Rouge (#1 in the Cheveux Roux series) Page 12

  A knot closed in my throat. The pain of my fight with Beau and our resulting distance was still so fresh, I wasn’t sure I could be convincing in my answer. But I determined to push it all down again and hold it down before my runaway emotions ruined everything.

  I slipped out of Freddie’s arms and turned away, stepping over to my dressing table. “Are you sure that’s what you want?”

  He closed the distance between us quickly, clutching my upper arms in his hands. I felt the heat of his body at my back. “It’s what I’ve dreamed of for almost a year now. Even more in these last few weeks.”

  I clenched my eyes shut, fighting the pain of what was coming and what it would mean. “When is your father expecting to meet me?”

  “Tomorrow at lunch? I was thinking of that same little place as last time.” He released my arms with a final squeeze and walked back toward the door. “That’s sort of where it all began. At least, that’s when I felt certain at last. Of your feelings.”

  The lightness of his voice was in direct opposition to the feelings in my chest, but I inhaled a sobering breath and turned, crossing the room to where he stood. And for the first time, I took his hand and lifted it.

  “It would be an honor to think of you as a suitor. And whatever else you might decide.”

  He smiled and traced a line along my cheek. “So beautiful,” he murmured. Then he leaned forward and lightly kissed my lips before turning to go. I watched him disappear through the door and leaned my head against the frame, holding back tears.

  Teeny returned looking sorrowful. “Oh, Hale.”

  “What?” I sniffed and lifted my chin.

  “Freddie’s going to propose, and you’re going to say yes.”

  “What did you expect?”

  I went to my table and sat, reaching for the pot and massaging cold cream into my skin. I grabbed a tissue to wipe it away along with the dampness that had sneaked out of my eyes. I would not cry.

  “But you love Beau.”

  Our eyes met in the mirror and for a moment it was only us. The two of us looking into the face of my decision.

  I looked away again. “That doesn’t matter. This is about our future and taking care of us. And anyway, I’d expect you to be happy about it.”

  She rushed over and leaned on the dressing table to face me. “So you’ve started to love Freddie a little? Is that it?”

  I looked straight into her eyes and thought about her and about my answer. “Yes,” I lied. “Something like that.”

  She stood straight and frowned, shaking her head. “I don’t believe you. And I don’t… I don’t understand you!”

  “None of that matters. You just have to trust me.”

  * * *

  My throat was tight with fear as we approached the small restaurant off Royal Street. Freddie’s father was sure to ask all sorts of questions I didn’t know the answers to, and once again, our fate hinged on my ability to perform.

  “You can’t hide where you live forever,” Freddie smiled after picking me up in front of the theater. “I’ll have to ask for your hand at some point, and then it will all be out.”

  I bit my lip and looked in a shop window as we made our way down the street. “Gavin’s the one you’ll have to ask. And the theater is his home.”

  “Ah, yes. I suppose he is your guardian now that your family’s gone,” Freddie concurred. “I do wish he’d been available to join us.”

  I silently agreed. It would’ve been nice to have a buffer who knew my fake history, too. But I hadn’t seen Gavin since the night I sneaked out with Beau, and I wasn’t sure if his seeing me out meant I was in trouble or not. I might have a promise, but Gavin had always kept a close watch on me. And I’d always done my best to avoid crossing him. Images of that night with Beau came pressing in on me, but with painful determination, I shoved them back out again.

  “After lunch, I wonder if you might accompany me to buy a new hat,” Freddie said. “I’m sure you’ll find it dreadfully boring, but there’s a wonderful gray one I saw at Philippe’s in the Quarter. I’d like your opinion of it.”

  “Of course,” I said, distracted.

  We were at the restaurant, and Freddie held the door as I entered. A tall gentleman with smooth gray hair and a familiar cleft in his chin rose from one of the tables in the back. His face was like a stone, and for a moment, I was unsure whether to proceed.

  Freddie placed his hand on my lower back, and I made my way across the mosaic tiles to where his father waited. As I walked, the old man evaluated me with stern eyes the same color as his son’s, and I felt a familiar bead of perspiration tickle down the line in the center of my back, stopping where Freddie’s hand now rested. His father did not smile as I drew closer and his gaze never broke until I was standing before him. My hand trembled when he lifted it to his lips.

  “Freddie said you were very charming.” His voice was still stern, but I saw something flicker across his eyes. “He wasn’t exaggerating.”

  He smiled and lowered my hand. I started to breathe again, and Freddie laughed.

  “I told you, Father.”

  He pulled out my chair and I sat, but I wasn’t sure I was out of the woods yet. The elder Lovel was kind, but he was also cautious with his only son and heir.

  “Freddie tells me you lost your parents,” he said, once the waiter was gone.

  “Yes, sir,” I answered. I didn’t say more in the hopes that he might do most of the talking, or at least say what Freddie had told him.

  He shook his head and spoke in a grave voice. “The war was a difficult time for everyone. Some gave more than others.”

  I bowed my head and studied my gloved hands in my lap. “It is hard to think of those days. I’m very lucky it all ended before I can remember.”

  “Still, to lose one’s entire family,” he continued, studying me. “Exactly what part of France were they from? With such an olive complexion, I would guess the south.”

  I tensed, but I continued to play ignorant. It allowed the least opportunity for getting caught in a lie.

  “I don’t know, exactly,” I answered. “Once they left, very little was revealed to me.”

  “Hm...” Mr. Lovel lifted his coffee cup and took a sip. “I’m not familiar with the surname Ferrer.”

  I reached for my coffee cup as well, until Freddie spoke.

  “Father, will you ever save your coffee for dessert? Forgive him, my dear. I’ve ordered a nice wine that should be here any moment.”

  I kept my hand moving past my cup to the glass of water beside it. “Your father has earned the privilege of doing as he pleases. And he is very kind.”

  “If we at least knew something of your family,” Mr. Lovel murmured. “For the sake of the children, I mean.”

  “Father,” Freddie seemed embarrassed. “We haven’t quite gotten that far.”

  “Oh, come now,” Mr. Lovel groused.

  I touched Freddie’s arm. “Your father’s right. We should consider the future.”

  “Perhaps we can talk to this Gavin fellow and see what he knows.”

  My body was tense, but I smiled and nodded. If Gavin had gotten me this far, I had to trust he’d get me to the end.

  “Well, he’s told me as much as I need to know,” Freddie interjected, and the warmth in his eyes reassured me of his plans for us. Now it was just a matter of hastening him along.

  Once again, my feelings for Beau raged in my chest, but I fought them down. I’d shed my tears for him at a later date, when everything was settled and we were safe. And I was alone.

  The waiter appeared with small plates of that same dark green and purple salad, and the conversation thankfully moved away from me.

  “Where do we stand with Fontenot?” Mr. Lovell asked his son as he stabbed the bitter greens.

  “We don’t,” Freddie answered in a sharp tone.

  I’d never heard him speak that way, and I glanced up to see his steel-gray eyes clash with his father’s.

  “
What?” Mr. Lovel’s voice was stern. “He’s got 500 oyster bottoms in Calcasieu alone, and he promised—”

  “Lies,” Freddie interrupted. “He fabricated the whole thing, and if it weren’t for Landry’s investigation, we’d have lost thousands.”

  Mr. Lovel sat back and pressed his fingertips together. Then he stretched one hand forward to retrieve his coffee cup, which he again raised to his lips. “Good man, that Landry.”

  “He’s very good,” Freddie said. “And I’m disgusted at the level of deception in this city. It’s as if everyone doing business is in some form of graft.”

  I cringed, but thankfully the waiter blocked my view of Freddie as he removed our salad plates. I was sure my own guilt was evident on my face as it flashed across my mind, but our entrées distracted their attention.

  We were each given large servings of white fish crisped golden brown and accompanied by a pinkish-orange sauce. Beside it was a mixture of yellow corn, green peppers, red tomatoes, and black beans, and Mr. Lovel’s eyebrows rose as he lifted his long fork and began to eat. The delicious aroma made my stomach rumble, but my feelings at Freddie’s words had closed my throat.

  “What of his holdings in Port Eads?” Mr. Lovel asked between bites.

  “We didn’t go that far,” Freddie said, also lifting his fork. “I refused to engage the imposter. He’d lie and then produce three others to back him up.”

  His father nodded, but didn’t respond. My stomach was in knots, and all I could think about was how many were involved in backing up my deception.

  “This is why I need you here,” his father finally said. “I’m too old to be tracking down everyone’s stories.”

  “This is why we need to be in steel,” Freddie countered. “We can easily keep tabs on it from Paris, and steel is the future. The sooner we’re out of this city, the better.”

  Mr. Lovel glanced at me and smiled. “I’m sorry, dear. I’m afraid we’ve spoiled your lunch with our discussion.”

  I smiled back at him despite the tension in my neck. “It seems to be an important discussion.”

  “Father’s right,” Freddie said, covering my hand with his. “These things can be handled in the office. We shouldn’t bore you with them here.”

  The men finished their plates, and our waiter appeared with a boy to sweep all three settings away. In their place, small ramekins of a dark chocolate soufflé were set before each of us, and the rich smell drifting from them convinced me I might have an appetite after all.

  “What business was your father in, Miss Ferrer?” Mr. Lovel took a small bite before turning to me.

  I had lifted a small spoon of the rich dessert to my mouth, but I paused. “I’m not sure, sir.”

  I didn’t know what would be considered a good occupation for a gentleman, or what Gavin might’ve said my parents did.

  “Why, it just occurred to me,” he continued, glancing at Freddie and then back to me. “Perhaps Landry could help us track down your family. Presuming there’s anyone left.”

  “Oh, lord, no!” I almost dropped my spoon. “I mean, I-I’m sure, well. It sounds as if you’ve far better use for him than my personal concerns.”

  “That’s not a bad idea, Father,” Freddie turned to give me a warm look. “After all, darling, our personal concerns will soon become one.”

  I struggled to keep the panic from registering on my face as I returned the spoonful of dessert to my bowl uneaten. “Of course.”

  “Well, I confess,” Mr. Lovel said, placing his utensil next to his now-empty dish. “I had my doubts about you, Miss Ferrer.”

  “Father,” Freddie warned.

  “No,” he continued. “A singer from the Vieux Carré does not inspire confidence, but I should know by now to trust my son. You’re very charming, my dear.”

  I tried to smile as Freddie squeezed my hand.

  “And I’d rather see you happy with a lady of unknown origin than in an arranged marriage with some pedigreed Parisian who leaves you as cold as day-old bread.”

  His words were meant to cheer me, I was sure, but I was fighting to hide my fear. Mr. Lovel stood and Freddie with him, pausing to help me from my seat. We made our way to the exit, and once outside, Mr. Lovel lifted my gloved hand to his lips. This time when he kissed it, I wasn’t sure what to think about my future.

  “I also approve of this café,” Mr. Lovel noted, surveying the entrance. “With those offerings, they should do very well. It’s too bad we won’t be their oyster distributor.”

  Freddie shook his head and smiled, then he lifted my hand to the crook of his arm. He seemed amused by his father’s words and oblivious to my level of discomfort. He even whistled one of the tunes from our show as he escorted me down a few short alleys to Decatur Street. The fresh air that greeted us as we walked did little to ease the tension in my shoulders, and I renewed my commitment to finding out what Gavin had said about my parents. Even if it did mean confronting him directly.

  As we approached the flagstone courtyard of the cathedral, artists again crowded Jackson Square, but I resisted looking for Beau among them. Teeny hadn’t mentioned another art lesson, but I couldn’t be concerned about that now. The Lovels would see to it that we never had to worry about shoes or anything ever again.

  “Philippe’s is just here,” Freddie said, holding the door open to the small shop. “And don’t worry, this won’t take long.”

  I walked inside and stepped over to a small, round table holding a rainbow of assorted silk ties as Freddie walked to the display of hats. Everything in the shop was outrageously priced, and I glanced up as a young gentleman walked toward us to assist Freddie. My heart stopped when I heard his voice.

  “What size would you need, sir?”

  My head jerked, and I stared wide-eyed at Beau. As I expected, he looked amazing in a gray jacket and dark gray pants. At his neck was a light blue striped cravat that made his eyes glow when he turned them on me.

  I swirled around, facing the street through the front window, my heart racing. Regardless of my fears or my commitment to Freddie, all I could think of was my week with Beau and his ideas for taking care of us. Here he was, following through. An image of him smiling and catching my neck for a kiss as I trotted onto the stage twisted an ache of longing in the center of my chest.

  “I was considering this one,” Freddie replied, not even recognizing him. My back was still turned when he called to me, and I fought for control. “Darling, I need your opinion. Is it all wrong for me?”

  “Just a moment,” I said in an uneven voice as I pressed my palm into my stomach trying to slow my breathing. I couldn’t let Freddie see me so shaken.

  After a few moments, I felt calmer and turned back around. Thankfully Beau had his back to us and appeared to be sorting through the ties. Freddie was smiling, the grey hat perched on his head.

  I cleared my throat and smiled. “It’s very nice.”

  Freddie’s eyes narrowed. “You seem distracted,” he said. “I’m not sure I believe you.”

  “I’m sorry, darling,” I said wishing with all my heart Beau wasn’t standing there, hearing my words. “You look wonderful. Very dashing.”

  At that Beau turned his head and looked at me again. I couldn’t avoid his gaze, and I was sure my struggle was plain on my face. Freddie turned away unaware and began looking at overcoats. Beau stepped toward me, between me and my soon-to-be fiancé.

  “See anything you like?” He said in a low voice. Then he smiled, but I looked down, shaking my head.

  “I didn’t expect to have a choice.”

  He reached forward to run the back of his finger across my gloved hand. “You didn’t?” He asked softly. His touch would’ve been imperceptible if not for my reaction. My hand quickly turned, and he slid his fingers through mine. That familiar warmth flooded my chest.

  “Yes, darling,” Freddie spoke, breaking the spell. Beau continued moving past me, his hand slipping away as quickly as it had appeared. “Do you see anythin
g you like?”

  I looked around, cheeks burning. “I’m not very good at shopping.”

  Freddie smiled, walking to me. “We’ll have to remedy that situation.”

  I nodded, feeling like I might collapse from the tension. He patted my shoulder and then walked to where Beau was waiting at the counter beside a shiny, bronze cash register. They settled the transaction as I lingered at the front window, watching Beau’s every move from afar, his hand holding the pencil, lifting the hat, passing the box across the small counter. All of it hurled my seemingly settled future into a tailspin.

  We left the shop and Freddie held my arm as we walked slowly back toward the theater. I’d made up another rehearsal excuse.

  “I do hope my father’s words didn’t offend you, darling,” Freddie said as we got closer to my secret home. “He’s blunt, but he doesn’t mean any harm.”

  I shook my head, ready for our outing to be over. “Your father only wants you to be happy.”

  “I think he likes you.” Freddie patted my hand. “Now, what are you working on tonight?”

  I looked up at the darkening sky and thought about the birthday gathering Roland had planned for me this evening. So much like the one we’d shared for Evie not too long ago. I wondered who all might attend, whether Roland had invited Beau, whether Beau would come.

  “Just some minor changes this time, and then I’ll be finished,” I said.

  “I do wish he’d let me stay and watch. I adore hearing you sing.”

  We were back at the theater and I turned to face him. “Eventually it won’t matter anymore. My singing days will be through.”

  “Yes,” he nodded. “Although I will miss hearing your beautiful voice. Will you sing for me when we’re married?”

  “I’ll do whatever you like when we’re married.”

  He smiled and leaned forward, pressing our lips together in a gentle but brief kiss.

  “I think of nothing else,” he said.

  I stepped into the dark lobby and my thoughts drifted to the rooftop three hours from now. Had anything changed? Had everything changed? It wouldn’t be long until I knew.