those poor things until death was their only escape. Not a one could give him a boy. And here he is taking on another one who’s a good twenty years younger than his oldest girl. Old lecher.” The gardener laughed and continued his work.

  Esme had said the wedding was off and that Simone was going to Paris. She’d made all the arrangements. Josette was supposed to go to England and eventually Lauren would be joining Esme in San Francisco next spring. What had changed?

  Luc thanked the old gardener and left. Luc walked briskly down the street, crossing over to Bourbon. He didn’t have time to waste on Natalie’s betrayal. She had agreed to Esme’s conditions and if Luc hadn’t arrived, Natalie would have married her eldest daughter off before anyone could stop her a second time. Esme had left too soon. She should have stayed behind to make certain that Natalie complied and all two oldest girls were sent off to their respective destinations.

  Esme snapped her fingers and expected things to be done. She never believed anyone had the fortitude to deny her wishes. Unlike Esme, Luc didn’t rush in. He planned things. He needed more detail and he certainly needed to find out more about Jonas Ramsaye and why the

  wedding was back on after Esme had stopped it. Cornelius. Luc needed to talk to Cornelius. He would know what was going on and if he didn’t he would know how to find out.

  Luc returned to the hotel. He asked the desk clerk to send Cornelius up to his room. He sprinted up the stairs and flung open the door to his suite and stopped. Callie and Eloise sat at the dining table, food spread out between them. Callie was dressed in a wrapper of fabric so fine it clung to her slender body revealing all her curves. Across from Callie was Eloise with a fork in the air. “This is a salad fork.”

  Both women turned startled eyes at Luc. Callie looked guilty. She jumped to her feet. “Captain, sir. We weren’t expecting you back so soon.”

  Through the open door of Callie’s bedroom, Luc could see a woman hunched over an sewing machine with yards of fabric running through it as her feet moved up and down over the treadles. Another woman stood behind her holding up a bodice.

  “Obviously.” Luc smiled. Eloise was schooling Callie on the fine points of dining. He picked up a tiny shrimp, popped it into his mouth and ate it shell and all.

  “You’re not supposed to use your fingers,” Callie said.

  Luc chuckled. “Once you know how to eat food properly, you can use your fingers. That’s a rule, you know.”

  “I’m never going to have those little pink things again.”

  “Shrimp,” Eloise stated.

  “They are good.” Callie studied the array of food before her. “Do people in cities eat like this all the time.”

  Eloise opened her mouth and Luc held up a hand. “Let her have her illusions.”

  The door to suite opened and Cornelius stepped in. “Captain, sir, you want to see me.”

  Luc sat down at the table and helped himself to a piece of bread. “Eloise, could you and Callie go into the bedroom, please, Cornelius and I have something to talk about it.”

  “But what all this food?”

  Luc handed her a plate. “Fill it up and take it all with you.”

  Callie and Eloise filled their plate. While Cornelius waited, Eloise made several trips into the bedroom with the utensils she needed to continue her instructions.

  When Luc was alone, he filled up a plate for himself. “Cornelius, if I wanted to find out something about a man in the city, who would I talk to?”

  “You’re talking to him, sir. And if I don’t know, I can find out who would.” “So you know Jonas Ramsaye?”

  “Yes, sir. That man still has the first penny he ever stole. I hear he’s getting himself married in a couple weeks to a young thing from an old family.” Cornelius shrugged. “It’s a shame when a man can’t be happy with what he has. Six daughters and a pack of grandchildren and my cousin, Milo, who works in his house, says he’s still trying to get himself a son so his name will live on. Like the world should be a special place for someone with the name Ramsaye.”

  “Can I talk to Milo?”

  “I will arrange something.”

  Luc stroked his chin. “The sooner the better.”

  Cornelius nodded. “I can have him here tonight right after dinner. According to Milo, Mr. Jonas likes to have his nightly thing at the whorehouse down the street and Milo usually has himself a couple hours free.”

  “Excellent.” Luc mentally rubbed his hands. “And thank you.”

  Cornelius left and the door to the bedroom opened and Callie walked out wearing an ivory dress. She held matching shoes in her hand.

  She held the shoes out toward Luc, a look of disgust in her eyes. She lifted the hem of her dress and Luc saw she was wearing her boots. “I had to take the shoes off. They hurt my feet.”

  Luc burst out laughing. She stared at him and then stamped her feet. When he didn’t stop, she threw the shoes at him.

  “Don’t you laugh at me.” She stormed about the room.

  “In ten years, Callie, you are going to be a force to be reckoned with in the state of Texas.”

  “I changed my mind, I don’t think being a lady is worth the pain.”

  “Nothing worth having should be so easily obtained because then you don’t value it.”

  She stopped. “Does Esme have to work so hard at being a lady?”

  Luc nodded. “Esme knows what being a lady is like, but she also knows when to smoke and drink like a man. That is her most devastating talent.”

  “Why are you doing this?” “Are you making me all these extra clothes because you like me, or because you want to bed me?”

  Luc’s throat went dry. He realized he didn’t know the answer to her question. Or maybe he did know, but was afraid of the answer. “Because you might need them.”

  Her
eyes narrowed. “I don’t need a party dress. I’m a black woman. No one is going to invite me into their fancy homes.”

  The gown was devastating on her. She looked fashionable and sophisticated. “There is a world beyond Mexico. There are towns with no one but black people all over the west. In California, Oklahoma Territory, Kansas, even as far away as Canada. Towns where people go to school, go to teas and have city council meetings. You want to fit in with those people. I’m trying to help you.”

  “Excuse me.” She stood tall and stared at him. “Why would a big city man like you bother with a desert rat like me?”

  She had too many questions in her today. He had no answers. “Callie, trust me. I can help you get everything you want, everything you dreamed of. I want to help. Isn’t that enough for you?”

  “No.”

  Luc drew back, startled. What the hell was he going to do with her? Why couldn’t she just be grateful and be quiet? Why did she have to be so different from every other woman he had ever known?

  “Soldier,” he said, “you’re dismissed.”

  She took a step back. “You can’t treat me like a soldier when I’m in a dress.”

  Luc didn’t think he was ever going to get out of the hole he’d just dug for himself. He stood and put his arms around her. “You’re right. You’re not a soldier.” He kissed her.

  She stood still in the circle of his arms, her lips pressed together tightly. He nibbled on her lower lip and stroked her cheek. She smelled of flowers, soft and feminine. He pressed her tight against him. Her lips moved.

  His heart raced and he body reacted to her. The door to his bedroom stood open and his bed an invitation. How could he get her in his bed? He touched her breasts and she jerked away, slamming him across the face and ran into her bedroom, slapping the door behind her.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Callie sat across the table from Luc, covered food dishes between them containing their dinner. The windows of the suite were open to the courtyard and a cool breeze ruffled the hems of the curtains as the sun slid down toward the horizon. A headache had woven its way through her head and she tried to take deep breaths against the hard edges of her corset.