Lady Vixen (34 page)

She
left a note apologizing for departing from their service so abruptly and begged
that they forgive her. Leaving in this manner went against her nature, but with
Christopher giving her no chance to change her mind, she was swiftly and effectively
whisked out of the Dumas's house.

Christopher
and Mrs. Eggleston remained in New Orleans only two more days, attending to
various tasks. He left off the measurements taken by Mauer at the dressmaker's
and by guile and coaxing convinced Mrs. Eggleston that if they were to do the
thing properly, she, too, would need an entire wardrobe.

She
protested at first, genuinely horrified at the idea of any gentleman buying her
gowns, but Christopher, so very innocently agreeing, went on to say. "Of
course, you are right. I hadn't thought of how you would feel. I just hope that
no one comments on Nick's rather extensive wardrobe and believes that you have
denied yourself for her. Remember, no one will know of your straitened
circumstances, or that you have been earning your own living. But there is
this, though, so that there is not a great deal of difference between you, we
should cancel some of these gowns I've ordered for Nick and have some different
ones made up. You know, something more serviceable and durable."

Thinking
of how much poor little Nicole had done without all these years, Mrs. Eggleston
felt absolutely wretched, as Christopher knew she would. Searching
Christopher's carefully bland face, she said distressfully, "Oh, no! I
don't think that will be necessary. Little Nicole deserves something gay and
frivolous after her boy's garb."

Christopher
said nothing, and after struggling with her conscience for a few minutes
longer, she murmured weakly, "Rather than have little Nicole do without,
perhaps I should have just a gown or two to fill out my wardrobe." Her
eyes brightening, she added, "And certainly I shall reimburse you from the
very fine salary you are paying me."

Hiding
a grin, Christopher watched her walk briskly to the back of the dressmaker's
fashionable little shop. While Mrs. Eggleston was busy being measured and being
shown swatches of material for her new gowns, Christopher had a very
satisfactory conversation with Madame Colette, the modiste. By the time Mrs.
Eggleston discovered his underhanded methods it would be too late, for she
would find several more items of clothing than she expected—and what can one do
with garments that have been made exclusively for oneself except wear them?

Besides
seeing to the ladies' wardrobes, Christopher spent several hours with his
banker and his business agent, discussing the conduct of his affairs for the
six months he would be out of the country. And he managed to see Jason Savage
for a few hours in the evening before leaving for the plantation.

After
a pleasant dinner Jason said with a certain amount of satisfaction, "It
appears you are wasting little time and that your plan is well on its way to
success."

Christopher
grimaced. "Oh, yes. I'm becoming adept at gulling little unsuspecting old
ladies."

His
eyebrow raising humorously, Jason asked, "Finding it heavy going?"

"Very!"
Christopher said with feeling. "I didn't think using her would disturb me,
but I find that it does. The only comfort I can discover is that it is for a worthy
cause and she will benefit from it."

Those
few words pleased Jason a great deal. It was risky, what he was doing, and even
though he had Jake's report on Saxon and his own instincts to guide him, it was
a relief to find that Christopher was not quite as calloused and unscrupulous
as he appeared. Jason wondered exactly what sort of man Christopher really was.
A gentleman of good family, a privateer, a plantation owner, a gambler, an
associate of Lafitte's and now . . . patriot or spy? Which was the truth of the
man? His green eyes wandering thoughtfully over the hard, yet almost unhappy
face, Jason finally decided that there were hidden depths, places sealed away
from others in the man. Time would tell how wise he had been in enlisting
Saxon's aid. Putting aside such thoughts, he asked Christopher, "How soon
do you think you'll be able to depart? You must give me a certain amount of
warning, for I have to find a ship that is willing to risk running the British
blockade of the Gulf."

"I
will still have to hold out for at least a month, but weather permitting, I
think we can leave by the middle of February. Nick is not quite the urchin I
feared. And Mrs. Eggleston and I shall have the six weeks at sea to finish her
transformation. The weather is going to be more of an uncertainty than Nick's
progress."

Jason
nodded, remembering with a shudder his own winter crossing some years ago.
"Yes, I agree. I shall, though, start casting around for a ship's captain
willing to risk British capture to take you. There is, after all, no reason to
wait till the last minute."

Christopher
shrugged. "It may be that your task and mine shall be completed at the
same time. Having to leave a week or two earlier than originally planned would
not be amiss."

"Yes.
I cannot tell you how uneasy I am at the delay, assuming I had the ship and
captain at my fingertips this instant," Jason admitted honestly.

"I
thought we had decided that there would be no determined effort before the fall
at the earliest, and that is saying Napoleon is finally beaten in Europe,"
Christopher said.

"Oh,
you are probably right, but I dislike uncertainty," Jason complained with
a wry twist to his lips.

Christopher
merely smiled in commiseration; he was not particularly overjoyed with the
difficulties ahead of him. The venture was filled with
too
much
uncertainty. "If we had more to go on and a particular person to seek the
information from, I'd like it better myself. But as we don't, I'll just have to
blunder on my own and hope all comes out right in the end."

"True,"
Jason murmured unenthusiastically.

"Come,
now," Christopher said exasperatedly, "if I could outsail the
British, which I could, I see no reason to doubt my ability to outfox them on
land." Grinning he added, "They have no brains anyway!"

Dryly
Jason remarked, "You forget, I am part English and you are totally of
English blood."

"Yes,
but you see, we had the good sense to realize how lacking in clear thinking
they are, and we quickly allied ourselves with our new homeland,"
Christopher shot back, mocking amusement dancing in the depths of the gold
eyes.

Jason
only grunted, "I was born here."

The
gleam of amusement increased as Christopher said quickly, "So was Benedict
Arnold!"

Laughing
out loud, Jason shook his head. "You have a ready tongue—and a telling
point, I must admit." But then his laughter died and Jason asked,
"Speaking of traitors—how did you manage to desert Lafitte without being
branded one?"

For
a second Christopher paused, not exactly pleased with the turn of the
conversation, but then with a shrug he said, "I was never involved in the
smuggling; I am not trying to dissociate myself from Jean to excuse myself. I
was a privateer. Granted I knew the items from my prizes would be smuggled into
New Orleans, and I suppose that made me technically a smuggler, but I know little
of that portion of Jean's activities. Jean knows I would not betray him, even
if Claiborne were to raise the reward for him one hundred times. Jean is a good
friend to me and to Louisiana. He feels that he is offering something the
people want, and perhaps he is. Certainly he does not lack for buyers."

"But
yet he breaks the law with every load of contraband that flows into the
city," Jason argued grimly. "And, Christopher, Claiborne is not going
to put up with it."

"I
know," Christopher agreed soberly. "I told Jean when I left that he,
too, should pull out, but he will not. And in a showdown between them, I'm not
so sure that Jean wouldn't emerge the winner."

"Perhaps,
but he grows more flagrant with every day, and Claiborne cannot be expected to
overlook such outrageous behavior forever."

It
was on this rather strained note that they parted.

In
the week since the disastrous confrontation in the dining room, Nicole had
managed to master her hurt fury. She had come to realize bitterly that Christopher
would never allow any woman to mean anything to him; she resolved to put all
thought of him out of her mind. She concentrated grimly on allowing Mauer to
transform her into a lady.

"Do
not stride about like a man,
ma ch
ère! Non
—do not sit in the
chair like a mushroom,
petite, s'il vous pla
î
t!
You must move
gracefully, like a flower in the breeze—
oui! Non, non!
Not
that
way—like
this!" And so it went. At first hurt and angry, she rebelled, storming
from the room, muttering a black curse under her breath, only to return
shortly, contrite and somewhat ashamed at her outburst.

Higgins
had remained behind this time, for Christopher had not quite trusted Nicole
after the scene in the dining room. Not so strangely, Nicole was almost content
in the company of the onetime first mate of
La Belle Garce.
Higgins was
familiar to her, and she had always liked him when they had been shipmates
together. With Higgins she could reminisce over events of the past five years,
laugh at remembered pranks of the crew; mostly she could be herself. It was
with Higgins that she could sit on the floor with her long legs crossed in a
decidedly unladylike fashion, winning and losing huge sums of money, all
imaginary, as they diced.

Unfortunately
Christopher and Mrs. Eggleston arrived one afternoon when the two were
particularly engrossed in the dice. They were sitting on the floor in front of
the fire. The rug was rolled back slightly so that the dice could bounce and
slide with ease on the hardwood floor. Nicole, leaning forward eagerly, her
eyes intent on the latest throw by Higgins, was unaware of their arrival. At
the sound of Christopher's icy, "Are we disturbing you?" Higgins, a
guilty look on his face, leaped to his feet, muttering something about how he
had better see to the unpacking, and disappeared with remarkable haste.

Making
no attempt to rise to her feet, Nicole leaned back on her hands, and slanting a
provocative look up at Christopher's thunderous face, she murmured, "Oh!
You're back! I wish we could have finished the game. I'm losing right now and I
owe him half a million pounds."

His
lips tightening, yet fighting back a regrettable desire to laugh at her
outrageous behavior, he hauled her to her feet and said to Mrs. Eggleston,
"You see, your task will not be an easy one."

And
Mrs. Eggleston, regarding with dismay the tall young goddess before her, put
aside forever all ideas of "little" Nicole. But then seeing the very
becoming and stylish gown Nicole was wearing, a soft green finely spun wool
that clung gently to her slender body before falling into a graceful full
skirt, and the burnished hair arranged so tastefully in soft curls around her
shoulders, she was somewhat reassured that Nicole was not a complete hoyden.
And Mrs. Eggleston was thankful that Nicole
looked
a lady.

Her
head held slightly to one side, a gentle smile on her lips, Mrs. Eggleston said
quietly, "Hello, dear Nicole. Who would have guessed when we said good-bye
that day at Ashland that we would be meeting once again in this new country?
And I must say, how very like both your mother and your father you have grown
to look."

Shrugging
out of Christopher's grasp, Nicole grinned at her, an impish grin that hid the
sheer delight at seeing her old friend again. "You were, as I remember,
always very tactful," she said.

But
despite her smile Mrs. Eggleston was extremely tired from the journey, and her
conscience was still uneasy about the lies they were going to tell!

Seeing
the weary droop to her thin little shoulders, Nicole walked quickly over to
her, and placing a warm arm around Mrs. Eggleston's frail body, suggested,
"Will you let me show you to your room? I'm certain you must be longing to
put your feet up before the fire, which I shall see is lit this instant."

"Oh,
yes. I would indeed!" Mrs. Eggleston replied with heartfelt relief.

"Perhaps
even a cup of tea, too, would not be remiss?" Nicole tempted her.

"Oh,
my, that would be most delightful. Dear Nicole, so thoughtful and so kind of
you."

Christopher
watched this little scene with sardonic amusement. But he was satisfied that
the two women hadn't taken an instant aversion to each other, and he was
devoutly grateful that they had discovered Nick in no greater transgression
than dicing with his valet! Higgins had better have a good excuse for the little
tableau discovered just a few minutes ago—it could have so easily given Mrs.
Eggleston a distaste for Nick and ruined his plans completely!

But
Mrs. Eggleston, escorted by Nicole, was pleased to see that dear Nicole had not
lost the warm spontaneity that she had possessed as a child. It was always so
much pleasanter to instruct a pupil one was fond of, and Mrs. Eggleston was
very fond of Nicole Ashford. She was sure she could teach Nicole everything she
would need to know.