by Jenny Lykins
Unfortunately, it seemed to do the opposite. He was acutely aware of every man who came within two feet of Elise. And there had been many. She had insisted on returning to the ball, and it had looked as though she was trying her best to numb her own senses. She'd had quite a few glasses of champagne and danced several dances before the announcement was made. Reed knew. He knew exactly who she'd danced with, how many times, and what type of dance.
It had been a slow and painful torture to watch her in the arms of other men. With each of her new partners he'd had to speculate if that would be the man Elise would marry, now that he knew he would never be her husband. When Jeffrey, in particular, claimed her for a waltz, he had wanted to slam his fist into Vancouer’s face. The thought of her spending her life with someone else, bearing another man's child, those warm, loving arms around someone else's neck and gazing up at him with those playful green eyes. Making love...
Once, he had brushed past her and their arms touched, and he'd reacted as violently as if she had wrapped her body around him.
He'd watched her follow Lilianna onto the veranda and forced himself to remain inside when Lil reported to him sotto voce that Elise needed some time alone.
He hadn't seen her return on the arm of Ballard Fetter. He'd only seen her smiling charmingly up at him while they stumbled through a waltz. It took him several seconds before he realized her smile was nothing more than a facade. And just as this knowledge dawned on him, he watched Elise slam her knee deep into Fetter's groin. It all happened so quickly it was over before he'd had time to react.
He did react, however, when he'd had Big John escort Ballard out by the scruff of his neck. He'd excused himself from his guests and appeared outside the stables where Ballard was having difficulty finding the stirrup on his saddle.
Reed had proceeded to soundly pummel the man, all the while explaining that he meant for him to never step foot on Blackwell land again. In between each punishing blow he had calmly proclaimed that, even though Fetter was a cousin to Angeline, smack, he was forever persona non grata, smack, and if he ever touched Elise Gerard or showed his face on Oak Vista again, smack, he could expect the same hospitality he was receiving at the moment, smack. After having vigorously made his point clear, Reed had stepped over the once-again unconscious Fetter and retired to the kitchen to procure some ice for his knuckles.
He now flexed his fingers, working out the stiffness that had set in overnight. He still had the urge to slam his fist into the wall.
While he shaved he focused his mind on the upcoming events of the day and tried to plan how to get through them. There was to be a picnic, croquet, a horse race, and where in the name of God did she learn to do that? His thoughts leaped back to the night before.
He'd never seen anyone move in such a fashion - certainly not a woman. And why had she not simply called for help? The ballroom had buzzed of nothing else the remainder of the evening, and he was amazed at the different attitudes taken. Some of the younger women had actually praised her actions, saying they'd wished many times that they'd had the courage and ability to fell Ballard. He apparently had garnered a slimy reputation among the ladies and was kept at a distance whenever possible.
Of course, most of the guests were aghast at Elise's unruly methods of deterring Fetter's attentions, but held their tongues in front of Reed. Instead, they settled for walking around with pursed lips and raised eyebrows. He only hoped that if she chose to join the events of the day she would not be cut dead.
*******
Elise had been up for hours, after getting all of maybe fifteen minutes sleep during the night. She brushed her hair mechanically and chastised herself for acting like she was in a bad Chinese movie the night before. She closed her eyes and shook her bowed head, visualizing herself in a ballgown, kicking a drunk in the head.
Way to go, stupid.
A low, guttural moan crept out of her throat at the picture, and she wondered if she would ever be able to face all those people today. Even if she hadn't made a fool of herself last night, she wasn't sure if she could face Reed with Angeline and allow the woman to remain standing.
A decisive knock sounded at the door, and her spirits lifted slightly. Lil would have a positive outlook or an uplifting, if not weird, piece of advice.
But Lil was not the person who slithered through the door, closing it behind her with a click.
Angeline leaned against the solid wood, her ubiquitous ruffles today in shades of blue that matched her eyes. Those eyes were drilling holes of hate, but Elise refused to acknowledge her presence with more than a disinterested glance.
"I want you out of here," Angeline finally said, her voice starting out as a hiss and increasing in volume. "You have worn out your welcome, coming here uninvited and behaving like a trollop. You have tried to come between me and my betrothed, you have embarrassed us both, and you have ruined my betrothal party with your outlandish histrionics."
Angeline's chest began to heave. In the back of her mind, Elise rather hoped that the scanty bodice would succumb to gravity and cause an embarrassing moment for the bitch.
"I want you gone before you can wreak more havoc. Pack your measly belongings and be out of here within the hour."
Elise sat casually in front of the cheval glass and continued to brush her hair during this monologue. Inwardly she longed to pounce on the little witch and yank her bald. Instead, she calmly laid aside the brush and fluffed her hair while studying her reflection. After a careful, deliberate smoothing of an eyebrow, she turned to Angeline.
"First of all...sugar...I haven't tried to come between you and Reed. I have come between you. As you were told last night and chose to ignore, Reed loves me, and I love him. Secondly, Oak Vista still belongs to Reed. I find it laughable that you march in here and order me out of someone else's home. Rather full of yourself, aren't you?
"Let me put this to you in a way you might understand, Angeline. You are no more to me than a pebble in my shoe, an irritant that is easily removed. And trust me... sugar...I will remove you, but in my own good time. Now, I believe I'll have some breakfast and join the others."
Elise rose, twitched the back of her skirt with one hand and enjoyed a final glance in the mirror.
When Angeline, visibly shaking, her face a contortion of rage, refused to move away from the door Elise pulled it open with a heave, knocking her nemesis awkwardly into the middle of the room.
Elise swept through the portal, showing a bravura she didn't feel. She was well aware that she'd not only talked her way out of any reprieve from the day, but had issued a ridiculous threat that she had no hope of fulfilling.
*******
Breakfast went better than she expected. Most of the guests were still asleep, and those awake had already eaten and moved on to other activities. She had the dining room to herself while she picked over the eggs, ham and sugar-sprinkled beignets Verda brought to her. The little maid was refilling her cup with steaming black coffee when Jeffrey strolled into the room. When he saw her his eyes lit with amusement. He took a seat directly across from her.
Elise scooted her chair out in preparation to leave, hoping to escape and avoid having to even speak to him.
"I trust you slept well, Miss Gerard."
She wanted to slap the smarmy look right off his face.
"Like a baby, Mr. Vancoeur."
She rose to her feet then and slid the chair backwards with the back of her legs.
"I must say you displayed some very interesting dance steps last evening with old Ballard. Wherever did you learn such a thing?"
His wide-eyed look of innocent sincerity came close to eliciting a few well-chosen curses from Elise. Instead she held delicate fingers to her temples and batted helpless eyes at him.
"Why, I just can't remembah, suh. Where on earth would a little ol' thing like me learn to do somethin' like that to a big, strong man?"
Jeffrey laughed, but his mirth didn't quite reach his eyes. He was studying her, and Elise fe
lt like a deer trapped in the headlights of an oncoming semi. Before he had a chance to speak again, she tore her gaze from his and forced herself to walk casually out the door.
Right into Reed.
She hadn't heard him coming. She would have chosen another exit if she'd known he was there. His hands encircled her arms to steady her when she staggered backward. The heat of his hands burned a path from her arms right into her soul. She longed to take his hands in hers and drag him into the closest room, to have those hands run over every aching inch of her body. Instead she jerked her arms free and glared up at him.
He stood with his hands hovering inches from her arms. Elise could almost feel him wanting to touch her again but knew he didn't dare.
His face was haggard, as if he'd not slept for days, and his bloodshot eyes were filled with misery. She knew her own pain so mirrored his it was as though she'd crawled right into his skin and been living his emotions. They stood so close his breath ghosted across her face. The smell of mint mingled with his musk, and she could almost taste it.
When his hands dropped to his sides the spell was broken. She snapped to attention and backed away.
"I have to go."
"Elise, please..."
She didn't look back as she rushed out the door. She didn't want to see his face if just hearing the anguish in his voice could tear so at her heart.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Confusion pulled her in different directions. She needed to get as far away from the house as possible. She needed time to think. Emotions battled within her, and she wasn't sure which one would win - love or anger.
When the shock of his announcement had begun to wear off, the first seed of anger began to grow. Her anger at Reed was mixed with guilt. Elise knew he would never go into this marriage unless Angeline forced him. Nonetheless, she wanted him to defy the rules of society, damn his honor, and carry her off to some place that wouldn't care who they were or how strange she acted.
Bitterness and anger welled inside her. By God, she had honored his moral convictions, then he turned around and got a woman pregnant. A woman with the morals of an alley cat, no doubt.
Elise's feet scuffed the ground in weary defeat as they carried her farther away from the house. She considered what would happen if she just kept on walking. At least she wouldn't have to face Reed again, with Angeline hanging on his arm like one of the twenty dollar hookers on Bourbon Street. Then again, she supposed, there probably aren't any hookers on Bourbon Street, yet.
She grabbed at a handful of maple leaves on a low hanging branch and systematically shredded them while she continued her musings. She walked on, following a narrow path that took her away from Oak Vista and Reed. Too bad she couldn’t escape her misery so easily.
Her thoughts were interrupted by the muffled sound of childlike crying. She forgot her own troubles for a moment while she searched for the source.
The path had thinned to nonexistence before she found what she was looking for.
Two little boys, each about ten years old, sat on a huge, fallen log that jutted out over a clear, sparkling stream. She had almost missed them, hidden as they were behind the thick drapery of a weeping willow. She watched for a moment and assessed the situation.
"It's not fair," the first little boy said between sobs, "we haven't done anything wrong."
"We ain't gots to do nothing wrong, Master Nicholas. We know'd we couldn't b..be f..friends forever."
Elise's heart ached for the two small boys who, she realized now, were being torn apart by racial barriers. While she watched, the little boys burst into tears again and comforted each other with a hesitant hug.
She took that moment to part the curtain of leaves and step into their little sanctuary. The nonchalant approach would probably be best.
"Hi, guys. What's the problem?"
The two friends jumped apart with terrified looks. The dark-skinned boy accidentally knocked his blond-headed friend sideways when they moved apart. He seemed to hang suspended for a moment, then tumbled head first into the stream.
"Oh, Sweet Jesus! Oh, my Lordy, Ma'am. Save Master Nicholas, please!"
The little slave bounded back and forth along the log, the whites of his eyes glowing against the darkness of his face. His friend sputtered and thrashed below him.
Elise ran to the log and hitched up her skirts, then knelt to balance her knees on the crumbling bark until she could reach for the boy. Her first instinct was to dive in after him, but she knew the layers of clothes she wore would weigh her down and endanger them both. When one of Nicholas's hands waved wildly above the water she clapped a firm grip on it and started to pull.
"Oh, thank Sweet Jesus, Missus. I help you pull him out."
She heard the voice and felt a tiny hand on her shoulder. Then her free hand was flailing to regain her precarious balance.
Panic seized her as she too fell head first into the water. She immediately started tearing at her clothes with one hand to rid herself of the extra weight, all the while holding tight to Nicholas.
She could have laughed out loud when her feet touched bottom and she realized how shallow the water was.
She struggled for a moment to gain a firm footing on the slimy creek bottom and then straightened her legs. Her head broke the surface, and she rose until the water lapped just below her breasts. Why, the water wasn't more than four feet deep.
Nicholas must have felt her stand up because he stopped his thrashing and lowered his feet also. His chin floated just below the water, and when he stopped sputtering and coughing he turned anxious eyes on her.
"Thank you, ma'am." His mouth filled with water when he spoke, and he shot it back out in a little arching stream. His previous expression of apology turned into one of horrified alarm at this latest behavior, and Elise knew he was scared to death of her reaction.
She dipped down to chin level with the water, looked him in the eye, and said, "You're welcome." Then she shot her own stream of water to land neatly in front of his face. She hadn't thought his eyes could have gotten any wider.
Her laughter danced across the water as she hugged him to her. The little arms tightening around her neck confirmed she had allayed Nicholas's fears.
She moved to hoist him back up onto the fallen log but stopped when she saw his little black friend.
The poor little guy had not moved from the bent over position he was in when Elise had fallen. His eyes were bulging, tears dripped from his chin, and his little body shook from head to toe. He was chanting, "Sweet Jesus, I done it now, I done it now."
"Hey! It's okay. No harm done." Elise tried to reassure him, but he seemed to be in a trance. She waved her hands in front of his face a few times but got no reaction at all.
"What's your friend's name?" she asked Nicholas as she raked a handful of dripping hair off her cheeks.
"Cyprian, ma'am."
"Hey, Cyprian!" she shouted, loud enough to get his attention. He finally stopped chanting and focused terror-filled eyes on her.
"I done it, ma'am. I's sorry as I can be, and it be an accident, but I done it." He slowly shook his head back and forth in denial.
Elise stared at the quivering child, then cocked an eyebrow and sliced a sideways look at Nicholas before speaking again.
"Cyprian, give me your hand."
The small, pink-palmed hand stretched across the water to her, still shaking. When her fingers curled around it she cast a devilish smile at him and yanked as she said, "Why don't you join us, Cyprian?"
His expression was priceless as he flew toward her and Nicholas. She held tight to his hand and didn't allow his head to go under.
Nicholas was screaming with laughter, which was cut off sporadically by copious mouthfuls of creek water.
Cyprian's legs churned, and he sputtered, clearly expecting his punishment to be death by drowning. Elise grabbed him under both arms and pulled him right in front of her.
"Cyprian, listen to me. You're not in any trouble. I'm not angr
y, okay? It was all an accident, and you're not going to be punished."
He looked at her with skepticism, but the shaking lessened. Nicholas removed any remaining doubt of his forgiveness by directing a stream of water to the center of Cyprian's forehead.
The brown eyes lit with delight and relief, and a spirited spewing contest ensued between the boys.
Elise released her hold on them after moving to shallower water. She grabbed up two handfuls of clinging fabric from her gown and dragged herself up onto shore.
The boys frolicked in the water while she tried to wring out her skirts on the creek bank. They arrived in a tangle of brown and white limbs to join her. She sat fanning her skirts around her when the boys approached in a tumble. Nicholas dropped to the grass beside her but Cyprian remained standing.
"I know who you are. You're Miss Gerard, Mr. Blackwell's guest."
Nicholas surprised Elise by knowing who she was. The mention of Reed brought back that sharp pain in her heart.
"Thank you, again, Miss Gerard. I'm terribly sorry we got you wet and ruined your frock."
"I think it would be all right if you call me Miss Elise. And don't worry about me. I won't melt, and this old dress will dry. So what were you boys so upset about earlier?"
She looked up at Cyprian and patted the ground on the other side of her. Cyprian looked behind him, as if expecting to see someone else standing there, then looked back at Elise with a confused glance. She reached out and pulled him down beside her, then scrunched both boys up in a tight cuddle. His little body stiffened beneath her arm, but it didn't take long before he started to relax.
"Okay, you're doomed to sit here all cuddled up and mushy with this old lady until you tell me what your problem is."
The boys gave a token resistance, which only created squishing noises from all the wet clothing. That turned into embarrassed giggles, but after several minutes Nicholas became serious.
