He only hoped and prayed that Geneviève would not be present.
♥
The road curved upward through fields of cane and coffee, the sweet scent of crushed stalks clinging to the humid air.Looking through the carriage window, Desi shaded her eyes against the setting sun and nearly gasped as the plantation house came into view.It rose above the fields like a sentinel of power, massive, symmetrical, and beautiful in its own way.
White plastered walls gleamed in the fading light, broken by shuttered windows painted a forest green.A broad veranda wrapped around the front, its balustrades lined with carved posts.Above, a red-tiled roof sloped high, crowned by two dormer windows glinting in the setting sun like watchful eyes.The whole structure perched upon a stone foundation, sitting loftily above the ground as if to separate itself from the sweat and soil that fed it.
Desi studied it, fascinated by the history she witnessed.An elegant house, yet menacing somehow.Like a relic of France dropped into the Caribbean, all polished and primed, but hiding something dark within its walls.
Palms, hibiscus and roses lined the gravel road on either side, their sweet scent filling the carriage.She glanced at Caleb sitting across from her, but his expression was steel, his gaze pensive.What had happened between him and the marquis?Whatever it was, it was not good.
The carriage ground to a halt in front of a set of marble steps, and before she could move, Caleb opened the door, leapt out, and extended his hand for her.Always the gentleman.She took it and moved aside for Alden, Liam, and the doctor to descend.
A glint caught her eye, and she turned to see a marble fountain perched in the middle of a luxurious garden to the left of the house.Beyond, smoke rose from separate kitchens, and farther still, rows of smaller huts squatted against the horizon.Slave quarters, she realized with a chill.The contrast turned her stomach.Beauty and brutality, domination and subjugation braided together in this strange world she’d landed in.
She felt Caleb’s gaze upon her.“You look lovely tonight, Miss Starr.”
Did she?She glanced down at the soft dove-gray silk, finer than any dress Desi had worn.The bodice was stiff with stays, tight across her ribs, but trimmed with faded ivory lace that matched the strip on her square neckline.She brushed her hands down the skirts that fell in folds to the gravel, layered over a pale blue petticoat that peeked through when she walked.
It had been Caleb’s sister Esther’s gown once, or so Ayida had told her.A bit wrinkled and worn, but it still smelled of lavender and gardenia.A few of the ribbons were frayed at the ends, but otherwise, after Ayida pinned Desi’s hair up in a sweeping bun, and she stood before the mirror aboard theSentinel, she was startled at how regal and elegant she appeared, as though she’d been born in this time.
But it was the look in Caleb’s eyes when he first saw her—the same look he was giving her now—that had caught her by surprise.A look of approval, delight even, but more than that…a look given to someone he had known all his life.
“Thank you,” she said.“You don’t look too bad yourself.”Not that the man wasn’t handsome enough, but with a fresh black suit and his hair slicked and tied behind him, he looked quite the gentleman.He’d even shaved, though a hint of stubble remained, and he still had a sword strapped to his side.
Bending over, he plucked a gardenia from a nearby bush and handed it to her.
She drew it to her nose, the sweet fragrance a reminder of home, of the gardenia plants she cultivated on the side ofOcean’s Echo.“My favorite flower.Thank you.”
He seemed pleased as he extended his arm.“Shall we?”
Desi’s stomach fluttered as he escorted her up the marble stairs.Alden and the others trailed behind, the rap-tap of Brandt’s cane lent an ominous rhythm to the night.They halted at the door.Caleb’s jaw grew stiff, his eyes narrowed, and she got the impression he might turn and run into the night.
Too late, a butler opened the door, gesturing them inside.
Finely dressed servants bowed as they entered.Everything glittered and gleamed, from the gilded mirrors, carved mahogany chairs and side tables, to the portraits in gilt frames staring down at them with imperious eyes.Above, light spilled from a candlelit chandelier as the scent of roasted meat and spiced wine filled the air.
And then he appeared.
Louis-Étienne de Montverre descended the staircase with the composure of a lord surveying his kingdom.A dark periwig sat upon his head, its curls dancing about his shoulders.He wore a fine suit with lace cuffs and an embroidered vest glinting with gold thread.A jeweled ring flashed on his hand as he rested it lightly upon the banister.
“Monsieur le Marquis,” the steward intoned, bowing low.
“Monsieur.”Caleb greeted the man.
Desi had no idea what to do.How did a lady address a marquis?There were strict society rules in this time, but she had no clue what they were.So, she dipped her head awkwardly, her pulse racing.
The Marquis’s gaze swept over her, cool and appraising, before he took the final step into the foyer.
“Bienvenue, messieurs… et mademoiselle,” he said smoothly, his French accent curling around the words like smoke.“My table is honored tonight.”He grinned.
Something in that grin set Desi’s skin crawling.She attempted to shake it off, but as they moved down the hall and into the banquet room, the sensation grew worse.
The dining hall reminded her of a scene out ofPride and Prejudice.A long table stretched the length of the room, covered with white linen.Silver platters gleamed beneath roasted game hens, bowls of sugared fruit, and golden loaves of bread.Ruby wine sparkled from crystal goblets.Servants dressed in black suits lined both sides.
Introductions were made with other people in the room, already enjoying drinks and small snacks from a side table—several members of the town council and their wives, the head of the island’s militia, high ranking merchants and tradesmen.The men scanned her with interest, the women with disapproval.She might as well have bought her gown at a thrift shop when compared to the elaborately embroidered and shimmering dresses they wore.Not to mention the jewels hanging from their ears and draped about their necks, and the pearls woven into their hair.Suddenly, she was back in high school, wearing hand-me-downs while cheerleaders sporting expensive brand names whispered insults about her behind raised hands.
A servant led each of them to their seats.Once again, Caleb extended the chair for her, then took his place by her side near the head of the table.Alden, Dr.Brandt, and Liam sat across from them.The other guests filled the remaining seats and began chatting amongst themselves, completely ignoring the strangers.Desi had dined with all types of people before, even recently with ill-mannered sailors, bowls clattering and mugs sloshing.But here, everything was precise, refined, like stepping into another world.
