Miss Lavigne's Little White Lie

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Miss Lavigne's Little White Lie Page 11

by Samantha Grace


  “I unfastened my dress,” she whispered, “and allowed him to capture my bare breast on canvas.”

  Daniel hid his shock. Her behavior was scandalous and undeniably arousing. “Why would you do such a thing? Have you no sense of the consequences?”

  She tossed her head. “Because I could, Captain Hillary. Have you never done anything simply for the joy of doing what you shouldn’t?”

  “Not when I was a child.” He held her gaze a long time until she looked away. Red rushed into her cheeks, leaving dark splotches on her neck and chest.

  “He made me feel beautiful,” she murmured. “And I am a woman, not a child.”

  Daniel shook himself from the past and scrubbed his hand over his jaw. Cecily had needed him, desperately. He hadn’t realized his calling at that moment, but later as they had faced her parents, he’d known his purpose: to save Cecily from herself. But there had been no one to save her from him.

  ***

  Lisette’s buoyant mood carried her into the glittering ballroom with her cousin at her side. Golden light from the chandeliers spilled over the guests gathered for the affair, filling the room with good cheer. Surely among the gentlemen present, there would be one willing to assist her. “Let the search begin,” she whispered to Serafine.

  Several soldiers clad in red uniforms with yellow fringe and shining buttons ceased their conversation and looked at Serafine and Lisette as they approached. Their avid attention gave Lisette pause, and a slight shudder passed through her. What if every gentleman she appealed to for assistance requested the same arrangement Daniel had posed in New Orleans?

  She forced down her anxieties. Shyness would not serve her family. Lisette tried to hang on to the confidence she’d experienced when looking at her reflection in the mirror moments earlier. Never had she felt more beautiful than she did in her glorious gown of plum with matching slippers.

  Her coiffure had been styled to perfection with tiny braids looping around her head like a crown and curls spilling down her back. This was the first evening she and Serafine hadn’t needed to play lady’s maid to each other, thanks to Her Excellency’s generosity. The luxury of an assistant was welcomed and much appreciated.

  As she scanned the crowd, her newly acquired scent drifted on the air. She smiled reluctantly. Daniel had presented her with an elegantly wrapped gift at the end of her last dance lesson that morning to congratulate her on her progress. Inside the box lay a delicate bottle of jasmine oil tucked into a crimson velvet pouch. It was silly for her to feel sentimental over his gift, and she should have refused to accept his offering. Yet, his thoughtfulness had touched her and filled her with regret that they would be parting soon. She wanted something by which to remember Daniel.

  Serafine pointed with her fan. “I’ve located Amelia and Monsieur Hillary.”

  Their friend was a vision in a gown of emerald that disguised her expanding belly better than any of them had expected. As Lisette and Serafine wound through the crowd to reach Amelia and her husband, a prickling sensation rippled along the back of her neck. She looked over her shoulder and came to a sudden stop. Her breathing ceased as she turned toward the source of her disquiet.

  Daniel was ambling toward her. His dimple appeared when their gazes met; his blue eyes flared like the spark of touch-paper caught in a tinderbox. How she wanted to touch her finger to the small dip in his cheek.

  His black tailcoat embraced his broad shoulders and skimmed his tapered waist, while his ivory trousers clung to his muscular legs. My, he was a dashing man when dressed properly.

  “Mademoiselle. Madame,” Daniel greeted. “How lovely you look this evening.” He swept a long leg in front of him and bowed low, triggering a mesmerizing shifting of muscles in his thigh. He was as covered as she’d ever seen him, but his attire left nothing to the imagination. Not that she needed to imagine anything.

  Sweet Mary. Lisette snapped her fan open and waved it briskly to create a breeze. “Good evening, Captain. Goodness, it’s stifling in the ballroom, is it not?”

  Serafine raised her brows. “I’m comfortable.”

  Daniel’s grin widened as he offered his arm. “Perhaps madame would like to take refreshment. Please, allow me to act as your escort.”

  Lisette hesitated, not at all certain contact with him would ease her discomfort. It certainly wouldn’t further her goal of locating assistance from another gentleman. Still, she looped her arm with his.

  Serafine looked between Lisette and Amelia, worried creases appearing on her forehead. “I promised to shield Mrs. Hillary from curious stares. Perhaps you would retrieve a glass for me, too?”

  “My pleasure, Mademoiselle Vistoire.”

  Daniel guided Lisette along the outer edges of the gathering toward the refreshment room off the great hall. When they joined the crush milling about the smaller room, he drew her closer to his side. “I can see the table ahead.”

  Many a polite gentleman smiled as they waited in line, easing much of her concern that she would be unable to find someone willing to help her.

  Daniel’s forearm began to twitch with each gesture of friendliness. “Once we return to the ballroom, I wish to sign your dance card before the other gentlemen approach you.”

  “I would be honored to grant your request.” She patted his arm. If not for Daniel, she would be hiding in a corner this evening. Perhaps he would claim a waltz. “I never thanked you for instructing me. I believe I can follow well enough now, but looking at this crowd, I’m no longer worried about a misstep. The gentlemen seem benevolent. I’m sure they will overlook my mistakes.”

  “Indeed,” he mumbled.

  The sea of bodies parted as Daniel delivered her to the refreshment table. He ladled yellow punch into two cut glasses then handed one to her. “It’s pineapple.”

  Lisette sniffed the concoction before tasting it. She closed her eyes, swept up in the ecstasy of the sweet drink. “It’s delicious.”

  “I prefer brandy myself.”

  She smiled and returned the greeting of a passing gentleman who looked kindly upon her.

  Capturing her free arm, Daniel hurried her toward the ballroom. “No time to dally. Mademoiselle Vistoire is likely parched by now.”

  “Slow down.” Lisette planted her feet, but her protest was for naught. He possessed the strength of five men. Holding her glass away from her so as not to soil her gown, she trotted beside him.

  Daniel released her when they reached Serafine, Amelia, and Monsieur Hillary. The three huddled together wearing distressed looks while two matronly women gushed over the joys of childbirth.

  “Fascinating accounting. Your descriptions are so vivid.” Monsieur Hillary hooked a finger between his neck and cravat and yanked. “If you will excuse us, ladies, I promised to escort my wife to the refreshment room.”

  Amelia sent a grateful look toward her husband. Her complexion was paler than usual. “Yes, thank you, sir.”

  Monsieur Hillary backed up a step and bumped into Daniel. The glass of pineapple punch in Daniel’s hand sloshed down Monsieur Hillary’s pants leg.

  “Dear heavens, Mr. Hillary,” one of the ladies cried.

  The elderly women whipped out handkerchiefs—one from her reticule and the other from between her bosom—and blotted Jake Hillary’s breeches in a flurry of activity and chorus of “oh my.”

  “Please.” He attempted to deflect their hands while the women struck with the precision of copperhead snakes. “Do not trouble yourselves on my account.”

  A peacock feather jutting from the taller woman’s hat jabbed poor Monsieur Hillary in the eye. He knocked it aside, bending the feather to hang at an awkward angle.

  “I really don’t require any assistance.”

  “There, there, sir. We will set you to rights in no time.”

  The ladies were enthusiastic in their ministrations, wiping places clearly not doused with punch. With exasperated eyes, Monsieur Hillary sought out his brother, who hadn’t stopped laughing. “Daniel,
a little assistance, please?”

  Daniel handed Lisette the empty glass and stepped forward to pull Monsieur Hillary from the melee. “Thank you, ladies. How kind you are. My brother is set to rights now.”

  “Oh, yes,” the plumper one agreed. Clutching her handkerchief to her chest, she appeared the picture of a child disappointed to have her fun interrupted. “Happy to have been of service, sir.”

  “Yes, thank you,” Monsieur Hillary grumbled.

  The ladies smiled once more then moved on to speak with another guest.

  “Good Lord, this isn’t London,” Monsieur Hillary said.

  Amelia came to his side. “Are you all right?”

  “I feel I must bathe again.”

  She patted his hand. “My poor darling, go upstairs and do what you must. Mademoiselle Vistoire and I will find our way to the refreshment room.”

  Monsieur Hillary left the ballroom to change while Amelia and Serafine sought out refreshment.

  “Your brother was practically mauled,” Lisette whispered. “How humiliating.”

  “He has survived worse.” Daniel held out his hand. “Your dance card, madame.”

  “Certainly, monsieur.” Lisette’s smile soon began to fade as Daniel scribbled his name to a second dance. And then a third and a fourth. “What are you doing?”

  “I made it clear at Madame Morel’s that I have no desire for you to dance with other gentlemen.”

  “Return my card.” She tried to snatch it from him, but he turned his back. “Give it to me at once, monsieur.”

  Daniel finally passed the card back. He had claimed every dance.

  “What about my wishes? Are your desires more important?”

  His stern hand on the small of her back made her jump. He propelled her forward and outside through the glass doors lining the veranda, into the darkness, before she realized his intentions.

  “Non.”

  “Just one moment alone, darling. That’s all I ask.”

  The constant breeze off the sea lifted the curls cascading down her back, and the scent of jasmine surrounded her, reminding her of his earlier generosity. She stopped resisting and followed him to a hidden corner of the sprawling terrace.

  “Well, are your wishes more important?” Lisette’s voice lacked the conviction it had possessed a moment ago.

  Daniel faced her. The moonlight darkened his eyes to shining pools of black. “Tell me you want to dance with other gentlemen, Lis.” Her body quivered as his arms captured her around the waist. “If that is your true desire, I won’t interfere. But I must hear you say it.”

  No part of her desired anyone other than Daniel, but her longings wouldn’t provide the safety her family required.

  She backed out of his embrace. “I must go.”

  “Must you?”

  Lisette bit down on her lip. He was dangerous to her welfare and that of her family. She should go at once, but her feet refused to obey.

  Daniel brushed a loose strand of hair behind her ear, his fingers lingering on her skin. She shivered.

  “Answer me, luv. Do you wish to dance with other men?”

  Non. “Oui. But I shall save a place on my card for you. A waltz? Minuet? What is it you want?”

  “You,” he whispered, wrapping his fingers around the nape of her neck. “You, ma chère.” His breath caressed her cheek, so warm and exciting.

  Their lips drifted closer together.

  “I should resist you.”

  He chuckled under his breath. “Please don’t.”

  “Lisette!” Serafine called out from the dark, startling them apart. “Are you out here?”

  Lisette suppressed a sigh. Would her cousin ever trust her to do what was best for them all?

  Fifteen

  Daniel gritted his teeth. Lisette’s bothersome cousin was spoiling his pleasure yet again. He would need to do something with the wench when they set sail. Too bad tossing her overboard was out of the question.

  He guided Lisette away from her approaching relative, not wishing to place her in the position of needing to defend herself against her cousin’s judgments. “Use the south doors. I’ll intercept her.”

  Lisette hurried toward the light spilling from another set of glass doors then disappeared inside the governor’s mansion. Daniel pulled the cheroot his father-in-law had given him from his jacket, lit it using the flame of the closest torch, and waited for Mademoiselle Vistoire to discover him.

  “Lisette,” she hissed. “Where are you, you incorrigible girl?”

  Daniel almost felt sorry for Mademoiselle Vistoire. The role of Lisette’s keeper couldn’t be easy, but it seemed a self-appointed position and unnecessary given Lisette’s widowhood.

  The lady’s footsteps pattered in his direction. As she emerged from the shadows, the torchlight made her black tresses gleam.

  “Out and about with no chaperone, mademoiselle? A risky venture for an innocent. Who knows what unsavory characters you might run across on a dark night?”

  Her lip lifted with derision. “Such as yourself, Captain Hillary?”

  “Perhaps.” A plume of smoke rose from the tip of the cheroot, swirling into the air. “What brings you outside, my dear?”

  “Where is my cousin?”

  “I imagine she’s in the ballroom, where you belong.”

  Mademoiselle Vistoire’s hands landed on her hips. “She is not. I searched the entire hall.”

  Daniel raised a brow. “I question the accuracy of your claim, but it matters little to me. As you can see, Madame Lavigne is not in my company. Do you suspect someone else has captured her fancy?”

  She marched across the remaining space and looked up with hardened eyes. “Take me.”

  Daniel fumbled his cheroot but recovered it before it slipped from his fingers. He hoped he misunderstood her. “Take you? Take you where?”

  She scowled. “To your bed, imbecile.”

  “Egads!” He tossed the cheroot to the ground and crushed the burning tip with his boot. “You are out of line, mademoiselle.”

  “Am I?”

  She attempted to throw her arms around his neck, but he captured her wrists. She jerked against his hold, but he refused to release her for fear she’d further disgrace herself.

  “We both know you practice no discernment when bedding a woman,” she spat. “I’m familiar with men like you. You have your way with the fools then fling them aside for the next pleasure.”

  His jaw dropped and his hold loosened. Her gall was beyond the pale.

  Mademoiselle Vistoire extracted her arms from his grip and rubbed her wrists. “Let’s be reasonable, Captain. Lisette’s prospects for securing a proper match once we reach England are better than my own. Rafe and I need her to marry well, perhaps to a titled gentleman. She cannot catch a husband if you ruin her.”

  “Ruin her?” The lady was a complete noddy. “Your cousin is a widow. The only thing she’s likely to catch in London is a rake at her back door.”

  His fingers curled into a fist. The idea of the blackguards misusing Lisette made him want to pound them.

  Mademoiselle Vistoire crossed her arms. “I haven’t the slightest idea as to your meaning.”

  He wouldn’t like to explain his meaning either. Daniel rolled his shoulders to lessen the tension between his shoulder blades. He must recall he was in the presence of a lady, even though she behaved with less than ladylike manners.

  “There is no denying Madame Lavigne is a beauty without compare. I’m certain she will turn a few heads. But she is a widow with no issue. Her fertility will come into question, and these illustrious noblemen you seek require an heir.”

  “Lisette is plenty young enough to produce offspring,” she argued.

  “Irrelevant point, my dear. The ton makes judgments quickly. So unless your cousin has significant financial assets to bring to the union, she has no chance of marrying, and even then her prospects are limited to men in dire need of funds.”

  Serafine scoffed. “Yo
u have an interesting perspective, sir, but you are mistaken. My cousin is not a widow.”

  “Of course she is. Lisette said as much in our first meeting.”

  “She allowed you to believe her to be a widow, because that seemed the best course at the time.”

  Uneasiness swirled in his stomach. Mademoiselle Vistoire was annoying and interfering, but she didn’t strike him as a liar. “But she wore widow’s weeds.”

  Her severe brows arched over her mocking gaze. “Her mourning clothes were made to grieve her father.”

  If Lisette wasn’t a widow, he had already overstepped his bounds. Did her cousin expect him to offer for Lisette? “What are you implying, mademoiselle?”

  The willowy young woman stepped forward, all aggression dissipating. She grasped Daniel’s hands. “She is an innocent, Captain, but I am not. Please, if you must take one of us to your bed, choose me.”

  The weary slant of her eyes and downturn of her mouth conveyed no desire for him, simply resignation. Mademoiselle Vistoire considered herself a necessary casualty in the quest to save her family and preserve their future.

  “Mademoiselle, I’m at a loss as to how to respond. Thank you for the kind offer, but I must decline.”

  “I see.” Tears pooled in her eyes. She released her death grip on his hands and turned away, furiously swiping away the evidence of her distress. “Of course you must decline. Forgive me. I wasn’t thinking.”

  Daniel felt like a cur. He hadn’t meant to injure her sensibilities, but how was he to explain his desire was only for Lisette? “You needn’t apologize,” he called to Mademoiselle Vistoire as she walked away.

  She lifted her skirts and dashed for the terrace stairs.

  “Mademoiselle, wait.”

  She kept running and disappeared into the moonlit gardens.

  Damnation. The last thing he wanted was to chase the wench, but she left him little choice. Lisette would be beside herself if harm came to her cousin. He glanced back at the house, hoping to catch a glimpse of Lisette so he might enlist her assistance, but instead found Mr. Ramsey had stumbled out the door.

 

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