Saving The Marquise's Granddaughter (32 page)

Johan pulled at his high neck cloth, unaccustomed to its snug fit. “Is our marriage recorded in your book?”

“Oui.”

The church door burst open, bringing cool air and Phillip, who bent over panting as though he had run the whole way from the shop.

“What is it?” Johan went to his friend’s side. “Is it Vann?”

“No.”

The priest came forward and touched Phillip’s arm. “Calm yourself and tell us what’s wrong.”

Phillip shook his head twice then sucked in a long steady intake of air. “Yesterday, Suzanne came looking for you. I told her Vann released you.”

“Ja?”

His friend looked up at him. “Why didn’t you tell her, Johan? About Vann and his offer?”

Johan shrugged. “Was going to tell her later.
Überraschung
.
”

Phillip’s mouth dropped open. “A surprise all right. Like it will be when that snake, LeFort, abducts her and sails off tonight!”

The news hit like a punch to his gut. “Nein!”

Phillip huffed, “LeFort’s carriage driver came to the shop for a repair. Said it had to be done tonight. But the man was scared. Etienne was in a hurry to get his mistress to the ship but couldn’t find her. Planned to locate her and lock her in their room if need be. And was going to be bringing another woman on board with him, too. Suzanne Richelieu, he said.”

Johan was halfway out the church door before he turned to the priest. “Thank you.”

As they dodged carriages and horses, crossing several streets, Johan balled his fists. “You go to LeFort’s driver and tell him not to come until very late, and I’ll get ready and go on to Christy’s.”

~*~

A beautiful woman with dark eyes and elaborately coiffed hair slipped from behind Etienne. Her powdered face contrasted sharply against darkly rouged lips and cheeks. Ivory satin set off her dark hair, as did the sheer netting floating around her shoulders.

Suzanne blinked and tried not to stare at the woman who held her former beau’s interest…if not his heart.

One corner of Etienne’s lips moved upward in a half-smile. “May I introduce Evangeline Favret. She’s the widow of my plantation’s former owner.”

As she sank into a curtsy, the island woman’s heavy scent overpowered even the roses.

Suzanne blinked and then whispered to Christy, “Should we open the windows?”

Christy’s silver head ascended slightly, his lips barely tipping up in a smile that she recognized—one of amusement and disgust covered with a veneer of civility.

Colonel McCready lifted the window at the far end of the room, almost as though he had heard her words.

Christy grinned at her.

The fabulous mistress was being presented on Etienne’s outstretched arms. This close, the woman’s eyes didn’t seem to focus. What was wrong with her?

“
Enchanté
, Evangeline.” Suzanne prayed her voice didn’t sound like a croak.

As the woman kissed her cheek, Suzanne held her breath. The cut of Evangeline’s bodice dipped low to the point of vulgarity. Suzanne touched her own modest topaz-filled neckline, her ecru lace ruffles dropping back against her three-quarter sleeves.

Etienne’s eyes grew cold as he appraised Evangeline. “I brought her away so that she might begin to overcome her grief.”

A pang of guilt squeezed Suzanne’s chest. She’d been judging this woman who had lost her husband.

Christy bent and kissed her hand. “Please accept my condolences, Madame Favret. We hope you enjoy your dinner with us this evening.”

Evangeline’s head lifted and her eyes became more alert, then her gaze darted about the room.

Wyatt emerged from the shadows near the hall stairs, startling Suzanne.

She drew in a sharp breath.

Evangeline merely lowered her dark eyelashes and raised one hand languidly for the young man.

Suzanne exhaled as Wyatt drew her away from them and pulled a chair out for Evangeline at the far end of the long table, near McCready.

“Offer you some strong libation, LeFort?” McCready’s deep voice carried across the room. He removed the stopper from a crystal decanter of sherry. “Think you might need it.”

Christy chuckled and shook his head. “Colonel McCready, one would think you resided here.”

Etienne ignored the two English officers and kissed Suzanne’s cheeks before quickly releasing her. Nothing in his brief touch indicated he’d ever been her intended.

Her heartbeat slowed to a dull, hard thumping. How could she ever have been so naive?

A servant brought in a tray, accompanied by the delicate aroma of seafood mingled with more seasoned fare.

Christy motioned toward the long table. “Suzanne and Etienne, would you mind taking your places at the table?”

Wyatt’s sensuous grin indicated that he was already seated exactly where he wanted to be—close to Evangeline.

McCready brought the sherry to the table and pulled the Chippendale chair out next to Evangeline, where Etienne’s gaze had settled.

A dark head popped up from underneath the dining table.

“William!” Suzanne jumped, but then began to laugh as the boy, dressed in buckskins, ducked back under the table, apparently scrambling further down.

Christy sighed. “My pardons.”

“No need,” McCready jovially insisted. “Got five girls at home myself, and they all enjoy a good prank on their father.”

Her old beau stared at the back of McCready’s ginger head.

Christy stepped forward and held her chair for her.

A servant placed shrimp and crab pâté on Wyatt’s, and then Evangeline’s creamy china plates. Butter and herbs wafted up, mingling with the enticing scent of fresh seafood.

Christy celebrated evensong earlier.

Suzanne was surprised when, after he was settled, he didn’t ask a blessing upon the meal. Two giggling children may have distracted him, she surmised, as their small bodies brushed past her legs en route to him. She closed her eyes.
Lord, bless this meal and bring peace to me and this household.

Another servant placed small rounds of toasted bread upon their plates. Taking a bite of the crackers and the seafood, each pair seemed perfectly suited.

Suzanne’s stomach hurt. She pushed the wonderful food around her plate as Christy and Etienne discussed the market for sugar.

Etienne cleared his throat. “Monsieur, Suzanne has a long-standing betrothal to me.”

Colonel Christy’s thin lips tipped up only slightly and his silver eyes narrowed. “I’m afraid her contract was redeemed, and she’s desperately needed in her current situation.”

His dark eyebrows raised, Etienne sputtered, “Surely you cannot be serious?”

“Indeed, I am.”

Why was the colonel telling this falsehood? Suzanne’s fingers closed around the topaz necklace, a choking sensation building in her throat.

Two small forms flew from beneath the table.

Sarah, dressed in a short deerskin dress, chased William, who brandished a small hatchet. “Drop it, William!”

“Monsieur, I can see why you’d need help with that little savage, but…”

Christy stood as the children fled the room in a blur. Other than the rapid rise and fall of Christy’s chest, Suzanne could discern no emotion in him. “He’s my son, Monsieur LeFort, and he is no more savage than you.”

“Here! Here!” McCready agreed from the other end of the table, pouring himself another glass of sherry. “Boy looks no more Indian than his father nor…me.” He cleared his throat.

Etienne’s eyes were wide as he stared at the weapon left carelessly on the floor by William. A muscle in his jaw twitched. “We sail for France very soon.”

Wyatt laughed at something Evangeline had whispered in his ear. He pushed away from the table and pulled her chair out. He gestured to the hallway, and Christy nodded at him.

Suzanne’s head was pounding. If Christy
did
release her from her contract, where would she go? Johan had obtained his freedom. He wouldn’t have abandoned her.

The doorman appeared at the entrance and slid the pocket doors back.

She caught a glimpse of a couple beyond him.

The woman’s abdomen, round with child, bulged behind the servant’s narrow form, as well as a man’s long leg in cream-colored breeches.

Suzanne’s heart nearly bounded from her chest.

“Monsieur and Madame Guillame Richelieu!” The ebony-skinned servant teetered aside as Christy took Suzanne’s elbow and guided her to the doorway.

“Guy?” She shook so hard and her tears blurred her vision so much that she couldn’t have walked without the colonel’s guidance. “Jeanne!”

Guy crushed her in an embrace before kissing her cheeks. He glared at Etienne. “Please tell me that swine, LeFort, is not my brother-in-law! I was told by the innkeeper that my sister’s husband had received my missives.”

“No. He’s not.” She should have listened to her brother long ago. Turning to Jeanne, Suzanne embraced her friend gently, aware of the prominent swell of her abdomen. The child—Guy’s? Surely not. He never would have compromised her like that. Her brother implied Pierre LeFort was the father. As she held her old playmate, Suzanne felt tension grow in Jeanne’s arms and looked up.

Both Guy’s and Jeanne’s gazes fixed upon Etienne.

Turning, she saw that her old beau’s face had drained of color. His mouth agape, he pushed at his wig. She looked from him to Jeanne.

Something passed between the pair.

Jeanne clutched Suzanne’s hand, her fingers trembling.

“I heard you’d died, Guillame.” Etienne threw back some sherry and then wiped his mouth. “I’m glad this wasn’t true.”

“
Moi aussi
,” Jeanne asserted, her head rising higher and lips narrowing as she linked her arm through Guillame’s. “How
tragique
for my baby to not have his father. And for me to have lost my husband.”

Guy patted her hand and gazed down in adoration. “All I’ve lost is my good looks,
mon amour
.” He kissed Jeanne, bringing a smile to the beautiful lips of Evangeline.

Wyatt looked as though he might plant a kiss on that woman’s cheek at any moment.

Etienne’s voice tightened. “My brother wasn’t so fortunate.”

“I’m sorry for your loss.” Guy’s voice held true remorse. “I can only hope that he repented of his sins before he died.”

Etienne placed an index finger on his cheek and narrowed his eyes.

Guy seemed to be talking of Etienne as well.

Her stomach clenched. In her soul, Suzanne understood—Etienne was the father of her friend’s baby. Sadness and disgust flowed through her, but were quickly chased by the fresh wave of a pure thought—what a marvel that Guillame could be so good. That he could take on this child as his own. That he would love Jeanne and protect her from the LeForts.

She was filled with love for Guy, and a deep admiration that brought more tears streaming down her face…and an even deeper disgust for Etienne. Thank God, she’d been protected from him, or she could have ended up in Jeanne’s predicament. And what would have happened to her? She’d have never met the one she loved.

“Ja, I heard that.” a loud voice echoed in the hallway beyond the dining room. “We should all repent before we die and it’s too late.” Johan’s laughter softened the harsh tone of his words.

Doves seemed to beat in her chest. “Johan!” His elegant attire shocked her but he opened his arms to her and she went to him.

After a too-brief embrace, he released her and took a step back.

“Vann bought me this wedding suit.” Johan raised one arm, displaying a fine white shirt beneath a blue linen coat. His velvet breeches were spotless, and ornate silver buckles shone on his polished shoes.

She smiled. He’d be her handsome husband even if he wore his farm clothes and was covered in manure.
Thankfully, though, he’s not.
Stepping into his arms, again, she let him rest his head atop hers, felt his big hands rest on her back, pulling her close. Never letting her go. She drank in the scent of him.

“Suzie, we have an appointment tonight at St. Joseph’s. Are you ready?”

Etienne rose. “For what? Who is this man, Suzanne?”

Etienne and Guy stared at one another for a long moment before Etienne broke eye contact.

Carriage wheels sounded from the drive near the house.

Christy pulled the curtain aside. “Looks as if your coach awaits you.”

Suzanne squeezed Johan’s hand and got up on tiptoes to kiss the cleft in his chin. He moved his mouth down to cover hers and pulled away too quickly to suit her.

“We have a wedding at St. Joseph’s tonight for those who care to attend.” Johan kissed her forehead. “May I escort you?”

“Oui,” she laughed.

He reached out and touched her hair, pulling something from it.

Mortified, she pulled away.

“Just a little lint.” His eyes danced in mischief. “No insect this time!”

Guy stifled a grin. “Jeanne, shall we join them?”

“Of course.”

“I’m coming, too,” Christy called out.

Scott’s and Evangeline’s seats stood empty.

“I’ll keep your guest company, if you wish,” McCready offered, getting up to pour himself another glass of sherry. “We’ll call your boy downstairs to play a game of cards with us after I’m done guarding him.” He pulled open his jacket, revealing a brace of pistols.

Johan squeezed Suzanne’s hand. “Christy will bring Sarah,” he whispered in her ear.

Guy pivoted in Etienne’s direction and made a mock display of slapping his palm to his forehead. “Oh, I forgot. Rochambeau wanted me to advise you that if you don’t return to Versailles to manage your family’s affairs, your mother is coming to retrieve you. She fears you’ve too much time on your hands and have run amuck of the local gentry there. Something about a lynching party, I believe, if you return to the West Indies. The islanders say the lady you brought here didn’t voluntarily accompany you. Can you imagine that, Etienne? Whatever could people be thinking, telling tales like that about a gentleman such as yourself?”

33

The carriage lurched and Suzanne tumbled against Johan in the seat.

Wyatt drove at a breakneck speed as though someone chased them.

Mon Dieu, let me live to make it to the church.