Evil's Niece (13 page)

‘Absolutely not. I’m going upstairs, and I don’t want to be disturbed.’

My maid cocked her head, looking like a cocker spaniel whose ears had been hiked up into a white lace ribbon. ‘Surely Miss Delacroix wasn’t
that
rude, that you —’

‘Forget it, Monique.’ To drive my point home, I opened the table’s centre drawer and fished out the object I’d hidden behind my handkerchiefs and calling cards. ‘Chapin presented me with this before I left. He said I should talk to you about leaving your personal effects where others might stumble over them, but he knows damn well it’s mine.’

The sight of the dildo, shaped like her beloved T-Jon’s cock, made the maid giggle impishly and grab it out of my hand.

‘This is good,
oui
?’ she exclaimed, wagging the black-and-red leather cock at me. ‘Now Chapin not only knows his little wife is not so naive — but he wonders what she
does
with this dildo while he’s gone. His curiosity’s piqued, like his cock, and he —’

‘Monique, did you take this from my drawer and put it outside the service entrance this morning?’

Her eyes snapped black and brown and she turned towards the stairway, gesturing with the dildo for me to follow her. ‘You’ll never find out, if you don’t go along with my plan, Aunt Evil. Hurry now! We have a rendezvous with a handsome man — or two. For lunch.’

‘The Beau Monde Club? You know damn well they’ll never let us in there!’

‘Have I ever led you astray,
ma tante
?’

‘Don’t get me started on
that
.’ Once again I tried to separate myself from another cockamamie scheme my maid had cooked up, betting she’d eavesdropped on my conversation with Chapin and knew where he’d be in about an hour. ‘What on earth does this have to do with my dildo? Or with — with sucking Dewel’s cock last night?’

Even as I said these words, in the privacy of my own bedroom, they shocked me. That I had sunk so far below socially acceptable vocabulary and activities — in only a few days — attested to the mental state Monique Picabou had created so effortlessly. That I was watching her slip into trousers and a white shirt she’d snatched from Chapin’s closet further proved this young woman was nothing but trouble.

Consider the source
, my thoughts warned, and this brought Dewel Proffit’s lewd suggestions to mind…how he’d coaxed me to take his thick shaft into my mouth and then
swallow
after he climaxed! Only a desperate woman would fall so far so fast.

And so I was. Desperate for male affection; for words and gestures to assure me Eve Proffit was a desirable woman, worthy of love and the passion that seemed to be passing her by. Was that too much for a woman of thirty to ask? To have a man hold me, and kiss me, and make love to me as though he enjoyed it so much he lost control?

Monique’s chuckle brought me out of my musings. ‘You’re much happier with Dewel than with his brother,
non
?’ she observed in her forthright way. ‘But you’re trying to be the faithful, loving wife, and I admire that. So, will you follow my plan, Auntie Evil? Or sit home worrying that your man will ask where you got your sex toy?’

‘What are you suggesting?’ I asked doubtfully. She had something outrageous in mind, for the wily maid had pulled her hair into a tail at her nape and then tucked it down the back of the loose shirt.

She looked for all the world like a boy.

‘We’ll dress you like this too — skirts are too awkward for slipping you under Mr Chapin’s table,’ she explained. ‘I’ll convince the waiter his tip will be much better if
I
serve today. We’ll hide you when no one’s looking, and
voila
. You’ll have all those flies to choose from. All those fine, upstanding men who must sit still while you suck them, as though nothing’s happening, while they talk politics over lunch! Too funny,
oui
?’

How could I not grin at this scenario? It would be the ultimate coup, to breach that all-male world of the venerable Beau Monde Club. To make Chapin and his campaign committee squirm in their chairs, trying not to grunt and grimace as they climaxed.

‘But what if somebody looks under the table? Or kicks me, and my scream gives me away?’ Eyeing Chapin’s clothing on my bed, I couldn’t believe I would even consider this. It was as though a gremlin had gotten inside me…daring me to do what the proper Mrs Proffit would consider repugnant and unthinkable.

But Auntie Evil would lap it up. What a lark — to suck my husband in public. To make him squirm in front of men who’ve invested thousands in his political campaign!

‘Nobody’ll kick you,
cherie
,’ she said, gesticulating in her exasperation. ‘You remember how T-Jon loved to be sucked? How Dewel said only special women do that, and do it well? Your big chance comes in about an hour — but only if we stop wishy-washing around here!’

I reached for the trousers she’d laid on my bed, and then drew back. ‘But if I’m under the table, and Chapin can’t look, how will he know it’s me? What will I prove?’

‘Must I think of
everything
?’ she wailed, and then she grabbed the buttons of my suit. ‘Find a way to bring it up, when you talk to him tonight. You do talk to him,
non
?’

I closed my eyes against memories of our recent conversations, for I could already imagine Chapin’s reactions when he learned that the hot, willing lips under the table belonged to his own wife. ‘But then he’ll realise everyone else was wiggling around —’

‘So you can tell him Mistress Monique was under there too. I swear, Auntie,’ she rasped, tossing aside my green jacket and then tugging my blouse from my skirt. ‘We’ll make something up,
oui
? For a woman so smart, you’ve got no brains at all!’

I should have slapped her. I should have ordered her out of my room to oversee whatever our new maids were doing. I should have shut away the mental images of well-dressed men around a table, eating some of the city’s finest cuisine while throwing fortunes towards their golden boy, trying not to cry out when they came.

But I couldn’t get it out of my mind, that
power
I would have, over Chapin and whichever helpless men I coaxed to a climax they couldn’t show.

We were on our way out the pantry door fifteen minutes later, with Chapin’s derbies perched on our heads and his frock coats buttoned over our trousers. Why was I not surprised that Tommy Jon awaited us with a carriage? As he drove us into town, he gave suggestions for passing ourselves off as men once we entered the club.

‘Walk slower. Take bigger steps, and don’t swing your hips,’ he instructed. ‘Just nod when the other men address you, so talking won’t get you into trouble, and walk directly back to the dining area. If you act like you belong there — a privileged member of long standing — nobody’ll question you.’

‘That’s how it goes with most things,
oui
?’ Monique chimed in. She was straightening her clothes and, when we drove along a street where no one else was watching, she smoothed my shirt and coat. ‘Pretend you know what you’re doing, and most people will believe it! After all, you’ve been actress enough all these years that Chapin assumes you’re happy,
non
?’

The sad truth of that statement dampened my spirits, but by then we were passing the whitewashed brick building that housed the Beau Monde Club. Tommy Jon parked around the block, and then the three of us strolled like the elegantly-attired gents we were to the front door. As he reached for the heavy brass knocker, I thought of another stumbling block.

‘How will we get past the doorman? Chapin has mentioned old Iverson as one of the stodgiest —’

The raven-haired Tommy gave me his most debonair smile, gripping his lapels like he had a hold of the world. ‘I’ve been here once, as a guest, Miss Eve,’ he whispered. ‘I left T-Jon back in the bayou, so Monsieur Beaumont can do the talking. Just follow Monique’s lead, and —’

The maroon double doors swung open with a majestic swoosh, to present a wizened old fellow in a tuxedo. He bowed low, to camouflage how closely he was looking us over. ‘And how might I help you?’ he prompted in a stately voice.

‘I’ve travelled the world, Iverson, but there’s only one Beau Monde Club,’ our escort replied with a bow of his own.

Iverson stepped aside, smiling. ‘Forgive me, sir, but I can’t recall your name.’

‘Thomas Beaumont,’ T-Jon replied with a flourish of his card and a polished French accent. ‘My business abroad has kept me from visiting of late. I understand Chapin Proffit will dine here today, and my friends and I wish to contribute to his campaign.’

‘He’s not yet arrived, sir, but I’ll inform him —’

‘Oh, I love a surprise,’ the devious Tommy said with a wink, and he pressed folded money into the doorman’s palm. ‘We’ll proceed to the dining room — if someone would kindly point out the proper table — and greet him when he gets here.’

Just that easily, we were in! We strolled across the marble floor of the vestibule with our footsteps echoing, as though we toured a grand museum. I tried not to gawk at the high-ceilinged elegance which ensconced the members of this elite organisation. The Beau Monde Club was truly a retreat from the outside world, and its groupings of leather chairs and small tables graced with Tiffany reading lamps encouraged perusal of newspapers from all over the world, or subdued conversations over brandy. Men who were engaged in such things nodded at us, as though we had every right to be there. Others sat in a haze of fine-smelling pipe smoke and silence, poring over chess boards.

As we approached the dining room, where aproned waiters put final touches on their linen-draped tables before the noonday meal, T-Jon distracted the maître de with Continental chitchat. Monique and I merely nodded and passed on to the coat rack, in a back hallway where the toilets were. My maid placed our hats on a table, watching for her lover’s signal as he questioned the head waiter.

‘It’s that little room off to the side,’ she whispered, carefully noting that no one else was around. ‘Let’s go now, before anyone notices us.’

Heart pounding, I followed her at what I hoped was a nonchalant gait, feeling sure things had gone far too well and that we’d be interrogated, or seen entering on the sly. As we passed through the door, Monique gave T-Jon a little nod — and then she whisked me under the table so fast I nearly took the floor-length table cloth with me.

‘I thought you were —’

‘Too risky, playing server where the waiters have been here forever,’ she replied in a breathless whisper. ‘Now that we’re in position, T-Jon will find a back door out, so Chapin won’t spot him. It’s up to us — up to
you
,’ she added, grinning in the dimness. ‘There’s no way out. You’ve got to get it right, Aunt Evil!’

How had I been talked into this? As my eyes adjusted to the shadows under the table, my pulse thundered in my ears. What if we got caught? What if someone peeked beneath the linens, and saw a young man between his knees?

My husband would be
furious
. No doubt in my mind I wouldn’t be leaving the house for
days
if I failed at this, and I didn’t dare imagine the price I’d pay for humiliating Chapin in front of his most important supporters. I tried desperately to think of a way out of this brazen escapade, but the sound of male voices told me it was already too late.

Monique bussed my cheek and flashed me a thumbs-up. ‘What other woman would go to such extremes, to prove how badly she wants her man? How much she loves him,
non
?’ she whispered.

This thought would have to sustain me, for as conversations came through the door and chairs were pulled back, my fate as Chapin Proffit’s wife was about to be defined by male legs, in boots and trousers.

‘So pleased to hear of your support, Senator Searcy!’ came a honeyed voice. ‘Here, please sit by me so I can become better acquainted with your ideas.’

I swallowed hard: that was Chapin speaking. He would be at the head of the table, so I pointed myself in that direction — yet the ornately tooled boots and pinstriped trousers positioning themselves on the seat did not belong to my husband. Monique grinned, waited for the man to settle, and then ran a teasing finger around his kneecap.

A large hand reached beneath the cloth to clamp hers, and I thought we were already goners. But when she kissed his knuckles, he stroked her face.

Dewel! I had assumed he’d be anywhere but here, yet the appearance of Proffit solidarity would be in both brothers’ interests. And now that the bastard heir realised a little game was going on beneath the table, things might get interesting indeed! As the rest of the gentlemen took their seats, I noted a slender set of legs clad in houndstooth at the opposite end, where my husband would preside over this gathering of eight esteemed guests. Guests who were about to receive more than they bargained for, as they pledged their support.

‘Gentlemen!’ Chapin called out cheerfully. ‘I am inspired yet humbled by the enthusiasm of New Orleans’s finest, most successful families and businesses, represented here. Today’s meeting will clarify our party’s goals and platforms, which, as your next mayor, I vow to execute with all the integrity and honour of the Proffit name. For generations my family has helped plot the course of this great city, and I challenge you to join me in this highest of causes, to ensure continued success and prosperity for us all!’

‘Hear, hear!’ someone chimed in, and glasses clinked above us.

‘Time to start on our own high causes,
non
?’ my companion murmured. Her eyes sparkled in the shadows, as she pointed to the set of legs on Chapin’s left. ‘Only fitting to serve a senator first.’

I held my breath as the slender young woman crawled to the overfed calves clad in conservative charcoal trousers, which bulged at thighs that disappeared into the drape of the tablecloth. Monique placed her hands gently on those knees and held them, waiting for the shiver of surprise to ebb. Then she ran a single finger up the inside of each plump leg.

‘I commend your choice of meeting places,’ came a sonorous voice, as the clatter of china announced soup bowls being set on serving plates. ‘I’ve always heard the service here at the Beau Monde is the finest, and this…delicious-smelling bisque is only the beginning of a delightful dining experience, I’m sure!’

As the senator patted his napkin over his lap, he spread his legs — and damned if he didn’t unfasten his fly! Monique wasted no time fishing out his thick, stubby member, which was rising rapidly between her hands.

Chapin chuckled. ‘We can count on the staff’s discretion too. It’s important that nothing enacted today gets beyond this room, of course.’

Of course
, my thoughts echoed. I prayed this would hold true for my own brazen activities, as I watched my maid take the senator’s erection into her mouth.

‘Oh…oh, my lordy-lord,’ Searcy groaned, shifting to allow her better access. ‘I can see myself coming here, very soon and often, if this…wine is any indication of the club’s other…refinements.’

I nearly choked on my laughter, aware I was watching an expert at her work — and that I should first practise on someone other than my husband. As the senator’s knees began to quiver around Monique’s shoulders, I slithered to the opposite end of the table.

Dewel’s legs stretched before me, long and muscled and — well, they were the most impressive limbs under that table, possessing the quiet power of an animal that could pounce without warning. The tablecloth had ridden up to his belt — or had he put it there in anticipation of Monique’s mouth?