Lysette turned back to Max, glancing at him helplessly.
“It seems that we are unable to help you, sir.” Max’s thumb brushed lightly over the top of Lysette’s spine. “I came here with my wife to share a private moment.”
“Then you have not seen Henriette tonight?”
“I swear upon my honor that I have not.”
Lysette closed her eyes, hoping fervently that Alex and Henriette had the sense to stay inside the hothouse.
Chapter 14
Clement considered them both carefully, noting Lysette’s flustered expression and disheveled gown, Max’s unreadable face and obvious state of arousal. They had not been married long— it was hardly implausible that the couple had sneaked out to the garden in search of privacy. Giving them a last suspicious stare, he harrumphed and turned his back, walking away to renew his search for Henriette.
Lysette regarded her husband with dazed gratitude. “If you hadn’t been here, he would have found them. Thank you.”
“Straighten your gown,” he said curtly. “And take Henriette back without delay.”
The star-crossed lovers crept out of the hothouse. Lysette glanced at the girl’s guilt-stricken face and forced a reassuring smile to her lips. “Allons, Henriette— we must go find your tante, quickly.”
Timidly the girl drew away from Alexandre and preceded Lysette on the path back to the main house. Alex bit his lip, apparently wanting to call out to her, but not daring to anger his brother further.
Max watched until his wife disappeared from view, while thin vales of displeasure appeared around his mouth.
Alex gave him a mutinous glare. “Don’t you understand anything about love, Max? Don’t you know how it feels to want someone until your arms ache to hold her? Are you going to claim that had you been in my place you wouldn’t have done the same? I know how you compromised Lysette in order to force her to marry you. And I feel—”
Mockingly Max held up his hands in self-defense. “Enough, Alex. I don’t give a damn if you see Henriette or not. The risk is yours. But when you enlist the help of my wife, it is my right to interfere.”
Alexandre’s self-righteous anger vanished. “Of course,” he mumbled. “But Lysette wanted to help.”
“Of that I have no doubt. She is a softhearted creature, and easily entreated. It presents little difficulty to take advantage of such a generous nature, n’est-ce pas? Don’t involve her again, Alex— I won’t tolerate it.”
Alexandre nodded, shamed by his brother’s words. “I’m sorry, Max. All I have been able to think about is Henriette and—”
“I know that,” Max interrupted.
“You are angry with Lysette. Please don’t blame her. She only did what Henriette and I both begged her to do. You won’t punish her, will you?”
Max lifted his brows and smiled derisively. “Why, Alex… you seem to believe that my wife needs protection from me.”
———
Having returned Henriette safely to her aunt, who had promised she would not betray them to Diron, Lysette withdrew to a dark corner of the outside gallery. Guiltily she half hoped Max would not find her, though she knew she would have to face him sooner or later. The crowd of guests inside the house was moving toward the dining room, where midnight supper was being served. For her the ball had lost its glitter; she felt distinctly uneasy.
She had stung Max’s masculine pride, and she regretted that. Although he was an indulgent and understanding husband, he was also a Creole male, and she had gone against his express wishes. Frowning, she considered various ways to appease him.
Lysette heard footsteps, and saw a dark form approaching. “Max?” she asked, knowing that he had come to find her. The footsteps halted. She kept her gaze averted as she spoke. “Forgive me. I couldn’t bear to see Henriette and Alexandre so unhappy. But you were completely right, and I should have listened to you. Let me make amends, d’accord?” She approached him with a coaxing smile. “I want very much to please you, bien— aimé—“
She stopped with a sharp gasp as his face became visible. It was not Max. It was Etienne Sagesse.
There was a bright, glazed look in his eyes and she could smell the liquor on his breath. “What a tempting offer,” he murmured. “I can guess how you make amends, with your sweet mouth and your clever little hands. I envy your husband, Lysette… I’ve made no secret of that.”
Lysette’s skin crawled as she saw the expression on his fleshy face. He was very, very drunk. She tried to walk around him, but he moved to block her. “Let me pass,” she said in a low voice.
“Not yet. I want a little of what you give to your husband. You were mine first, after all. You should be in my bed each night. I should be the man rutting between your legs, not Vallerand.”
“Don’t be a fool,” Lysette said shortly, her thoughts racing. She couldn’t allow him to cause a scene. It would create a scandal, and another duel. She must get away from him quickly, before someone discovered them. “I didn’t want you then, and I certainly don’t now. Get out of my way, you drunken ass.”
He smiled, his lips gleaming wetly. “What fire and spirit you have. Perhaps you are not the most beautiful woman in New Orleans, but you know how to keep a man’s cock satisfied, don’t you?” He lurched toward her. “Poor Lysette. You could have been my wife, and instead you share a bed with a murderer.”
“I think you killed her.”
Sagesse smiled. “No, it wasn’t I. Corinne was no threat to me. She had given me all I desired— more, actually. Aside from acute boredom, I had no reason to kill her.” His arms stretched out, and he flattened his hands against the wall above her head.
Lysette stared at him, transfixed by the expression on his face. “You know what happened to her, don’t you?” she asked softly.
His sour breath wafted against her face. “Oui.”
“Tell me.”
His gaze slid over her. “And if I do? What will you offer in return?”
As she remained silent, still staring at him, Sagesse reached for her breast and squeezed it roughly. Lysette struck him hard enough to turn his face to the side, then twisted past him. He caught her hair and pulled her back. She gave a muffled cry of pain and dug her nails into his hands, trying to pull her hair free.
His words struck her cheek in rapid bursts. “For once I’ll know what it is to hold you in my arms.”
“No—”
“You should have been mine.” He shoved a knee between her thighs, and his wet mouth and teeth grazed her cheek. A cry broke from her lips, and his hand covered her mouth while his other felt for her breasts. Shuddering in revulsion, she bit his hand and screamed again.
Suddenly there was a furious shout from behind her, and Lysette was yanked away with a force that snapped her head back. She stumbled as she was released, and steadied herself against a narrow wooden column. Shivering, she watched Justin launch himself at Sagesse, going for his throat. As the pair fought, Lysette flinched at the sound of each blow.
“No, Justin!” Frantically she looked for help. The guests had noticed the disturbance and a crowd gathered around them. Someone pointed to her. She drew as far back into a shadow as possible, pushing back her tumbled hair, pulling up the front of her gown to cover her breasts.
A man darted forward from the crowd and dragged Justin away from Sagesse. It was Bernard. “Calm down, you fool!” he muttered, struggling to restrain the writhing boy.
“Damn you!” Justin cursed. “Let go! I’ll tear him apart!”
Several Sagesse relatives appeared, among them Etienne’s brother-in-law, Severin Dubois. They gathered around Etienne, arguing fiercely as they began to drag him away to the garçonnière. Etienne’s behavior had disgraced the entire family. Humiliated, they wanted only to conceal him before more damage to their honor could be done.
Lysette shrank back in embarrassment as she felt a multitude of gazes upon her. She wished she could disappear. Did they think she had brought this on herself? That per
haps she had allowed Etienne to seduce her, as he had seduced Corinne? She started as she heard a voice close by her ear.
“Lysette?” Philippe was beside her, looking down at her with concerned blue eyes. He put an arm around her shoulders, as if he thought she might faint. She leaned against him, taking comfort in his presence. Philippe was so calm and steady… so unlike his hotheaded brother, who was still swearing and fighting to be free of Bernard’s grasp. Following her gaze, Philippe glanced at his red-faced brother. A faint smile touched his mouth. “He will never forgive Bernard for pulling him off Sagesse,” he commented.
“I agree,” Lysette said with a shaky laugh.
“Are you all right?”
She nodded briefly. “Where is Max?”
“Someone went to find him—” Philippe broke off as the chattering crowd fell silent. The congregation parted to make way for Max as he pushed his way through their midst. There was no sound. Even Justin was still.
Max stopped, his gaze darting from Lysette’s flushed face to Justin’s. Turning, he saw Etienne Sagesse, propped up in the midst of relatives, and Lysette went cold as she saw the bloodlust in her husband’s eyes.
“Max, no,” she said sharply.
He didn’t seem to hear her as he stared at Sagesse. “By God, I’ll kill you,” he said in a murderous voice that curdled everyone’s blood, including Lysette’s. Before anyone could react, he had reached Etienne in two strides.
Lysette put her hands over her mouth to suppress a scream as she saw her husband turn into a stranger. Tearing through the Sagesses, Max leapt on the drunken man and smashed his head against the floor. It took the combined efforts of Bernard, Alexandre, Justin, and Philippe to pull him off.
Severin Dubois broke through the tumult, while Max strained against the arms that held him back. Dubois spoke in a calm, authoritative voice that reached through Max’s blind fury. “There is no excuse for the insult to your wife, Vallerand. Etienne was entirely at fault. On behalf of the Sagesse family, I offer the humblest apologies. All I can do is swear that it will not happen again.”
“No, it won’t,” Max sneered. “Because this time I won’t make the mistake of letting him live. Get him a sword. I’ll finish it now.”
“You cannot duel with him,” Dubois countered. “He is not in a fit condition. It would be murder.”
“Then tomorrow morning.”
“It would be murder,” Dubois repeated, shaking his head.
Suddenly Etienne’s slurred voice interrupted. His relatives had helped him up from the floor. His nose was bleeding, but he made no effort to blot it. “But Max has a taste for murder.”
Max’s arms struggled against his brothers’ restraining hands. “Let me go,” he growled, but Bernard and Alex only tightened their hold on him.
“Etienne,” Dubois said sharply, “be quiet.”
Sagesse staggered forward with a half grimace that resembled a smile. “For years you’ve lied to yourself about what happened to Corinne,” he said to Max. “Why can’t you stand the truth? The pieces are all there. And yet you’ve never put them together. You could find the answers under your own roof, but you don’t want to.” He cackled as he saw the sudden blankness on Max’s face. “What a fool you are—”
“Etienne, enough!” Dubois snapped, taking hold of Sagesse’s collar and dragging him away.
Max stared after them as if in a dream. Abruptly he shook off his brothers’ hands and glanced around wildly for Lysette. She stood alone near the gallery railing, her hair falling from its pins in wild curls. He reached her at once and seized her narrow shoulders in his hands.
Lysette could not control her trembling. “I believe he knows who killed Corinne, Max.”
Max gripped her head in his hands and spread rough kisses of reassurance and ownership across her face. “Did he hurt you?” he asked hoarsely.
“No, not at all.”
His large hand roamed over her shoulders, back, and hips. Lysette knew that people were staring, but she relaxed against him, not caring what anyone thought. His body was rigid, his heart thundering with alarm and aggression.
“This won’t happen again,” came his scratchy whisper. “I’ll kill him if I have to.”
She jerked her head back, startled. “Don’t say that. Everything is all right, Max.”
His eyes were black and fathomless, his face pale beneath its swarthy tan. “It’s not,” he replied softly. “But it will be.”
Her lips parted to reply, but he eased her away from his body and pushed her toward Alexandre. “Take her home.”
“What are you going to do?” Lysette asked.
He refused to explain. “I’ll be home soon.”
“Come with me now,” she begged.
Exchanging a glance with Alex, he turned and left.
“Max!” she cried, following him.
Alexandre caught her arm. “Don’t worry, Lysette. Max is only going to talk with Severin and one or two of the Sagesses. I am certain that Jacques Clement will be there to help mediate.” His attention turned to Bernard, who was standing nearby. “Are you going with him?”
Bernard shook his head. “I’d be of little use,” he said, and added venomously, “especially since I wish we had let Max kill the insolent bastard.”
Justin’s voice cut through the silence. “If Father doesn’t, I will.”
They glanced at the boy, who had been forgotten in the disruption. Alex frowned, while Bernard laughed scornfully. “Little braggart,” Bernard said.
Lysette went to the boy immediately, taking his hand and pressing it between her own. “Justin, don’t say such things.”
“I watched Sagesse all evening,” he said roughly. “While he was watching you. When you disappeared, he went to look for you. That was when I followed him, and—”
“Thank you,” she interrupted gently. “Thank you for rescuing me. Now it is all over, and we can—”
“I saw him go out to the gallery,” Justin continued, his voice falling to a whisper, so that no one else could hear. He turned until his back was to the others. His intense stare did not waver from her face. “By the time I reached one of the doors, he had taken hold of you. I ran forward, and brushed past someone who was standing at the side of the gallery. Standing and watching the two of you. It was Uncle Bernard. He wasn’t going to lift a finger to help you.”
She shook her head, not understanding what he thought was significant. “Justin, not now—”
“Don’t you understand? Something is wrong when a man won’t defend a member of his family, no matter what feelings are between them. It was not only an offense against you, but against father, and me, and—”
“I am tired,” she whispered back, unwilling to hear more. Tempers were too high, and the boy was clearly incensed. All of this could be sorted out later.
———
Lysette huddled in bed alone, her teeth chattering. Her gaze moved restlessly through the dimly lit room. The events of the night kept churning through her mind, and she could not rid herself of the feeling that something terrible had been set in motion, something neither she nor Max could change.
She had never seen Max out of control, as he had been tonight. For a moment she had thought he would kill Sagesse right before her eyes. She pressed her hands to the side of her head to drive away the dark images. But they persisted mercilessly, as did the echo of Max’s vow: By God, I’ll kill you.
Lysette groaned and turned over, burying her face in the pillow. The house was silent. The Vallerands had all retired, except for Bernard, who had chosen to spend the night somewhere else. They had all agreed not to mention anything about the evening to Irénée.
It seemed that hours dragged by before Lysette heard the sounds of someone’s arrival. She bolted out of bed. As she reached the bedroom door, Max stepped inside. He did not appear surprised to find her awake.
“What happened?” she asked, slipping her arms around his waist. She felt the tension in his body, a simmerin
g, barely contained violence. His hand swept down her back, and he hugged her briefly before holding her away in order to look at her.
“Ça va?”
“Yes, I’m fine. Now that you’re here.” A furrow gathered between her brows as she tried to read his mood. “Is there going to be a duel tomorrow?”
“No.”
“Good,” she said, infinitely relieved. “Come to bed, and we’ll talk about—”
“Not yet, petite. I’m going out again.”
“Why?”
“I have an errand to take care of.”
“Tonight?” She shook her head in protest. “No, Max, you must stay here. I don’t care what business matters you have or what the errand is. I need you. Stay with me—”
“I’ll return soon,” he said firmly. “I have no choice about this, Lysette.”
She could not let him go anywhere tonight, not in this dangerous mood. All her instincts insisted that she keep him safe with her. “Don’t go,” she said, gripping the front of his coat.
As she saw that he was about to refuse, she played a card she had hoped would not be necessary. “You told me once that if I asked you not to do something, you would oblige me. Now I am asking. Don’t go.”
Max let out a growl of frustration. “Dammit, Lysette. I have to. Don’t do this to me tonight.”
“Are you refusing me?” Lysette asked, staring into his narrowed eyes. She sensed his dilemma, his desire to please her clashing violently with his urgent need to accomplish whatever task he had set for himself. His mouth was taut with exasperation.
The silence stretched like a cord about to snap. Rather than allow Max to suffer another moment of torturous inner debate, Lysette decided to tip the balance. Her slender hands dropped from his coat and smoothed over the front of his breeches. She felt his body start at the unexpected touch. Finding the stirring shape of him, she cupped and squeezed gently, bringing the heavy shaft to pulsing life. She pressed the tips of her breasts to his chest.
His voice had lowered to a deep, unsteady timbre. “Lysette, what are you doing?”