Enthusiastic about capturing his attention, Paulette leaned toward him, her fingers tracing figures in the air as she talked. She was still talking animatedly whenThe Black Nagended and the sets dispersed. Vanessa glanced over at them, a faint frown of annoyance crossing her brow at the sight of them comfortably sitting at the side of the room seemingly engrossed. As quickly as it came, her irritation vanished, for she remembered her determination to ignore Mr. Talverton. She turned her head to smile up at Mr. Danielson, assenting to his suggestion to a turn about the courtyard for fresh air. Behind them followed Adeline and Mr. Wilmot.
Chapter 4
Afaint breeze stirred the trees' leaves in the small garden behind the Cathedral at the Place d’Armes. Vanessa, seated on a low bench, tilted her head back to capture the errant wind and cool her faintly heated face. She closed her eyes and inhaled the delicious mingled scents of the garden flowers. Ignoring the muted cacophony of sounds emanating from the busy square less than a block away, she let the peace of the small garden seep through her, concentrating instead on the sound of the birds conversing in neighboring trees.
“Mon Dieu, mais mon pieds,they are tired,” sighed Paulette, resting her feet on the small pile of parcels that were the fruits of their labors amid the many shops in New Orleans.
Vanessa slitted one eye open to glance at her friend seated next to her. “You, tired? Then assuredly, we must return home at once!” she declared, a teasing smile lifting the corners of her mouth.
"Pour quoi?"
“The only time I have known you to tire is when you’re ill. You must be put to bed immediately.”
Paulette’s mouth formed a moue of dissatisfaction with Vanessa’s humor. “And you, you tell me you are not tired?”
“Certainly I am, but I don’t profess to your vigor.” She sighed contentedly as dappled sunlight shifted across her face when a small gust toyed with the leaves above, sighing as it passed. “I will admit, however, that sitting here is doing much to restore my dreadfully flagging spirits.”
"Bon,"declared Paulette, “for you must be in the best of spirits for tonight.”
Vanessa grimaced at the reminder of the theater party her father arranged. “I fear it will be awkward at best. I have two suitors accompanying us, while Adeline has none.” She straightened, her eyes opening. “Worse yet, Father wishes me to be nice to Mr. Talverton, which would annoy you andmytwo erstwhile suitors, to say nothing of annoying me to be in proximity of the gentleman.”
A bubbling laugh spilled from Paulette. “Rest assured, I shall take care of Mr. Talverton and Mr. Mannion. He will not mind.”
“And what of Adeline?” Vanessa’s tone was full of exasperation, for she had been troubled by this problem since her father had issued the invitations on the night of the ball.
“You make of it too much a problem,” Paulette said airily.
“So you say, but I am at a loss.”
Paulette shook her head tolerantly. “Vanessa, think! You will devote your attention to Mr. Wilmot, for that gentleman is becoming, how do you say it?Jaloux?"
“Jealous.”
“Oui, merci.He followed you around the ball with a ferocious scowl, even when he was dancing with me! I know. It was an insult I would bear for no one but you.”
“That’s preposterous.”
“No, Vanessa, it is not. You, you must open your eyes and see! You spend too much time thinking and worrying and little time seeing. You did not even consider Mr. Danielson a suitor until Adeline said he was one. Then your mind took over, and you have been dissecting the man like an insect, weighing his suitability, judging your feelings. Bah! One day, my friend, you will awaken. I hope you do before you find yourself married to the wrong man or too old to capture one.”
Vanessa laughed. “You’re impossible, Paulette, and so ardent.”
“Am I?Phtt,n'important pas.Let us return to tonight. You will give your attention to Mr. Wilmot, let Adeline succor Mr. Danielson. He is a good-natured gentleman; he will not slight her. Mr. Wilmot would overwhelm her into a silent doorstop,” she said carelessly.
“A what?”
“A doorstop,” Paulette averred. “She would be just there, a prop, no more.”
“You’re probably correct, and with Mr. Danielson, she’s known him long enough to feel comfortable conversing, at least about his children if nothing else. He did put her in quite good spirits at the ball,” Vanessa admitted.
“You see, it is tres convenable."
Vanessa sighed. “You are probably correct.” She straightened, distractedly fiddling with the ends of her shawl. Her older sister never had such a complicated courtship, she mused. Louisa knew immediately upon meeting Charles Chaumonde that he was the man she would marry, and his response to her was equally straightforward. It was uncommon for a Creole man to marry an American woman. Yet, their differences melted like ice in warm water from the instant they met, then blended to create something infinitely more significant than their separate identities. Love, she called it. A pang of envy stabbed Vanessa. She wished she understood that emotion Louisa sighed about whenever she talked of Charles. The next time she saw Louisa, she must make her explain.
Vanessa dropped the shawl’s fringe and pulled the garment closer around her. “I wonder what Charles is doing,” she said suddenly.
“Mon frère?”Paulette looked at Vanessa strangely, struggling to follow the train of her thoughts.
“Yes, I was just thinking of him and Louisa and realized we hadn’t seen him in a while. Why don’t we see if we can persuade him to invite us to lunch?”
