by L. C. Son
Gasps are all I have to give as I heave pools of air at DeLuca’s words. Everything in me says be happy for Chalmette, but I’ll need to talk to her first and see if this is what she wants.
“I need to see her. Now!” I belt out my frustration, pushing past DeLuca to make my way inside.
With DeLuca following close behind, I race to the back of the galley kitchen where I find Monroe, Mother, and Chalmette on one side of the kitchen and Claudius and Corbin on the other. Chalmette’s tearful face is reddened, and her sadness grips the core of my heart as soon as I see her when the doors swing open.
Just as I thought, she doesn’t want this.
“Chalmette, it’s quite all right. You don’t have to marry Claudius or anyone if it is not your desire!”
“Quiet, girl!” Monroe’s admonishment is sharp but if it weren’t for DeLuca pulling my wrist from behind, I know I would’ve pounced him.
“I will not be quieted! Chalmette deserves someone to speak for her. I’ve been quiet long enough!” I contend.
“Oh, please, Chartreuse! You’ve done no such thing,” Mother gripes. Her posture is tense, but I sense a hint of indecision in her eyes that makes me wonder what happened before I came into the kitchen.
“Miss, please know I only have the most honorable of intentions for your sister,” Claudius begins, his round face blushing red as his glassy blue eyes plead his case to me. DeLuca’s grip lessens at my wrist as I contemplate the obvious sincerity of his tone. I was young when Victoria left us and had no thought of discerning her betrothed’s intent. This time is different. Watching him now, my gut tells me his intentions are pure.
Perhaps he does care for her.
“Your intentions mean nothing, I’m afraid,” Monroe begins, clearing his raspy throat as he leans against the cool brick oven. Sucking his teeth and casting a glance of warning to both my mother and sister he assumes his bullying stance. Chalmette tearfully turns away, holding herself at the waist. “But the girl has a responsibility to her family first. After she fulfills her—um—duties of the house, she may be permitted to marry should you not find a more suitable dame.”
“Oh just forget it! All of you!” Chalmette protests, storming out the back door of the kitchen and into the alleyway.
“Don’t worry, poppet, I’ll get her,” DeLuca whispers in my ear from behind me and rushes through the main hall toward Chalmette.
“Then there shall be no such arrangement! Come now, Claudius! We will have no further dealings with these people!” Corbin seethes, as he shoves his son’s shoulder, looping their arms together as they head toward me and out of the kitchen.
“Wait! Please, Mr. DeVeaux, don’t go,” I say, quickly stepping in front of him and Claudius, preventing their exit. I am not surprised when his eyes lock to the helm of my cleavage. A normal courtesy of men who come close to me—well, except DeLuca. Still, his glance remains brief as his eyes search mine. I can tell a man of his stature doesn’t suit well around our kind for long, but I cannot let him leave just yet. At least not until I fully understand what is happening.
“I am sorry, Miss, but we must be going before someone sees us here. I am sure you can understand,” Corbin adds with a strong but warm smile. Looking over his shoulder I see Claudius has an equally warm demeanor, but I also see his brokenness. He seems genuinely disappointed.
“I do understand, sir. But please answer me this, Claudius—do you love Chalmette?”
Claudius’ eyes brighten and his youthful face almost glows as he wipes his copper coils from his brow. “Yes,” he whispers in a shy smile. “I have always loved her and I’m most certain I shall always.”
As his sheepish gaze locks with mine, I now understand my sister’s tears. She does care for him.
“I’m afraid none of that matters, my boy. If these people insist she must go on with their business tonight, then I must forbid it. If the girl is sullied by port filled paupers, she is of no use to you! I am sorry, the hour draws late, and we must be on our way!” Corbin shouts as he loops his arm through his son’s as they hurry through the galley doors.
“But—” I scream after them.
“Let them go!” Monroe yells, grabbing my shoulder with his hard calloused hands from behind me.
Turning to meet Monroe’s scowl I peer over his shoulder surprised to see Mother with her face to the ceiling, batting her eyes as if she were trying to contain her tears.
“Look girl, I’ll not have you hindering family business!”
“Family?” I sneer at Monroe’s words. Thinking of him as family sickens me.
“Yes, and I suggest you not forget who keeps the roof over your head, girl,” Monroe continues, perching his thick forearm over my head, resting himself against the doorframe. His putrid musty scent laced in rum makes me nauseous and it takes everything in me not to vomit in his face. “Now why don’t you be a good girl, go out get little Mette and teach her a few tricks of the—um, trade, if you will. If I recall, she can learn a lot from you.” Whispering his latter sentiment in my ear as he brushes past me as he walks through the double galley doors, it takes everything in me not to rip the pocketknife from my boot and plunge it in his neck.
At his departure, Mother and I are left alone in the galley. Gone is the hint of sorrow I saw as Claudius shared his affection for Chalmette. Once more, I’m left with the stoic, ice-veined woman I’ve come to know and loathe over the last two decades. While I am not sure how it is possible, I most assuredly detest her more than her lover.
Standing with her hands cupped at her waist, her narrowed eyes and stone-slicing glare assure me there is nothing parental left for her to give. And with Monroe’s sickening advances against me, I believe she sees me as a rival. Oh how I wish she knew there was no contest. I want nothing from Monroe—or her!
“I will see to Chalmette,” I begin, charging toward the back exit as it becomes evident there are no words left between us.
As I pass her, she cups my elbow, turning me to meet her icy stare. “You do that. Just make sure she is ready. We already had enough interest in her since the postings went out. Some are willing to take second rounds after the first. Teach her what you must because after tonight I doubt that doughy boy’s father will let him within inches of her. So you be sure to tame her. I’ll not have another uncouth and untamed daughter under this roof!” Mother snaps her closing words and every vile of venom she meant for me pierced my pores as she spoke.
“Have no worries, Catherine, dear. I will see to my sister. I always have!”
Chapter Three
Rushing out of the back exit, tears trail my face once more. Thoughts of running away with Chalmette fill my mind, but with talks of war brewing about and no place to go, I can think of no other options.
Chalmette must endure tonight.
But I will teach her. Not the tricks of the trade as Monroe’s perversion suggested, but my tricks. The ways I guard my mind. The haunting melodies I hum to dissuade me from ending my own existence. The magical memories of old. Whatever it takes, I’ll ensure she not succumb to the scythe seeking to separate her soul from her heart.
I do not wish for my fate to be her own.
“Chartreuse!” Bumping into Scotty’s broad frame as I pace downstairs startles me and comforts me all at once. Wrapping his large muscular arms around me, I push my face into the cavity of his chest and cry. Thankfully, Scotty is no novice to my tears. On more nights than I care to recount, has Scotty held me while the rhythmic cadence of his heart serenaded me to slumber. “I’m here, I’m here,” he says softly in my ear.
As much as I want to linger in the warmth of his gargantuan embrace, my sister is my only concern and I need to find her. Pulling away from him, I wipe my face and gaze up and down the back street.
“No worries, love,” Scotty begins. “No one is out here. Just us.” His tender gaze and caring smile warm my heart. Scotty knows I never let anyone see me cry since that night. Only him. N
ot even my dear DeLuca is privy to my tears. Just Scotty. Being a man of few words, I know I can trust him.
The night I met Scotty he was waiting outside my door when some welp got too handsy and started punching me because I refused fellatio. I think Scotty was actually waiting to be serviced by one of the other house girls when he heard the ruckus. Coming to my rescue, he knocked the drunkard out cold and tended my wounds.
Since then Scotty has become my big, burly bear of a protector.
A man of few words, struggling with his own issues, Scotty has endeavored to care for me over the years. Even in our arrangement, he never asks for more than I can give—although I am certain I give quite a bit. On rough nights, he often shakes his head, letting me know he will only hold me and nothing more is required. Often, he just sits in my parlor chair at the window quietly so that I can sleep.
With the power of his presence and the strength of his embrace, my dear Scotty has a way of quieting my storm.
“Thank you, Scotty. I am sorry I ran into you like this, but I was only looking for Chalmette and DeLuca,” I say quietly.
“Yes, I know. That is why I am here,” he mutters, still searching my face. His eyes fall slightly as one lone tear escapes to my cheekbone, and he trails his thumb along the surface of my skin, catching my tear. Holding my face in his large palm, everything in me wants to rest in the warmth of his hold, but I cannot.
“Do you know where they are?” I answer, pulling myself from his grasp.
“Yes, DeLuca took her upstairs when he heard Monroe looking for her. We should get you upstairs.” At his words, Scotty wraps my arm through his hulking bicep, leading me back inside the tavern.
As we make our way through the tavern, I notice we have more patrons than normal. I am certain the bidding postings for the prize of Chalmette’s virginity have made their way around town. The saloon hall is filled with both grisly natured and wealthy status men alike.
I snatch one of the postings from a drunkard on my way in and I see the bidding rate is higher than any other auction Monroe has solicited. It is clear he intends to wipe away most of his debts with the fares he’ll receive tonight. And with all attentions turned to the growing conflicts with the British, Monroe needn’t worry about vagrancy laws ensuing against his bawdy house.
Reaching Chalmette’s suite, DeLuca is perched outside her door and I see Corine and Elena holding up an array of colorful fabrics to my despondent sister. Before I can rush inside, DeLuca steps in front of the door with his hands raised in caution.
“What is it, DeLuca? I need to get to Chalmette. We don’t have much time.”
“I know and I am sorry. I feel responsible for getting her hopes up. I had hoped knowing the young lad’s intentions would be enough,” DeLuca answers with regret.
“It is not your fault, DeLuca and I appreciate you for trying, but I must see to her now.”
“I understand. But I wanted to offer at least one final gesture. That is if you and Scotty are comfortable with a change to your normal arrangement.” DeLuca’s words hang between the three of us and I see an unusual bit of tension shift in Scotty’s posture.
“I—I didn’t get to ask her yet,” Scotty replies with his head buried to his chin.
“Ask me what?” I snap. I need to get to Chalmette. Looking over DeLuca’s broad shoulder’s I see Elena holstering cloth reminiscent of the sun and my frustration grows. I’ll not have my sister adorning attire so loud on her first night.
“Well,” DeLuca begins, stepping in front of my view of Chalmette and regaining my attention. “I have asked Scotty to serve at Chalmette’s door tonight. I shall serve yours.”
“What? Absolutely not!” My protest is so loud, Scotty cups his large hand around my mouth. Looking over the balcony inside the saloon I see onlookers glaring up at us and I realize I am bringing unnecessary attention upstairs. It is one thing to have Scotty outside my door but the thought of DeLuca having a side seat to my night hour soils me with fear. I don’t want him privy to that side of me. Although he knows who and what I am, I’d rather he not endure all it entails as my man-in-waiting.
“Listen, Red, I don’t quite fancy it either, but what choice do you have. Scotty is far better equipped than I to handle some scallywag should his advances go beyond his reach. He can do more for your sister than I can.”
“Sure, so then how do you expect to guard me if you can’t even take watch of my sister?”
“Quite frankly, poppet, the difference is that unlike your sister you can certainly protect yourself. I’d serve as nothing but a mere watchman. Chalmette on the other hand—”
“Okay, I understand,” I begin softly, pondering my dear friend’s words. “Scotty, would you please take watch at Chalmette’s door, please?”
“If that is what you want, lovely. You know I am at your service. Always and however you require me to serve,” Scotty answers with his head bowed, resting his square jaw on my forehead.
“Good! Then we have an accord!” DeLuca blurts his words quickly, stalling my temptation to surrender to Scotty’s hold once more.
“Not quite,” I say looking over my shoulder and down the hall. “Marius!” I shout as I spy his lanky frame wander from the dark corner of the hall where he normally spends his evenings reading the post and sipping coffee. Dressed in his tan trousers, matching jacket, and ruffled collared blouse he makes his way to us in a few long strides.
“Yes, Madame Chartreuse,” Marius replies with his typical demure and ready-to-serve tone.
“What are you doing, Treuse? I said I’d keep post for you tonight.”
“No, you most certainly will not. I appreciate you, dear friend, but this world is not yours. It is mine. And for what it is worth it is also the world in which the three of us—Scotty, Marius, and I reside. I will not allow you to make the troubles and torment of my world your own. Now, please go. Marius will see to my door tonight.”
DeLuca’s usually olive-skin pales at my sentiment and his eyes stare back at me in awe. Although I hardly understand why I am turning him away myself, I know it is what I must do.
“Treuse, I must insist!” DeLuca’s pleading words do nothing but cement my own further.
“No, DeLuca!” I yell back. I know I must be firm. If he senses even a hint of indecision, he will call me on my folly. “Now please go! Scotty, you know what to do—as do you Marius.”
“Yes madame,” both Marius and Scotty reply in unison.
DeLuca’s eyes grow wide in both disbelief and anger. He is the last person I wish to hurt, but I know it is for the best.
At least I have to believe it to be so.
Placing my hand on his shoulder, I slide past him and enter Chalmette’s room.
“Leave us.” My announcement is more a demand than a mere statement and both Corine and Elena understand it as so. Dropping their fabrics in the chaise chair at the edge of Chalmette’s bed, both women exit promptly with their heads lowered as I step aside allowing their departure. As they do, I turn to see DeLuca still standing on the other side of the door, his face still riddled with frustration. While it takes everything in me not to do so, I close the door with his pleading eyes glaring at me, but I know I must tend to my sister.
Neither his feelings nor my care for him matter in this moment.
“Well, sister, do tell me—what should I wear for my first night?” Chalmette has accepted her fate and the sight of her squared shoulders and raised chin should frighten me, but I am not afraid. Feelings of something that resembles pride swell within me. Still, it is too soon to be proud. I need to know she can go through with this.
All of it.
“Before we discuss attire, dear sister, we must discuss the particulars.”
“Particulars?”
“Yes, my dear. The Particulars.”
“Ah, yes, Mother came by earlier stating something of me needing to be tamed to this life. I suppose I should. Especially since any thoughts I h
ad of being with Claudius are now forfeit.”
“Speaking of Claudius—why didn’t you tell me of your affection for him? I could have been of help!”
“It matters not, Chartreuse. My affections, as it were, are rubbish. Besides, you cannot protect me from everything. Not even tonight. Now, please, help me select a garment.”
Chalmette holds three garments from Corinne’s wardrobe, and I shake my head. “No, we are not doing this!” I protest. “Scotty!” I shout his name knowing there’s no way he’s moved much farther from Chalmette’s door.
Sheepishly peering his head in between the cracked door, he looks at me slightly confused. “Yes?” he answers hesitantly.
“Dear, can you please grab my French tulle and georgette gown?”
“The blue one or the newest one from Tabitha?”
Chalmette’s mouth falls open as she realizes I am about to adorn her in my newest fabrics from France.
“No, Treuse! I couldn’t!” She pleas to me.
“You shall,” I answer definitively. “Yes, Scotty, the newest one. Thank you.” Scotty acquiesces with his eyes only and makes his way down the hall. As he does, I quickly peer through the crack to see if DeLuca is still standing by, but I don’t see him. I only see Marius, leaned against the wall reading his post. My heart aches knowing I have hurt my dear friend, but I hope in time he will come to understand.
Thankfully, Scotty doesn’t give me long to ponder my pain as he makes his way back to Chalmette’s suite with the fabrics in tow. Only waving them through the door, he quickly closes the door once I take them from his hand.
“Sister! You spent a fortune on these fabrics! There’s no way I can take them from you!” Although pleading, my young sister’s dancing eyes alone tell me she fancies the idea of wearing my pretty fittings. And with her lovely figure, I have no doubt she will be the envy of the evening.
“They are yours, my sister. As it always shall be between us—whatever I have is yours. Never forget that!”
“As with I, Chartreuse, all that I have—”
