Page 3 of Love Be Mine (The Louisiana Ladies #3)

The offices of Galland, Lancaster and Dupree were on Decatur Street, the warehouses on Tchoupitoulas Street at the riverfront. That afternoon, having seen his few belongings delivered and settled at Jasper's town house, Hugh made his way to Decatur Street alone.

Jasper had wanted to accompany him, but Hugh had declined his company. "It will be better if I go by myself," he had said, as they had risen from the table. "For the time being it might be better if you do not champion my cause quite so obviously."

"As you wish, mon ami." A sheepish grin had crossed Jasper's face. "It is just as well—I promised some friends that I would attend a cockfight with them this afternoon if the weather was pleasant."

Hugh had shaken his head in mock dismay. "And the business, what about it?"

Jasper had smiled sunnily back at him. "But you are here now—you shall see to it."

Laughing, Hugh had departed, wondering how anything was ever accomplished in New Orleans, considering the Creole preoccupation with pleasurable pursuits.

As he reached his destination, the sun was still shining, but its luster had dimmed, and there was a faint chill in the air.

The offices of Galland, Lancaster and Dupree were housed in one of the few buildings which had escaped the periodic fires which swept through the city, and retained much of the early French construction. The handsome pale yellow stucco structure was built long and low. Stepping through the stout wooden double doors, Hugh was pleased to see the place busy, clerks and accountants bent industriously over their ledgers and papers.

The head accountant, a fussy little Frenchman by the name of Pierre Brisson, glanced up, and his eyes widened as he caught sight of Hugh. Springing to his feet, he laid down his quill and hurried over to greet Hugh.

"Monsieur Lancaster! This is a pleasant surprise. No one mentioned that you were expected in the city and would pay us a visit. Please, please allow me to escort you to the owners' offices."

Hugh waved him away with a smile. "That shan't be necessary, Brisson. I would like to look around on my own, if you do not mind." Raising his voice, he said, "I'm afraid, you shall see a great deal of me from now on. I am moving to New Orleans and intend to be here most days."

Hugh was aware of the startled murmur as his news was assimilated, but no one seemed particularly alarmed by it... which was what he expected. Whoever was stealing from Galland, Lancaster and Dupree, and he was very certain that someone in the firm was, was being clever about it. He hadn't expected that his announcement would flush out his quarry. He had hoped, however, that someone might betray a little dismay at his announcement and give him some direction in which to search. No one had.

He moved along the wide, desk-lined aisles, halting to talk to first one man, then another, introducing himself to any new faces that had not been there during his last trip to New Orleans in September. Brisson tended to hover around him, but since he hadn't expected to find out anything today, Hugh put up with the fellow's nervous fawning.

Approaching a fresh-faced young man near the rear of the room, Hugh's gaze ran thoughtfully over him when he learned that his name was Etienne Gras. So this was the young man Jasper was attempting to befriend. He was surprised to learn that Etienne had worked for the company for nearly three years... yet they had never met. Odd.

As if he guessed Hugh's thought, Etienne smiled, and said, "I have long wanted the honor of meeting you, Monsieur Lancaster, but each time you have visited here I was at one of the warehouses, inventorying and recording the latest shipments."

Hugh nodded. "And that is your job? Inventorying the goods upon arrival?"

"Among others," Etienne answered.

Hugh stood talking to the young man and several others for a few moments before he allowed Brisson to escort him to the private offices. Looking around the spacious room, Hugh snorted. The room looked like a leisured gentleman's study— not an office.

Faint sunlight from a window at the rear of the room brought out the shades of russet and green of the fine carpet which lay upon the floor. Several comfortable brown leather chairs and small tables were scattered about, newspapers and leaflets strewn across them. Idly lifting one of the leaflets, Hugh's lips twisted—as he expected, the leaflet announced a cockfight. God forbid that the Duprees should read anything that pertained to business.

Continuing his appraisal of the office, he noted a mahogany sideboard sitting against one wall, the top littered with crystal bottles holding a variety of spirits. A gilt-framed mirror hung above the sideboard, and several hunting prints adorned the remaining walls. A pair of doors opposite each other gave entrance, Hugh remembered, to twin private offices. It was a pleasant room, and Hugh did not object to working in pleasing surroundings, but from the bare, gleaming expanse of the impressive desk which was situated at the far end of the room, it was clear that Jean and Francois seldom used it, and then certainly not for work!

Hugh said nothing for several seconds, then he turned and said, "Those doors lead to the other offices, am I correct?"

"Oh, oui, monsieur ," Pierre said. "There is one on either side of this room. When they were here, this was Monsieur Galland's office, and the Duprees were on either side of him." He coughed slightly. "Of late Monsieur Jean and Monsieur Francois have been using this office exclusively."

"Well, not any longer," Hugh said decisively. "Have a locksmith in—I want all the locks changed, and I am to have the only keys." He smiled down at Brisson's worried features. "Do not worry, I shall inform the other owners of the change."

Timidly Brisson asked, "Does this mean that you shall be here regularly, monsieur?"

"Every day," Hugh said with relish.

A smile lit Brisson's sallow features. "Ah, bon, Monsieur! I have often wished that the other..." He stopped, not wishing to appear disloyal, and added hastily, "It will be, er, convenient to have one of the owners regularly on the premises."

Satisfied with his afternoon's visit, Hugh was whistling to himself as he strolled back toward Jasper's house. Once there, he made himself at home in Jasper's study, writing notes to various American acquaintances in the city, advising them of his presence. One of those polite notes went to Alice Summerfield's father, and as he sealed the letter, Hugh looked at it thoughtfully, Jasper's words about a cold-blooded American coming back to haunt him. Was he being unwise to court Alice? He had always found her a charming companion, reserved yes, but then one did not want a forward hoyden for a wife. Admittedly, with her pale blond hair, soft blue eyes, and tall, slender build, she was a lovely woman, but he was aware that she aroused little passion in him. Of course, he reminded himself, he was of an age when he should not be consumed with a youth's wild, indiscriminate lust. He was fond of Alice. He admired her. She was well connected, came from a good family, and had money of her own—he did not have to fear that it was solely his fortune that attracted her.

Alice would be an asset to him, he admitted. She would see that his household ran smoothly; she would preside graciously over his table and, in time, God willing, would present him with the heirs which would please his stepfather. Surely those were all legitimate reasons for marrying her? Then why did he feel uneasy about it?

Jasper's words slid slyly through his mind, followed swiftly by Micaela Dupree's image, her dark eyes flashing, her saucy mouth tempting and beckoning. Hugh felt his body tighten with a powerful surge of desire. Damn Jasper! These unseemly thoughts of Micaela Dupree were his fault. He would be courting Alice Summerfield, not that haughty piece of work, Micaela Dupree.

If Jasper found his friend short-tempered and out of sorts that evening, he put it down to Hugh's preoccupation with work and proceeded to bedevil him about it, which, of course, did nothing to improve Hugh's mood. It was with relief that Hugh sought out his bed, and as he laid there, his thoughts of his best friend were uncharitable—at best.

By morning Hugh had recovered his usual good spirits. He spent several hours arranging things to suit himself at the offices of Galland, Lancaster and Dupree. He had also taken time to pay the warehouses on Tchoupitoulas Street a visit and, having made his plans for remaining in the city and taking a firmer hand in the business known to the dockworkers, was feeling satisfied with himself. Whoever was stealing from the company was not going to find it as easy as he had in the past—he would see to that!

As he bathed and dressed that evening for dinner at the Duprees, Hugh was conscious of a feeling of anticipation, an almost boyish eagerness that he had not felt in a long time. Checking his cravat one last time in the cheval glass in his room, he told himself firmly that his light mood had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that he would be seeing Micaela Dupree shortly. He was merely pleased with his day's work.

Micaela could not say that she was looking forward to the coming evening. Yet she could not deny that she took especial care with her dress that evening and that there was a sparkle in her eyes that a dinner with friends and family should not have put there. Her dark, gleaming locks, piled high on her head, were held in place with pearl-and-ebony combs and her pale pink silk gown lent a rosy glow to her alabaster skin and intensified the cherry hue of her lips. A fringed shawl in delicate shades of cream and green was around her shoulders, and as she descended the stairs to join her mother in the second-best parlor, she was conscious of a flutter of excitement—and annoyed by it.

The dinner party had grown since Lisette had invited Hugh and Jasper. Alain Husson, his sister and Micaela's best friend, Cecile, had also been invited, as well as their widowed mother, Madame Husson. Madame Husson's sister-in-law, Madame Marie Husson, had been included in the invitation, as much because she was related to the Duprees—Renault and Jean's father had been her brother—as the fact that being a widow herself, she lived with the rest of the Hussons. And, of course, Jean and Francois would be there—resentfully. Both men had been put out when they had learned who was to be their dinner guest that Saturday night, but Lisette had arched a brow at their protestations and wafted serenely from the room. It was, as she had informed them, her dinner party. They could attend or not.

Despite the undercurrent of tension, the evening went well—everyone was, after all, on their very best behavior. It was true that Madame Husson and Tante Marie, as she was known to Micaela and Francois, as well as Alain and Cecile, were coolly polite to the Américain in their midst, but Jasper, ably assisted by Lisette, was quick to smooth over any awkward moments. Jean kept a civil tongue in his mouth, and Francois followed his uncle's lead. Micaela ignored Hugh, allowing herself only the occasional surreptitious glance in his direction; Cecile, not yet eighteen, was plainly awed by the tall, handsome Américain, and Alain, who was Micaela's most persistent suitor, chose to pretend that Hugh was not present and lavished the majority of his conversation and longing looks on Micaela.

Hugh had met Alain Husson only once previously, and he held no particular opinion about the man. He knew that, like Jasper, Alain had gained a small share in Galland, Lancaster and Dupree two and a half years ago because of Christophe's penchant for reckless gaming. The wager, if he remembered correctly, had had something to do with how far a frog would leap. Hugh grimaced. The Creole love of gambling and their willingness to wager large sums on the most ridiculous events mystified him.

Alain was about Hugh's age. He was not tall, but he was built like a bull, solid, with powerful shoulders and strong, muscular thighs. He was handsome, his features attractively sculpted and his smile most charming, but watching him bend his dark head attentively next to Micaela's, Hugh decided that he didn't care for the man.

When the ladies rose from the table, leaving the gentlemen to their tobacco and wine, there was a moment of silence. Then Jasper said gaily as he looked across the table at Hugh, "This is most fortunate, mon ami —it so happens, that with the exception of your step-papa, Madame Dupree has assembled all the partners in Galland, Lancaster and Dupree in her dining room tonight. Now would be an excellent opportunity for you to explain what you have been doing since your arrival and what your plans are for the company, oui?"

In the act of lighting a slim, black cheroot, Hugh glanced wryly at Jasper's mocking face. Trust Jasper to put the cat amongst the pigeons.

Taking in an appreciative drag of his cheroot, Hugh watched the thin stream of blue smoke rise toward the ceiling. "I had thought to call a meeting tomorrow, but if you gentlemen...?"

Jean nodded curtly; the others concurred.

Taking a sip of his Madeira, Hugh said mildly, "I expect that most of what I plan to do will affect you little. I will warn you, however, that I intend to take an active part in the running of the business. By that I mean, except for certain times of the year, most notably the fever season, that I shall be at our offices every day and that little will be done without my having first overseen it." He shot Jean a sardonic look. "I do not, of course, expect you to change your habits. I assume that you will continue as you have in the past."

His face resentful, Jean's lip curled. "You would become a 'chaca' a tradesman?"

"I am a tradesman," Hugh said levelly, not rising to the challenge. "And I think you forget that it is 'trade' which is our business."

Jean sniffed. "Very well. You will be at the office every day and nothing will be done without your permission. What else?"

"Why nothing," Hugh said. He stared at the burning tip of his cheroot before adding softly, "There is one thing more, though—I have taken over Christophe's old office for my private and personal use. I hope that you will not mind. For the amount of time the rest of you spend there, I am sure that you can comfortably manage your affairs in one of the other two private offices."

"You are throwing us out of my grand-pere' s office?" Francois demanded angrily. "What right do you have to do such a thing?"

Hugh smiled grimly. "The right of someone who intends to get a great deal of work done in that office... and my right as owner of the major shares of the business."

There was a sullen silence, but neither of the Duprees offered further challenge. Hugh waited a moment before saying quietly, "I know that the next few months are going to be trying for all of us—I shall try not to step on too many toes, or offend your sensibilities if I can help it, but I intend to find out precisely why we seem to be losing so much money. You can either help me... or..."

"But of course, we will help you," Jasper exclaimed. He looked around at the others. "It is to our advantage, oui?"

Grudgingly the other three nodded, Francois going so far as to say, "Perhaps this will be a good thing."

Alain shot him a look, and Francois became very interested in his wineglass.

Throwing down his napkin and rising to his feet, Jean said, "Since there is nothing else to discuss, shall we join the ladies?"

It was clear to Micaela that something had happened in the dining room to upset her brother and uncle the instant they entered the room, and she felt a faint stab of anxiety. What had the Américain said to them to make both men look so grim?

As the gentlemen gravitated toward Lisette, who was pouring coffee near the cheery fire, Micaela plucked at Francois's sleeve. He glanced at her, and she tipped her head, indicating a small alcove near one end of the large room.

Discreetly, brother and sister retired in that direction, and Micaela asked in a low voice, "What is wrong, mon cher? What did the Américain say to you?"

Francois's jaw hardened, and his hands clenched into fists. "The arrogance of the creature! Not here two days, and already he has commandeered Grand-pere's office and loftily informed the rest of us that it is to be his alone!" His dark eyes burned as he added dramatically. "We shall be nothing more than lowly clerks if he has his way!"

Micaela looked shocked. "He is going to make you work as a clerk? But you are one of the owners! Can he do this?"

Resentfully, Francois said, "Apparently, he thinks he can do anything he pleases and that we must obey him."

"But we are owners, too!"

"Tell that to him!"

Furious for her brother, Micaela's delicate lips thinned. How dare this, this, usurper dictate to her family! Why he wasn't even one of the original partners. How dare he!

Sipping his coffee near the fire, over the rim of his cup Hugh had observed the interplay between brother and sister, and, from the expressions on their faces, he had a very good idea what had been said. If the angry cast to her mouth was any indication, it was obvious that Micaela was committed to her brother's camp. He sighed. He might have been a little high-handed in his manner, but, dammit, things had been allowed to slide for too long, and he didn't have the patience or the inclination to tread carefully around the excitable sensibilities of the Duprees. It was better, he told himself wearily, that he establish his position right from the start. In time, perhaps, he could use more finesse in dealing with them. But not now.

Returning to join the group clustered around the fire, Micaela's sense of injustice grew as she watched Cecile hang on every word that passed Hugh's lips. Cecile was clearly entranced, and Micaela found herself holding Hugh's easy charm against him. Her chin lifted. No doubt he was amusing himself at Cecile's expense. How sad that her friend was being taken in by such a blackguard.

Accepting a cup of coffee from her mother, a militant light in her fine eyes, Micaela wandered over to where Hugh, Cecile, and Jasper were standing. She stood listening to their banter for a few moments, then asked Hugh, "So, Monsieur Lancaster, have you found a place to stay in our fair city?"

Hugh's brow lifted. The proud little mademoiselle was deigning to speak to him? He sent her a lazy smile. "Indeed I have, Mademoiselle Dupree—Jasper has kindly offered me the hospitality of his home for as long as I wish."

Micaela cocked her head. Taking a sip of her coffee, then slowly turning away, she said softly over her shoulder, "How strange... I would have thought that you would have made your quarters at the offices of the company. But then, it is possible, I suppose, for the premises to survive without your presence during the night."

Cecile smothered a gasp, and Jasper laughed aloud. Hugh smiled, although there was a glint in his gray eyes which made Micaela strangely breathless. He bowed low, acknowledging her barb, but instead of feeling victorious, Micaela stalked away with a sense of having survived a dangerous escape.

Alain appeared at her shoulder, and she spent several moments conversing with him and recovering her composure. She liked Alain and was flattered by his attention—he was considered a very eligible parti, and there were several other young ladies who would have been ecstatic to have him dancing attendance on them. But Micaela could not bring herself to accept his attentions seriously. Francois and Jean both had been pushing his suit for several months now. Was that why she could not bring herself to say yes and become betrothed to Alain? Because they wanted it so desperately?

She hoped she wasn't that disobliging, but she had to admit that she had no good reason for refusing to accept an offer from Alain. He and Francis were close friends, although Alain was nearly a decade older than her brother. They had all grown up together—the Husson plantation was not far from the Duprees'. The Hussons were respectable and wealthy. There was even an indirect tie of blood— Tante Marie. It would be an eminently suitable match, so why was she dithering?

Unaccountably her gaze slid to the tall Américain near the fire. He was laughing at something her mother had said, his handsome face full of amusement. Across the room Hugh's eyes suddenly met hers, and Micaela felt her heart leap in her breast. Blushing furiously at the gleam which sprang into his gaze, she glanced hastily away.

Merci! Merci! What was wrong with her? Pasting a smile on her lips, she forced herself to concentrate on what Alain was saying, determined not to spare one more glance at the Américain for the rest of the evening. She managed to do just that until Hugh and Jasper were taking their leave. The Husson family had departed a few minutes previously, and the remaining members of the party were gathered in the entryway bidding each other good night.

Micaela was standing next to her mother, Francois and Jean nearby. Jasper had already said his good-byes and was waiting at the door. Hugh bent over Lisette's hand and warmly thanked her for the evening.

A smile on his lips, he added, "Perhaps you will allow me to return the favor? I would very much like to have you and your family as my guests at one of the hotels for dinner. Will you allow me to arrange it?"

To her dismay, Micaela's pulse quickened at his words. Francois and Jean were quick to offer polite protests, but Lisette, paying them no heed, beamed at Hugh. "Why, monsieur, that would be most famous. I am sure that we should enjoy it."

The door had barely closed behind Hugh and Jasper before Francois burst out, " Maman! How could you? Tonight was bad enough, but must you encourage the man? He is our enemy. And he has treated Jean and me most cavalierly. Let me tell you what he has done to us."

As Francois proceeded vociferously to lay out Hugh's many crimes to his mother, Micaela drifted away, eager for the solace of her bedchamber. Jean's touch on her arm stopped her, and she looked inquiringly at him.

"A word with you, petite?"'

Mystified, Micaela followed him into one of the smaller rooms. "What is it?"

Jean took a turn around the room, then, his hands behind his back, he said, "I wondered if you had made a decision about Alain Husson. He spoke to me earlier this evening before the others arrived. He indicated again how very much he wants to marry you."

Micaela bit her lip, her eyes on the floor in front of her. "I-I-I h-h-had not thought about it very much."

"Not thought about it very much!" Jean repeated, dismayed. "How can you not have thought about it? Alain Husson is a very suitable match. He is young, handsome, and comes from a good family. What more do you want in a husband?"

Micaela couldn't answer that question, but realizing that she also could not expect Alain to wait endlessly for her answer, she took a deep breath. Meeting Jean's gaze, she said softly, "I have been most unfair—I should have told you weeks ago that I do not wish to marry him."

"Perhaps you should consider someone else besides yourself before you make a final decision. I know that you are aware that our business affairs have not gone so well of late, but are you aware of the fact that Alain holds a rather large vowel signed by your brother? A debt that is difficult for Francois to pay?" Jean looked uncomfortable. "Alain has, in the most discreet fashion imaginable, made it clear that the day your betrothal is announced, he will happily destroy the note—as a sign of good faith toward his soon-to-be-brother-in-law."

Dismay filled Micaela. "A gambling debt?"

Jean nodded unhappily. "Francois is young—he has not yet learned not to be foolish with his money. It is fortunate for us that it is Alain who holds the note."

When Micaela remained silent, Jean crossed to her. Taking one of her hands in his, he said earnestly, "I do not like to put this burden on your shoulders, ma chère, but it is important that you understand that this is a troubling time for all of us right now. Alain is most desperate to marry you—he has even mentioned that a great dowry is not important to him." Steadily holding her gaze, he added softly, "Besides saving your brother from an embarrassing situation, there is much to recommend this match, petite. In fact I cannot think of one reason against it. Do not forget, too, that if you marry Alain Husson, you will, in effect, be keeping the shares of the business in the family. With this Américain underfoot, it is important that as a family we all stick together."

Her eyes searching his, Micaela said miserably, "You have given me much to think about, oncle ... but I must be truthful with you and tell you that I do not want to marry Alain Husson."

"Not even to save your family?" he demanded.

"I do not know," she admitted huskily. "I shall have to think on it. You ask a great deal of me."

Her heart heavy in her breast, Micaela bade her uncle good night and swiftly left the room.

After Micaela had departed, Jean wandered about, his thoughts unpleasant. He had been so certain that she would accept Husson's offer. Something must be done to make her see sense.

Francois entered, a question in his eyes. Jean shook his head. "She does not want to marry him."

Francois's face fell. "I do not understand her. Why is she being so stubborn? Does she want to die a spinster? There are dozens of girls who would swoon with delight if Alain wanted to marry them."

"Unfortunately, your sister is not one of them," Jean replied dryly.

"What are we to do? Alain is pressing me for the money—or Micaela's hand."

Jean took a deep breath. "I think that we shall have to make up her mind for her."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that we shall have to arrange a... situation. A situation which will make it impossible for her to refuse to marry Alain."

Francois's eyes widened. "You mean...?"

Jean slowly nodded. " Oui ," he said heavily. "I find this situation distasteful, but I see no other way out. If your father were alive, he would no doubt simply order her to marry the man of his choice, but we cannot. And so we must stoop to an unpleasant subterfuge." Uncomfortably, Jean continued, "With Alain's help, and I do not doubt that he will be most willing to play his part, we must see to it that your sister is thoroughly compromised and that she has no choice but to accept marriage to Alain Husson."