Destiny's Daughter (6 page)

The man drew on a shirt of finest lawn and carefully adjusted the jewels at his cuffs. The night had not gone as he’d planned. First the little innocent had slipped away from him once again, because some fool gambler had stumbled across him before he could break into her cabin. He’d had to make do with one of the more available women aboard. She hadn’t satisfied him. The loose ones never did. The pleasure was in the battle. He wanted a woman who would be shocked, outraged, shamed. He wanted her to fight, to scream, to cry and beg. Pulling on his impeccably tailored jacket, he strode across the room and slammed the door. At the upper railing he studied the crowd milling about below and felt his blood begin to heat. He wouldn’t lose her this time.

*  *  *

Early morning light filtered through the small window of the cabin, warming the figure curled in the bunk. The shuffling of footsteps, the muffled voices outside her cabin brought her to an instant awareness. Annalisa sat up, rubbing her eyes. New Orleans. The ship had docked.

As she tossed back the covers and swung her feet to the floor, the memory of last night came rushing back. She froze. A member of the crew would be coming to take her to the captain. He would want to know all about that horrible scene in the salon. What would she say? What defense could she offer for her behavior? She’d already decided she couldn’t tell him about Chase and possibly incriminate herself as well. With a sigh of disgust, she began dressing. There was only one thing to do. She had to get off this ship before they came for her.

Pulling on a dark gingham traveling dress and bonnet, she finished packing. When she was through, she opened her cabin door and glanced about carefully. Seeing no one, she dragged the heavy trunk from her cabin and began inching along the narrow companionway toward the prow of the ship where a gangway bustled with activity.

With her back and knees bent in an awkward position, she struggled under the weight of the trunk, refusing to stop or even slow down. Her only hope was to escape before the crew had a chance to discover her missing. With her breath coming in short gasps, she tugged her heavy burden around the comer and slammed into a solid wall of muscle.

"Going somewhere?"

Strong arms caught and pinned her. Even before she looked up, she knew that the deep voice could only belong to Chase.

"I’m going home." She saw the gleam in his eye and pushed herself free of his grasp.

He found himself staring at her as if seeing her in a new light. Something strange had happened last night in her cabin. The moment he’d kissed her, this little slip of a girl had left him stunned and reeling. A spark had ignited between them that was still smoldering this clear, bright morning. Chase Masters wasn’t the sort of man who was knocked off his feet by a woman. And especially one as young as this. More girl than woman, he suspected. But he still couldn’t quite convince himself that she wasn’t just a cunning actress.

"In a bit of a hurry, aren’t you?"

"Yes. Now let me pass."

He glanced down at the trunk. "There are crew members to take care of that."

Avoiding his eyes, she muttered, "I didn’t want to bother them. I can manage."

She heard the warmth of laughter in his voice. "I do declare, Miss Montgomery. I believe you’re trying to avoid meeting with the captain of this vessel."

Her eyes flashed. "And what if I am? Do you want me to tell him about you?"

"Just what would you be able to tell him about a fellow passenger?"

"That you’re a cheat, Chase Masters. A low-down, dirty, thieving gambler who tried to enlist my aid in your little scheme."

Chase threw back his head and roared. "My, my, sister. How you do talk. Does everyone in the convent use such slanderous language?"

Catching up the handle of the trunk, she ignored his taunts. "Let me pass."

"There’s no need to worry."

As she struggled with her baggage, Chase’s voice deepened. "Let it go, Annalisa."

At his commanding tone she glanced up.

"I happen to know a few people in high places." He bit the end of a cigar. "I’ve arranged for you to avoid your—interrogation by the captain."

As he held a flame to the tip, she straightened and studied him. A little sigh of relief threatened to escape. She checked it. This wasn’t a man who would do such a thing merely out of the goodness of his heart. "You were afraid of what I’d tell him, weren’t you?"

"Afraid?" His eyes glittered with amusement. "And I foolishly thought you’d be grateful that I’d used my influence to keep your name free of scandal."

"Gratitude!" she sputtered. "I owe you nothing, Chase Masters. Whatever you did, you only did it because you stood to gain something from it."

Chase’s eyes narrowed as he watched her through a stream of smoke. "Let’s just say I thought it would be better for both of us if you could avoid discussing last night’s little incident."

As a member of the crew approached, Chase stopped him. "Take the lady’s trunk to the dock." Turning to Annalisa, he offered his arm. Once again, she found she had no choice but to accept. Placing her hand on his sleeve, she felt it engulfed in his warm, firm hand as she walked stiffly beside him. Her frown grew as he cheerfully acknowledged fellow passengers who strode by.

"You," she sneered under her breath, "passing yourself off as a fine gentleman."

"Then we have something in common," he said, glancing down at her.

"What?"

His smile widened as he tipped his hat to a beautiful woman who approached. In an aside, he whispered, "You almost had me believing you were a lady."

He felt her hand tighten, but she refused to take the bait. She offered instead stony silence.

As they neared the railing, Annalisa once again had the feeling that she was being watched. A chill passed through her, almost as if, she thought, a dark cloud had just covered the sun. The hair at her nape prickled.

Slowly turning, she scanned the sea of faces on the deck. A couple bent toward one another, she listening intently while he whispered in her ear. She giggled. He smiled knowingly. To Annalisa’s left, two gentlemen gestured toward the wharf. To Annalisa’s right, a father and mother fussed over their squalling baby. No one seemed to take any notice of the young woman with wind-tossed auburn curls who stood with her hand on Chase’s arm. Yet the feeling persisted. Someone was watching her. She trembled and glanced toward the upper deck. Instantly a shadow withdrew. He was there again. A man. A man watching her intently. Even though he was only a shadow, she sensed danger. Why did he watch her only from afar? Why did he not approach her, if he wanted to meet her? Did he mean her harm? The thought caused her to shiver and turn away.

"The breeze is cool. You should have brought a wrap."

Chase’s remark only angered her further. She wasn’t a child to be ordered about. And she certainly wasn’t his responsibility. She dismissed the feelings of gloom and shook her head. "I can take care of myself."

Only too well, he thought with grim amusement.

At the dock, Chase summoned a carriage. When her trunk was stowed, he helped her inside, then paid the driver. "Take the lady wherever she directs you," he said, emphasizing the word lady. Turning to Annalisa, he touched the rim of his hat. "It was a distinct pleasure meeting you, Miss Montgomery. Pleasant journey."

She shot him an icy stare. "Thank you, Mr. Masters."

The words nearly stuck in her throat. "I hope we don’t have the misfortune of meeting again."

He took a step back as the driver cracked his whip. The horse pranced smartly; the carriage lurched forward.

Nearby, a tall man in an expensive European waistcoat handed coins to a liveryman. "Follow the young lady’s carriage and report her residence to me."

At the glint of gold, the hungry driver smiled, showing gaping yellow teeth. "As good as done, sir."

Annalisa fought the urge to turn and glance one last time at the man who so infuriated her. It galled her to owe him even the slightest favor. Still, she thought with a sigh, he had spared her the humiliation of meeting with the captain. And he had arranged for her to leave with dignity. Impulsively, she turned. Chase was still standing on the dock, watching her. Then another rig blocked her view.

For long moments Chase stood, drawing deeply on his cigar, studying the carriage until it turned a corner and was out of sight. He swallowed a low rumble of laughter. What a fascinating, beguiling creature. She had certainly made this riverboat journey an interesting one. And a profitable one. Tossing aside his cigar, he signaled for a coach. No time to reflect. There was work to be done.

*  *  *

Annalisa’s carriage rolled along streets alive with wagons, carts, and pedestrians. As they left the busy waterfront, she watched the passing parade of colorfully dressed men and women, wondering, as she had so often through the lonely years, what her life would have been like if she’d been allowed to grow up here in this vital, bustling city.

As they traveled the narrow, cobbled streets of the Vieux Carré, Annalisa gazed at the mingling of French and Spanish cultures evident in the elaborate doorways and exotic grill-work. Everywhere there were brightly dressed women chattering in French, English, and dozens of Creole dialects. Annalisa found herself smiling as she caught snatches of the conversations. Though it seemed like a lifetime since she’d heard them, the words were familiar to her.

Leaving the teeming city behind, the carriage turned onto a wide avenue lined with towering oak festooned with Spanish moss. The houses here were well kept, with spacious rolling lawns and whitewashed fences. Annalisa sat straighter, studying each structure for something, anything recognizable. Would her old house be familiar? Had it been spared during the war? Would she know her own mother? And what of the aunts and cousins, the music and laughter of her memories? Did they really exist, or was this all a child’s dream, born of loneliness and fear?

The driver slowed, then flicked the reins, turning the horse and carriage into a wide drive that circled an imposing white house. Majestic, moss-laden oaks offered shade. Magnolia trees were heavy with blooms. Pink and scarlet azaleas made a splash of color along the front of the house. As they approached the front veranda, Annalisa felt her throat go dry. Vague, half-forgotten memories stirred, then came into sharp focus. She could recall a wide porch that wrapped around all four sides of this rambling house. Glancing up to the top floor, she had a sudden impression of a large room, with exposed rafters and a big feather bed. The fragrance of hundreds of flowers wafted on the breeze on still summer nights. As a small child she’d been showered with love and attention. This house had offered her security. All through the night there were the comforting sounds of murmured voices and muffled laughter, and far below, on the main floor, soft music and the tinkling of fine crystal.

Blinking, Annalisa realized the driver had halted the carriage and was holding out his hand. Accepting his help, she stepped down, all the while staring at the closed door at the top of the porch. Taking a deep breath, she lifted her skirts and climbed the steps of the veranda. She knocked and heard the sound reverberate inside. Hurried footsteps grew louder. And then the door was thrown open. A young girl dressed in a crisp white apron and cap opened the front door and stared silently. Before Annalisa could speak, a figure appeared behind the maid, motioning her away. Annalisa found herself staring at the strangest-looking woman she’d ever seen.

Of medium height, the woman wore a gaudy silk wrapper which showed off age-splotched arms. Her skin was no longer taut, falling in leathery wrinkles from her upper arms. Her breasts sagged, nearly meeting her bulging stomach. Every pudgy finger had a ring, all winking in the sunlight. Rubies, amethysts, emeralds, sapphires. Like her robe, they were a rainbow of colors. Her feet were bare, and her toenails were long and jagged. Her neck had little jowls that jiggled when she moved her head. A network of spidery lines etched the corners of her eyes and forehead. Her eyes seemed to contradict her body. Brilliant blue, they were alive, vital. But it was her hair that held Annalisa’s fascinated stare. Pulled into a scraggly topknot, it had been dyed nearly orange. Here and there, little tendrils of faded gray escaped, clinging damply to her neck and rouged cheeks.

"Are you Sara Montgomery?" Annalisa swallowed. Please, God, don’t let this creature be my mother.

"Me? Sara?" The old woman threw back her head and cackled. The wrinkles of her face lifted at the sound, and the folds of flesh at her neck bounced. "Nobody ever mistook me for Sara before."

At the sound of her laughter, a shadow appeared behind her and her smile faded. Touching a hand to her mouth, she said, "I forgot. I shouldn’t be making noise. I’ll disturb her."

The shadow lengthened, then became the taller figure of a handsome black woman. Annalisa found herself staring at a figure from her long-forgotten past.

The rainbow-woman pointed a finger. "She asked if I was Sara."

The black woman’s gaze trailed Annalisa’s trim figure with a professional eye, noting the cut of her clothes, the proud lift of her head. The glance flicked over her tangled curls, then lingered on the amber eyes. Something, some slight flicker of recognition altered the woman’s face.

"You didn’t come here looking for a job." A statement; not a question. The voice was rich, resonant, like a preacher.

"No. I came to see my mother. My name is Annalisa Montgomery."

"My sweet Lord."

It wasn’t the reaction Annalisa had expected. "Does my mother live here?"

The woman looked beyond her to the trunk in the carriage. Beside her, the orange-haired woman was studying Annalisa as if seeing a ghost. "Glory be. Our little Annalisa."

"Go along upstairs, Corinna." The black woman’s tone was commanding.

The blowzy woman gave Annalisa a smile and wink before turning away.

"Your letter arrived. We’ve been expecting you." Taking in a deep breath, the black woman called to the driver, "Bring her things. I’ll show you where to put them." Moving aside, she added quietly, "Come inside, child. I’ll take you to your mother."

Annalisa let out a sigh of relief. For a moment, she had thought this woman would refuse to admit her. In fact, she had the distinct feeling that her presence here was unsettling.

"I don’t remember your name," Annalisa said. "But I do seem to remember you. Did I know you when I was very young?"

"You did." The woman paused to allow the driver to enter. Speaking to a girl in an apron, she directed her to show him where to put the trunk. She waited in silence until he had deposited it and left. When they were alone she said softly, "My name is Hattie Lee."

"Hattie Lee." Annalisa tried out the name, hoping it would fill in the gaps. "Yes. You used to sing to me. And we used to laugh."

"That we did. You filled this house with laughter and childish shouts. You were a bright, inquisitive child." The honeyed voice lowered on a sigh. "So you’ve come home."

For the first time, Annalisa smiled. Home. What a lovely word. She nodded. "Yes, Hattie Lee, I’ve come home. And I’m eager to see my mother."

As she glanced around the beautifully appointed foyer, Hattie Lee touched her arm. "Before we go in to see your mama, there are a few things I want to tell you." Indicating the parlor, she said, "In here."

Following her, Annalisa gave a smile of approval. The hardwood floor was covered with an ornate Oriental rug. The furniture was plush, and obviously expensive. In the sunlight, crystal and silver gleamed behind the glass doors of hand- carved cabinets. A marble fireplace had been cleaned of winter ashes and filled with flowers and trailing ivy. Their fragrance wafted on the slight breeze coming in from the curtained windows.

"Sit, child."

Annalisa chose a Victorian chair of red velvet. Hattie Lee stood with her back to the fireplace. Crossing her arms over her ample bosom, she said, "What do you know of your former life here?"

"Nothing, I’m afraid. The sisters had no information to give me. But they assured me that my mother was a widow of means who wanted me to be educated."

"And what do you remember?"

"Very little." Annalisa smiled. "I remember you. And my mother. And a lot of cousins and aunts." Inhaling the heady scent of French perfume that lingered in the room, she sighed. "It’s so familiar, and yet vague. This wonderful fragrance." Her smile grew. "This room. I wasn’t allowed in here except in the late mornings, while it was being cleaned. Other than that," she shrugged, "not very much. But it will all come back in time."

The older woman took a deep breath. "When your mama received your letter, she took to her bed. Her health has always been delicate."

"But she is in no danger?"

Hattie Lee stared at a spot on the wall above Annalisa’s head. "The doctor is with her now. He’s concerned, child. Your mama is a fragile woman."

Agitated, Annalisa stood. "I want to see her."

"In a minute. We’ll wait until the doctor is finished with his examination." The dark eyes pinned her. "I know you think you’ve returned to a simple childhood home. But now that your education is complete, and you are grown, it’s time you knew the truth."

Annalisa fidgeted. "What is it, Hattie Lee? What are you trying to tell me?"

A young woman’s head poked around the doorway. "Has Jimmy come down yet?"

Hattie Lee seemed annoyed by the intrusion. "Not yet."

Seeing Annalisa, the girl stepped into the parlor. "What’s this? A new cousin?"

"Annalisa Montgomery," Hattie Lee said, "this is Gabrielle."

The stunning creature was tall and regal. She wore her lush black hair swept on top of her head, making the creamy column of throat appear even longer. Black eyes were a brilliant contrast to ivory skin. She was wearing a long silk robe of palest pink trimmed with crushed velvet roses. It was obvious that she wore nothing beneath the sheer wrap. Annalisa had never before seen a woman unselfconsciously display her body in such a fashion. She tried not to stare.

"Montgomery. Is this Sara’s daughter?"

Annalisa nodded, enjoying the musical Creole voice. "Who is Jimmy?"

"Dr. James Lynch. He visits our house regularly," the older woman said quickly.

"To check on my mother?"

While Gabrielle smiled, Hattie Lee answered, "He sees to the medical needs of everyone in the house."

"When he comes down, tell him I’m waiting to see him," the beautiful Creole woman said, walking from the room. Beneath the robe, her hips swayed provocatively. At the doorway she turned. "Welcome home, Annalisa. We’ll be seeing each other often."

When she was gone, Annalisa turned toward the frowning black woman. "Does Gabrielle live here, Hattie Lee?"

"Yes."

The girl’s eyes grew dreamy. "I remember a lot of cousins and aunts. Is she related to me?"

"Child ..." The woman stopped as she heard the footstep on the stairs. Both women turned toward the doorway as a tall, handsome man entered. Though he was probably no more than forty, his hair was completely white. It was a strange contrast to his ruddy complexion and piercing blue eyes.

Seeing the stranger, he lifted an inquiring eyebrow. Hattie Lee immediately handled the introductions. "Dr. Lynch, this is Annalisa Montgomery, Sara’s daughter."

He accepted her outstretched hand and studied her for long, silent moments.

"What’s wrong with my mother, Dr. Lynch?"

"Her heart, I suspect. Your mother has always been a fragile woman. The slightest exertion seemed to cause her great distress. In recent years, I’ve noticed her frail strength diminish even more." He glanced at the black bag gripped in his left hand. "Some people think I can conjure magic with my medicine." Exhaling softly, he added, "Damnation! At times like this, I wish I could."

Annalisa held herself very straight, refusing to give in to the icy fingers of fear that gripped her heart. "Are you telling me there is nothing you can do for my mother?"

"I’ve done all I can, Miss Montgomery. Your mother has fought long and hard against her weak heart. But I can offer you little hope."

He saw the fear a fraction before little flames of defiance flashed in her eyes. This one, he knew instinctively, was a scrapper. She turned to Hattie Lee. "I wish to see my mother at once."

The black woman glanced at the doctor, who wearily nodded his head. Resolutely, Hattie Lee lifted her skirts and said, "Follow me." As they began climbing the stairs, she paused and spoke to the doctor. "Gabrielle is waiting for you." Without waiting for his reply, she led Annalisa up the stairs to her mother’s bedroom at the back of the house.

Pausing outside the closed door, Hattie Lee whispered, "Don’t ask too many questions of her, child. Talking seems to tire her."

Annalisa stared at the door, then met Hattie Lee’s sharp gaze. "I’ll be content just to see her. To see if she’s the woman I’ve carried in my memory for so long."

The black woman opened the door, then took a step back, allowing Annalisa to pass her. As her eyes adjusted to the gloom, she heard the door close softly behind her.

Moving quickly across the room, Annalisa stared at the small figure in the bed. Soft brown hair shot with gray had been twisted into one fat braid that fell across her shoulder. The face was a small pale oval, with high cheekbones and perfectly sculpted mouth. The hands resting atop the blanket were small, with long, tapered fingers.

Perching on the edge of the bed, Annalisa took one of the hands in hers. Cold. Despite the heat of the day, they were so cold.

Eyelids fluttered, then opened. The eyes staring into hers were cool, pale amber. It was like looking into a mirror. The effect was shocking.

"Mother." Annalisa tried out the word, wondering how it would feel. It felt wonderful.

"Annalisa." The lips parted in a smile. Tiny lines appeared at the corners of her eyes as the smile touched all her features, making them animated. "Oh, Annalisa. How beautiful you are."