“Vanessa, did you hear?” Paulette breathlessly asked as she did a little hop.
“Hear what?” Charles asked, coming out the French doors and shutting them firmly behind him.
“Oysters! There are fresh oysters in the marketplace!”
A puzzled expression twisted Hugh’s brow. “I thought we were discussing drums.”
Vanessa laughed. “Drums are played when a ship docks with a fresh load of oysters.”
“Ah, I take it, Miss Chaumonde, you like oysters."
"Like is too mild a word,” grimaced her brother. “I need not ask what she would like for lunch and have immediately reconciled myself to banishing the idea of a nice meal in a quiet cafe. I hope, Mr. Talverton, that your feet are not tired. Unless we are fortunate and find a vacant bench along the levee, we shall be standing as we eat.”
Laughing, Vanessa hooked her arm in her brother-in- law’s and prodded him toward the market. “We shall eat until past sated, then wander through the market and enjoy a pleasant hour.”
“After which I shall have to return to the office and try to concentrate on my legal work while you two will no doubt return home to nap before some social engagement this evening. You have me at a disadvantage, Vanessa."
"Hmm,” she replied mildly, “it is interesting how perceptions may vary. And here I thought you hadmeat a disadvantage. Father would have us all be frivolous creatures without a thought to call our own. I would gladly exchange places with you.” She sighed ruefully. “Sometimes I have the wild desire to disguise myself as a boy and seek employment as a clerk in Father’s offices.”
“Mon Dieu!But I believe you are serious!”
“Speak English, Charles,” intoned a saucy little voice behind them. Vanessa and Charles looked back to see Paulette and Hugh but a step or two behind them.
“Baggage,” Charles said to his sister, who laughed delightedly.
Vanessa quickly turned forward, for she felt another hot blush climb her neck. She hadn’t realized they had been walking quite so close to the other couple and hadn’t considered the possibility of being overheard.
Behind her, Hugh Talverton grinned, then turned his attention once more to Paulette and her nonsensical chatter.
Only a few white clouds scudded across the blue sky, chased by the spring breeze. The sky looked open and empty, and the yellow sun hung like a pendant in the clear ether. The loneliness of the sky was in marked contrast to the color-crowded streets. Vanessa studied the people and the things they passed with new eyes, imagining how Mr. Talverton viewed her familiar surroundings. Was there an exotic quality here, something unique? People from all social levels swarmed the street, and Mr. Talverton was right. The sounds were almost musical, but more than that, there was a sense of living theater.
She had only faint memories of life in a Virginia city before her family moved to New Orleans, but none of her memories held such vivid color or sound. It was more drab red brick and hushed scurrying. She was proud of New Orleans, proud because she loved it. It was like no other city on earth.
As they crossed the Place d’Armes toward the marketplace, Vanessa became aware of knots of people, in all manner of dress, speaking volubly in different languages. Smiling black women milled through the crowds balancing baskets and cans on their heads, calling out the availability of gingerbread, milk, coffee, rice cakes, and flowers. Brilliantly bedecked quadroon women sauntered elegantly by with their parasols. Choctaw, Houma, and Natchez Indians sat squat-legged, wrapped in tattered blankets, trading for trinkets and strong spirits. Old cart wheels, improperly greased or not greased at all, groaned and squeaked as they rolled by while children darted and danced between them, harrying their drivers.
Vanessa smiled as she absorbed it all. This was her home. She glanced back toward Mr. Talverton to see if he was as entranced with the scene as she. Following Paulette’s pointing finger, his eyes focused on a spot in the distance. Vanessa turned back to see what caught their attention. She laughed when she realized what held their interest, and Charles looked down at her, a quizzical expression on his face.
“Paulette has spotted an oyster vendor,” she explained as the other couple came abreast of them.
“Now, Vanessa, my stomach could rumble as inelegantly as yours!” exclaimed Paulette as she hurried Hugh forward.
Paulette’s careless words mortified Vanessa. Without thought, she turned shocked eyes in Mr. Talverton’s direction to see him looking down at her with a faintly amused expression on his face. She blushed bright red, but her gaze stayed helplessly locked with his.
Suddenly her toe caught in a deep rut in the road and she lurched forward. Charles and Hugh grabbed her, halting her headlong plunge.
“I know you like your city, but must you carry it with you everywhere?” Hugh Talverton teased as he stared down at the dust on the hem of her skirt.
A look of dismay crossed Vanessa’s face when she noted the dirt streaks. “Only when you are about,” she said grimly, grabbing her skirts to shake some of the dust off.
“Are you all right?” Charles asked solicitously.
Vanessa smiled at him, touched by his concern. Concern, which was a trait she should look for in a husband, she decided. It was probably a necessary prerequisite to any warmer emotions. It was also certainly lacking in anyone of Mr. Talverton’s aristocratic breed. To him, her stumble had been an opportunity for continued condescension.
"Vite! Vite!”Paulette was saying, pulling at Mr. Talverton’s arm.
Vanessa roused herself, summoning a polite smile to her lips. Determinedly, she clasped Charles’s arm and followed in Paulette’s and Mr. Talverton’s wake.
Beside her, Charles studied her averted face with a curiously intent look. Then he smiled, his smile broadening into a grin, followed finally by laughter.
