Miss Lavigne's Little White Lie Read online

  Dear Lord, she couldn’t die like this, not with Isaac helpless to do anything. She drew in a deep breath, willing herself to stay calm.

  “I’ll tell you whatever you want to know, but please, allow Monsieur Tucker to seek aid for himself. He is bleeding.”

  Reynaud’s gaze flicked in Isaac’s direction and he paled. Closing his eyes, his throat worked convulsively and his grip on her shoulders loosened. Whatever was the matter with him?

  His dark eyes flew open and fixed on her. “Forget about him. He can’t stand. How is he to seek out aid?”

  “Please.”

  Reynaud’s lip curled. “You’re in no position to barter.”

  The monster enjoyed his domination. Hatred rolled off him, and exhilaration.

  Show him respect. Serafine cleared her throat, praying her instincts were correct. “Monsieur Reynaud, I would never have the courage to cross you. Only a fool would try to manipulate a man of exceptional intellect such as you.”

  She hoped his ability to ferret out insincerity was overshadowed by his raging arrogance.

  His brows rose slightly. A sign of interest or skepticism? She couldn’t tell.

  “I—I have too much respect for you, sir. You are much too powerful.”

  He grinned, baring most of his teeth. “You would be a reckless young woman, to be certain, but Lisette doesn’t have it in her. I questioned her many times. Subtly, of course. She knew nothing of my letters.”

  “Truly, monsieur, our wits are no match for yours. You would see through both of us if we dared to lie.”

  “Indeed.” He nodded slowly as if considering the logic of her statement. “And you claim no knowledge of blackmail or my letters?”

  Isaac panted, wincing as he held his side and tried to lift to his knees. He sank back to the floor with a pained groan.

  Stay put, please.

  Serafine forced her attention back to Reynaud. She needed to act quickly if there was any hope of helping Isaac. “Monsieur Tucker unearthed a packet the moment you arrived. You witnessed his discovery. We have no idea what it is he has found.”

  Reynaud’s jaw hardened. “How did you know to search Baptiste’s rooms?”

  Her heart tripped. Would he believe her if she spoke the truth? “I had an uneasy feeling… about Monsieur Baptiste. I cannot explain it. I thought he might know something about my brother.” She met Reynaud’s cold gaze, pleading with him to believe her. “When we didn’t find him at home, we sought clues to help me understand this feeling I have. There’s something untoward about the gentleman.”

  “Tell me what made you suspicious of Monsieur Baptiste.”

  She swallowed hard and held tight to her belief she couldn’t lose everything now that she had received everything she’d ever wanted. “I learned of the details contained in Uncle Lavigne’s will this morning. Monsieur Baptiste inherits everything if Rafe and Lisette die. I’m uncertain what any of this has to do with you being blackmailed or the packet Isaac found.”

  “Intelligent, Mademoiselle Vistoire, a woman who doesn’t ignore her animal instincts.” Reynaud released her and she stumbled against the wall before catching herself. He strolled to Isaac’s crumpled body, averting his eyes as he bent down to pick up the packet from the floor.

  “The sight of blood bothers you?”

  He shook his head slowly, looking green around the gills.

  Oh, for heaven’s sake! Serafine could have argued the point with him, but she didn’t care. If he fainted from the sight, all the better.

  She nodded toward Isaac. “How very red it is.”

  Reynaud didn’t look in Isaac’s direction again. Instead, he approached her slowly. “You’ve answered my questions remarkably well and discovered my letters, Mademoiselle Vistoire.”

  She steeled herself for the plunge of his knife, and jumped when he captured her by the shoulders again and kissed her left cheek then her right.

  “My apologies for Mr. Tucker’s injuries,” he whispered in her ear. His hot breath on her skin chilled her to the bone. “You should seek help for him at once.” Releasing her, Reynaud tucked the bundle under his arm. “I have a rendezvous I’m loath to miss, or I would offer my assistance.”

  He spun on his heel and stalked from the bedchamber. Serafine’s body quaked, and she would have collapsed to the floor except she didn’t have time to swoon. Isaac needed her.

  Thirty-two

  “The voyage won’t be the same without you, Captain.” Even though Patch sounded sincere, he grinned like a lad presented with a new toy.

  Daniel assumed a severe frown as he handed his former first mate the logbook. “I expect you to bring her back in one piece, Captain Emerson.”

  “Yes, sir.” Patch accepted the book and Daniel’s congratulatory handshake. “You won’t be disappointed.”

  The man had proven his competency many times over the years. It was a wise decision to turn the Cecily and her crew over to Patch.

  Daniel would still need to travel to New Orleans at some point to complete the guardianship proceedings, but not now. And not without Lisette.

  Last night, he had unintentionally fallen asleep onboard, and when he woke slumped over in his chair this morning, he had understood the true meaning of loss. He’d thought he had known grief when Cecily died, and he had mourned her. She was a young and capricious lady struck down before gaining the wisdom of adulthood.

  But Daniel felt the loss of Lisette deep in his heart. She had become a part of him that gave him purpose and lent meaning to his existence. She had taught him to live. And how to love.

  Now, when he looked around his quarters, he saw Lisette singly softly as she tidied his office. The balcony held sweet memories of shared kisses as the sun sank into the sea. Even Amelia’s forgotten copy of Byron sitting on his shelves reminded him of nights with Lisette. She had read to him in their bed, and he’d changed the poems to nonsense just to hear her bewitching laughter.

  Mad as a March hare. That was the only explanation he had to explain how he had thought he could sail away from her. Lisette was his life, and he must tell her at once.

  “Excuse my abrupt exit, Captain Emerson, but I have a rendezvous I don’t wish to miss.”

  “Aye, Captain. Until we meet again.”

  Daniel hurried from the great cabin and down the gangplank to the waiting carriage. How fortuitous it would be to discover his wife still in bed.

  ***

  Rafe’s rocking ceased as the carriage rolled away from the town house, but he still recited the class of every ship in his repertoire.

  Lisette glanced at the brooch watch pinned to her gown. She had no way of knowing the schedule of the tides, so it was pointless to consult the time, but her action was compulsive. Withdrawing into herself, she prepared for the coming confrontation with her husband.

  She had no recourse, obviously, but Daniel would be well acquainted with her opinions on the subject of adultery before she left ship. Her limbs trembled with unspoken indignation. He had lied to her, pretending to fear for her safety when all along he sought to keep her ignorant of his mistress.

  “Wrong way,” Rafe murmured. “Wrong way.”

  She patted his knee and tried to exude serenity she didn’t feel. “Shh, we are going to the docks now. You shall see the Cecily.”

  Scooting closer and draping her arm around his shoulders, Lisette stared out the carriage window. She didn’t wish to ruminate on Daniel’s betrayal. There would be many months to come to torture herself without wearing herself down now.

  “Wrong way.” Rafe slowly began to rock again. “Wrong way. Wrong way.”

  Lisette glanced at the landscape outside and sat up straighter. She glanced across the carriage toward Monsieur Baptiste. “Why, I believe Rafe is correct. The driver appears to be going the wrong direction.”

  Monsieur Baptiste looked out the window and shrugged. “Surely, you’re mistaken. We must be on course.”

  The sun was to their backs. There was no doubt th
e carriage was driving away from the docks. “We must travel east to reach the docks. Notify the driver to turn back, monsieur.”

  Rafe whimpered, his rocking becoming more pronounced.

  Monsieur Baptiste smiled in a placating manner. “I’m certain the driver will turn in a moment, and you will see we are following the correct course.”

  As he predicted, the driver turned left at the next intersection and another turn corrected their direction. Lisette sank against the cushion with a sigh. Her husband’s betrayal soon invaded her mind again. Immersed in her anger, she almost missed the carriage’s change in course, but Rafe’s high-pitched squeal alerted her.

  “Monsieur Baptiste, something is amiss. The driver possesses no sense of direction. He seems to be taking us in circles.”

  “Nothing to be concerned about, dear girl.”

  His dismissal stoked her already ill-temper. “Monsieur, we must stop this carriage at once.” She reached across the carriage to knock on the roof to signal the driver to stop.

  Monsieur Baptiste shoved her back against the seat. “Do stop carrying on, Lisette. I don’t know which of you is more trying, you or your idiot sibling.”

  “How dare you?”

  Monsieur Baptiste rolled his eyes as he reached inside his jacket and withdrew a small firearm, pointing it at her and her brother.

  Lisette gasped and drew Rafe against her bosom, wrapping her arms around him to shield him from harm. “I am not amused by your antics, sir. Put that away before you accidentally discharge it.”

  “I’m skilled with pistols, madame. You needn’t worry my firearm would go off by accident.” He yanked the curtains closed on his side of the carriage then motioned her to follow suit, but she refused to relinquish her brother. “I can only shoot one of you, Lisette. You decide which of you it shall be.”

  She pulled Rafe closer. “What are you about, monsieur? It is I, the daughter of your dearest friend.”

  He scoffed. “Very well. If you will not choose…” He aimed the gun at Rafe.

  “No, please!” She threw herself in front of her brother, her arms out to the side.

  Rafe’s whimpers escalated into shrieks, and he pushed against her back.

  Monsieur Baptiste leaned across the carriage and snatched her arm. “Close the curtains, or you will take a ball to the head. Then I shall strike Rafe with the smoking barrel.”

  Mon dieu. Who was this man? She had known him all her life, but he was a stranger. A sob caught in her throat. “Please, don’t hurt Rafe. I will do whatever you ask of me.”

  “Then quiet the little bastard and close the damned curtains.”

  His insult slammed against her gut. “He is not a bastard,” she snapped, unable to let the comment slide. He had a father who had loved and protected him once. Now it was Lisette’s calling to keep him safe.

  She snatched the curtains and jerked them closed then cradled Rafe against her side. She attempted to focus his attention on reciting ships again. “Baltimore flyer, galleon, frigate. You say them now, Rafe.” His cries grew louder.

  Please, please be silent. “Andromeda, Antila, Apus, Aquarius.” Lisette murmured the constellations as best as she could recall in alphabetical order. “Come on, Rafe. Help me recite the constellations. Aquila, Ara, Aries, Auriga…”

  Rafe’s rocking slowed incrementally as she progressed through the constellations. Eventually, he took over, whispering the names to himself. “Delphinus, Dorado, Draco.”

  “Very good, Lisette.” Monsieur Baptiste flashed a pleasant smile. “Now, pass me your reticule.”

  “You have kidnapped us to lift my reticule?”

  He pointed the barrel at Rafe again. “Your questioning makes me weary.”

  “Fine. You may have it, but it clashes with your waistcoat.” Lisette suppressed the urge to hurl her purse at him. She would not risk having the pistol fire in the confines of the carriage. At this range, he would not miss. “If it is money you seek, I can provide more if you allow us to go unharmed. Daniel has plenty. He will pay for Rafe’s safety.”

  Monsieur Baptiste sneered. “You always were naive, Lisette, but your father preferred you that way. I judged him a dolt for believing naïveté was an asset. But I must say, it has worked to my advantage these past months.”

  Monsieur Baptiste placed the gun beside him on the bench and unclasped her reticule. Reaching into his jacket pocket, he extracted folded sheets of paper and stuffed them inside.

  “What are you doing?”

  “More questions. Perhaps you have never heard hell was fashioned for the inquisitive, madame.” He threw her reticule across the carriage. It smacked against her chest, and she scrambled to keep it from tumbling to the floor.

  Monsieur Baptiste shoved the pistol back inside his jacket as the carriage slowed to a crawl then stopped.

  The door flung open.

  “Greetings, my dear.”

  Her vision narrowed on the new arrival and a whirlpool of dizziness tried to suck her under.

  “Reynaud.” Lisette tucked Rafe tighter against her side, grasping at something to keep herself afloat. There was solace in togetherness, but her brother squirmed from her embrace with a small grunt of protest and retreated into himself. His vacant eyes stared through her. She wanted to shake him, demand he stay present.

  Reynaud clambered inside the carriage and slammed the door. “I liked when you referred to me as Louis. No warm greeting, my dear? Perhaps a kiss upon my cheek?”

  She would sooner kiss a toad. Lisette shrank away from him, and he laughed before assuming the seat across from her.

  Monsieur Baptiste glowered. “Where have you been? We’ve been circling the block.”

  Reynaud waved off his concerns. “My jacket was soiled, and I required a fresh one for Mademoiselle Lavigne.”

  The carriage jerked forward to continue their journey.

  Reynaud smiled as if this encounter was a social call. “You look as lovely as ever, my dear.”

  Her spine felt forged of metal. “It is Mrs. Hillary now. I am married, monsieur.”

  “Oui. How could I have forgotten?” His blue eyes darkened as he reached across the carriage to stroke her cheek with his finger.

  She froze. Her breath, heartbeat, the blood in her veins paused.

  “It was poor form running away in the middle of the night, Lisette. Your antics have vexed me a great deal.” Reynaud’s finger lingered against her skin. “So exquisite. I deeply regret having played the gentleman with you. I suspect your captain plowed you like a whore as soon as the opportunity presented. Pity. I would have treated you with a gentle hand.”

  Hatred writhed within her belly, but common sense stopped her from striking back. Instead, she appealed to Monsieur Baptiste, her father figure. “Monsieur, you helped us escape New Orleans. Please, tell me he has threatened your well-being. You cannot be his accomplice.” She would latch on to any reason to explain his treachery. “What did he do to you on ship?”

  “Nothing he didn’t agree to undergo for the sake of appearances,” Reynaud said. “The good captain wouldn’t have allowed just anyone to board his ship, but a battered, helpless victim stood a chance at earning his trust. Add to the equation your fondness for monsieur and the odds were improved.”

  Reynaud dropped against his seat with a weary sigh. “Lisette, my dear, you have stumbled upon an important life lesson. One you shall never forget.”

  The smug gleam in Monsieur Baptiste’s eyes startled her. Reynaud had not coerced him into assisting. The man she had grown to respect, the one who’d been her confidant, had willingly betrayed her.

  “Why, monsieur?” she whispered.

  “Profit, my dear,” Reynaud said.

  She had always believed Monsieur Baptiste was honorable. “You are both despicable. How did I not see your true natures from the start?”

  Reynaud formed a peak with his fingers, his posture relaxed. “Allow me to enlighten you on the ways of men.”

  Oh, sweet Mary
above! She’d had enough of his enlightening speeches during their betrothal.

  “Men are not so different from the beasts of the land, Lisette. We are all predators of some sort, not in the same class, but all very dangerous. The biggest distinction is in how we are identified.”

  Her mouth filled with derisive words she wished to heap on him, and would have if not for Rafe’s small frame curled against her side.

  Reynaud’s eyebrow lifted as if he knew she was insulting him in her mind. “When you stand in the presence of a lion, you prepare yourself for the deadly pounce. You know it’s coming. The mighty cat knows it too. There are no pretenses between hunter and prey. You have no doubts you face an adversary, and you have the choice of fight or flight.”

  Lisette’s gaze focused on Reynaud; her breath grew shallow in agitated anticipation. His hands dropped to his lap and she flinched.

  “You comprehend my meaning, do you not?” He smiled as if pleased by her jumpiness. “Now, consider the duck-billed platypus. Such an odd creature, appearing to be half duck, half beaver. It waddles on short legs with webbed feet, so comical and disarming. A harmless appearing creature. Yet in reality, the male of the species is venomous. He has hidden spurs on his legs that release a substance that can incapacitate a human.”

  Monsieur Baptiste’s mouth puckered as if he’d licked a lemon. “Please, spare us your inane mutterings of the animal kingdom.”

  Reynaud chuckled, but a fierce gleam sparked in his eye. “Monsieur does not like being compared to the platypus, but he is no lion. He uses deception to confuse his prey. His success depends on his ability to maintain his pretense long enough to strike. I, on the other hand, have might on my side.”

  “Enough of your blathering.” Monsieur Baptiste swiped her reticule from the seat and shook it in Reynaud’s direction. “She has your letters.”

  “He lies. Monsieur put them in my reticule moments before you joined us.”

  Reynaud opened the bag, reached inside, and extracted the folded sheets of foolscap. He frowned as he leafed through the letters. Holding one up, his lips quirked. “Miss Paulina Fanchon. My dear, why are you in possession of correspondence from a known paramour? Or did Monsieur Baptiste place this one in your reticule, too?”