Destiny's Daughter (10 page)

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"Slower," Hattie Lee commanded.

Annalisa slowed her walk, balancing a Bible on her head. When the black woman had ordered her to produce a heavy book, the Bible was the only one available. Neither woman thought it incongruous that Annalisa was being groomed to behave seductively toward men while balancing a Bible on her head.

"Straighten your shoulders."

Annalisa obeyed, unconsciously tucking in her stomach, thrusting out her chest. Hattie Lee smiled her approval. As the young woman turned, the book began to slip.

"Smoother. Bring your head around without that jerking movement."

Annalisa adjusted the book among the strips of rag that had been twisted into her hair earlier that morning. Annalisa’s hips began to undulate as she crossed the room. Hattie Lee grinned.

"Good. Now do that five more times without letting the book fall. I’m going downstairs to see to the pressing of your gown."

"Hattie Lee." Annalisa stood in the middle of the room, trying to balance the Bible on her head. "I’m not ready yet. Can’t we wait until next week?" she asked pleadingly.

Hattie Lee studied the slender figure. There was no hint of a softening in her features. Since she had assumed the role of tutor, there was no trace of the woman who had crooned lullabies on a back-porch swing, or tucked a sleeping child beneath a down comforter. She had hardened herself against showing any sympathy toward her young charge. The lives of everyone in this house were in the hands of this innocent. It was up to Hattie Lee to educate her as quickly as possible.

"We’ve already made the announcement that the new owner would present herself tonight. Gentlemen will be coming from the outlying plantations. There is great curiosity about you." She opened the door. "This old house will be so crowded, we’ll hardly be able to move, child. Business should be very good."

When the door closed behind her, Annalisa snatched the Bible from her head and wearily tossed it onto her bed, where it landed with a soft thud. Tonight. In a few hours. Nibbling on a knuckle, she walked to the window and stared out at the late afternoon sunshine dappling the rose garden. How could she have allowed herself to be talked into this? She had no business being here. She should have followed her first instincts and taken the next boat back to Natchez. Those men would know. One look and they would realize that she didn’t belong here. They would laugh at her, ridicule her for her clumsiness.

Kicking a toe against the wall, she brooded. Hadn’t she warned Hattie Lee that she had a history of making a fool of herself? Without going into detail, she had tried to tell the black woman about her awkwardness. But Hattie Lee had refused to listen. She seemed convinced that Annalisa would be up to the task set for her.

At a knock on the door she called, "Come in."

Several maids entered, carrying buckets of warm water. "Miss Hattie Lee says it’s time for you to get ready," one of the girls said.

"Thank you." Annalisa ignored her fluttering heart and began undressing. Stepping into the tub, she sank into the warm water and began to soap herself. Long after her bath was completed, she continued to lie back, willing her nerves to stop jumping. When Hattie Lee entered with the freshly pressed gown, she found Annalisa, head back, eyes closed.

"I know you’re too nervous to be asleep."

The eyes blinked open.

"Sweet Lord Almighty. Dry yourself, child. There’s work to be done."

Obediently, Annalisa stepped from the tub and began toweling herself dry. When she walked to the bed, Hattie Lee set out an assortment of undergarments. When her chemise and pantelets were in place, the older woman wrapped a corset about her waist and turned her around. While the laces were tightened, Annalisa gave a grunt of pain.

"We never had to wear these instruments of torture in the convent."

"In a few years you would have been as fat as the rest of them," Hattie Lee said, pulling the laces even tighter. "Your stomach would have become the size of a watermelon, and your bosom would have sagged to meet it. And you’d walk around with your hands folded over your bulging middle, wearing nothing but a shapeless habit."

Grabbing at the bedpost, Annalisa took the last deep breath she would enjoy for hours. "It’s too tight, Hattie Lee. I can’t breathe."

"Suck it in, child. You have another inch to go." When the laces were secure, the black woman lifted the rich crimson gown over Annalisa’s head and let it skim over her corseted figure. The sleeves were full to the elbow, then tapered to the wrist with a dozen jet buttons. The neckline was wickedly low, leaving her shoulders bare, displaying the softly rounded tops of her breasts. The waist was so tiny it showed off her figure to its best advantage. The full skirt fell in graceful folds to brush the tops of her satin slippers.

Working the rags from her hair, Hattie Lee brushed the thick tresses until they fell in gleaming waves to below her shoulders. Pulling her hair back from the left side of her face with jeweled combs, Hattie Lee allowed it to fall softly over Annalisa’s right shoulder, where it dipped provocatively across her breast.

As the young woman walked to the mirror to study her reflection, Hattie Lee removed a necklace from a box on the bed and fastened it around Annalisa’s neck.

Annalisa gave a little gasp and touched a hand to the fiery rubies surrounded by winking diamonds twisted into a figure eight. "Hattie Lee. They’re magnificent. Wherever did you get them?"

"They were your mama’s."

Her eyes rounded. "But how could she afford such a thing?"

"She said they were your papa’s gift to her when they married. Through all the terrible times, she refused to sell them, even though she knew they’d bring a great sum. And when she was robbed and beaten and left for dead, though the man who abused her tore the matching earrings from her lobes, she still refused to reveal these. They were hidden in a pocket of her gown."

"But why?"

The older woman’s voice deepened with emotion. "Because she wanted something of his, something from their happier times to give to her baby. So you would know something of their love."

Swallowing the lump in her throat, Annalisa turned and kissed the older woman’s cheek. "Thank you. I will treasure these always. But..." Removing them from her throat, she set them on the dresser. ". . .I don’t feel worthy to wear my mother’s jewels yet."

Turning away quickly, Hattie Lee busied herself for long moments at the bed. Then, looking up, she said gruffly, "It’s time, child."

Annalisa ran a tongue over lips gone suddenly dry. She tried to take a breath, but the corset made it impossible. Fighting waves of panic, she crossed to the door. Opening it, she could hear the clink of crystal, the drone of voices, the occasional lilt of laughter two floors below. Glancing at the older woman, she tried to smile and felt her lips tremble.

"Go on now."

Lifting her chin, Annalisa opened the door and walked to the head of the stairs.

"Wait. You forgot this." Hattie Lee hurried to her side with an ornate lace fan inlaid with mother-of-pearl.

Annalisa stared at it a moment, then snapped it open and fanned herself with a graceful gesture. Lifting the fan to her face, she raised wide tawny eyes to Hattie Lee’s, then snapped it shut. Draping the tassled cord over her wrist, she lifted the skirt of her gown and descended the stairs. When she reached the second floor, the sounds were louder, clearer. She heard a man’s voice, low, deep, and Gabrielle’s distinct Creole response. Somewhere in the background, someone laughed. She thought it was Delia’s sweet, childish laughter.

Annalisa paused at the head of the stairs, fighting to calm her wildly beating heart. In two steps, her feet would be visible to those below. In ten steps, she would be halfway down the curving staircase. And in ten more, she would be in their midst, enduring the introductions to dozens of strangers.

How could she possibly remember all the instructions she’d been given? Straightening her shoulders, she raised her head and imagined a book balancing there. Lifting her skirts slightly, she took a step. Her heart leaped to her throat and threatened to choke her. Swallowing, she took another step. At that moment, someone rang the bell. As she took a third step, she heard the door open and a man’s deep voice called a word of greeting to the newcomer. At the next step, she heard a murmur ripple through the crowded room. The clinking of crystal ceased. The laughter faded. The voices died. The entire roomful of people became silent.

Pausing on the next step, Annalisa was aware of a sea of faces. All heads were lifted, all eyes unblinking, watching her. Her palms began to sweat, and she wished she could pause and wipe them on her skirt. She forced herself to take another step, and another. She started to bite at her lip, then remembered what Hattie Lee had told her. Smile. No matter what turmoil was twisting inside, she must smile. Her lips parted slightly, then lifted upward into a hesitant smile. The toe of her slipper caught in her hem, and she stopped to lift her skirt higher. Careful. She mustn’t trip now. She felt almost giddy with fear. It left a cold, metallic taste in her mouth. She was almost there. Another step. And then another. At the next-to-last stair, she paused and dropped a hand gracefully to the banister. As Hattie Lee had instructed, Annalisa allowed her gaze to sweep the room. So many faces. So many eyes watching her. Her smile grew until it was dazzling. The entire crowd seemed to hold its breath as the beautiful young woman offered them the benediction of her smile. And then, as Hattie Lee had suggested, Annalisa allowed her gaze to sweep the room once more before settling on just one person. Those brilliant topaz eyes danced with an inner light, then focused on the man directly in front of her, the one who had just entered the room as she was descending the stairs. She thought she heard a slight intake of breath. Had it been hers? With the entire assembly watching her, she found herself staring into the dark, knowing eyes of the one man she had hoped she’d never have to see again—Chase Masters.

Annalisa-By-God-Montgomery. Too stunned to react, Chase wondered if anyone around him could see the evidence of the shock he was feeling. He stood, rooted to the spot, watching a vision in yards of scarlet satin walk practically into his waiting arms. If possible, she was even more beautiful than he’d remembered. But then, the last time he’d seen her, she’d been wearing dresses buttoned clear up to her throat, and silly bonnets hiding those rich auburn tresses, passing herself off as a candidate for the convent. A nun. He nearly laughed aloud. What an actress. What an amazing, calculating little fake. She was a con artist. Maybe as good as any he’d met. Almost as good as he.

The laughter was there in his eyes, though he kept his features perfectly controlled. He held out his hand. She seemed to hold back a moment, undecided, before reluctantly accepting it.

There was a hint of laughter coloring his voice as well. "Miss Montgomery. How—nice to see you again. You’re looking extremely lovely."

Feeling the jolt at their touch, Annalisa forced herself to show absolutely no emotion. "Thank you, Mr. Masters. What a pleasant surprise."

He saw the look that flashed in her eyes and knew she was anything but pleased. "The pleasure is mine." His smile grew. "I couldn’t resist coming here tonight to meet the mysterious new owner of Hannah Elliott’s House of Pleasure."

When she tried to pull her hand away, Chase tightened his grip, forcing her to walk along by his side.

"May I handle the introductions? I believe I know everyone here." He began to lead her into the crowd without waiting for her reply.

Annalisa was about to tell him in no uncertain terms what he could do with his introductions, but a sharp elbow in the back from Hattie Lee caused her to suck in her breath.

"Why, thank you, Mr. Masters." She forced a sugary smile to match the tone of her voice. "That’s very kind of you."

Behind her, Hattie Lee crossed her arms in satisfaction and continued to hover until she was certain that Annalisa would behave herself. Then she scurried away in haste.

"Gentlemen," Chase said solemnly, "I present Miss Annalisa Montgomery."

The crowd pressed forward, eager for introductions, which Chase handled smoothly.

"This is Edmond Lafourcade, soon, he hopes, to be our new mayor."

Annalisa smiled at the tall, angular man with a thin black mustache. His eyes were heavy lidded, giving him a sleepy expression.

"Monsieur Lafourcade," she said, offering her hand.

As his lips brushed her knuckles, he said in an unexpectedly high-pitched voice, "Call me Edmond, please. I hope that we will become—close friends."

She had to call on all her willpower to keep from recoiling as his lips touched her flesh. "That is my wish as well."

As they moved away, Annalisa whispered, "How could a man like that be elected mayor?"

"You don’t care for Edmond?" Chase chuckled. "He will be elected because certain people in positions of power want him where he can be useful."

"And what of the ordinary people of the city whom he should represent?"

"To the men who hold power, the ordinary people don’t exist." Chase stopped in front of a powerfully built man with graying hair and scraggly chin whiskers. He was holding a crystal tumbler brimming with whiskey. His left arm was around Delia’s waist, his muscular build making Delia look even more like a child.

"I’d like you to meet Emile Soulet," Chase said.

The man downed his drink in one swallow, handed the empty tumbler to a maid, then pressed his lips to Annalisa’s outstretched hand.

"Miss Montgomery. I hope you will prove to be as—practical a woman as your mother."

She nearly reeled from the stench of whiskey on his breath. Forcing a smile, she said, "I hope so too, Mr. Soulet. I don’t believe I know what you do."

"Emile is the chief inspector on the wharf," Chase put in smoothly. "Without his approval, nothing enters or leaves the port of New Orleans."

The big man seemed to puff his chest even further. Beside him, Delia smiled sweetly and clung to his brawny arm.

"Madame Sara was always very respectful of my authority," he said with importance.

And wise enough to know that in order to import her cigars, whiskey, works of art, and bolts of fabric, she needed the approval of this man, Annalisa realized. Unable to bear the assault of his breath any longer, Annalisa flipped open her fan and began fanning the air furiously, as she continued to smile at him. "I would be a fool not to follow my mother’s example, would I not?" She batted her eyelashes the way Gabrielle had taught her and realized that Chase was watching her closely. Instantly she dropped her fan to her side, feeling rather silly.

She was relieved when Soulet went in search of another drink. The man who stepped forward seeking an introduction was as different from the wharf inspector as day is from night.

"Annalisa, may I present Nate Blackwell."

"Mr. Blackwell."

Her hand was caught in a firm grip. His lips brushed softly over the back of her fingers. The blue eyes that looked down into hers were friendly, despite the dark smudges that marked either illness or lack of sleep.

"Do you live in town, Mr. Blackwell?"

"I have a place some miles from here."

His deep voice was cultured. Annalisa felt instinctively that this was a man of breeding.

"What do you do, Mr. Blackwell?"

"I’m afraid the sorry state of my land takes up all my time. I’ve managed to put in a few crops this season, and I hope for more by this time next year."

"Ah. A farmer. Do you have much land?"

Beside her, Chase gave a low rumble of laughter. "Nate is the grandson of one of the largest landowners in the region. His plantation stretches for miles."

"I’m impressed," she murmured, looking at him with interest.

"Don’t be. Most of my buildings were burned, my livestock stolen or slaughtered. The tools needed for planting and repairing were looted. The rebuilding process is proving to be a long one. I wonder if anyone gave a thought to the toll that would be exacted in our war?" His tone was bleak for a moment, then he brightened. "Enough talk of war. Welcome to New Orleans, Miss Montgomery. It’s gratifying to know that this house will continue to offer a civilized haven."

When a maid approached, he accepted a glass of sherry and lifted it in a salute. "To you, Miss Montgomery. And to civility."

With a graceful flourish, he turned away and was swallowed up in the crowd.

Annalisa turned to Chase. "Such a fine man. Yet I sense a weariness about him."

"The war haunts us all."

Annalisa shot him a sideways glance. Could anything possibly haunt this lighthearted rogue?

Leading her smoothly through the crush of people, Chase continued the introductions, until Annalisa’s head was swimming with names and titles. There was the governor, a smooth, oily little man who stared at her bosom until she flicked her fan, narrowly missing his nose. Beside him, his aide, Charles Montagnet, moved forward stiffly and accepted the introduction in silence. He was tall, with slightly stooped shoulders and dark brooding eyes. His gaze slowly skimmed Annalisa, beginning with her hair, and lingering over her body, then returning to settle on her mouth. Annalisa felt as if he had physically touched her. The thought left her shaken. There was a hardness, a cruelty in his eyes that instantly repelled her.

"Monsieur Montagnet," she said, feeling a trembling revulsion as he brushed his lips over her outstretched hand.

Why did she have the vague feeling that she had seen him before? Surely she would remember such a man. And yet, as she walked away beside Chase Masters, she continued to feel a tingling along the back of her neck. The man truly frightened her.

She stood beside Chase, receiving the introductions for over two hours. Hattie Lee saw that the maids continued circulating, offering refreshment and cigars. When a maid approached them, Chase accepted a tumbler of whiskey and noticed that Annalisa refused a tulip glass of champagne.

"Would you prefer whiskey?" he asked, reaching for a cigar.

"I’ve never tasted it," she said softly. Unaware of the look of disbelief on his face, she reached a taper to a candle and held the light toward his cigar. Among her many lessons in the past week had been the art of lighting a man’s cigar, as well as learning the names of the many fine liquors.

"I think you’ll enjoy this, Mr. Masters. We serve only the best cigars."

He stiffened for a moment, as if about to say something. Then, thinking better about it, he leaned toward her. As he took several drags on the cigar, he continued staring at her. In the candle glow, her cheeks were flushed, her skin flawless. Little corkscrew tendrils of hair kissed her forehead and throat, and he had an unreasonable desire to reach out and touch them. Instead he curled his fingers around the cigar and blew out a stream of smoke.

She extinguished the taper and dropped it on a maid’s tray. Glancing up, she found him staring at her with an intense look.

"What’s wrong?"

"Nothing." He took a long drink of whiskey, enjoying the way it burned his throat and sent warmth snaking along his insides.

"The finest whiskey, too," she said with pride. "I’m told our clientele will accept nothing less than the best."

She saw the smile return to his eyes and had the strangest feeling that he was laughing at her.

"Have I said something funny?"

"Forgive me, Miss Montgomery. It’s just that I . . ."

"Here you are," Hattie Lee said, pushing through the crowd. Stopping beside Chase, she lowered her voice. "It’s all checked and accounted for. You and Annalisa can settle up in her office."

"Settle up?"

"I’d prefer we talk somewhere more private," Chase said, abruptly taking her arm and nudging her through the crush of people.

"My office is . . ."

"I know where your office is," he said through his smile as he continued leading her across the room.

Once in the hallway she stopped and yanked her arm from his grasp. "Just what is this all about?"

"I said we’ll speak in private." He caught her arm and began dragging her along the hallway toward the back of the house.

Annalisa dug in her heels. "Mr. Masters ..."

"The name is Chase. And we’ll talk in here." Opening the door to her office, he shoved her inside, then pulled the door closed and turned the lock.

Annalisa had no idea what Chase Masters was up to, but she was determined to keep the upper hand. Seeing the way he leaned against the door with his arms crossed over his chest, she stiffened her spine and walked to her desk. Taking a seat, she indicated a pair of chairs drawn up on either side of her desk. "Would you care to be seated?"

"Thank you." Chase sat down, crossing his long legs at the ankle in a careless, relaxed pose.

Annalisa was reminded of a picture she had seen of an East Indian snake charmer. Chase was like the cobra—lulled for the moment, but deadly all the same. There was nothing relaxed or careless about Chase Masters.

"Now." She picked up a pen and nervously tapped it against her fingers. "Just what was it that Hattie Lee counted, and what are we supposed to be settling up?"

He wondered if this businesslike pose was just another act. Who the hell was she? Madame in this house of pleasure? Actress? Educated business woman? Innocent? He dismissed the latter. No one in this house could be innocent.

"A shipment," Chase said, watching her eyes.

"A shipment? Of what?"

Reaching into his breast pocket, he unfolded a paper. Reading from it, he said, "Coffee from Brazil—fifty pounds. Perfume from France—ten bottles." He leaned menacingly over the desk. "I hope it’s as good as that fragrance you’re wearing. Makes me weak."

She shot him an icy stare, but before she could reply, he added, "And cigars from Havana—two cases." With a twinkle in his eye, he added, "Nothing but the best for your—clientele."

She felt the blush coloring her cheeks. Reaching out a hand, she said, "May I see the bill of lading please?"

He handed it to her and watched while she looked it over. When she looked up, he was still boldly studying her.

"You must have enjoyed hearing me boast, knowing you were the one who supplied the fine things I was taking credit for. Did I amuse you?"

"You continually amuse me, Miss Montgomery."

"Why were these things delivered tonight?"

"Because I knew Soulet would be here instead of at the docks. It seemed a good joke to bring in a shipment under his very nose without his knowledge."

"Is Mr. Soulet a problem?"

Chase watched a cloud of smoke curl over his head before answering. "Soulet is a minor irritation."

"How do I keep him from causing trouble?"

"You could outsmart him. He’s not the brightest man I’ve ever met."

"And if I don’t manage that?"

"Money," Chase said quickly. "In this town, everyone demands money for their favors."

"And if I pay him what he demands, he allows my goods to come into port?"