by Azod, Shara
not need the words. It was written all over the anguish she saw in his face. Without a word
she reached up to stroke his cheek. He would never admit it, but he loved it when she
touched him like that. The man was such a big baby at times.
“I cannot stay at a hotel, Diego. There are far more rules here than in Florida.”
“I bought us a house, just down the street.”
Cherie pulled away from her lover’s arms dumbfounded. He really had no clue how
society worked here, or anywhere else for that matter. Being a royal duque she doubted he
ever had to bow to convention before. The dominant French culture in the Louisiana
territory was somewhat more relaxed than the Spanish, but there were far more European
women here than in all of the other territories currently under Spanish rule. The plaçage
system had certain unwritten rules that all but the most powerful was expected to live by.
While the single men chased free women of color, or freed slaves that were their lovers,
married men were far more circumspect as a rule. Many children of liaisons between
French and Spanish men were supported by well-to-do fathers. A majority of sons born
from these relationships were sent to Europe to be education or set up in businesses and plantations of their own, as were Cherie’s brothers and uncles. Some inherited. Such lax
attitudes concerning race mixing incensed European women who were constantly pushing
for more restrictions on the gens de couleur libres.
As a result the government had passed code noir, or black codes that instituted silly
laws such as the “tignon laws”, that decreed femmes libres de couleur must cover their hair,
which the women promptly turned into a badge of honor. They wore silk and satin
headdresses, elaborately tied and adorned. Codes outlawing cohabitation and marriage were
ignored, but only in certain areas. There were even men like her father and grandfather
who lived openly with their mistresses, or placées, however that was not at all common.
However, Gaspar, Claude and Luc were well established in society. They held the debts of
quite a few planters and businessmen. The owned the local bank. They could get away with
far more than a newcomer, no matter his rank. Respect for Old World titles only went so
far oceans away from Europe.
Diego did not understand that by living openly with her would blacklist him from
every home with a wife or daughter of European decent. While most men could care less,
there would be a social price to pay. The women here were not so desperate for feminine
company that they would be seen within 100 yards of her.
“Diego, I cannot live with you here,” Cherie said softly. “This is not like San
Agustín. Things are not so free here.” “Your parents and grandparents seem to have no problems. Am I not as powerfully
as they are, chica?”
“But of course. I have to point out the women here will not look kindly on you
living openly with your placée. Such rumors have a way of floating across waters. I would
not want to some vengeful woman to make things difficult for you.”
Diego tightened his grip around the waist of a very naked Cherie. The very thought
of spending one night away from her was more than he could endure. Polite society could
go hang, as if he gave a tinker’s damn for such things.
“Cher, you will live in my house. You will sleep in my bed. I don’t care if the
governor himself is offended. Besides,” smirking, he bended down to place a soft kiss on
her lips, “I outrank him.”
*******
It took longer than Diego expected to make it out of Gaspar Durand’s home. When
he and Cherie had emerged from the bedroom, they were quickly ushered into the older
man’s study were they was interrogated for almost an hour. Diego had stood unflinching in
battle, braved wild and untamed territories, stared down his own king on occasion, but the
first time he had known pure fear was facing Cherie’s male relatives. Five brothers were
surely too much for any one woman to have, but there were also two fathers! He could not
begin to understand that one, but it wasn’t like he had the opportunity to think about it. If it wasn’t for the collective efforts of Cherie, her mother Amélie, and her grandmother
Solange, he would surely be dead by now. To make matters worse, the ever present Étienne
had arrived with his father, both still insisting little pup would marry his Cherie and make
an “honest” woman of her. No one seemed to be amused by his quip that she was perfectly
“honest” with him. Between the puppy-dog looks towards his woman and the inscrutable
glances in his own direction, Diego’s patience had been stretched to its limits.
Then there was the “Papa” Luc. The man he had thought was Cherie’s father,
Claude, had just come in with the tall quiet blonde man just as they were being ushered
into the library. He said nothing, just stood to the right of Amélie while Claude stood on
her left. He was not openly hostile as were the other men in the room. Diego found his
eyes drawn to the silent man more and more. Funny, two of Cher’s brothers looked just
like…
He managed to swallow his gasp before it escaped from his lips. Turning away he
caught the smirk Étienne threw at him. On the ship the younger man had told him to ask
Cherie about her Papa Luc, which of course he had not. He had stormed into their cabin
and proceeded to make love to her until he couldn’t think. He didn’t want to think of the
reason he had been so aroused. He refused to question what it was about arguing with the
infernal boy that made him so amorous. Surely it was only a product of the younger man
trying to take his woman. That she had once been promised to the other was of no consequence. Looking out of the corner of his eyes, he could see Étienne still looking in his
direction. He was no longer smirking. The look in his eyes was something Diego did not
want to acknowledge. Perhaps he would ask Cherie about Luc when they got home. Then
again perhaps not.
Cherie had felt the tension steadily building in Diego’s body all afternoon. She had
expected he would relax once they were finally away from her family, but even in the
carriage he was visible on edge.
“What is it?” Cher asked softly laying her head on his chest.
“Nothing. I am just relieved to be out of the lion’s den.”
Diego’s arms immediately embraced her, holding her close. What could he say? He
Couldn’t begin to describe all the things he was feeling. It had been a relief beyond
anything he had ever felt when her male relatives had finally ceded her choice to be with
him for now. There would no doubt be attempts to get her to come to senses and marry
Étienne. He would deal with the challenges as they came. All that mattered was that he had
the woman who completed him in a way he felt no woman ever could. It was a rare thing
him. People feared him, they respected him, but very few had ever loved gave him the
unconditional acceptance and love the way she did. So what was wrong with him?
“There is something I need to tell you.” Diego tensed. For a split second he was afraid to hear what she might say. If her
family had convinced her to come home to them she would not be in the carriage with him
now, he told himself. Still there was a trickle of apprehension
about what she might say.
“Tell me, ,” he whispered into her hair.
“I am with child.”
Diego was so relieved he couldn’t speak for a minute.
“Diego? Are you upset?”
“I know.”
“I thought as much.” Cherie pulled herself upright to look in his face. “Is that why
you wanted me to come with you? Because of the child?”
She knew he wanted a child, she also knew part of the reason for his abrupt
annulment was due to the fact his former wife could not conceive. He rarely talked about
his brief marriage, but Cherie gathered it had been completely untenable for him. Maybe
the desperate need for her stemmed from his desire for a child.
“Cherie, ,” Diego pulled her back into his arms. “I am overjoyed about the
child. But I am crazy about you.” Pulling her completely on his lap he forced her chin up.
“Look at me querida. I love you. I never thought it possible until you came into my life.”
His lips descended on hers as he kissed her softly, murmuring, “I need you. After having a
slice of heaven I find I cannot live without it. You are my heaven, Cher.” The kiss became deeper until their breath mingled tongues intertwined their bodies
pressing together as if seeking to meld. “I swear I will never let you go.”
CHAPTER NINE
Diego was in a rotten mood. The Honorable Governor of Louisiana and Cuba,
Bernardo de Gálvez y Madrid, Vizconde de Gálveztown just happened to be in New
Orleans and had dropped by this morning for a “chat”. Diego had tried to be politely
interested. De Gálvez was a military man, so he wasn’t as intolerable as most in
government. He was decent governor of Louisiana and Cuba, though lately he had been
spending more time in Havana with his father Matías de Gálvez y Gallardo, Viceroy of
New Spain, who was said to be gravely ill. It was whispered de Gálvez would replace his
father. That meant he too had many ties to the throne, which meant he was here to spy.
He had tried to rope him into attending some damnable ball held in the governor’s honor.
Because his wife Matías would be present, there was no way he could take Cherie, which
mean there was no way he would attend. The governor’s wife was criollo, pure Spanish
blood. She could barely tolerate the French (he guessed she had conveniently forgotten the
King of Spain was cousin to the King of France, and thusly descended from French
royalty). She would probably burst something important were he to walk in with his
beautiful quadroon. He was gracious in declining the invitation but the governor had not
been pleased. Diego was obliged to remind Vizconde de Gálveztown that even when his
father died and he became Conde de Gálvez, Diego would still be not only a duque but a Duque Real, thereby outranking the pissant governor and a viceroy. After several failed
attempts to wrangle a dinner invitation, an invitation tea and blunt questions concerning
the extent of the lands and business he had acquired during the five years he had been in
New Spain, the governor finally left.
He had only been back to examining contracts on some land he had recently
purchased in Mexico when his door was once again thrown open without preamble, and
the man he was coming to think of as his father-in-law, Claude Bonnet, strode in with his
ever present shadow, Luc. Neither man looked happy, which did not bode well for him.
Claude had recently been informed of his only daughter’s impending pregnancy and had
been decidedly cool towards Diego though not outwardly hostile. Luc, who never said
much, had begun to study him whenever they were in the same room together in way that
was quite unsettling, and Diego rarely deigned to be unsettled by anyone. The man was
just too damn calm. There was just something about him that made Diego believe he could
see into the darkest recesses of his soul. Places Diego never wanted to acknowledge let alone
explore. Now the man looked disturbed, and Luc was never disturbed.
“I came to inform you if you care for my daughter, you might want to stick closer to
home,” Claude growled at him as soon as he closed the door behind him.
Diego sat back in his chair silently grounded his teeth waiting for Claude to
continue. There had to be more than that cryptic statement. He was well aware the man had his sons and God knows who else watching his every move. Anytime he stepped out of
his home with or without Cherie in tow he was followed. The only reason why he allowed
such a thing was for Cherie. He couldn’t very well run one of her brothers through just
because they irritated him to no end, though Buen Dios how he wanted to. Her fathers
were far blunter, walking right up to him and having the cheek to inquire what he was
doing and with whom, and where was Cherie. He hadn’t had to answer to anyone since he
was in leading strings. None were impressed by his title or position in the royal navy. He
decided he liked Cherie’s male relatives for their cheer audacity.
When Claude went no further, Diego sighed and stood with every intention of
escorting the men out. He seriously doubted Claude spent every waking minutes at home
in attendance to his lovely wife, or lover rather. It was irrelevant that Diego wanted
nothing more than to be at home with his Cherie, the man had no right telling him how
handle his life or his woman even if he was her father.
“Yes, well, thank you very much for advice; I will take it to heart.” He said coming
around the desk to open the door.
“Claude, tell him.”
Diego stopped cold. Luc was not one to talk, so the quiet command was a shock.
The man had a deep, authoritative voice, one that obviously made Claude the Obstinate
obey. “The woman who had Cherie kidnapped had escaped the asylum to which she was
committed after she…after…”
“After she kidnapped and sold you daughter to a brothel? And you mean your wife
don’t you?” Diego supplied helpfully. At least he thought he was being helpful. Claude
glared at him and stalked to one of the chairs in from of his desk. When Luc followed in a
much more measured sedate pace, Diego had no choice but return to his seat behind the
desk.
“The marriage was annulled; as was yours if I remember correctly,” Claude shot
right back. “But still doesn’t seem to get you any closer to making an honest woman out of
my daughter!”
“As you have made an honest woman out of her mother?”
“Who is with Cher now?” Luc interjected before the argument got any more heated.
“I believe she went with you, your, uh…” What the hell do you call the mistress to
the father of your mistress who also happened to be your mistress's mother? It boggled the
mind. “She is with her mother, shopping I believe.”
“’Tienne went with them,” Claude stated absently. “So she should be safe enough
for now. Besides, Amélie wouldn’t let Agathe anywhere near her baby.”
Great, that accursed puppy again. Now Diego had a raging headache. If he were
honest, he would admit he felt better knowing Étienne was with Cherie. But Diego did not feel like being honest. He did not want to admit to himself the raging jealous he should
have felt was not there whenever he walked into the house and Étienne was there. He
would not own up to the fact he kind of liked t
he boy and enjoyed his company. He
refused to acknowledge he sometimes fantasized…
“I don’t remember Amélie saying anything about shopping last night or this
morning.”
Diego’s headache evaporated. Luc sounded downright upset. He was glaring at
Claude who was squirming in his seat.
“Luc, it was important to Cher. She wants to make the perfect home for the
Spaniard here, and Amélie wants to help her.” Claude explained. Funny, he didn’t sound
any weaker than had before. He was not in any way acting effeminate, but something told
Diego that Luc was most definitely the one in charge.
“I told you both until we find the person who tried to attack Amélie, she was to only
go to her mother’s of Cher’s. I was not kidding. We will discuss this later at home.”
Wait, what the hell?!
“Um, pardon me for interrupting,” that got Diego a glare from both men, but he
was far too fascinated to pay any attention. “Someone tried to attack your, uh, Cherie’s
mother? When exactly did your wife, my pardon,” he stopped and rephrased at Claude’s glare, “Agathe, escape the asylum? Could you please start this sordid tale from the
beginning so maybe I could follow?”
Luc turned his attention to the young duque. He had to admit he was not unhappy
Cherie had become attached to such a man. It was easy to see Diego was very much in love.
While Claude agreed Diego had to be informed of Agathe’s disappearance he was very
much against telling him about the unique relationship between himself, Amélie and
Claude. Luc disagreed. Diego would perhaps claim to be scandalized, or at the very least in
shock. But there was something about the young man. Even more there was a chemistry
between Diego, Cherie and Étienne that would soon become too strong for him to ignore.
Luc recognized the signs well, even if Claude had missed it.
“You’re right,” Luc conceded. “We have been remiss in telling you the exact nature
of Agathe’s psychosis and her hatred of our daughter and our woman.”
Our? Diego sat forward in his chair looking from one man to the other. They were a
ménage? Diego thought back to Étienne’s statement when they were on the ship once
again. Ask Cher to tell you about her Papa Luc. Damn, the little shit had known. Did the
