In the open air café, Annalisa took a seat at a small round table overlooking the banks of the Mississippi. A little farther down, she could see the activity on the docks as a ship was being unloaded.
A waiter appeared. "Café, mademoiselle?"
"Please. And beignets."
A minute later she bit into the fried cake and sipped a cup of rich cafe au lait. As a paddle-wheeler moved gracefully along the river, she reflected on how much her life had changed in a few short weeks. She had come to New Orleans to see her mother and to announce her intention of entering the convent. But her mother had died, still a stranger to her. And she had taken Sara’s place among a group of women far different from the sisters she had always known. In many ways, she thought, sipping coffee, they really weren’t so different. She had discovered in these women a goodness, an integrity that she admired.
"May I join you, Miss Montgomery?"
Annalisa started at the voice. Emile Soulet stood beside her table, hat in hand. In the late afternoon heat his shirt was plastered to his skin. His hair was damp and matted.
As he settled his heavy bulk onto the chair across from her, he signaled for a waiter. After ordering, he gave her a toothless smile.
"I see you’ve had an accident, Mr. Soulet."
He wiped a hand across his mouth and touched the spot where his front teeth had been. "Nothing serious, ma’am."
"Did you wish to discuss business, Mr. Soulet?"
He seemed surprised by her question. "Not at all, Miss Montgomery. I just wondered if your last order was to your satisfaction."
She noted the deference in his tone and was puzzled by it. The last time they’d met, he had been surly and aggressive.
"My shipment of goods was fine."
"I’m glad, ma’am. Chase Masters stopped by to—explain that you had been more than generous with me, and that any shipment of yours should be handled with the greatest care."
Annalisa set down her cup with a clatter and looked at him. Soulet seemed almost apologetic. In two bites he disposed of a plateful of beignets. With a slurp, he downed the hot coffee.
"Mr. Masters warned me not to expect any more money until you felt I’d earned it." He rubbed two fingers gingerly over his jaw and added, "Chase Masters can be very persuasive, if you know what I mean."
She didn’t know, but she had no intention of telling him so.
He stood and gave a slight bow. "Nice seeing you, Miss Montgomery. You just let me know if you have any problems with shipments on my docks."
"I will. Thank you, Mr. Soulet."
As the man lumbered away, the truth suddenly dawned on her. With a little gasp, she realized that Chase had used brute strength to stop Soulet’s bribery demands. That was why Soulet had been so cowed. For a moment her heart seemed to leap to her throat. Chase had taken it upon himself to become her champion.
Seeing Hattie Lee making her way through the crowd, Annalisa decided to say nothing of this. But the frown she had been wearing earlier was now replaced by a smile as warm as the New Orleans sunshine.
* * *
Late at night, Annalisa often found herself lying wide awake, trying to figure out a way to deal with Charles Montagnet, the governor’s aide. It was inevitable that he would return from Washington. It was just as inevitable that when he did, he would demand payment for his influence with his employer. If she wanted to stay in business in Louisiana, she would have to deal with him.
Those predawn sessions yielded no answers; only more questions about the future of the women who depended on her.
Unlike Soulet, Montagnet was an intelligent man. Worse, she sensed a cruelty in him. He had named his price. One thousand dollars. An impossible sum. He had to be aware of that. He would enjoy seeing her squirm. Knowing he had set an unfair fee, he had insinuated that he would accept a payment other than money. She shuddered. The price was too high. She knew instinctively that he would never be satisfied with a mere flirtation. A few sweet words would never appease a man like that. He would turn her into something she had vowed she would never be. She felt revulsion at the very thought. Never. There had to be another way.
Pacing the floor of her office one sultry day, she pondered the problem of Montagnet. She needed to seek out someone who had connections in high places. The governor’s aide couldn’t simply be bullied into submission as Soulet had.
Soulet. Her frown deepened. It was Chase Masters who had changed the sullen man into a meek one. And on the riverboat, hadn’t Chase boasted that it was his connections in high places that saved her from a humiliating interview with the ship’s captain?
She began to pace once more. She hated being indebted once again to that infuriating man. She already owed him far too many favors. But this could mean the difference between staying in business or being forced to close down. She paused, nervously tapping her foot. What would happen to those women upstairs if this business abruptly ended? She thought of sweet Delia, trusting Eulalie. Hadn’t Gabrielle once thought of ending her own life? And what of Francine, whose horrors during the war had left such emotional scars? And what of the older women, who rarely worked now, but continued living their lives here? She sighed. There was Hattie Lee to think of. She had invested her whole life here.
Realizing what she had to do, Annalisa walked to the desk and hastily wrote a note, then sealed it. Summoning one of the maids, she dispatched her to find Chase Masters, praying that he had returned from his latest trip.
* * *
"You sent for me?"
Annalisa smiled a greeting and offered Chase a chair beside her desk. As always, she felt intimidated by his presence. To cover up, she opened her ledgers and strove for a businesslike appearance.
"Yes. I wish to thank you for—speaking to Emile Soulet."
A hint of a smile touched his lips. "We arrived at a mutual understanding."
Annalisa played with the pen in her hands. "He’s been respectful ever since."
His tone hardened a fraction. "He’d better be, if he knows what’s good for him."
Annalisa lifted her gaze from the desktop and studied him. "I know what you did to him. And although I abhor brute force, I am very grateful." She sucked in her breath. "And now, I need another favor from you."
Chase quirked an eyebrow. This was a first for this obstinate little creature. He waited patiently, knowing how much it must cost her to ask.
"When I told you about Soulet and Montagnet, I neglected to tell you how much Montagnet asked for."
Chase watched as she licked her lips. Reaching for a cigar, he bit the end.
"A thousand dollars."
His hand holding the cigar paused in midair.
"Or," her voice remained deliberately calm, "he suggested we might be able to work out some other arrangement."
"That bastard!" Chase sat very still, feeling a wave of fury that shook him. When he could finally trust his voice, he asked, "How long do you have before you respond to this?"
"Whenever he returns from Washington. He thought he might be gone two or three weeks at the most."
Calculating the time, Chase frowned. "Why did you wait so long to tell me this?"
"Because," she said, spreading her hands helplessly, "I’d hoped to come up with the money. But I expect he’ll be here to collect any day now. And I can’t pay him."
"That’s what he’s hoping for." Chase leaned closer as she held a light to the tip of his cigar. Her hand, he noted, was steady. She continually amazed him.
"You believe then that he deliberately set the price too high so that I would have to agree to—his other terms?"
"Of course. The man’s no fool. You’d be quite a prize for any man."
She failed to note the admiration in his tone. She was aware only that she had been right in her assumption. Her heart fell. Montagnet had known all along that she would have no way out of his little trap.
Twisting the pen in her hands, she asked softly, "Is there anything you can do to help me, Chase?"
/> Didn’t she know that he would cut out his heart if she asked in that tone of voice? He hoped she never discovered the power she could wield over him. That kind of power could be fatal. He took a long drag on his cigar and watched the smoke cud toward the ceiling.
"It happens that I have a document in my possession with the governor’s signature." Seeing her look of surprise, he gave her a mysterious smile. "In my line of work, such things come in handy." His look grew suddenly sober. "I’d be willing to bet that the governor has no knowledge of Montagnet’s offer. If you were to suggest that you went over Montagnet’s head directly to his employer, I suspect he’d be forced to back off."
"Oh, Chase, do you think so?"
The look he gave her was grave. "I’m a gambling man, Annalisa. I’m used to taking certain risks. But are you willing to risk your safety on my hunch?"
She never paused, never wavered. "I trust you, Chase. Together I think we can beat Montagnet."
She paused for a moment before continuing. "I’m sorry to have to ask you to waste a big favor on me, Chase, but I’m desperate. Will you forge the governor’s signature?"
He nodded.
She let out a shaky breath. "I appreciate this more than I can say."
He opened his mouth to respond, then seemed to think better of it and drew deeply on his cigar. But with a man like Montagnet, he knew the matter was far from solved.
* * *
"Mr. Montagnet is here." Hattie Lee stood in the doorway a moment watching as Annalisa quickly disposed of the ledgers she’d been working on. At her nod, the black woman showed him in, then closed the door behind him.
"Miss Montgomery." He crossed the room and lifted her hand to his lips. He was so smooth. So sure of himself.
"Mr. Montagnet."
"Charles."
Ignoring his request for a more casual relationship, she asked, "How was your trip to Washington?"
"Profitable," he said with a knowing smile. "And speaking of profits, how have yours been?"
"We manage to pay our bills."
"That brings us to the nature of my visit."
"Of course." For the first time, she smiled. "One thousand dollars, I believe you said."
His own smile faded slightly. "I also suggested that if that fee was too high, there would be a way around it."
"But the price is manageable," she said, lifting an envelope from a locked drawer. Handing it to him, she watched as he counted out a hundred dollars.
Looking up with a puzzled frown he asked, "What is this supposed to mean?"
"This month’s payment, Charles."
"I didn’t say anything about making the payment in monthly installments."
"Surely you didn’t expect me to come up with one thousand dollars in cash?"
His voice lowered. "You didn’t need to come up with any money at all, Miss Montgomery. I thought you understood our arrangement."
"We had no arrangement." Handing him the letter she and Chase had drafted, she added, "An intermediary discussed your request with the governor. He agreed that a thousand dollars in one payment seemed a bit high. As he explains in this letter, the governor has agreed to payments of one hundred dollars a month for the next year."
"You told the governor?" He scraped back his chair and stood so quickly the money fluttered to the floor, scattering about his feet.
She let out a sigh of relief. In his anxiety, he hadn’t even bothered to glance at the handwritten note or at the forged signature. "Why, Charles, didn’t you want him to know?" she asked in her sweetest tone. "I thought this was all his idea."
He moved menacingly closer and caught her roughly by the shoulder. "You little bitch. What kind of fool do you take me for?"
"You’re no fool," she said softly, forcing herself to stare up into his cruel eyes. "You’re a very clever man. And you had a very clever scheme going for you. None of my money would have ever found its way to the governor, would it? I would have been paying you for nothing."
"Nothing?" His eyes glittered dangerously. "You forget. I happen to be the governor’s aide. That gives me a great deal of power." His hands dug into her shoulders, causing her to cry out in pain. "Unless you decide to be very nice to me, Miss Montgomery, you could find yourself in a great deal of trouble."
Without warning the door opened and Chase stood framed in the doorway. Montagnet glowered at him. "Miss Montgomery and I are busy."
"Yes. I can see that," Chase drawled, but he made no move to leave.
Montagnet tightened his grip on Annalisa and glared at the man who had interrupted. "What do you want here, Masters?"
"My business is with Miss Montgomery."
"She’s busy."
Chase took several steps closer. There was an aura of power about him that made even the strongest men tremble. "I’ll wait."
With a look of fury, Charles Montagnet released his grip on her, shoving her backward. "You haven’t seen the last of me." His words were spoken very softly, for her ears alone.
As he strode from the room, she touched a hand to her bruised shoulder.
"Did he hurt you?" Chase stayed where he was, forcing himself not to go to her.
"I’m fine. How did you happen to be here?"
He lifted a cigar from the box on her desk and bit the end in a casual gesture. Only the muscle in his jaw betrayed him. "I told Hattie Lee to send for me as soon as Montagnet showed up. Gamblers always tip the odds in their favor."
Mechanically Annalisa held a lighted taper to the end of the cigar and waited until he emitted a cloud of smoke. She looked up to see him watching her through narrowed eyes.
"I guess I owe you again."
He gave her a lazy smile that sent her heart spiraling. His nerves still taut, he tossed the cigar aside and caught her by the shoulder, dragging her roughly against him. He’d gambled for high stakes before, Chase thought. But never had he risked so much.
As he pressed hungry lips to hers, he felt his erratic heartbeat, his unsteady breathing. Was it anger? Passion? Or was it something else that caused him to hold her firmly against his chest and press ragged kisses to her eyelids, her temple, the corner of her lips?
With a long, shuddering breath, he caught her by the shoulders and drew her a little away. With one last gentle kiss, he turned.
With his hand on the knob he said, "Better watch it. Some day I may decide to collect on these debts."
Chapter Thirteen
"What lesson will we work on today?"
Annalisa groaned inwardly as Delia’s eyes lit up with the thought of once again being the teacher. This shy, retiring little girl seemed to come out of her shell of silence during these daily lessons. She found great joy in imparting all her worldly knowledge to one as sheltered as Annalisa. On Delia’s shoulder, Old Gray perched, balancing himself as she moved.
"Flirting," Delia said with importance. "Annalisa seems comfortable mixing a drink, lighting a man’s cigar, or carrying on animated conversations. But she refuses to be flirtatious."
"It’s demeaning," Annalisa said, flouncing down into a chair.
"Maybe you’d like to leave all the demeaning work for us." Francine’s sarcastic tone masked the pain she and the others felt at Annalisa’s words.
"I didn’t mean ..."
Hattie Lee’s head came up. Putting aside her French patterns, she said sternly, "Everyone in this house must do her share for the common good." Staring pointedly at Annalisa, she added, "I don’t see how it could hurt to be a little more flirtatious."
Eager to atone for her mistake, Annalisa became subdued. "Whatever you think."
So Annalisa’s first lesson in the art of flirting began. Finally, after about an hour or so, Annalisa had mastered the use of the fan and her eyes.
"Very good, chérie," Gabrielle said. "In fact, I used my eyes just that way last night to relax Mr. Willis and Mr. Stanley when they were discussing outstanding bank loans and land that will have to be sold for back taxes."
Annalisa’s hand w
ent very still. The fluttering of her lashes ceased. "Did Mr. Willis mention names?"
Gabrielle shrugged. "So many it made my head swim. But once I got his attention, he soon forgot about his dull banking business. In fact," she added with a laugh, "he was very generous."
Annalisa was impressed. Knowing how much the banker loved money, she could appreciate what skill Gabrielle possessed to get him to part with any.
"Now." Francine unfolded her long legs, pulling herself from the sofa where she’d been reclining. She was clad in a gossamer gown, revealing her statuesque figure. "There are other tricks you should learn about flirting. Watch."
Pushing Eulalie into a chair as a model, the taller girl positioned herself behind her and demonstrated. Picking up an empty glass, Francine said softly, "Your drink, monsieur." As she handed the glass to Eulalie, she bent low over her shoulder, pressing her bosom into the upper part of the girl’s arm.
Annalisa watched in amazement. "Francine, I can’t believe you actually expect me to rub myself against one of our gentlemen."
The others howled with laughter.
"You make it sound so unpleasant! It can be as subtle as a touch," Gabrielle explained patiently, placing her hand lightly on Eulalie’s arm, staring earnestly into her big dark eyes, as she acted out her instructions, "or as blatant as a squeeze." Pressing herself firmly against the other girl, she closed her fingers around her upper arm and pulled herself even closer. Turning her head toward her pupil she said, "You see, chérie, every man needs a different signal."
Francine gave a low laugh. "Edmond Lafourcade needs nothing more than a slight nod. That man is always ready."
The others chuckled, obviously knowledgeable about the mayor-elect and his calculated appetite for women.
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