Evil's Niece (21 page)

The climax rolled over me, and rolled me over, as though I’d been caught in the undertow of a tidal wave and then scooped up, to be tossed towards the halcyon shore I’d discovered only today. How many times had I landed there? And how many times would I dare return? By the time we reached the house in town, I’d once again slipped into that boneless state that followed extreme release: I could easily have curled up on the carriage seat and slept the night.

Yet when the tall windows came into view from Prytania, lit by the table lamps, I sensed I’d better have my story ready.

‘What if Chapin’s already home?’ Desperately I rewrapped the black lace, which was redolent with the scent of fresh sex. ‘What if he wonders —’

‘He’s been pursuin’ a new level of power, Eve,’ Dewel replied in his soothing baritone. ‘When Monique realised you were still out — if Chapin returned without you — she gave him some plausible excuse for your absence. She’s creative that way.’

I nipped my lip, praying he was right. Hoping whoever was inside didn’t peer out to see Dewel’s carriage pulling up under the covered entrance. With a quick, nervous kiss I bade him goodnight — but Dewel would have none of that. He placed his hands on either side of my face and pressed his fine, full lips into mine as though he had every right to my passionate farewell.

‘Take care of yourself, sugah — until I can. If he gives you any trouble, you come to me, understand?’

Was that a promise, or a prediction of disaster? I slipped into the house and padded barefoot towards the staircase, hoping to avoid Mrs Frike. Anyone who saw my breasts and hips jiggling beneath the translucent pattern of roses and ivy would know I’d been up to no good.

I reached the bottom stair, thankful that the solid construction of the staircase and its carpet runner would prevent any creaking. But I’d rejoiced too soon.

‘Ah, Miss Eve!’ a courtly voice rang out from the study. ‘A timely arrival, indeed! We need to discuss a matter of utmost importance, regarding the dismissal of your lady’s maid.’

My mouth fell open. Not only had Chapin made it home ahead of me, but he’d caught Monique in some sort of mischief…perhaps cornered her in a lie about my whereabouts. There was no way to escape my duties as mistress of this house; no way to avoid my husband’s censure of an appearance that looked every bit as tawdry as my situation.

When I turned towards the perfectly groomed blond, the black lace fell open around the knee bent on the bottom step, revealing an expanse of bare leg that would’ve done a prostitute proud. My hair was askew from hanging upside down in the carriage, and my embarrassment intensified the musk of Dewel’s most recent teasing. Yet somehow I faced my husband without bursting into tears or prostrating myself to beg forgiveness.

Chapin’s expression hardened. ‘We’ll discuss this later,’ he growled, pivoting to precede me into his study. ‘The goings-on in this house have reached a level not even the most indulgent man would tolerate. Even if I weren’t in the political spotlight, I would nip this inexcusable situation in the bud.’

As I entered the study behind him, Monique’s face registered her relief at my return. But her expression quickly switched to a thin-lipped mask of anger — warning me that things had been said, and my story would have to match hers. Judd Schuck stood smugly by the window, looking like a pinstiped pork barrel as he clasped his hands behind his back. The sissy maids huddled in the opposite corner, near Fanny Frike, wearing expressions that foretold my doom.

Chapin snatched something from his desk. ‘My valet informs me that you and your maid have engaged in things no normal, decent wife would consider, much less know about. What do you say to
that
, Mrs Proffit?’

He nailed me with his gaze as he held up Monique’s double dildo — the toy his dutiful new manservant had snatched from my vanity in my absence.

A few weeks ago, I would’ve melted into the Persian rug from extreme humiliation — but no, I would’ve been dumbfounded by a device resembling two long, hard cocks curving away from a textured red centre. Exasperation overruled my fear, however. Then it was sheer wrath that made my answer strike like a snake.

‘If you already know the details, Mister Proffit, why do you ask?’

I regretted my retort immediately. But there was no right answer for a man who’d discovered his wife had a lady playmate — no matter how he found his evidence.

‘I’m telling you, Mr Proffit,’ Monique cut in, ‘it’s Judd Schuck who needs dismissing! How can you trust a man who watches your wife through her keyhole? Then he sneaked into Miss Eve’s room and took that toy from her vanity drawer. How do we know he didn’t also steal her jewellery?’

Chapin’s colour rose with each remark. ‘Enough out of you, slut! My wife never had such —
ideas
, until you came here!’ he blustered. ‘I knew you were one of those damned Cajuns living downriver from Dewel’s plantation, and I should’ve sent you packing long ago. Now get
out
.’

Silence rang around us, until the old housekeeper could keep still no longer. ‘Will you
please
reconsider, Mr Chapin?’ Fanny pleaded. ‘Your Mr Schuck has compromised his own integrity — not to mention your wife’s. And with the Mardi Gras ball only a week away, I need Monique’s help with the preparations. She’s been invaluable —’

‘She’s been the downfall of this entire household if she’s bamboozled you too,’ he snapped, shaking the double-hung toy at her. ‘And from here on out, you’ll keep your opinions to yourself, Fanny Frike, or those three worthless maids will be the next to go! And maybe
you
will be considering retirement sooner than you anticipated.’

Cleopatra, Antoinette and Cinderella stiffened, glancing at each other with their lips pressed into thin lines. Mrs Frike’s shelflike bosom shook against her apron with her effort to remain quiet. And Schuck, the toad, was practically rocking on his heels with the crisis he’d caused, as though he’d been promised a bonus for each irregularity he reported.

I had my own axe to grind with this ill-kempt troublemaker, but I’d brought on some of these problems myself. Had I not been chasing around in see-through lace, asking Chapin’s lifelong rival for advice on seduction, none of this would’ve happened. But then, it all circled back to that day I saw my husband in a public courtyard humping his
niece
, didn’t it?

This image bolstered my resolve. It wasn’t the time to mention his duplicity — his own glaring infidelity of late — but I did have an ace to play. A long shot, but sometimes a pellet of hard-packed truth is more useful after it rolls down the mountainside to gather snow. If I could diffuse this dire situation, it was worth being further humiliated by my husband in front of the staff.

‘I have a confession,’ I began quietly — hoping to bring Chapin’s breathing under control, for his colour looked high. I smelled perfume on him too, but that was another issue entirely.

He shot me a sour look. ‘I told you we’ll discuss your
affairs
at a later —’

‘My
affairs
are not what they seem,’ I hedged, stepping towards him. ‘I’ll admit this is not the attire of a proper wife, but when I set out wearing it, the idea was to attract
your
attention, Chapin. I was going to whisk you away in the carriage after your lunch at the Beau Monde Club. A surprise designed to pique your interest in me, as a woman who
wants
you —’

‘If you think I’ll believe that —’

‘— but you’d already left,’ I pressed on. ‘And during that earlier meeting with your financial backers? Again at your gentlemen’s club? That sucking you got was my doing too!’

Chapin’s face went pale. ‘Not only have you become a habitual liar, but you’ve lost your mind, woman. Females are
never
allowed inside —’

‘I’ve got your tip, folded and shaped by the heat of your hand, as proof.’

I stood only a few feet in front of him, crossing my arms beneath my breasts. ‘Yes, this is an indelicate matter to mention before the staff, but a desperate woman takes desperate measures. Better to expose myself as a shameless hussy trying to win her man’s affection than to expose other matters that have come to
my
attention.
Isn’t
it?’

Once again, my tongue had jumped ahead of my strategy, dammit. Chapin’s pale-blue eyes hardened into marbles, in a face turned to stone. Worse yet, when Judd started snickering, my husband assumed I’d sucked his valet’s cock under the table too.

‘Don’t go popping any fly buttons, thinking Miss Eve did you the same favour, Mr Schuck,’ Monique chided. She stood taller, holding her head so her unruly topknot looked balanced. ‘That whole escapade — and today’s black lace caper — were my idea, Mr Proffit. Like she said, Miss Eve just wanted her man. And I just wanted Miss Eve to be happy. If this doesn’t please you, I will leave after I —’

‘You’re already gone, bitch. Mrs Frike will send your belongings when she finds time —’

In the blink of her scalding-coffee eyes, the maid sprang forward to snatch the dildo from Chapin’s hand. The tattoo of her high-heeled boots in the hall, and then the slam of the front door, marked her departure. Without a backward glance, Monique Picabou was gone.

‘If any of you have any similar
ridiculous
notions about relations between my wife and me, you may collect your pay and leave.’

The small study reverberated with silence, and the fidgeting of the three maids wearing short, sassy uniforms like Monique’s. They kept their panties pulled up these days, but if Chapin or his new watchdog caught a whiff of their equipment, I didn’t want to think about the fit my husband would throw!

After a full minute of lording over us with his pointed glare and flaring nostrils, Chapin dismissed us. ‘Except for you, Miss Eve. We’ll continue our discussion after the others leave.’

I stood aside to let them pass, noting the maids’ beleaguered looks and the apology etched on the housekeeper’s face. Schuck smirked, falling in at the end of the subdued parade.

‘I suppose you’re going to spank me for this,’ he jeered.

‘Bastard,’ came Fanny’s reply, ‘you’ll get yours, for telling tales on Miss Eve. Not worth the trouble of heating up my hand on your fat ass, that’s for sure.’

My husband let these remarks pass, and then closed the door. He brushed the lapels of his natty double-breasted suit, and was still gripping them when he confronted me. ‘Where have you been, Mrs Proffit? Don’t bother lying! Everyone in the room smelled the reek of your sex.’

I widened my eyes at him, thinking quickly. ‘I have a toy of my own, you know. Who’s to say —’

‘Where did you go, after you supposedly stopped by the club for me?’

‘And where were
you
?’ There was no point in mincing words, for what did I have to lose? ‘Just couldn’t wait to be with your niece, Savanna? Or did you visit that woman I saw leaving your room the other morning?’

Chapin’s face paled until his eyebrows and lashes looked painted on. ‘I don’t have to answer to —’

‘Why not? For seven years you’ve treated me as though I’m no more enticing than a piece of your mother’s furniture!’ I blurted, grinding my fists into my hips. ‘I’m tired of feeling like —’

‘Oh, for God’s sake,
cover
yourself!’ He gestured at my poorly wrapped lace dress, scowling. ‘Any man would be upset to learn his wife is messing with her maid, but I have a campaign to manage! If it gets out that you’re one of
those
kind — or running around with that bastard Dewel —’

‘You won’t be the next mayor of New Orleans? Wouldn’t
that
be a shame?’

I stalked towards the door without bothering to rewrap my dress, for I’d revealed far more than my breasts and my bush today. Chapin knew what I knew: he hadn’t refuted his dalliance with young Savanna, or the presence of that other woman in his suite. Like most men, he felt himself exempt from the social strictures binding a wife’s behaviour — and now, no amount of coaxing or cajoling would get him into my bed.

Not that I wanted him any more. When I got to my room I locked my door, and then shoved my vanity in front of that open keyhole. His damn valet wouldn’t be privy to anything else I said or did either!

*  *  *

Schuck would’ve had little to witness as the night wore on, however. I couldn’t sleep: I was reliving my terror when Chapin hailed me from his study, and the anger that welled up as his insidious inquisition continued. Why had everything Dewel and Monique arranged for me, with the best intentions, gone sour? My husband always ruined it by appearing at just the wrong moment.

I was partly to blame, of course: I had allowed the illegitimate Proffit and his Cajun protégée to take charge of my private life. It was no wonder Chapin railed about my deteriorating morals, for I’d undergone an amazing transformation these past few weeks — just at the time his reputation depended on an obedient wife.

Well, that was too damn bad! And there was no turning back, nor reverting to the previous Miss Eve, who followed the rules of a society and a husband who didn’t give a
whit
about my happiness.

It grieved me, too, that Monique had left without so much as a furtive wink — anything to show that our friendship didn’t end with her position here. But she’d had no more choice about it than I had. Chapin perceived my maid as a threat to his almighty position in this household — in the entire city — so she got sacrificed on the altar of his gratification.

A thumping above my head made me blink, and listen. Mrs Frike had a small suite behind the kitchen, but the main servants’ quarters were on the third floor. The sissy maids had made so little noise before this, it hadn’t occurred to me they might be right above my own room.

Was that the bumping of a bed against a wall? I didn’t want to consider which of those effete young men was doing what to whom, yet the attraction was there. They had urges, just like I did. And now that Monique had established the intrigue of same-sex relations, I could hardly act repulsed about how my hired help behaved in their off hours.

I heard a raised voice — Cinderella’s it was. ‘I don’t
care
what you say! Chapin Proffit is a horrid, manipulative bully who —’

She got shushed, and as I glanced towards the corner of the ceiling, I saw a circular grate. It had once housed a furnace pipe, but since steam radiators had been installed on that top floor it served only as a vent for air circulation.

I smiled, realising I had access to their conversations. But then, those three could listen in on my activities as well — and I suspected they already had.

On impulse, I grabbed my fireplace poker, stood on the vanity bench, and tapped at the metal grate. The squabbling — which sounded suspiciously like part of a three-way sex session — came to an abrupt halt. I tapped again, in a pattern that couldn’t be taken as coincidence.

An eye and a dark eyebrow appeared in the centre hole. ‘Yes, Miss Eve?’ Cleopatra said in a stage whisper. ‘If we’re being too noisy —’

‘No, I…just wanted someone to talk to.’ I was again aware of the impropriety of sharing my thoughts with the help, but Monique’s departure had left a void I was already feeling. ‘I’ll come up the back stairs. If that’s all right.’

‘That would be lovely!’ It was Cinderella’s face partially framed in the round opening now, peering down with an eye that appeared red from crying. ‘We must stick together, you know. It simply isn’t fair —’

‘See you in a moment,’ came the brunette’s calmer voice. ‘The
princess
is beside herself tonight.’

I wrapped a robe around my nightgown and slipped down the hallway, wondering if Judd Schuck monitored this activity. Or perhaps, as the Golden Boy’s new pet, he was downstairs indulging in his master’s fine brandy and imported cigars, basking in the light of privilege and favour. Fine by me if those two kept each other company. They deserved each other.

As I entered the large, dormered servants’ quarters, I felt as though I’d joined a pyjama party where young girls twittered the night away in gossip. But, of course, these ‘young ladies’ had cocks and balls clearly visible through their nighties. Their flat chests seemed incongruous, after I’d grown used to seeing them with stuffed uniforms. The room smelled of male musk, with overtones of perfume.

Cinderella, draped in a lacy confection of translucent blue, greeted me with a hug. ‘I am
so
sorry about tonight, Miss Eve,’ she gushed. ‘We tried to persuade Mr Chapin that you were taking care of details for the Mardi Gras ball, but he wouldn’t believe us.’

I hugged her, touched by her concern. ‘I was a fool to say as much as I did — especially about Mr Proffit’s own activities. But at least it’s all on the table now.’

‘We knew you were with Dewel, of course,’ Cleopatra said with a suggestive wink. She plucked at the strap of her beaded red peignoir, which flickered like embers each time she moved.

‘But it’s easy to see that you and the other Proffit are so perfectly matched — if you’ll pardon my saying so.’ Antoinette looked directly at me, with a speculative expression. Wrapped in a dressing gown of a pale green floral pattern, she was the most discreet of the three. ‘We saw you cavorting in the fountain with Tommy Jon and Monique, you see. And after that, we watched that handsome Creole take control of you, until you were crying out with —’

My appalled expression made the redhead grin.

‘We couldn’t resist watching,’ she said with a coy shrug. ‘It inspired a night of our own sort of…cavorting.’

I swallowed hard, slipping free of Cinderella’s embrace. I hadn’t realised just how visible my trysting had been…how much evidence my husband could’ve gathered by stepping out to the gallery. ‘Do you think Chapin saw us?’

‘No. He was out that evening, remember?’ Cleo replied. ‘With Schuck trotting along behind him like a damn bulldog, kissing his butt.’

‘And I, for one, refuse to let it pass!’ Cinderella stiffened with renewed resolve. With two pink cheeks aglow on her porcelain face, and her blonde hair flowing past her behind, she looked like Rapunzel pitching a fit. ‘We have our ways of getting back at those two —’

‘Don’t get noticed. Get revenge.’ Even with her exotic cosmetics washed off, Cleopatra had a regal bearing as she sat against her propped-up pillow, demurely arranging her red peignoir over her outstretched legs.