Miss Lavigne's Little White Lie

by Samantha Grace

  Her cousin pursed her lips. “We are leaving before you change your mind. It’s clear you have fallen in love with Captain Hillary.”

  Lisette fumbled with the sack. “I have not.”

  Serafine snatched the nightrail Amelia had given her from Lisette’s fingers. “Yes, you have.”

  “You’re mad.” She turned her back to her cousin. “I’m grateful to Captain Hillary for helping us escape and for taking an interest in Rafe, but I have no love for the scoundrel.”

  “Lisette.” Serafine spoke at her ear, causing her to jump.

  “Sweet Mary! Keep to your side of the room.”

  Serafine grabbed her shoulders and pushed her down to sit on the cot. “Banish these childish longings. The captain will never want anything more from you than a moment between the sheets.”

  Lisette flinched. The harsh words ripped through her heart.

  Merde. It was true. She had been having second thoughts. How could she deny her feelings when every moment she thought of leaving Daniel made her throat thick with unshed tears?

  “You deserve a better life, Lisette.”

  She nodded and fiercely swiped at the traitorous tears welling in her eyes. Daniel behaved as if nothing of significance had passed between them during his quarantine, and nothing had except in her fanciful imagination. While she had grown fond of him during his convalescence, he felt nothing for her in return. He had made it clear he had no need for her when he had tossed her from his quarters, and he hadn’t sought her out since that moment.

  She met Serafine’s gaze, defiance radiating from her. “I don’t love him.”

  “Très bon, because he is not meant for you.”

  Lisette shot to her feet and brushed past her cousin. “How would you know who is meant for me?”

  “There is a gentleman in your future, an Englishman, and an obscenely rich one at that. You will marry him, and he will provide the security we seek.”

  “I suppose your tea leaves told you as much.”

  “It’s simply my hope.” She paused. “Lisette, I should have told you before we left, but I’m afraid something bad has happened to Xavier.”

  She slowly swiveled around to face Serafine. “What are you saying? Why would you believe something has happened to your brother?”

  Her cousin’s expression clouded over. “Xavier promised to return at once, but we’ve received no word from him in months. He wouldn’t abandon Rafe. You know he cares for the boy.”

  Lisette gripped the sheer fabric of her extra chemise, her irritation melding into anxiety, but now wasn’t the time to dwell on what they might find in England. They had more pressing matters to attend to in Port Albis. “We shall deal with the situation if it comes to pass. Your nerves are getting the better of you.”

  She resumed packing.

  “Perhaps,” Serafine said, “but if my fears are realized, our survival depends on you marrying well.”

  “You are as likely to capture a gentleman’s attention as I am.”

  Serafine was silent for so long, Lisette began to think she had won an argument for once. The soft clearing of her cousin’s throat stripped her of that notion. “You’re mistaken. No gentleman will have me.”

  Lisette turned to deliver a retort but held her tongue. Tears streaked down the beautiful planes of Serafine’s face. Lisette dropped the garment she held and gathered her cousin in a hug. “Ma chère, why do you speak such foolishness? What gentleman wouldn’t want you?”

  Serafine shook her head and held on tighter, smothering her sob against Lisette’s shoulder. Her cousin had always been proud. For her to have said this much about her insecurities was miraculous but troubling. Serafine and Lisette may not be pale beauties with pure European blood coursing through their veins, but they were exactly what many superior, gently bred men needed.

  They carried decent dowries, and they would bear sons imbued with the strength of their ancestors who had survived the wilderness of Louisiana when weaker men and women died before ever reaching their destination. Any man would be a fool to overlook either of them.

  “If we don’t locate your brother in London, we will both make smart matches if we must. Never doubt it.” Lisette eased from Serafine’s hold.

  Her cousin offered a tentative smile and looked away.

  “Serafine, what is it?”

  She shook her head. “It’s unimportant. Perhaps when we have more time…”

  Serafine’s slumped shoulders and defeated sigh made Lisette’s heart ache. “You will confide in me later? You must realize you may tell me anything.”

  Serafine sniffled. “I know.”

  Lisette chose not to further her inquiry. When her cousin was ready, she would share her burden. At least, she had always trusted Lisette in the past.

  There. That was one more thing Reynaud couldn’t take from her, the trust her kin placed in her. Why, the blasted cur had hardly taken a thing, now that she thought about it.

  ***

  Lisette kept Rafe close as the Cecily neared Port Albis. The placid waters sparkled like a star-filled sky as sunlight bounced along the surface of the bay.

  Serafine stood on Lisette’s other side, their arms linked. “It’s beautiful.”

  “Oui.”

  Dotting the bay, the unadorned masts of slumbering ships jutted into the air while their flags of allegiance flapped in the breeze. Most flew the British colors, but as Daniel had explained to Rafe that morning over breakfast, Linmead Island was an English colony.

  In the distance, a massive curved wall of stone hovered on a hill overlooking the waters, the fortress’s black cannons peering over the barrier. Stark white Palladian houses sprawled across the knoll. Their porticos and domes reminded her of the artists’ renditions of ancient Greece displayed in the gallery at Passebon House.

  As the Cecily neared shore, men scurried along the docks, preparing for their arrival. Port Albis proved a larger metropolis than she had thought. In her imagination, the Caribbean islands had been barely one step above uncivilized. How uninformed she had been.

  Anxious flutters began in her stomach. Not only must she locate shelter, she needed to book passage on another ship. The prospect felt daunting now. She had hoped Daniel might offer his assistance in finding an inn, but he hadn’t spoken directly to her since she’d stormed from his cabins.

  He stood near the helm with Monsieur Patch. Daniel’s wide stance drew her attention to his sturdy thighs, and his linen shirt strained across his muscled chest, highlighting his strength. His authoritative voice carried on the air, commanding all those around him. To see him now, one would never guess how helpless he had been a few days earlier.

  Bon. Daniel no longer needed her, just as he had said.

  He glanced in her direction but turned back to Monsieur Patch when he discovered her watching him. Would he truly allow her to walk away without a word after their time together?

  She rubbed the back of her wrist across her nose to ease the annoying tickle that signaled impending tears. Squaring her shoulders, she reminded herself Daniel held no significance to her. Her family’s continued survival was the only thing of importance.

  Rafe pointed toward an approaching entourage on shore. An open-topped carriage with four white horses and a liveried driver at the reins rolled down the hill toward the docks. Four men wearing British-red uniforms rode on horseback and escorted the conveyance.

  “It’s the governor-general,” Rafe announced.

  “How could you know such a thing?” Serafine asked.

  “Captain Hillary said he would greet us.”

  Lisette shaded her eyes as she located Daniel again. He was frowning in the official’s direction and a frisson of apprehension coiled in her chest.

  “Mon dieu,” she murmured to Serafine. “I hope there’s to be no trouble.”

  ***

  The appearance of his father-in-law at the docks didn’t surprise Daniel, but he had hoped to delay their reunion. Cecily’s parents treated
him with kindness he didn’t deserve.

  He had killed their daughter.

  If not by his own hand, then by his insistence that she abandon her home. Cecily had never wanted to leave Port Albis, but his need to prove his wife wrong overrode her desires. Daniel was not a poor tradesman. He was the son of a gentleman and an heir to his maternal grandfather’s mercantile shipping company, one of the largest in the world, second only to the East India Company.

  He would have showered Cecily with every luxury her mind could imagine once they reached home. She would have had a large household to manage, any number of staff she required, and her obsession for pretty things indulged to no end.

  A sharp pang of shame pierced underneath his ribs. The foolishness of his youthful pride had cost Cecily her life, and he must live with this knowledge forever. Perhaps he was no wiser now, allowing Lisette and her family onboard, but they had held up well. He would see them safely to England as if his own life depended on it.

  Lisette stood near the railing twisting her hands together as if wrestling with whether to approach him. Her distress added to his guilt. He should have prepared her for the ship’s arrival in Port Albis. She likely worried about where her family would stay, but Daniel would see her and her kin settled.

  He swaggered toward the gangplank where she stood. Upon meeting her gaze, a trill of anticipation raced down his limbs, and he quickened his step. Hellfire. He had missed her over the last couple of days, but only now did he realize to what extent. He should have sent for her before their arrival instead of keeping his distance, but he hadn’t trusted himself to safeguard her from his troubles when she had enough of her own.

  “Lis,” he greeted softly.

  She extended her hand as if she were a man sealing an agreement with another. “Captain Hillary, thank you for your fine service. My family is grateful to you.”

  Daniel captured her hand and tucked it into the crook of his arm. “Stay close, luv. I don’t want to lose you in the crush.”

  “Captain Hillary.” She tried to tug free of his hold, but he refused to relinquish her as he led her toward the gangplank.

  “I’m afraid I must subject you to an introduction to my wife’s parents.”

  She stumbled, but he steadied her descent. “Daniel. Why didn’t you say something earlier?”

  The pomp and circumstance surrounding the governor and first lady’s arrival to greet him was embarrassing. Cecily’s father climbed from the carriage before assisting his wife then escorting her to wait at the bottom of the gangplank. Someone must have identified the Cecily early, because the governor and first lady had had time to dress in their best.

  “I fear they will insist we stay as their guests,” he said to Lisette. “They don’t look kindly upon a refusal to partake of their hospitality.”

  “No, not us. We’ll locate an inn.”

  Daniel smiled when Cecily’s mother waved. “You don’t want to miss the ball they are sure to throw. Besides, I promised to protect you, and protect you I will.”

  If he were honest with himself, he would allow that he wanted Lisette close to shield him from the overwhelming guilt that plagued him each time he stepped foot in the governor’s home. He needed her more than he liked to admit.

  Thirteen

  Lisette settled against the carriage seat and narrowed her eyes at Daniel. Serafine stared out the window, not even bothering to make eye contact with anyone, while Amelia fidgeted with her reticule.

  It had been two days, a full forty-eight hours, since their arrival at the Governor’s House, and Daniel hadn’t allowed Lisette out of his sight except when she excused herself to her chambers. His unexpected attentiveness made it impossible for her to slip away to find another ship traveling to England.

  And he’d been pleasant, which riled her to no end. She barely recognized him as the cold, dispassionate captain he had been before their arrival to Linmead Island. Nevertheless, she wouldn’t allow herself to forget what he was underneath his fancy waistcoat and brilliant white cravat.

  He was unequivocally marvelous—monstrous!

  Memories of his spectacular bare chest invaded her thoughts, sending hot tingles all over her body. She shifted on the seat and trained her gaze out the window, pretending interest in the passing landscape. Pondering anything lying beneath Daniel’s waistcoat served no purpose except to remind her of the reason she had to end their association.

  Captain Daniel Hillary was her Achilles’ heel.

  His chuckle broke the somber silence. “Such glum faces all around. I’ve never seen ladies so opposed to shopping for a ball. I should have insisted Jake accompany you instead.”

  Amelia wrinkled her nose. “My attendance is hardly appropriate given my condition. I have no inkling as to why the first lady is insisting upon my participation.”

  “This isn’t London,” he said. “Societal rules are more lax. Try to enjoy yourself.”

  Serafine sniffed. “Lisette and I hold no place in society. We shouldn’t be attending high-ranking officials’ balls or wasting money on frivolous dresses we will never need again.”

  A mischievous twinkle lit Daniel’s eyes. “Feel at liberty to discuss the situation with Her Excellency, ladies. I learned years ago to follow the first lady’s directives without question. It requires less energy than debate.”

  “It’s difficult to believe anyone could direct you in anything,” Lisette said.

  “Madame has a point.” Amelia sent a soft smile across the carriage for Serafine. “If I must attend this affair in my state, I’ll require someone to stand in front of me to block the view. Please say you will attend.”

  Serafine offered a begrudging grin. “Only for you. I refuse to enjoy myself upon Captain Hillary’s suggestion.”

  Daniel drummed his fingers on the hat resting on his lap. “Mademoiselle Vistoire, I have the distinct impression you don’t care for me.”

  Serafine was spared from having to answer his accusation when the carriage rolled to a stop in front of a rustic shop with oyster shells set into the foundation. A tidy sign announcing their arrival at Madame Morel’s Boutique swayed in the ocean breeze.

  She paused on the walkway to savor the sweet scent wafting on the air. Port Albis was a different world compared to home, and they hadn’t yet traveled a quarter of the journey. How displaced would she feel once they reached London?

  For a brief moment, she considered abandoning her search for a new captain. Daniel had given his word to deliver them to England and had kept them alive this far. Perhaps it was unwise to entrust their livelihood to an unknown entity.

  Lisette shook the notion from her mind. As she and Serafine had discussed at length, surviving the journey was just the first step. If any of them hoped to stay alive for any time in London, Lisette must find a husband. And in order to secure passage on another ship, she would need to find someone willing to assist with the task of locating a Britain-bound vessel. Although Daniel wouldn’t allow her to venture into the town alone, he couldn’t stop her from seeking assistance from one of the governor’s guests at the ball.

  Bamboo chimes clanked as Lisette and Serafine entered the establishment.

  “Oh,” Lisette said on an outpouring of breath. A rainbow of exquisite bolts of silks lined the back wall from ceiling to floor. A shimmering plum caught her eye, and she crossed the room to glide her fingers over the sheer fabric.

  “Si belle,” she murmured.

  “A divine choice, mademoiselle.”

  Lisette snatched her hand back and glanced at the dressmaker who had slipped up beside her. “Oh, no. I couldn’t…” She had no business donning such bold colors, but she couldn’t tear her eyes away from the elegant cloth. “Perhaps a dress of pale yellow or ivory would make a better choice.”

  “Pale yellow? Nonsense.” The woman wrestled the bolt of fabric from the display and held a corner to Lisette’s cheek. “The plum enhances your dark coloring to perfection. You should listen to Madame Morel. I am the mo
st sought after modiste on Linmead Island.”

  Considering the small geographic area, Lisette wasn’t certain this was any great accomplishment, but she had to admit her choice in cloth was divine.

  Madame Morel guided her toward an oval looking glass and draped a corner of the silk over Lisette’s shoulder. “See for yourself. Madame Morel is never wrong.”

  “Oui. It is nice.”

  Daniel sidled up beside the shop’s proprietor and tipped his head to the side, studying Lisette’s reflection. “I must agree with Madame Morel. It’s perfect.” He smiled at the modiste. “Madame Lavigne requires a gown for the Governor’s Ball. Show me your sketches.”

  The woman twittered like a young girl when he offered his arm and led her away.

  “Captain Hillary,” Lisette called, but he didn’t pay her any mind. By the saints. She would not leave the style of her gown up to a man. She made to follow, but Serafine detained her.

  “You’ll not allow him to dress you like his mistress,” she hissed. “And he cannot purchase either of our gowns. I won’t stand for it.”

  Lisette’s gaze darted toward Amelia, appalled that she might have overheard Serafine’s outrageous assumptions. If she had, she was polite enough to pretend to be engrossed in comparing bolts of lace.

  Lisette pried her arm from her cousin’s grasp. “I’m sure Madame Morel would not steer me in the wrong direction. Now if you will excuse me.”

  “Lisette, please,” she whispered.

  Serafine’s commanding manner was wearing Lisette’s patience thin. In fact, if her fortitude were a cloak, it would boast gaping holes. She swept by Serafine. “’Tis only a ball gown.”

  As she reached the table where Madame Morel and Daniel pored over the pages of a sketchbook, he stood and offered his chair before pointing to the current drawing. “That’s the one. Can you have it ready in time?”

  “I will decide which gown suits me best,” Lisette snipped and hauled the book across the table for a better look.

  She suppressed a sigh of pleasure as she sank onto the chair. Daniel’s choice was divine with a daring neckline and ethereal skirts that would sway with each step so she would appear to be walking on a cloud.