Creole Fires (39 page)

But not so much that I can give up my honor. Not so much I will disgrace my family name.

Nicki rolled onto her stomach and cried into the pillow. How could she tell him she loved him, when knowing the truth would insure his hold on her forever?

Then again, how could she remain silent, allow him to believe she had merely responded to him in passion? To be convinced through the years there was no such thing as love.

Nicki’s body shook with her sobs, and the pillow grew wet with her tears. It was all she could do not to go to him, to seek his comfort and give him hers in return.

But she did not go. Instead she whispered his name into the darkness and clutched the pillow instead of his powerful chest. Once in the night, she got as far as the heavy wooden door and even lifted the latch. Then her thoughts turned to Clarissa and the bastard children Alex’s marriage would force Nicole to bear.

I love you
, she said again, and wished she had admitted the truth to Alex before it was too late.

A pounding at the door in the middle of the night awoke him. Alex slipped from the bed, pulled on his burgundy velvet robe, and opened the door to find Ram standing in the hallway, his eyes red-rimmed with worry, his mouth grim and lined by fatigue.

“It’s all right, Ram. Nicki’s here and she’s unharmed.”

“May Allah be praised,” the big Turk said, though
he was not of that faith. He slumped against the door in relief.

“I sent word. You were probably already gone.”

“Whatever those women gave me took hours to wear off. When I finally woke up, I looked everywhere. I threatened to slit Danielle’s throat, but still she would tell me nothing.” He smiled at that. “Nicole is lucky to have such a friend.”

“If Danielle had been as closemouthed with her fiancé, Fortier wouldn’t have taken Nicki in the first place.”

“Fortier?”

Alex nodded and motioned him inside. “How about a brandy?”

“Yes, thank you. I could use it.” The men moved into the bedchamber, and Ram sank down heavily in one of the tapestry chairs in front of a fire that had burned to coals. Alex handed him a glass of brandy, poured one for himself from the crystal decanter on the marble-topped dresser, and took the opposite chair.

Ram tossed a log into the fire and stoked the coals into flames. “I feel as if I’ve failed you.”

Alex waved away his words. “Nonsense. If anyone’s to blame, it’s me. I should have told her the truth about Fortier. I should have told her she would have to stay with me until after the marriage—and I should have stayed out of her bed.”

The big Turk grunted. “You know what they say about hindsight ….”

Alex nodded wearily.

“What will you do about Bouteiller?” Ram asked.

“You know him?”

“He came several times to visit Danielle.”

Alex shook his head. “I don’t think he meant any harm. Besides, if he hadn’t come to Belle Chêne, I wouldn’t have known Valcour had taken Nicole. René risked a great deal, and I sure as hell can’t send him back—God knows what Fortier would do to him.”

“Sometimes those who are shown forgiveness become one’s most loyal subjects.”

Alex agreed. “Nicki believes everyone deserves a second chance. Tomorrow I’ll give René his.”

“And Danielle?”

“If she’s as loyal to Nicole as you say, there is no one I would rather have near her.” For the first time that night, Alex smiled. “I should like to be a fly on the wall when Danielle discovers her fiancé has been carrying tales to Fortier.”

The big Turk laughed aloud. “Yes. I believe it is only fair his punishment be left to her.”

After finishing their brandies. Ram headed for a room down the hall and Alex returned to his bed. His loss of blood had helped him sleep earlier; now it wouldn’t be so easy.

He was too close to Nicole, too near the door that led to her chamber, to the bed where she lay sleeping. He loved to watch her, had done so often, though she never knew. She looked so sweet and innocent without her defenses. What would it have been like to have taken her to wife? To have her beside him, working to build a future together? With her desire to help others and love of Belle Chêne, how much might they have accomplished?

Alex clenched his fist, his chest suddenly taut. It did no good to ponder such things. The path ahead had been laid out—and it did not include Nicole.

He thought of her in her room down the hall. Just the memory of her soft, sweet body molded against him sent a rush of blood to his loins.

Alex stared up at the canopy above his head. As much as he wanted her, he wouldn’t take her. It was a vow he had made before he ever reached Feliciana. If God would protect her until he could get there, he would leave her be.

Besides, by running away from him again, she had made her feelings clear in a way her words could not. What she felt for him was little more than passion. Not enough to bind her to him. Not enough to keep her by his side.

Alex closed his eyes and tried to conjure sleep. He needed his rest, needed all the strength he could garner to return Nicki to his town house and leave her without so much as a farewell kiss.

He could do it—of that Alexandre had no doubt. He was a man who did what he set out to do. Still, saying good-bye to Nicole St. Claire would be the hardest thing he had ever done.

Alex leaned against the rail of the
Memphis Lady
, watching the passing shoreline. Beside him, Nicole clutched the folds of her borrowed cloak over one of the servants’ dark wool dresses. Her face looked pale and there were smudges beneath her eyes. The wind whipped strands of her shiny copper hair.

“Alex?” At the sound of her voice, soft and a little uncertain, Alex turned to face her. “I know how angry you are.”

“Why should I be angry?” Try as he might, he couldn’t keep the sarcasm from his voice. He had played the fool for her too long—he would not do it
again. “You are a woman alone, being forced to stay with a man you obviously care little about. Were I in your position, I would do exactly as you have. I would do everything in my power to leave.”

She reached toward him, but he moved away. He didn’t want her nearness, didn’t want the temptation her gentle touch would bring.

The distant shoreline passed by, tiny wooden shanties lining the bank where Negro children played beside their mothers. Dark-skinned men swung cane knives into towering, dark-green thickets as the sugar harvest progressed.

“Fortier said Feliciana was in love with you,” Nicki said softly. “Is that true?”

Alex swung his glance in her direction. “No. We rarely saw each other before she and Valcour were married.” Recalling Valcour’s state of mind, he shook his head. “Our so-called love affair grew from his jealous fantasies.”

Nicki didn’t seem surprised. “What did he mean about my coming to him if you fail?”

It was the question Alex had been dreading. “I had hoped you wouldn’t find out. I didn’t want you to worry.” Her eyes searched his face, bright aqua pools that made him want to hold her and soothe away her fears.

“Please tell me.”

Alex released a weary breath and raked a hand through his wavy, dark-brown hair. “When I bought your contract, you became a part of Belle Chêne. Fortier holds a note against the land and all of the personal property.”

“Chattel,” she whispered, and Alex’s heart lurched against his chest.

“Yes.”

“And that includes me.”

“Yes.”

“If you don’t marry Clarissa, you can’t pay the mortgage, and Fortier gets Belle Chêne along with its chattel—including me.”

Alex nodded. “It isn’t going to happen, so you’ve no need to worry. As far as what’s occurred between us, at least now you understand that I couldn’t have let you go even if I’d wanted to. If you leave before the note is paid in full, Fortier has every right to go after you himself. Which, as you’ve so clearly proven, he would most surely do.”

“You should have told me.”

“I didn’t believe it would keep you from leaving. And as I said before, I was fool enough to believe I could make you care enough to stay. I wanted you with me because you wanted to be, not because you were afraid of Fortier.”

“Alex—”

“From now on, the town house will be yours. I’ll stop by on occasion to be certain you’re all right, but I will not expect you to … entertain me … in anything other than polite conversation.”

“Alex, please—”

“Since we’ve still got quite some distance to go, if you’ll excuse me, I believe I’ll go inside and join Ram in a game of chance.” With that he strode away from her, his long legs carrying him away.

Watching his tall, retreating figure, Nicki’s heart beat painfully against her chest. He was such a proud man, so strong and caring. Yet deep inside he was lonely. He had needed her far more than she’d guessed—and she had hurt him deeply.

Nicki’s fingers trembled, and she tightened her hold on the rail. At least now she would be free. Once the note was paid, Alex would let her go. Since he believed she didn’t want him, he had no reason to keep her.

It’s what you’ve wanted from the start
, she told herself firmly.
You’ll be your own person again. Free to live whatever life you choose.

Why did it suddenly seem so unimportant?

Nicki fought the ache that closed her throat and the lie she tried to hold on to. How could she have let this happen? How could she have come to care for him so deeply that her own happiness seemed unimportant? That even the pain their bastard children would suffer seemed to pale beside her need to give him the comfort and shelter he needed?

Please, Papa. Tell me what I’m doing is right. Tell me once more that honor and righteousness are worth this terrible price.
But her father’s comforting words would not come. No image of his gentle face looked down on her. No warm memory blossomed to guide her way.

She glanced down at the frothy black water that rushed beneath them. “Protect him, dear Lord,” she whispered. “Make him happy—and one day let him understand.”

They reached the town house and a worried Danielle saw Nicki and burst into tears.

“Mon Dieu
, what has happened? You should be gone from here. How did he find you—I swear I did not tell.” She glanced fearfully at Alex, who scowled back at her.

“I appreciate your loyalty to your mistress,” he
said, surprising her. “But I believe she may have some disconcerting news about your fiancé. You may discuss it with her in my absence.”

“René has not been injured?”

“No, Danielle,” Nicki said, “René is fine.”

At the sweep of Alex’s hand, the servants filed quietly away, and Alex turned to Nicki. “I trust you will take care of yourself these next few weeks. Once the note has been paid, I’ll see you’re made comfortable anywhere you choose.” His hard look softened, his dark eyes almost a caress.

“Until, then,
ma chère
, know that I shall miss you as I never have another.”

Nicki’s throat constricted. “Have no doubt that I shall miss you as well,” she whispered.

Alex nodded solemnly and turned to leave.

“Alex?”

His hand froze on the knob, but he didn’t look back. Instead, he pulled open the door and stepped out into the courtyard. With measured care, he closed the door behind him.

Three weeks passed, with no sign of Alex. Danielle had railed at René until he had begged her forgiveness, promising her his undying love if she would still have him. He sang Alex’s praise until Nicki had to leave the room, her eyes glistening with tears.

François came to call, looking nearly as despondent as Nicki. “Alexandre is in misery. I have never seen him like this. He’s working eighteen hours a day, trying to bury himself in his duties. Clarissa is furious. She thinks he’s ignoring her—which he is.” François shook his head. “For a while he seemed so happy. I just don’t understand it.” He looked imploringly
at Nicki. “I know how much he cares for you, surely you can speak to him, find out what is wrong.”

“Alex doesn’t come here anymore.”

“What? But why not? I thought—”

“As soon as Alex and Clarissa are married, he’s giving me back my contract. I’ll be leaving. Going to Savannah, I think, or maybe Charleston.”

“But I thought you loved him. You didn’t say so, but I thought for certain—”

“I can’t be his wife, François, and I won’t be his mistress. Even if my beliefs weren’t involved, I couldn’t share him. Surely you of all people can understand.”

François sank down on the sofa. “Yes,” he said, “I believe I do.”

They didn’t speak of Alex again.

November passed with little fanfare, but the hustle in the city increased, a reminder that the Christmas holidays were fast approaching.

Twice she met Michele for luncheon. Though Nicki found it hard to concentrate, and the gaiety of the patrons seemed somehow out of place, she was glad, as always, to see her friend.

“Tell me about Thomas,” Nicki prodded, wanting to hear happy news for a change.

“He has asked me to marry him and I have said yes.”

“Oh, Michele, that’s wonderful!” Reaching across the table, Nicki squeezed her friend’s hand. “Have you set a date?”

“Four months from this Saturday. It seems like forever, but Thomas will return with me to Baton Rouge to ask my father’s permission.” She smiled. “I am not worried. Papa will love him.”

“I’m sure he will, and your mother too.”

“Even my aunt sings his praises.”

“Thomas could charm a beggar out of his shoes.”

Michele laughed at that. “And what about you,” she asked, her green eyes searching. “Alexandre has not returned?”

“No.” Nicki glanced away. “I’ve missed him more than I ever would have guessed.”

“Oh, Nicki. I am so sorry.”

“I’ve been working on his ledgers. I wanted to do something for him before I left. Besides, it helps pass the time …. I’ve gone back through the last ten years, but unfortunately, I need Louis Mouton’s set of books so I can compare the two.”

“Why don’t you send a note to Alexandre? Maybe he would bring them himself.”

“I’ve thought of it. But if I see him again, it’ll only make things harder.”

“Yes, I suppose so. Still, if it were Thomas, I would want to share what time we had left.”