Kathleen Y'Barbo (48 page)

“And Julian, he’s your blood granddaddy. You don’t be a stranger here, understand?”

“Yes, ma’am. I promise.” Millie paused to look around. “But if you don’t mind my asking, how did a poor fisherman from Bell Island—”

“Come to live here? That came from Sophie, though she didn’t know it. More than that is for you to find out, child, all in good time.”

That seemed a little cryptic, but Millie was willing to let it go for now, trusting that Cook would share more with her when she was ready.

They parted at the door, and Millie carried the story all the way back to Prytania Street.

As Millie approached the house, the front door opened and Kyle met her halfway down the carriageway. “Where have you been? I thought you were gone for good.”

“Why would you think that?” She clasped his hand. “I took a walk. To Royal Street.”

“But that is too far for you to walk. What were you thinking?”

Millie smiled. “I will tell you all about it. But first, do you think there might be some bread pudding in the kitchen?”

“We can do better than that. It’s Valentine’s Day, and we will not be spending it eating cold leftovers. Now upstairs with you. I think the dressmaker has delivered that haul of garments you and my mother purchased. Maybe you can find something suitable for dinner.”

She grinned. “I don’t know. Where are you taking me?”

“Antoine’s. I think it is time to introduce you to my favorite places in this city. And I mean other than my workshop.”

Millie chose a gown of deep crimson silk with a velvet trim. A little while later she found herself across the table from Kyle in the most elegant restaurant in New Orleans dining on scrumptious food and telling him the story of Sophie and Julian.

He he listened patiently to every detail, and when she finished his smiled broadened. “What you have just shared makes what I have for you even more special, Millie.” He reached into his pocket, pulled out a small wrapped package, and handed it to her.

Beneath the wrapping paper, she found a lovely black velvet jeweler’s box. She hesitated a moment, looking up at him with luminous eyes.

“Open it,” he said softly, smiling.

Millie gasped when she looked inside to find her locket and cypher, this time secured to a breathtaking necklace of diamonds and rubies. “But how...where?”

“Your father,” he said. “I had chance to speak with him. This morning, actually. He returned the locket and I handled the rest.”

She shook her head. “What? Father is in New Orleans?”

Kyle rose and came around the table to stand beside her. “He is here, Millie. In Antoine’s.”

Her companion gestured, and then she saw her father come out of the shadows and walk toward her, stopping just out of her reach. Kyle stepped back as if to observe, or perhaps protect.

“Millie.” Father’s voice was hoarse, his use of her shortened name surprising. “Oh, Millie, I have been such a fool.”

He moved closer. She could only watch as words failed her.

And then closer still. “I...”

“You what?” tumbled from her lips with acid she instantly regretted. “What is it you’re asking of me, Father? To forget the treatment I’ve received from you all these years? Is that what you want?”

“I deserve your anger—”

“And I did
not
deserve yours.” She gripped the edge of the table. “You were all I had after they died, and you...”

“I’m asking you to look at the face of an old fool and try to find your father there.” His lips trembled. “And yet as I ask, I am painfully aware I deserve nothing but your scorn.”

She thought of the years of scorn she had received at this man’s hands. And yet her heart softened in spite of it all.

“You’re a brilliant girl, Millie,” he continued. “So very smart. Enough to make a father very proud...and fearful.”

“Fearful?” She shook her head. “How so?”

“I feared you would find no man to be your equal. When Trueck, or Tucker as I’ve been told, came to me and offered for you, I jumped at the chance to secure your future.” He let out a long breath. “Apparently, my haste was my downfall, for a wiser man might have asked for more than assurances of an impressive bank account and that my daughter would be cared for.”

“You asked Trueck to care for me?” she asked as she released her grip on the table.

He looked up sharply. “I required it.”

The man who appeared to care nothing for her had somehow become the father who had looked to secure her future. “But the books. The disdain for my love of learning...”

“Equal parts my fear and my complete understanding of your superior intellect. In short, Millie, you were gifted with so much more than me. I...I am not proud to say this, but I was jealous. Of you.”

Father ducked his head, his shoulders shaking slightly. He dropped to his knees beside her, his eyes now filled with tears. “Millie, will you forgive me? I never knew what I risked losing until you walked out,” he sobbed as he wrapped his arms around her waist and rested his head in her lap. “Please say you will forgive me.”

She looked past him to Kyle, who nodded almost imperceptibly. “Yes,” came out as a mumbled mess. “Yes,” was a bit stronger. And then she wrapped her arms around her father and rested her head atop his. And cried. And told him she forgave him.

How long they remained there, she could not say. Then Father lifted his head and stood, bringing Millie to her feet. “No matter what happens to me, just know that I love you, daughter.”

“I love you too, Father,” she said and found that though there was still much to work through in her feelings toward him, she meant it.
“Thank you for returning the locket.”

“I should never have taken it.”

He looked past her to where Kyle still stood guard. “Thank you for allowing this.”

The younger man nodded, and then an awkward moment of silence fell, ending when Father cleared his throat. “I met my father today. Cook was still with him, so while he was not able to speak clearly, we did have a successful first visit.”

“Oh,” she said softly.

A lone tear slid from his eye. “My mother claimed it, but...well, I never believed that my father was anyone other than...”

He reached to swipe at the tear with the back of his hand. “I understand from Cook that you did not find the treasure, and I’m very sorry. I hope you know you will always have a home with Freda and me, though I realize that living with Jean Lafitte’s illegitimate grandson is poor consolation when compared to finding Lafitte’s treasure.”

“A father is a father no matter the provenance,” Kyle said. “And I’m sure that once Millie has had time to consider that, she will understand that fathers sometimes make mistakes out of love.”

“Yes, but sometimes those mistakes are made out of selfishness. I claim both.” He turned his attention back to Millie. “Will you come back to Memphis with me? I don’t know what will happen when the Pinkerton agents are finished with their investigation...if I will remain a free man or...but I wonder if...”

She let out a long breath. Too much pain was still there. “No, Father,” she said gently.

“Yes, of course.” He offered a curt nod. “I understand. Please write. To Mildred too.”

“I promise.” She touched the necklace now circling her neck. “And thank you.” She looked to Kyle. “Both of you. I thought Will Tucker would see that it was gone forever.”

Her Father shook his head. “I meant to give it to him but I just couldn’t.” He embraced her again and then offered a handkerchief to dry her tears. She looked down at the embroidery and spied the familiar logo.

“Land and sea.”

And then he was gone, a proud man walking straight and tall through the front doors of Antoine’s and out into the New Orleans night.

“Will he go to jail?” Millie asked as Kyle returned to sit across from her.

“He might. Everything depends on what the facts are.”

“I see.” She reached for the necklace and secured it around her neck. “It’s lovely.”

“You’re lovely.” He smiled at her with pride and something warmer shining in his eyes. Then he reached out to cover her hand on the table with one of his own. “I know we had dessert planned, but what would you say if I offered you bread pudding in a certain kitchen on Prytania Street?”

“I would say yes!”

“Then follow me.”

She did, and when they were settled in the carriage he turned to fix his attention on her. “Millie, I have a question for you.”

“All right,” she said as she arranged her skirts.

“If it was important, would you come if I called you?”

“What? I have no idea what you’re talking about.” She smiled, though. “But of course I would.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yes, Kyle, I would. If it was important.”

He grinned. “That’s all I need to know.”

Kyle’s kitchen staff had two bowls of bread pudding ready before Millie could get situated on a stool. “It’s almost as if you had this planned,” she said as she touched the necklace she still could not believe she was wearing.

“Well, perhaps I did. Are you pleased?”

“More than pleased. Thank you.” She paused. “But I wonder if I shouldn’t give the locket to Mildred. After all, the miniature inside is of Julian.”

“I think that is a grand idea. Tomorrow I will have the piece sent back to the jewelers to be separated. You’ll keep the cypher in place, won’t you?”

“Oh, yes, definitely.”

He nudged her with his shoulder. “Why don’t you try opening it?”

She grinned at him as she opened the clasp and set the necklace down in front of them. “I was given an excellent lesson in semaphore flags not long ago, sir. I know just how to do it. Watch.”

She turned the coins as he had showed her and nothing happened. After another attempt, she gave up. “Something seems to be wrong. You try it.”

“Actually, I modified the code.” He gave the cypher a few turns and then it opened.

“Ah. What’s the new code?”

“I’ll tell you later. Right now I would like you to hold out your hand and close your eyes.”

Smiling, she did so, and then she felt something fall into her palm. “What is this?”

“Open your eyes, Millie.”

She found him kneeling before her. In her palm was a breathtaking ruby-and-diamond ring.

“It was my grandmother’s,” he said softly, his eyes locked on hers. “She told me not to put it on a woman’s finger until I was certain I couldn’t live without her. Well, I’m certain.”

“Oh, Kyle—”

“Hush now. I have rehearsed this, and if you insist on talking you will get me off track. Just listen. Millie Cope, I love you. I have for longer than I wanted to admit, and I want you for my wife. Will you marry me?”

“Is it time for me to speak?” When he nodded, she said, “I love you too, and yes, I will be your wife.”

He placed the ring on her finger and then stood to pull her into his arms. “There is just one more thing,” he said. “A wedding gift.”

With the ring sparkling on her hand and love filling her heart, Millie could not imagine anything that could best that gift. He led her out of the kitchen and toward the entrance to the workshop’s secret elevator.

Once inside, Mille skipped the hand-holding to fall into his embrace and offer Kyle the best kiss she could manage while crying.

“You’re going to have to stop this before we get to the workshop,” he said.

“Why is that?”

The doors opened just as he said, “Because tears stain silk, and I don’t want your wedding dress ruined before the big day.”

“My...” She gasped when she saw it hanging a few feet in front of her. “My mother’s wedding dress. And it’s beautiful. Just like I imagined it would look. But I thought...”

“It was burned?” He shook his head. “No, and neither was this.” He gestured toward a box on the worktable beside her.

“What is it?”

“Open it.”

“My mother’s Bible! My sketchbooks...” She looked through the box quickly before turning to once again fall into his embrace. “But how?”

“Your father brought it when he returned the locket. Apparently, he had second thoughts about destroying your things. Two more boxes filled with books are downstairs in the library, but I understand these things are your favorites.”

“Yes, they are.” She folded back the Bible’s spine to see the old letter still tucked inside. A letter from father to daughter.

“Oh, it’s all too much. I just can’t take it all in. The dress...”

“Fitted to your size by my mother’s dressmaker. And without tantrums,” Kyle added. “From either of us.”

She smiled then, and she sniffed. When she pulled out her father’s handkerchief and saw the distinctive embroidery, she started crying all over again.

“All right. Enough of that.” He marched her across the workshop to the far window where a pair of winter coats were draped over the chairs. “Put that on,” he instructed as he donned the other coat. “And then come with me.”

She shrugged into her coat, still sniffling, and then dried her eyes and tucked the handkerchief into the coat pocket. When Kyle disappeared through the window, she peered out to see where he had gone.

And then she saw it. The flying machine, newly inflated and tethered to the rail awaiting its next voyage. Kyle stepped in and she followed, allowing him to buckle her in place just as he had done several times before.