Miss Lavigne's Little White Lie Page 13

  Blast and damn. Cecily’s parents had kept him waiting for twenty minutes. He shoved the watch deep into his pocket and jerked on his waistcoat to adjust it. He just wanted to get the whole damned affair settled once and for all. For five years, he had been waiting for this confrontation. Waiting for Cecily’s parents to level accusations at him. Waiting for someone to acknowledge what he had done.

  Daniel reached the end of the gallery and stopped to gaze at the azure waters on the horizon. Calm settled over him like an early morning mist blanketing the seas he loved. Finally, he could speak the truth and maybe free himself from the prison Cecily’s death had built around his heart.

  He returned to stand before the paintings on the wall. Cecily’s translucent blue eyes stared out from her portrait, her smile mocking. He hated that bloody portrait. It marked the moment the sweet child her parents had spoken of in past encounters had transformed into a coldhearted creature and, in turn, altered him.

  Daniel abhorred the man he had become since Cecily’s death. No, that was untrue. He hated himself the moment he didn’t toss her from his chambers. And he’d hated the husband he had been to her, becoming distant like his father when she had turned him away.

  A swish of skirts wrenched him from his self-recriminations. Cecily’s mother glided across the polished marble floor. “I apologize for keeping you waiting. Shall we take a turn about the gardens?”

  He looked past her shoulder for signs of the governor. “Will His Excellency be joining us?”

  She twined her arm with his and guided him toward the glass doors at the far end of the gallery. “My husband must never know of our conversation,” she whispered as they walked outside into the sunlight.

  Daniel’s heart sped up a beat. “Why?”

  “Promise me, Daniel.”

  He nodded, unsure if he was wise or foolish to give his consent, but unable to deny his need to hear her out. “I give my word.”

  In silence, they retreated deep into the gardens. The ocean glittered in the distance and a faint breeze cooled his forehead.

  “I cannot allow this to go on any longer.” The lady’s voice wavered. “I’ve caused you undue suffering, and this knowledge destroys me inside.”

  “You have caused me suffering?” Her words made no sense.

  “Yes, I have done this to you. I’ve allowed you to blame yourself for my daughter’s death when I am the one at fault.”

  Never once had he stopped to consider that Cecily’s mother might blame herself. “You had nothing to do with Cecily dying.”

  She laced her fingers as if praying and pinched her eyes closed. “I did,” she murmured. “I didn’t intend to, but because of me, my daughter is dead.”

  This was madness, the aftermath of sorrow. Grief could play strange tricks on one’s mind. Reaching out, Daniel patted her shoulder. The gesture seemed inadequate, a halfhearted attempt at comforting her, so he gathered her in a hug. Part of him wished he could hand over the burden of his guilt to Cecily’s mother, but he never would. “Your only mistake was in surrendering your daughter to my care. I failed her, not you. I never should have insisted she leave Port Albis.”

  When she pulled away, her eyes were flooded with tears. “Cecily’s rightful place was by your side. She was your wife, Daniel. She made her choice when she stole into your bed while you slept.”

  “How did you—?” He bit back his reply. It didn’t matter any longer. Cecily was gone, and he wouldn’t add to her mother’s suffering by tainting her memory.

  The first lady shook her head, a rueful smile in place. “I knew my daughter well. Your silence does not protect her. I loved her dearly, but I was never blind to Cecily’s failings. Not like her father was.”

  Her intense pale gaze held Daniel in place. “I realized the circumstances that led to my daughter’s presence in your chambers as soon as I learned of the incident. Cecily didn’t require enticement, and I’m certain she orchestrated her discovery.”

  Daniel frowned. The poor woman had weaved a twisted tale in her mind. Cecily wouldn’t have planned her ruin, not with him. Her disdain still felt like a punch to the gut.

  “Your daughter never wished to marry me. She wouldn’t have arranged to be found.”

  Cecily’s mother shrugged and sank down onto a stone bench nestled among a bed of herbs. “I can only speculate on what went through her mind. She was a complicated creature.”

  That seemed a kind word to describe his wife, but he agreed that there had been nothing easy about Cecily.

  Her mother stared into the distance. “She was unhappy with some of her father’s decisions. Perhaps she protested through her actions or thought to change his mind. I cannot fathom that she believed her father would force her into marriage, especially if the union would take her from home. He spoiled her beyond what was correct, but what was he to do under those circumstances? She shouldn’t have tested him.”

  Daniel joined Cecily’s mother on the bench and inhaled the pungent scent rising from the herbs. Cecily was a mystery he’d been trying to puzzle out for years. To hear her mother hadn’t understood her any better eased his conscience.

  What he had comprehended about his wife was her distaste for marriage and despair at leaving Port Albis. Even after their passionate interludes aboard ship, she would beg to return home. He had sensed she used those moments when he sought a connection with her to bend him to her will, but he had been powerless in the beginning to resist her.

  He had wanted to love Cecily, to be an adequate husband when he’d taken his vows, to save her from whatever lingered behind those expressionless eyes. But in the end, he had hardened his heart toward her. It had seemed the only means of his survival.

  When Cecily had complained of feeling ill, Daniel had discounted it as another attempt at manipulation. It wasn’t until she was too sick to recover that he’d realized his folly in not alerting the ship’s surgeon. She succumbed to illness two days later, having refused to hear his apologies.

  His hand found her mother’s and wrapped around her slender fingers. “Indulgence didn’t cause your daughter’s death.”

  Her gaze swept over his face, a groove etched into her brow. “Please, tell me what happened. You mentioned before that she became ill.”

  “A stomach ailment.”

  She nodded. “I see.”

  He looked away, focusing on the purple flowers against the green of the herb. He didn’t wish to see her expression when he told her the rest. “If I had acted sooner—I should have called for the surgeon. Perhaps something could have been done to save her.”

  Her tears fell on their joined hands. “She still would have succumbed to the illness. The damage had been done before you took her away.”

  Daniel sighed and offered her a handkerchief. This conversation was accomplishing nothing. He began to suspect Cecily’s mother saw herself in competition with him for most vile creature on earth, and it was his title to defend. “If I may be blunt…”

  “When are you not, dear boy?”

  Fair enough. “I think this entire affair has rendered you a bit touched in the head.”

  She jerked the handkerchief from his grasp to dab at her cheeks. “I’m in full possession of my faculties, sir.”

  He suppressed a smile. His comment hit its mark and elicited the response he desired. Perhaps he was being selfish, but he preferred her irritation to her consuming sorrow.

  “Everything started a year before your marriage,” she said. “I intercepted a message meant for the governor. It was from the blackguard we had hired to paint Cecily’s portrait.”

  Daniel’s fingers curled into fists. Any involvement with that devil didn’t bode well.

  “He claimed Cecily had posed for a risqué portrait, and he threatened to display it for public viewing unless we paid the price he demanded. All I had in my possession was my pin money, but I promised to pay him over time. It took me months, but after I paid the last installment, he released her portrait. I still can’t
believe Cecily degraded herself in such a manner. I couldn’t possibly have allowed her father to learn the truth.”

  She folded the cotton square embroidered with Daniel’s initial and picked at the threads. “His Excellency worshiped our daughter. Cecily was his most prized possession. I decided no one could ever see her like that. The knowledge would have destroyed my husband.

  “When I confronted her with the evidence, she admitted to her wrongdoing. She swore she loved the deplorable man and wished to marry him.” The first lady’s face flooded with color. “She said he had compromised her, but claimed they had used precautions. Good heavens. She shouldn’t have known anything of such a nature.”

  “I’ll kill him,” he muttered.

  “I am afraid someone else has already done the honor in Nassau.”

  The slow burning fury inside him wasn’t squelched. Somehow, it didn’t seem good enough that the man met with an early demise, not after the suffering he had caused Cecily’s mother.

  She sniffled. “Almost a month before your ship docked, Cecily came to me in confidence. She carried the artist’s child, and she was despondent. He didn’t want children, and she feared he would toss her aside if he learned of her condition. When I refused to assist her with ending the pregnancy, she threatened to end her life.” Her mother grasped his hand and leaned toward him. “Daniel, the look in her eyes…”

  “I understand, Your Excellency.” He had innocently speculated on how many sons Cecily might bear him the night she had perched on the balcony railing and threatened to throw herself into the sea. She had been like a cornered, wild animal.

  Her mother wiped her eyes. “Given the choices, I procured an herbal remedy to assist her, but I demanded she end her association with the man. Her father would never allow her to marry him. He had already denied his suit. All the man wished to know was the amount of Cecily’s dowry.” She sighed and all life seemed to drain from her. “Cecily promised to ingest only the small amount as directed. I should have known not to trust her. It wasn’t until she prepared for your departure to England that I learned what she had done. She requested more for the journey because she had ingested the entire jar in three days. She reasoned that she hadn’t seen results as quickly as she had wished and therefore needed to take more.”

  “And you believe this killed her many weeks later?” He shook his head and stood. It was time to put an end to this conversation. He couldn’t allow her mother to carry his burden, no matter how badly he wished to hoist it on someone else. “Cecily died from tainted food and my neglect to summon the surgeon soon enough.”

  The first lady tipped her head to the side and looked up at him. “Did any of your crew suffer from the same effects? Did any of them die?”

  “No, but they were all men. We’re stronger. We don’t easily succumb to ailments.” He offered his hand. “We should return now.”

  She accepted his assistance and rose from the bench. They moved arm in arm toward the mansion. “Comfrey is a dangerous herb. I had to know what might happen to her after I learned what she had done. My source told me ingesting too much brings on a liver ailment, symptoms that appear to be a stomach illness.”

  Daniel stopped and looked into her troubled eyes. Good God. She wasn’t grasping at loose threads after all, was she? She spoke with sincerity and a quiet pain that comes with knowing the awful truth.

  “Please, I must know if I’m correct. Would you describe her pallor as having been yellowish?”

  His mouth felt dry and he tried to swallow. Cecily’s complexion had been disconcerting, an unnatural pallor that still made him shudder. Was there nothing he could have done to save her? “Aye, she bore a yellowish tinge.”

  “The comfrey—dear heavens, her death is my fault. I killed her.” She choked on a sob.

  Placing a comforting arm around her shoulders, Daniel supported her weight. To feel responsible for another’s death was a special torment he didn’t wish upon her.

  After a while, she hugged him close and patted his back in an affectionate gesture mothers reserved for their sons. “I hope someday you may find it in your heart to forgive me for keeping this horrible secret.”

  Daniel might have mustered the energy for indignation, but for the first time in years, the dark cloud casting his life in shadow had lifted a little. All he felt was gratitude to her for opening his eyes to the possibility he might be blameless. “There is nothing to forgive, Your Excellency.”

  He offered his arm and began escorting her back to the house.

  “Daniel, may I offer a word of advice?”

  He nodded.

  “You have mourned my daughter long enough. It’s not right for you to stop living just because Cecily is gone.” She stopped and turned to face him. Her intense ice blue eyes bore into him, making him squirm inside. “You mustn’t mask your sorrow with rum and whores any longer.”

  Damnation. He really wished the lady possessed less boldness, not to mention fewer spies around Port Albis.

  “Please, release my daughter’s memory to me. I will keep it safe in my heart always.” She squeezed his hand, fresh tears in her eyes. “It’s time to love again, my boy, and I think that young lady, Lisette, deserves more than you’ve been willing to offer her.”

  Daniel snapped his mouth closed. He didn’t wish to discuss Lisette. She was his concern alone, and he would do right by her. He certainly didn’t require anyone to hold his feet to the fire to encourage him to offer for her.

  ***

  Louis reclined in his chair and sipped his brandy. “Would you care for a drink first, Monsieur Baptiste?”

  The gentleman’s expression remained blank. What was going through his mind? Louis might attempt to draw it from him, but he suspected nothing but air resided between the man’s two ears.

  Eventually, Baptiste gave a sharp nod.

  Pascal hurried to the decanter when Louis glanced his way. From his vantage point behind his desk, Louis studied Charles Baptiste’s appearance with a disdainful sniff. His jacket sported worn elbows and a button dangled from his waistcoat. It was hard to believe Lisette could care one whit about Baptiste.

  “I’m unconvinced you will be of any service to me. Perhaps I should toss you overboard to reserve our rations.” Louis leered over the rim of his glass when Baptiste recoiled. “Convince me you have influence with my fiancée, and I shall spare your life.”

  Pascal plunked a tumbler of brandy on the table in front of Baptiste. The man tested the glass with his fingertips before closing his hand around the container and taking a sip.

  “Miss Lavigne listens to me on most occasions,” he said in a raspy voice. “I’m like a father to her.”

  “Let’s hope you are correct. If you fail to produce the desired response from Miss Lavigne, you are no use to me. The sharks, however, will consider you a tasty morsel.”

  Baptiste frowned and grabbed the glass from the table.

  Louis held his empty tumbler out for Pascal to refill. “Robert Lavigne was your business partner. What did you know of his dealings?”

  Baptiste’s glass halted halfway to his lips. “I kept his books. He ran a profitable sugar plantation. This is all I know of his business.”

  “You were more than his bookkeeper, Monsieur Baptiste. I had you investigated.”

  His eyebrows lifted. “Investigated? For what purpose?”

  “I’m a careful man. I probe into the backgrounds of all my associates.”

  Baptiste grunted and took a gulp of his drink. “We are hardly associates, sir.”

  “Yet you will help me bring my fiancée back to New Orleans where she belongs, will you not?”

  “If the Cecily has already departed when we reach Port Albis, will you abandon your chase?”

  “No.” Louis shrugged one shoulder. “We shall catch her in open sea. She is too clumsy to escape the Mihos. Where we catch her makes no difference to me. I will return with my property, every piece of it.”

  “And what, pray tell, will
you do with Miss Lavigne?”

  “I will wed her, of course. And then she will learn to become an obedient wife, even if I must deliver a stern lesson every day of our marriage.”

  “And the boy?”

  Louis sneered. “What concern is it of yours what becomes of the idiot? He pleases my future wife, so I suspect he will be useful in convincing her to bend to my will.”

  Baptiste frowned but refrained from speaking, which demonstrated wise judgment in Louis’s estimation.

  ***

  Serafine threw her belongings in the new trunk she had purchased in town. Captain Hillary had sent word midmorning the Cecily would depart within the hour and anything not on the ship at the appointed time would be left behind.

  Her family would not be one of those things stranded in Port Albis.

  The captain’s change in plans had caught everyone off guard, but Serafine didn’t mind leaving her humiliation behind on the island.

  Gracious. What a fool she had made of herself by offering to sleep with the captain. She had known the risks involved, but she hadn’t prepared herself for his rejection. Even Isaac had deigned to bed her. She hadn’t been good enough to marry, but she made for an adequate partner between the sheets.

  For three months she had been his mistress and fooled herself into believing Isaac Tucker loved her. When it was time to take a wife, she had felt certain he would offer for her. Never mind that young white men never married outside of their culture. She had believed Isaac was different.

  The room blurred as tears filled her eyes. Why did she hurt after all this time? Isaac left for the Continent weeks ago, and she had received no word from him, not that she’d anticipated she would. She had hoped for a letter begging for her forgiveness and proclaiming his love, but she had never expected it.

  Their last encounter should have extinguished any optimism that he might realize his mistake in leaving her. As he had said, his parents demanded he marry a lady of good breeding, and her Creole lineage didn’t fit with their dreams of upward mobility. Isaac had always been too quick to heed his mother’s wishes. Serafine was better off without him.