"Then I would reconsider. But I do not believe he will agree to such a thing. Think, m'amie! Would you if you were in his place? He could marry you and gain all the Carlin ships, since the law says all property belongs to the husband."
"Do you think that is why Jason offered to marry me? Because of the Carlin ships?"
"I expect he has thought of that, yes. But do not underestimate yourself, Laurie. You are a beautiful young woman. And he is a man. If he could have both you and the ships, why should he wish for less than the whole?"
"He will have to be satisfied with less. Jason understands that I won't marry him. Actually," she added thoughtfully, "he already owns the ships. I suppose I should just refuse to take them back, for then he would have control."
"You would be giving up a fortune," Jean-Paul reminded her.
Lauren looked up at that. "Yes," she said slowly. "I would be giving up a fortune. But," she added, "if I accept the Carlin inheritance, I would probably have to live in England, which I don't want. And to be fair, Jason deserves to be rewarded for his efforts. According to Kyle, were it not for Jason, the Carlin Line might not even have survived. So, what would your position be if Jason just kept the ships?"
Jean-Paul nodded. "There would be no problem for me. Of course I would have to speak with him first. I will do so when he returns, if you are sure that is what you want."
"I am sure," Lauren replied. "At least one person died because of my father's fortune, and I want no part of it."
Nor could Jason convince her to change her mind, Lauren added to herself. She wouldn't allow him the opportunity. For that reason, she was glad Jean-Paul had volunteered to talk to him. Of course, Jason couldn't force her to take the Carlin inheritance. But still, she didn't trust her ability to withstand Jason Stuart if he decided to truly exert himself at persuasion.
It was two days after this conversation that Lauren heard Jason's arrival at Bellefleur.
The Beauvais plantation wasn't exceedingly large by current standards, but it was quite profitable, boasting a small refinery for its prime crop of sugarcane. The house itself was spacious and elegant, and sat well back from the river, surrounded by moss-covered live oaks. Typical of Creole residences, it was built upon brick pillars to minimize the danger of flooding, with turned-wood colonnettes and wide, graceful galleries. The lower floor of the house was used only for storage and laundry and as service quarters. On the second floor were the main rooms and sleeping apartments for the family, all of which had direct access to the outdoors via tall French windows.
As Lauren moved slowly along the gallery, her heart gave a queer leap, for she could hear the soft resonance of Jason's voice through the open doorway of the study. Jean-Paul started to reply to Jason's comment, but when he saw Lauren, he broke off the conversation and gestured to her, bidding her enter.
Lauren was surprised to find Jean-Paul's young son Charles with the two men. She was also surprised when Charles didn't run to her the way he usually did, for Jason was holding the boy on his lap. As Lauren entered, he set the child on sofa and politely rose to his feet.
Lauren took two steps into the room, then halted suddenly, nearly gasping at the warm shock that raced through her. She had forgotten the effect Jason's brilliant blue gaze had on her. For a moment, as their eyes met, she even had difficulty controlling her breathing. And by the time she was able to, Jean-Paul was speaking. It was ail she could do to listen to him.
"Lauren, Lord Effing has refused your offer of the Carlin ships. I have explained how matters stand with me, however, and he has agreed to remain your adviser, so long as you need him. It is this assurance that permits me to commit my services. I have proposed to put him in contact with men who can be of help in this distribution venture. I have also suggested that he and his friend, Captain Ramsey, remove from their hotel. His lordship has accepted my offer to stay here while they are visitors to New Orleans."
"I . . . I see," Lauren said slowly, not quite knowing how to greet this news. If Jason had refused the Carlin Line, then he must still believe she could be coerced into marriage. It was impossible to tell from his expression what he was thinking, though. He hadn't said a word. He only stood there, silently watching her.
Yet she was entirely aware of his overwhelming physical presence. Feeling herself succumbing to the fascinating aura of power that radiated from him, Lauren clasped her hands tightly together. "Thank you, Jean-Paul. But cannot his lordship speak for himself?"
A humorous gleam crept into the blue eyes, before Jason made a slight bow. "Certainly, Miss DeVries. Was there some point in particular that was beyond your understanding? I myself thought Monsieur Beauvais expressed himself with adequate eloquence. There remains only for me to thank him again for the gracious offer of his hospitality."
Lauren's eyes flashed warningly, but she managed to maintain a calm tone. "Then it is all or nothing?" she asked.
Jason did not pretend to misunderstand her. "It has always been so," he replied quietly. In his voice, there was an underlying ring of determination, and his intent look compelled her gaze to remain locked with his. "But realize, Lauren, it is not a declaration of war. There can be two victors."
She shook her head slowly. "No," she whispered. "I don't believe that." Then collecting herself, Lauren said firmly, "But neither do I wish to speak of it. Why don't you tell us about your trip? Was it a success?"
"It is too soon to tell," he replied, refusing to be baited.
Jean-Paul made some comment to young Charles then, but Lauren hardly heard. Again, as always when she was with Jason, she had the strange sensation of being alone with him. It was as if only the two of them existed in the world. To break the spell, she made herself turn and retrace her steps. With her back to him, she said in low voice, "You will not be happy with 'nothing', I think."
There was a long pause where even the child was quiet. In the silence, Lauren could hear the beating of her heart. "Nor will you," Jason said at last. Lifting her skirts, Lauren almost ran from the room.
Chapter Fifteen
By unspoken agreement, the contention between them wasn't referred to again, even though it was there, simmering beneath the surface. Jason had openly declared his intention of winning her hand as well as the Carlin ships; Lauren was determined he wouldn't succeed.
She would have preferred to shun Jason's company altogether. His uncanny ability to read her mind alarmed her, and she was afraid that she would succumb to the sheer force of his compelling personality. But because they were guests in the same house, and because their bargain required they spend their days together, she found it impossible to avoid him.
Her days began to assume a pattern. Normally she would rise early and breakfast with Jason and Kyle. Then one of them would drive her into town while the other rode beside the phaeton.
That first morning, they met with a solicitor who showed them various buildings and lots near the waterfront. Their primary order of business was to find a building with a central location which could be converted to an office for the Carlin Line, the secondary one, to choose a site for their soon-to-be- built warehouses, with proximity to both the River Road and the city.
It took nearly a week for the decision to be made and the sale to be finalized. Much of that time Lauren spent on board the Siren, their temporary headquarters, learning about ledgers and bookkeeping and accounting, and she found herself becoming more involved with the Carlin Line than she ever intended.
In the end, they purchased a small brick building on Levee Street, whose refurbishing proved a big challenge. Filth and cobwebs littered the interior, while rats infested the woodwork, if the frequency of odd scufflings was any indication. Disgusted by the unsanitary conditions, Lauren volunteered to set the building to rights, and the next morning when she came down to breakfast, she was wearing one of her old cotton gowns. Jason raised an eyebrow at her appearance, but beyond warning her that she had a difficult task before her, he made no comment.
Lauren
was determined to uphold her end of the bargain, though. She borrowed nearly every indoor servant at Bellefleur from Lila, along with an arsenal of mops and brooms and buckets. For the rats, she brought Ulysses.
Both Jason and Kyle were banished from the premises, and when they were allowed in three days later, they were given a tour of a spotlessly clean building. Lauren basked under their praise, even going so far as to laugh when Jason wiped a smudge of dirt from her cheek.
"I suppose I could provide references if you should ever decide to become a scullery drudge," Jason offered.
"I'm far more ambitious," Lauren said with a smile. "An upstairs maid is much more my style."
After that, she saw little of Jason during the day. He was busy hiring a crew to build the new warehouses, while she supervised the painters and carpenters and drapers at the offices.
She was never alone. Because the neighborhood was not the best, Jason had insisted that two men from the Siren be with her at all times. Usually this included Tim Sutter, whom Lauren grew to like. An elderly black woman from the Beauvais plantation was also present to lend respectability. Veronique was a frequent visitor to the new offices, and Lila stopped by to check on the progress whenever she came to town to shop.
Surprisingly, though, Lauren found herself missing Jason's company. And without realizing it, she began to change her routine at home so she could see more of him.
Upon Jason's arrival at Bellefleur, she had begun retiring early to her room, pleading fatigue as an excuse to avoid him. But now, she lingered in the drawing room until well after the tea tray was brought in. Occasionally she would join the others in a game of whist or piquet, and sometimes she would play the pianoforte, but usually she would settle into a corner with a book or a piece of embroidery and watch Jason from under lowered lashes.
That he puzzled her, she couldn't deny. He treated her with the friendly warmth that he might have shown a favorite hound, and gave her little cause to think she was being wooed. Even so, she wasn't convinced Jason had given up on the idea of marrying her to gain the Carlin ships. She was wary and distrustful and determined to keep her distance.
More and more, though, Lauren found herself letting down her guard. Jason Stuart was the kind of man who compelled trust, and she often forgot to be wary of him. Unconsciously, she even began seeking his approval, accepting his guidance without protest, even when she suspected she was complying too easily.
Had she guessed that Jason was following a careful strategy to win her trust and affection, Lauren might have admired his determination, even while resisting his every attempt to breech her defenses. But his methods were a masterpiece of subtlety, appealing to her logic and pride.
After the offices were completed, Lauren saw less of Jason during the day than before, since he spent most of his time down at the waterfront where the new warehouses were being constructed. But he kept his end of the bargain also, and saw to it that she learned the inside operation of the shipping line. In fact, Lauren was fully occupied, developing the bookkeeping system and organizing the ledgers.
Kyle showed her how to make an inventory of easily accessible goods, and under his direction, she learned to match routes of the Carlin ships to current points of trade. Their plan was to develop a network of commerce instead of having goods sold by captains of individual ships. It wasn't that the method of trade was new, but the scale on which Jason meant to operate was almost staggering to contemplate.
They hired two clerks for the office, and when Matthew MacGregor returned from his latest trip upriver, he also accepted a job working for Jason. Although Matthew protested that he wasn't qualified to handle the bookwork, he shortly dispelled any doubts about his abilities as a salesman. Armed with the list of potential customers suggested by Jean-Paul, Matthew set out to establish a market for the furniture, fine fabrics, and manufactured goods from England's factories that the Carlin ships would import, and to find adequate sources for the cotton, sugar, leather, furs, and tobacco to be exported to Europe.
Lauren was surprised to discover how smoothly the venture proceeded from there. Shortly they had orders to be filled both in England and the West Indies. Jason approved the initial schedule Lauren developed, deeming it adequate for the fledgling branch, then promptly wrote to his overseas agents, setting the plan in motion.
She also was surprised by Jason's familiarity with a number of America's prominent statesmen and entrepreneurs. The volume of his correspondence was quite large, but he refused Lauren's offer of help, saying that when he returned to England, he would turn the lot of it over to his secretary and make the fellow earn his salary.
Lauren found that comment unaccountably depressing. She realized, of course, that the situation between them couldn't go on indefinitely, but she didn't like contemplating the thought that Jason would leave some day.
She knew him better now, and she could see his faults and weaknesses. Besides possessing a temper that could rage with white-hot fury, he could be persistent and tenacious to the point of stubbornness, and occasionally he was self-indulgent, often taking comfort and luxury for granted. His fondness for young Charles rivaled that of the boy's father, and he tended to spoil the child, if the frequent complaints of the boy's nurse were to be believed. On the credit side, however, he had a number of qualities Lauren admired, including a depth of intelligence that was startling to watch in action. And in spite of all her efforts to keep her distance, she was drawn to him.
It was curious, the effect he had on her. He made her feel alive, sharpening her senses and wits, and when she was in his company, the restless loneliness she had known for so many years disappeared. Even the terrible dreams that had plagued her for so many years rarely tormented her since Jason had come to Bellefleur. Ulysses's presence in her room had a soothing effect, of course, but after the first time she had awakened from a nightmare to find Jason holding her trembling body and murmuring comforting words in her ear, she knew that if she needed him, he would be near.
Still, the cloud of her past was always there. And when sometimes Lauren caught herself wondering what her answer to Jason's proposal would have been had she been free to make the choice, she firmly admonished herself for daydreaming.
Yet her physical attraction for him was especially difficult to ignore. Often, as she lay alone in her bed, she would recall the feel of his body moving against hers, and the arousing warmth of his hands on her breasts, and desire would spring up in her, hot and wild, making her ache with longing.
She missed him most during the evenings when he remained in town, either alone or with Kyle, and she couldn't stop herself from wondering what Jason was doing each moment. When eventually she learned, though, the discovery hurt unbelievably.
Veronique had come to visit the new office and was lamenting the fact that her handsome Kyle had left to visit his family in Natchez. While complaining how boring New Orleans was without him, Veronique let slip that she sometimes saw Jason at the gaming house.
Seeing Lauren's stricken expression, the redhead beauty added hastily that it was only to be expected. "He does not go upstairs with any of the girls," Veronique explained. "Or at least, I have only seen him do so once."
Lauren tried to swallow the ache in her throat. She had no right to demand fidelity of Jason, she knew, but the thought of him with another woman filled her with anguish. "Who . . . who was he with?" she said hoarsely.
Veronique wrinkled her nose in distaste. "Desiree Chaudier." When Lauren stiffened at the mention of the malicious dark-haired beauty, Veronique leaned forward to pat her hands consolingly. "It means nothing, mon chou. Men do not look on these things as serious. You should put it from your mind. You know how that slut Desiree always boasts of her clients. Half of what she says is not to be believed." A mask had descended over Lauren's face, though, and Veronique had no trouble recognizing it for what it was: a guard against further pain. "What do you intend to do?" she queried, frowning.
Lauren's chin came up. "I find sudde
nly that I have grown tired of patiently sitting at home while Jason enjoys himself. Look for me tonight at the casino, for I shall be there."
Veronique eyed her skeptically. "But what of M'sieur Jason? He will not be happy with this. Will he give his permission?"
"It isn't Jason's place to say what I may or may not do. Besides," she added with a bitter smile, "you've always told me that a woman who could not get what she wanted from a man was a disgrace to her sex."
"I said also that a man who could not stand up to a woman was no real man. I think this is a mistake you are making, miette."
Lauren pressed her lips together. "Perhaps. We shall just have to see, won't we?"
That afternoon Lauren disregarded Jason's wishes for the first time, and instead for waiting for him to collect her at the office, she set off on foot for the waterfront, accompanied by her protesting bodyguards. When she arrived at the Siren, where Jason often worked, she didn't bother to knock on the door to his cabin, but went directly in, with Tim Sutter hard on her heels.
Jason was writing at his large desk. He hardly gave them a glance, but when Tim began to speak, Jason waved him away. The lad retreated obediently, leaving Lauren to pace the cabin while she waited for Jason to conclude whatever he had been doing.
"Sit down, Lauren. I shall be finished in a moment" was his only comment.
Hearing the hard note in his tone, however, Lauren realized that he was angry. Perhaps, she admitted with sudden apprehension, her impulsive action had been ill-considered. With unaccustomed meekness, Lauren obeyed. Sitting in one of the chairs that had been pulled up before the desk, she placed her hands in her lap and willed them to be still.
The silence grew more ominous with each passing minute; only the scratch of Jason's pen could be heard. Lauren eyed Jason warily. He was casually dressed, having doffed his coat, and she could see the muscles of his arms rippling under his shirt of finest lawn. She would be completely defenseless, she knew, if Jason ever unleashed his powerful physical strength on her. She tensed when he put down his pen.
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