Through the Storm

Raimond sighed with impatience. “Has a man ever sent your wife dessert?”

  Galeno chuckled. “Not and lived, no.”

  Raimond knew Galeno didn’t really mean that, but he allowed himself a small smile. “This is absolutely maddening. Just looking at her makes me ache.”

  “She’s your wife, Rai. She’s supposed to turn you inside out. I don’t know why you’re struggling to keep her at bay—she’s intelligent, beautiful. It’s apparent she loves you, so what is your problem?”

  “Can I trust her?”

  “Oh.”

  Silence settled as both men stood in the darkness.

  Galeno finally said, “Personally, after being with her tonight, I can’t picture her as anything other than a victim of circumstance.”

  “And if she wasn’t?”

  “Then she’ll break your heart.”

  “Exactly.”

  The two had been through a lot together, but love was proving to be a far more treacherous journey than any of their previous adventures. “So is this how you felt when you were pursuing Hester?”

  “Yes, and as I remember you weren’t very sympathetic.”

  “My deepest and most sincere apologies. I had no idea.”

  Galeno grinned. “So what are you going to do about the lovely Sable?”

  “Surrender. It’s all I can do, truthfully. I just pray I don’t discover later that I’m mated to a black widow.”

  Galeno patted him on the back. “Everything will work out. You’ll see.”

  Before they could head back inside, Archer walked up to them and drawled dryly, “While you two old goats are out here debating Lord knows what, the wolves are inside circling your ladies like spring lambs.”

  Raimond looked over at Galeno. “How about we vow that he’ll be next?”

  “Next what?” Archer asked.

  “Next to be impaled on Cupid’s arrow.”

  Archer started laughing. “Oh, no. There isn’t a woman alive who can make me give up my mistresses. One of my lovelies works roots, and she makes certain I stay immune.”

  “Out of the mouths of babes—” Galeno said.

  Raimond added, “And brats. Let’s go clear the wolves from the pasture.”

  Archer’s description proved to be accurate. Hovering around the table were most of the eligible and in some cases not so eligible men in the room. Since Archer’s restaurant catered only to the wealthy and powerful members of the elite, the wolves were prominent citizens. There was the newspaperman Louis-Charles Roundanez, of course, and next to him, the Bazile brothers, Albert and John, joint owners of the largest and most profitable cigar-making business in New Orleans. Also competing for the ladies’ attention were Jacques LaMotte, an architect making a small fortune helping to rebuild the city; pharmacist Joseph Bowman; and an intense young man Raimond did not know.

  “Gentlemen, may we rejoin our wives?” Raimond’s polite but firmly spoken request parted them like the Red Sea.

  “Thank you.”

  As Raimond and Galeno took their respective seats, the pharmacist Joseph Bowman said, “Good to see you out and about, LeVeq. We were beginning to wonder if you were really married to our lovely Sable. We rarely see the two of you together.”

  Raimond assessed the tall, thin man before replying, “That’s a perception I will certainly remedy from now on.”

  Sable looked up from the young poet kneeling so devotedly at her side and assessed her husband. He was still tense with suppressed emotion, but now there was a hot light in his eyes, a flame that singed her in places only he had touched.

  The other men took turns expressing their pleasure at seeing Raimond again. Most knew Galeno also and shook his hand to welcome him home. After offering their good-nights, they drifted back to their own tables—all except the young man still kneeling at Sable’s side. He was scribbling hastily on scraps of paper and handing them to Sable to read.

  Raimond watched and waited for a few moments, but when Sable’s attention continued to be monopolized, he called softly to her, “Ma reine…”

  She looked up immediately. He’d never addressed her as “my queen” in public before, and it made her a bit breathless.

  “Who is he?”

  The young man stood and declared, “I am Gaspar Cadet, and I am in love with your wife. A woman as fine as Labelle Sable has no business being with a husband as inattentive as you, monsieur.”

  Sable gasped. “Gaspar!”

  He cut her off. “No, Sable, he doesn’t deserve you. Choose your weapon.”

  Galen had begun laughing about halfway through Gaspar’s impassioned soliloquy and by now he had tears in his eyes.

  Hester appeared to be as shocked as Sable.

  Raimond took in the poet’s earnest young face and without raising his voice said, “I advise you to take your pencils—and your papers—and leave before I stand up. Because if I get up, you will need something far more dangerous than a weapon to keep me from tossing you out in the streets on your arse.”

  Gaspar’s eyes widened. He was obviously beginning to understand that the man he’d challenged so flippantly was truly dangerous, because he didn’t utter another word. Instead, he bowed in Sable’s direction and hastily made his retreat.

  Galeno used his napkin to dry his eyes. “This has been the best trip we’ve taken in a long while, petite. When’s the second act, Rai?”

  Raimond could only smile in response to his friend’s enthusiasm. He then asked his wife, “Where in the world did you meet Gaspar the Brave?”

  “At the orphanage my first day there. I had no idea he harbored such strong feelings for me.”

  “Poets are often impassioned,” Hester offered.

  “Well, his impassioned plea almost got him hurt,” Raimond cracked. “Choose your weapon, indeed. Do you believe that, Galeno?”

  Galeno began chuckling again. “The look on your face was priceless, mon frere, priceless.”

  Raimond ignored that and turned to his golden wife. “How many more court jesters am I going to have to banish before my throne is secure, Sable?”

  Unable to resist teasing, she drawled, “Hundreds.”

  He grinned. “What was he scribbling?”

  “Love poems.”

  “Let’s hear one,” Raimond invited.

  “Are you sure? I wouldn’t want poor Gaspar to be hung by his toes.”

  “I promise to control myself.”

  Sable picked up one of Gaspar’s scraps and read: “Thy beauty blinds my soul. I am breathless at the sight of thee, staggered by thy smile; come with me to paradise and I will treasure thee as mine.”

  “I think that’s beautiful, even if the meter is a bit off,” Hester said, breaking the silence. She turned to Galeno. “Why don’t you ever write me love poems?”

  “Because you prefer mudpies…”

  “How right you are, forgive me.”

  Sable, sensing the desire sparking between the Vachons, asked Raimond, “Do you want me to read another?”

  “No.” Raimond had no desire to hear another man’s words echoing the feelings in his own heart.

  The evening eventually drew to a close, and tight farewell hugs were exchanged by both couples. Since Galeno and Hester were guests of Archer’s hotel, they had to go no farther than the stairs to reach their suite of rooms. They were going to be in Louisiana for at least another week, and the Vachons and the LeVeqs vowed to get together again the next day.

  Chapter 12

  Riding home in a hack they had hailed outside Archer’s hotel, Sable glanced over at her silent husband and considered the advice Hester had given her. Sable had to admit that seducing him had already crossed her mind once before—but on that particular night, she’d wound up being seduced instead. Not that she had any complaints—he could seduce her any time he desired, a small voice crooned inside. Sable put away her yearnings, chastising herself for being such a wanton, and settled in for the return to Juliana’s.

  But it appeared they were heade
d elsewhere. She knew the city well by now, and when the driver did not turn onto the street he should have taken, she asked her husband, “Where are we going?”

  “I promised you a bath,” he replied in a voice that stroked her senses. “Remember?”

  Yes, she did, and sudden anticipation dissolved her into a puddle right there on the seat.

  He slid a finger over the soft rise of her cheek. “Our marriage has gotten off to a good start in some ways…and in other ways it hasn’t, mainly due to the past—would you agree?”

  “Yes.”

  “You fascinate me in the bedroom, Sable, but I want us to share more than that.”

  His eyes were difficult to read in the shadows, but she sensed his sincerity. “What are you saying?”

  “That I wish to come home to you in the evenings, have meals with you, be there in the morning when you rise.”

  “What about Randolph Baker?”

  “The past is behind us.”

  She searched his face. “Then you believe I wasn’t involved?” It was a question she needed to hear him answer truthfully.

  But he seemed to be more interested in something else as he touched his mouth to hers, just lightly enough to pique her interest too. He answered her softly, “What I believe about the past has no bearing on our future.”

  “But it will, if it remains between us.”

  “It is no longer an issue with me…”

  His words faded as he brushed his lips against her ear. As the opening notes of desire floated through her blood like an elusive melody, she accused him, less firmly than she’d intended, “You’re trying to distract me…”

  His lips journeyed across the scented skin of her neck. “Who…me?”

  “Yes, you…”

  His hands were wandering leisurely, his warm lips doing the same. “Why would I want to distract you, bijou…?”

  “Because you don’t wish to discuss…oooh…”

  His mouth had encircled her nipple through the fabric of her dress and he teased it just long enough to elicit her response before moving to its twin. As her senses began to tingle and her heart pounded, he asked huskily, “Why in the world would I care to discuss a Reb turncoat when I can discuss how well your breasts fill my hands…”

  Sable thanked heaven for the sheltering canopy of the carriage as he eased aside the bodice of her gown and filled his palms with her bared, dark-tipped golden flesh.

  His tongue discussed while she purred. He made certain each peak had an opportunity to beg and throb before he rose to kiss her parted lips. His hand slid possessively up beneath her gown, mapping her thighs, caressing the band of moons, then drifting to her center.

  She arched to the hot, sweet magic. She wanted to scold him for being so commandingly arrogant, but couldn’t call up the words.

  There were no words needed—just croons, sighs, and moans as he lingered over her bared breasts, dallied at the gates of her temple, and set off such a whirlwind of sensations she didn’t want to leave the coach ever.

  But the coach had stopped in front of the small mansion he’d purchased for her, and they had to get out.

  “Come on…” he whispered against her lips, righting her dress.

  Sable wasn’t aware of leaving the coach. She was barely aware of standing dazed, passion throbbing like a drumbeat between her pulsing thighs, while he paid the driver.

  Raimond scooped her up and carried her to the porch. Once inside, he set her on her feet and recaptured her lips. Their journey up the stairs was interrupted by kissing, touching, and the slow, sure pleasure of his hands guiding her dress up to her waist. The same hands moved bewitchingly over her bottom, then expertly undid the strings of her drawers. She barely noticed as the garment fluttered away. The touch of his bare hands fondling her so erotically made her cry out.

  “I can’t wait, ma reine…” he breathed thickly. The interlude in the coach had left them both near to bursting.

  So they made love there, on the stairs, bathed by the moonlight streaming in through the still open front door.

  Sable didn’t get her promised bath until late the next morning. He treated her to a passionate mix of bathing and discussion that seduced her into climbing desire’s heights once again. He carried her wet body out onto the verandah and had her stretch out on a quilt under the warming rays of the Louisiana sun. As she lay there, ripe, damp, and breathless, he sensually used a towel and his lips to dry the dark, straining buds of her breasts before transferring his dazzling ministrations to the swollen, sensitive bud between her thighs. Only after she was rendered twisting and mindless did he fill her with the iron of his own pulsing need, and love her until release shattered them both.

  Hunger made Sable rise later that afternoon. While Raimond slept on, she eased from the bed and padded nude from their room to see what there was to eat. On the way down the stairs she found her drawers, her dress, and his trousers. She also found three buttons that had once been attached to his shirt. Remembering how they’d come unattached made the heat of embarrassment warm her cheeks. She retrieved them and placed them in his pants pocket. Last night, in her eagerness to caress his bare skin, she’d sent the buttons flying free. He hadn’t minded, just as she hadn’t minded the large rent he’d put in the front of her thin camisole in his own lustful eagerness.

  The buttons and her torn camisole were a measure of how strong their passion had been. As she continued down the stairs, she smilingly envisioned a future filled with popped buttons and scandalously torn underthings.

  Downstairs, she was struck by the wealth of furniture now filling the rooms. There were paintings, beautiful upholstered divans and chairs, and a gleaming new desk in the study. She had no idea when Raimond had added all the furnishings, but each piece showed his excellent taste.

  On a counter in the kitchen stood a beautiful crystal decanter half-filled with an amber liquid that appeared to be cognac, but there was no food in the cupboards. Not even a carrot. Not even a spoon, she realized, conducting a further investigation of the drawers and bins in the spacious room.

  “Pretty empty, huh?”

  She was startled by the sight of Raimond framed in the doorway, wearing a black silk dressing gown.

  “Good morning,” she said, enjoying the idea of having him around.

  “Nice attire,” he said, indicating her nudity.

  She spun around as if showing off a new gown. “It’s all the rage, you know.”

  He grinned, feeling his manhood leap with appreciation at the sight of her all nude and golden. The thought of making love to her again tempted him mightily. “I suggest you find something to put on over your fashionable attire unless you wish to be in need of another bath, Your Majesty.”

  She stood a moment as if mulling over the proposition, then replied slyly, “This counter appears fairly solid…are we allowed to make love in the kitchen?”

  Raimond’s manhood surged to full life beneath his robe.

  She walked over to the table in the center of the room, blinding him with the sight of her moons and sunbursts as she passed provocatively. “Or…here, maybe…?”

  Raimond chuckled, his tiger eyes blazing. “You are very playful, ma reine…”

  “Being playful will intrigue you as much as being provocative, Raimond.”

  It was a reference to the conversation they’d had the night he’d missed Muriel’s birthday party.

  “You are correct,” he affirmed while making a mental note to take her on the counter at the first opportunity. “However, my voracious bijou d’or, a man, unlike a woman, needs time to recover after such…extensive activity.”

  “Oh.”

  Raimond shook his head. Virgins. No, he corrected himself, former virgins. “So go and put on some clothes. Later, if you’re good, I’ll show you the table, the counter, and probably that bench over there too.”

  Sable executed an exaggerated pout.

  He laughed aloud. “After all the love I bestowed on you, how dare you po
ut. Upstairs, shameless woman. Look in the armoire for something to wear, and don’t come back unless you’re covered.”

  Grinning saucily, she left to do her husband’s bidding.

  She returned to the kitchen wearing one of his robes. It was so voluminous, she could have made a dress and two blouses out of the material flowing around her bare feet. “Is this better?” she asked.

  “Much.”

  “Good. Now explain to me why there’s nothing in your pantry.”

  He shrugged. “There’s been no need. I only sleep here. I’ve been taking my meals at Archer’s place.”

  “Do you ever plan on doing something besides sleep here?”

  “I don’t know, I’ll have to ask my wife.”

  Sable smiled.

  “I sold my apartments in town,” he told her. “This is where we’ll be living from now on. Just so you know.”

  “And if I choose to live elsewhere, my arrogant knight?”

  “Then expect me to lock you in my tower until you surrender.”

  “That doesn’t sound too terribly awful. In fact, I may enjoy being locked up in your tower.”

  He shook his head at her provocative and playful green eyes.

  They decided to go to Juliana’s to eat. Sable had no alternative but to put on the same dress she’d worn last night. She prayed the Brats were off attending to business so she wouldn’t be subjected to their ribbing.

  Her prayers were denied. In fact, all of Juliana’s sons were in attendance, enjoying a late luncheon. Sable did not know the handsome, gray-haired gentleman seated at Juliana’s side.

  As soon as Sable and Raimond entered the dining room, Archer took one look at Sable’s wrinkled dress and cracked, “Now it appears big brother has her sleeping in dustbins with him.”

  Sable cut him a grin. “Archer, it is terribly impolite to bring up a lady’s disheveled appearance.”

  Phillipe countered, “There’s disheveled and then there’s disheveled. Sweet sister, that dress looks as if it spent the night under a bed.”

  “Almost,” Raimond replied meaningfully.

  “Raimond!” Shocked and a bit embarrassed, Sable looked askance at her husband.