Gentleman's Trade (14 page)

Hugh nodded, well satisfied with what he’d observed. During the ride to the Chaumonde estate, he wouldn’t have been surprised if Wilmot had snubbed him. The fact that he didn’t might have been because of Vanessa’s presence; now he knew differently. Wilmot lacked the ability to deliver a direct cut. A man who could not do so was a man who feared one being turned in his direction. Interesting, Hugh mused, as the family came up beside him.

“Louisa!” cried Paulette excitedly, dancing up beside him and taking his arm. “This is Monsieur Talverton. He is an aristocrat from England,” she confided artlessly.

Hearty male laughter drew their attention to the steps. At the top stood Charles Chaumonde, his arms across his chest, laughing at his sister. Trevor Danielson stood at his side.

“Trust Paulette to cut to the heart of the matter to where her interest lies,” said her brother as he descended the steps.

Paulette pouted at him, which only caused Charles to laugh more. Coming up before her, he chucked her under the chin.

“You lack tact, my little sister. You should try for more of Vanessa’s sangfroid.”

His sally drew smiles from all and a light blush to Vanessa’s cheeks, but she rallied admirably.

“And you, dear brother, could do well to follow your own advice,” she said primly.

He shrugged expansively, then placed a chaste salute upon her cheek. “Ah, but I, little one, am a man,” he responded enigmatically before turning to shake hands with Hugh Talverton and Russell Wilmot while his wife sputtered indignantly.

Louisa shook her head in vexation, the deep red of her hair catching the morning sun. “Come,” she said, gesturing toward the house, “let’s go inside before he becomes too outrageous.” The arch look she cast her husband was full of exasperated love.

She led them into a large foyer with a magnificent freestanding curved staircase flanked by two servant women dressed primly in dove-colored dresses with starched white aprons. “Mr. Talverton, Mr. Wilmot, Ruth will show you to your rooms while Bessie and I lead my family to theirs. When you have freshened up, we will be serving a light repast in the dining room, and we can talk much more comfortably then. Ruth will show you the way when you are ready,” she said, smiling graciously. Behind her came the sound of the men taking the trunks and portmanteaux from the carriage.

“We’ll await you in the parlor,” Charles said, leading Trevor away.

Vanessa burst out laughing after Mr. Wilmot and Mr. Talverton disappeared upstairs. “Gracious, Louisa, you play the grand lady of the manor so elegantly!”

“One has to if one is going to socialize with and be accepted by the Creoles,” she conceded wryly.

‘Mais
, naturellement,”
said Paulette, her expression perplexed that Louisa should even need to make such a comment. “How else would it be?”

“Thus is the Creole conceit,” murmured Louisa, exchanging glances with her mother and sisters.

“Where is
Tante
Teresa?” asked Paulette.

Louisa laughed. “She follows Celeste’s example, she’s napping.”

“Is she still as big as a house?” Paulette demanded, laughing.

“Worse!” Louisa replied in horrified tones, causing all of them to laugh.

Richard Mannion harrumphed. “Enough nattering. What rooms are you going to put us in this time?”

“The same as last time,” his eldest daughter responded tranquilly.

He grunted acknowledgment and started up the stairs, followed by the women still talking. On the landing Amanda Mannion stopped and laid her hand on Louisa’s arm.

“Were you able to arrange matters for this evening satisfactorily?” she asked softly.

Vanessa, who was a step ahead, faltered, then proceeded slowly, straining to hear her sister’s response.

“Definitely,” she said, and there was a gleeful note to her voice. “And if I know our players right, it shall work out admirably.”

Amanda smiled and nodded.

“Coming, Mrs. Mannion?” Mr. Mannion called back as he stood at the entrance to their room.

“Yes, of course, dear. Louisa and I were merely discussing seeing little Celeste after luncheon.”

Vanessa’s jaw dropped slightly, but she closed it firmly as she looked between her mother and her sister. She knew perfectly well they were not discussing the baby, and she was very curious to know just what they were discussing. Her mind whirling, she dazedly followed Adeline and Paulette into the room they would be sharing.

“I’m impressed,” Hugh Talverton told Charles Chaumonde later that day as the gentlemen rested their horses under the shade of a large oak tree.

Charles leaned back on his saddle cantle and smiled contentedly. “I am a very fortunate man, sir,” he admitted. He turned to Richard Mannion. “And I account myself the most fortunate to have married Louisa.”

Richard grunted and scratched the side of his nose. “The gal is fortunate herself,” he said self-consciously.

Charles cocked an eye at Trevor, Russell, and Hugh. “Any other man who weds a Mannion will find himself likewise blessed.”

Hugh laughed. “You talk like a marriage broker.”

Unabashed, Charles nodded. “Can I help it? These sisters are very special to me. Ah, but with my own sister, I have a problem. That one is a hoyden and needs a strong hand.”

Trevor grinned at Hugh, but he ignored him and pointed to the field before him. “Is all your acreage planted in indigo?”

“Mostly, to my father-in-law’s everlasting dismay,” he said, casting a teasing look his way. “But I am thinking of switching over to sugarcane. Monsieur Baligny, my neighbor, and I are discussing the merits of sharing the cost of a sugar mill and refining our own sugar and that of other small plantation owners as well. There is talk in the government circles of imposing a three-penny tariff on imported sugar to boost local production and profit. I think it will pass; consequently, this would be a good opportunity for us.”

Behind him he heard Richard Mannion grumbling under his breath. Charles laughed. “Now, Richard, don’t take offense. If everyone grew cotton, we’d flood the market and ruin the land. Besides, you know it is much too wet here and someone has to grow these other crops, or their scarcity would make their price too dear.”

Hugh looked out across the well-ordered fields and shook his head. “I’m still amazed. You are a lawyer and a plantation owner. What other trades are you involved with?”

“I’ve part ownership in a sailing vessel and am heavily involved with banking,” he said as he gently urged his horse out from under the shade of the tree and led the party back to the house.

Trevor laughed at Hugh’s slightly bemused expression. “Not at all like England, is it?”

Hugh shook his head as he followed the others. “No,” he said slowly, “but I admit I find myself a trifle envious,” he said as he kicked his horse into a loping canter, “for here it is the
gentleman’s
trade.”

Trevor rode easily beside him. “You should consider staying here. As you said to me last Saturday, there are fortunes to be made.”

He shook his head regretfully. “No, my home is in England.” Then he wondered why he said that, for he’d spent little time there since 1808. Was it force of habit that called him home, or desire? He didn’t seem to know anymore.

As they approached the stables, they spied Adeline and Vanessa running and playing a form of tag with two small children, while on the gallery surrounding the house sat Louisa, Amanda, and a rotund Teresa Rouchardier, Charles’s and Paulette’s aunt. Amanda was cradling a white-swathed form in her arms.

Trevor reined in and sat a moment on his horse as he watched Adeline with his children, a loving smile hovering on his lips. Hugh and Russell Wilmot noted his expression and looked in the same direction to see Vanessa laughingly pretend to miss a towheaded little girl she was supposed to tag.

Vanessa looked up to see the men dismounting, dismayed to feel her heart beating faster and a faint flush creep up her neck. She could not forestall it. She watched Trevor and Hugh approach, followed by her father, Charles, and Mr. Wilmot, and her breath clogged in her throat. In wonder she realized she had never really looked at Mr. Talverton before, so ready was she to condemn his every action. Now her breath was swept away. He was so handsome with the sun glinting off his sandy blond hair and the faint afternoon breeze lifting and gently ruffling its golden waves. His shoulders were broad and his legs showed well-defined muscles through the tight fit of his buckskin breeches, yet still he moved with a fluid, catlike grace. Suddenly that strange tingling she felt before in his presence rippled through her, and she felt light-headed. To hide her confusion, she pulled Trevor’s daughter, Mary, into her arms and sank down on to the green sward. She looked down at the little girl until her cheeks cooled and the tingling subsided.

Unaccountably, Hugh felt his heart sink to the soles of his feet when he saw the look Vanessa gave Trevor. He wanted them to be together, he told himself savagely. But a small voice asked him if that was true, why did he feel an aching emptiness at the thought? Then he realized if he saw that ardent exchange, Wilmot did also. He looked back to see Wilmot scowling darkly, a dangerous gleam in his narrowed eyes that were pinned on Trevor’s back. Hugh took a deep breath. Tonight, he would have to claim Miss Mannion’s attention as best he could lest Trevor and Wilmot come to blows.

“I had to see you, to talk to you. This farce is becoming extremely painful.”

Adeline turned with a start, then smiled. She laid her basket down at the edge of her sister’s flowerbeds and extended her hands toward Trevor. “I, too, am finding it grievously difficult,” she admitted softly, her fingers curling into his.

He lifted one hand and then the other to kiss, faintly caressing her knuckles with his thumbs.

She blushed, then gently pulled her hands free. “We mustn’t be seen in this way,” she murmured, distressed.

“Hush, love.” He dropped her hands. “I am being selfish and unfair. I should know better and desist from plaguing you.”

Her head flew up. “Oh, you are not plaguing me!” she assured him, then blushed anew and smiled shyly.

He smiled fondly at her. “Yes, I am, but happy am I to hear you so ardently tell me nay. Well, for propriety and prying eyes, may I assist you in collecting flowers?” he suggested, picking up her basket.

She nodded, and they began to walk the garden paths, stopping occasionally as Adeline selected a bloom.

“By the length of stem you are cutting, I would gather you are not collecting for your flower art,” Trevor finally said, breaking the strained silence between them.

“No, you are correct. I’m collecting flowers for vases. I think a room looks so much prettier with flowers around, and by my sister’s own admission, she is no dab hand at it.” She laughed slightly. “When I offered to create the bouquets for the parlor and hall, she agreed with unsurprising alacrity.”

“When we are wed, I vow our gardens will rival any in the state,” he said sincerely.

She smiled shyly again. “I liked the sound of that.”

“What, my love?”

She stopped and stood in front of him. “Our,” she answered, her eyes sparkling.

“Oh, Adeline,” Trevor said, closing his eyes tightly, then opening them and sighing deeply. “You make me want to pick you up in my arms and carry you away.”

She skipped away from him. “Remember where we are,” she said teasingly. Then she sobered. “We must discuss this evening. I have been watching Mr. Wilmot very closely. He does not notice me for he holds me to be a drab slip of a woman.”

“The man is blind.”

Adeline smiled and nodded her head in thanks but went on: “His eyes follow Vanessa everywhere, and he scowls deeply when any man talks to her, even Charles! He desires private conversation with Vanessa, but so far he has been thwarted by you and Hugh. He is growing increasingly restive. Perhaps we should allow him his time with her.”

Trevor’s dark sable brows pulled together across the bridge of his nose as he thought. “I don’t know. Hugh and I had an opportunity to talk earlier. He seems to feel Vanessa is afraid to be alone with Wilmot.”

“Vanessa, afraid? I find that difficult to believe of my sister.”