Bal Masque (23 page)

Dorcas took off her bonnet and put it on the wooden box beside the loose hay. Her face was troubled, tired and grim with the weight of the things she’d been forced to do. She gave Lucienne an apologetic look.

“Pa heard that Mister Dupre was offerin’ a good reward for information about you. The Jessups, old Orman and Mort, they were panhandlin’ down at the dock, and Mister Dupre gave them some money to watch for you. They told Pa, of course, but not meanin’ anything by it, just gossipin’ about the gentry like folks do. Pa, he realized he could make money out of findin’ you and reckoned you’d gone to your grandma’s or the Pardues’ house, so he talked the boys into helpin’ us look for you. We been watchin’ one place or the other all week long. I was about set to give it up for today when I saw you hurryin’ along the road. Almost didn’t know you, not in that plain dress, with your hair hangin’ in two tails down your back.”

It was all for nothing!
All these days of running and hiding, trying to avoid the very life the Dupres and Papa had planned for her. Wordlessly Lucienne pounded the sacking and hay with her bound hands. It wasn’t right, it wasn’t, and she couldn’t go back. “You can’t, Dorcas, you can’t just hand me over to Armand Dupre as if I were livestock or a bag of onions he bought. I ought to have some say in this.”

Dorcas waved her words away. “Pa says the Jessups will get word to Mister Dupre in the mornin’ and tell him you’re found. That reward should be enough to get us goin’ somewhere.” Dorcas gave her an imploring look. “You’ll be all right, Miss Lucy Ann. You’ll have a good life with the Dupres, lots better than most. And with a little luck, your folks won’t ever know Pa had anything to do with it. Lord knows, the Jessups ain’t too bright, but even they can see how it’s going to be better if it looks like they’re just collectin’ what Mister Dupre promised for findin’ you.”

A terrible thought crossed Lucienne’s mind. She knew the whole story, who was involved doing what. She could tell everyone Price and his daughter had taken her, held her against her will, and extorted money for her return. The punishment for a crime like that, well, Lucienne didn’t know what the law would hand out, but Price would be lucky to have his skin still attached to his bones once Papa and Uncle Gaston got through with him.

Or did Price plan to see to it that she never revealed anything to anyone? Apprehension shivered through Lucienne’s slim form.

Dorcas seemed to read her thoughts. “Pa’s countin’ on you likin’ me enough to keep mum about his part in this, I ’spect. Anyhow, he’ll be right pleased we found you tonight, and the moon’s up good, so we’ll get ourselves out of town. Let the Jessups send word they found you and deal with things here. When they get the money, Pa’ll let them bring you back to your man. By that time Pa and me should be a good ways gone.”

“And where will I be until this fine plan is finished? The accommodations here are pretty poor. If it rains again, this shed will likely float away.”

“Pa and me, and the Jessups, will take you with us in the boat. The Jessups’ll come on back tomorrow. The boys have a place out in the bayous where we can hole up. Won’t be more than a day or two, you know. Just till Pa has money enough to get us away.”

“Unless he gambles it away again and there’s nothing left.” Lucienne sat up as far as her confined situation permitted. “Dorcas, why don’t you just untie me? We can slip out of here, go to Grandmère’s house, and you’ll never have to do this sort of thing again. I know my family will help you. You don’t have to be afraid of your papa. You don’t even have to see him again.”

“No, Miss Lucy Ann, I cain’t hardly do that.” Dorcas shook her head, her brown hair bobbing with the force of her answer.

“You don’t have to be afraid, honestly, Dorcas. We’d keep you safe.”

“It’s not that, Miss Lucy Ann. Not that I’m afraid to leave.” Her blue eyes darkened, as if to deny her words, but she drew herself up with determination. “I do get a mite scared of Pa when he’s losin’ and can’t stop gamblin’, that’s true, ’cause he cain’t help hisself. He’s got the devil’s own temper, and sometimes he makes me do things I don’t want to do. But I couldn’t just take off on him, not like my ma did when I was little.” She reached out, as if to ask for Lucienne’s understanding. “Who’d take care of him? Who’d see after him when he gets hisself into some mess and cain’t get out? No, Miss Lucy Ann, I best just stay here and look out for Pa, ’cause we ain’t either one got another soul in this world who cares about us.” She patted Lucienne’s arm. “Now don’t you worry yourself. We’ll have you home, safe and sound, in just a day or so. And Mister Dupre is gonna be so glad to have you back where he can see to you, why, I bet you can ask for most anything and he’ll break his neck to see you get it.”

An exchange of male voices drew their attention outside. A moment later, Price himself lurched through the listing doorway.

“Pa?” Dorcas turned to face him. “You see we found Miss Lucy Ann. Ever’thing go all right tonight?”

Price stared down at Lucienne with something that was half relief and half undisguised greed narrowing his small, hard eyes. His red face had a bristle of whiskers, and the stale odor of cheap alcohol surrounded him.

“Go all right?” A rough, sardonic laugh ran under his words. “Couldn’t rightly have gone much worse, girl. Card sharks, that’s what they were, ever’ one of ’em. Let me win till I was ahead enough to matter, then suckered me into one more hand, cheated so I lost, and suckered me in again.” He looked once more at Lucienne. “Better hope that Dupre fella wants her back real bad, ’cause it’s gonna cost him. We got to get us a stake to leave on, and I owe a couple of those fellers more’n Dupre ever offered in the first place.” He leaned out into the dark and whistled. The Jessups’ huge boots pounded on the ground as they came in answer. “Boys, you get that girl down to the boat, and don’t be slow about it. Make sure she cain’t holler or kick the sides of the cart. We don’t need no attention drawn this direction right now.” He looked back at his daughter. “And don’t you go feelin’ sorry for that little girl, either. Remember, it’s her family that got us into this situation, and it’s only right that some member of it serve to get us out. Hear me, girl. It’s only right.”

Chapter Fifteen:

Where Water and Land Are One

Lucienne tried to roll onto her side to ease the pressure on her back and neck. The flesh above her elbows was swollen where the cords had cut her circulation. She had no feeling at all in her hands and feet. If she’d had a chance to run, or a place to go, she couldn’t have managed a step. How much longer would Price and his crew go on? The boat cut silently through water thick with duckweed and marsh grass as it had for what seemed more hours than a night could last.

“You doin’ all right there, Miss Lucy Ann?” Dorcas leaned across the flat-bottomed craft to ask. Lucienne shook her head and held up her bound hands as best she could. Dorcas nodded and gave her a sympathetic pat on the shoulder. “Not much longer now. When we get there, I can get you loose. Not much place for you to run off to, not out in this swamp.”

Grimly Lucienne had to agree. A pale slice of moon put little light over the vast monochrome view. In shades of black and grey the restless bayou slipped past the sides of the boat. Ghostly veils of Spanish moss hung down almost to her head. Ancient trees arched the stream sides, trees buried deep in water made eerie by shadows beneath the sluggish current. Night birds and small insects filled the air with a melancholy song. In the distance some water creature splashed. Something, Lucienne guessed an alligator, made long ripples through the grasses.

“House yonder,” one of the Jessups announced.

The crude boat turned into a narrower byway. Lucienne didn’t know how the men could see the slight opening, but they poled through the clogged water and into a stream. A warped landing dock, only a black shadow in the grey water, stretched a crooked finger out into the marsh. Abruptly the bow bucked against it. Price jumped from the boat, leaving the Jessups to toss out a line and make it fast to the stump of a fallen tree. Dorcas wriggled over the side.

“Orman, you go and get Miss Lucy Ann and bring her along. Careful how you carry her, now. She’s not feelin’ too bright, what with bein’ tied like a yearling and pushed against the side of that stinkin’ boat for all this time.” She waited, hands on her hips, for him to follow instructions. He looked mulishly at Lucienne, lantern jaw jutting forward, then back at Dorcas. At last he stepped back into the boat. Lucienne was sure they would sink or turn over from the uneven weight Jessup added. The flimsy craft tilted with a drunken lurch as the man reached for her. With no effort at all he raised her to her feet and draped her over his shoulder.

“Got her,” he said with no inflection.

“Take her to the house, then.”

The path to the house, if there was one, was invisible to Lucienne. She felt the bounce of every step as the man strode along. The ground, marshy and dank, made sucking sounds at each of his footsteps. She saw no sign of a building until she was abruptly dropped from his shoulder to a splintery doorstep. With her feet still bound and all feeling gone, Lucienne couldn’t keep her balance and promptly sank down in a heap.

“You ain’t takin’ no care of her at all,” Dorcas spat at the man. “Here, Miss Lucy Ann, let me get you undone. Your pore feet must be all needles and pins.” She untied the kerchief that covered Lucienne’s mouth and tucked her skirts up a few inches to find the knots that rubbed against Lucienne’s boots. Nimble fingers loosened the ankle bindings and then turned to the cords around Lucienne’s waist and hands. Pain sharp as hot knives flooded Lucienne. The ground tilted at a sickening angle.

“You gonna faint?” Dorcas rubbed Lucienne’s hands vigorously. “Look at how swole up you are! I swan, you got no blood at all in those pore fingers.”

As her vision cleared, Lucienne welcomed the pain in her hands and feet. Anything was better than feeling so helpless. She gritted her teeth and tried to stand. Dorcas held her up, one sturdy arm around her waist. “Can you take a step or two?” she asked anxiously. “Where’s a place for Miss Lucy Ann to rest, Mort? She’s a lady and not used to such rough livin’ as you got here. She needs a bed and a little privacy.”

“Bed in there,” the bearded brother growled.

“Come along, Miss Lucy Ann. Can you make it over to that door? I’ll get one of the boys to carry you in, iffen you need me to.”

“I can walk,” Lucienne croaked. She’d had all the assistance she wanted from the Jessup brothers.

The bed was nothing more than a coarse bag of straw spread across a frame of tightly drawn ropes. A faded quilt covered it, but there was no pillow. If possible, it was less luxurious than the thin cot Lucienne had used at the convent. Still it was better than the rickety bench standing near the far wall. She let Dorcas help her to the bed and sank into its meager comfort.

“You just rest yourself, Miss Lucy Ann, and I’ll get you water and see if there’s somethin’ in the house to eat. Some coffee for you, maybe.” Dorcas started to pull the patched quilt up over Lucienne. “Or should we get those boots off first? Help that swellin’ in your feet.” She unfastened Lucienne’s half-boots with difficulty but at last drew them off. “Now, I’ll get you a drink and see about some food and that coffee.”

Lucienne had never tasted coffee like the vile black brew Dorcas brought her in a tin mug. Coffee at home was tempered with warm milk, sweetened, and served in dainty cups half the size of the vessel Dorcas handed her. “Watch out, now. That cup’s pretty hot.” Lucienne sat up, barely managing the awkward mug with fingers still stiff and swollen. She sipped the bitter liquid, grimacing at the taste but grateful for it.

“I found some fatback to fry, and some grits,” Dorcas told her. “And I sliced off some of that bread you had and I’m gonna brown it in the drippin’s. It ain’t the fancy kind of supper you’re used to, miss, but it’ll keep the body going.”

The plate of food wouldn’t have been permitted on her mother’s table or even in the whitewashed quarters behind the big house, but Lucienne devoured what Dorcas brought her with a good appetite. It had been a very long time since she shared breakfast with Sister Mary Agnes at the convent.

“Pa and the boys are out on the stoop talkin’ big about what they’re gonna do tomorrow.” Dorcas pulled the low bench close to the bed and spoke in a muffled voice. “I think Pa’s goin’ to go into town with Orman, ’cause Orman’s a tad brighter than Mort. Mort’s gonna stay here with us till the money’s paid. Then Pa and Orman’ll come back here. We’ll head back in the boat soon as it’s dark, and the boys’ll take you back to town. Me and Pa will go on our way soon as the boys bring us the money. I’m a little worried about leavin’ you with the Jessups. They’re just dumb enough to get themselves into trouble, but I don’t rightly see what I can do to change things, Miss Lucy Ann. Pa ain’t listenin’ to me, not a-tall, right now. The gamblin’ fever’s got him bad this time.”

“We could slip away tomorrow, when that big ox isn’t looking,” Lucienne suggested. “You and I could do it. And you could meet up with your papa in town.”

“Cain’t do it, Miss Lucy Ann. I ain’t got the least idea how to get us out of this bayou. It all looks just alike to me, one stream running into another. Like as not, we’d get ourselves et up by those big ’gators prowling around out there.”

****

Armand Dupre had no appetite for the enticing tray set before him. He was weary to the marrow of his bones, weary in body and mind, from a fruitless search of the streets and narrow
calles
of New Orleans. He sat back in his chair, the food before him untouched. He pushed the tray aside to pick up the black kitten batting the tassel on the cushion of his chair.

“But you must eat, m’sieu,” Marie protested. “You can’t go on looking for Lucienne if your strength gives out.”

Armand gave her a look of resignation and continued to stroke the silken black ears. The kitten purred loudly and wrapped black paws around his hand. “Have you fussed over Lucienne like a mother hen so long that you transfer your clucking to the next person available when she’s absent?”