His smile broadened. “So, you think, I am intelligent.”
“Looks are deceiving,” she quipped. His speech was that of an educated man. However, education did not equal intelligence.
He mocked a sigh. “I am devastated that you think me capable of deception.”
“When you say you know the owner, you lie. So of course, you are capable of deception.” Grace punctuated her hard statement by gesturing with her rifle, but she didn’t bring it back up to her shoulder.
“Mais non. I’ve known Sarah Alden for decades.”
“Sarah Alden was my aunt. As my guardian and friend, she managedSweet Dreamsuntil she died two years ago.” Grace relaxed her grip on the rifle. Perhaps he wasn’t as much of a threat as she’d believed.
The smile and the gleam fled. Grief crept into the sapphire eyes, and—
Is that a tear?
“I’m sorry to hear it. She was a good friend.” His voice tightened, as if his emotion was genuine.
“You knew her?” She reared back in disbelief.
“For most of her life, darlin’.”
She frowned. “I know you mean nothing by it, but calling me darling is very inappropriate. Please stop.”
“As you wish.” Flynn tugged on his forelock and bowed. “What should I call you?”
“Nothing!” Grace straightened, setting her aim once more. This man, this bringer of disruption had to be banished. “If you won’t answer my questions, we have nothing to say to each other. Now leave. If I find you here again, I’ll send for the sheriff.” She waited. She would not allow him to frighten, intimidate, or cajole her.
Frogs and cicadas consumed the silence between them. “You’ve no one to send, Grace Thibodaux. However, I’ll honor your wishes, until I’m next able to visit.Bonswa, chère.”
He’d called her by name. Grace frowned. “How did you…?” She spoke to the air. Clouds had moved in, covering the three-quarter moon, stealing the light.Has he really left?
She tried to penetrate the gloom. Beyond the glow of the lantern, the yard and the bayou were pitch black. Just as before, she could almost believe she’d imagined the man. He’d known Sarah’s name and her own.How?
Thunder rumbled in the distance. The breeze finally rose. Grace loved thunderstorms, reveled in them. Years had passed since she’d last indulged her senses. She might have done so with tonight’s storm. However, her unwelcome visitor had stolen what little peace she’d gained from her visits to the dock.
The leaves rustled in the wind like a muted chorus ofgo now!
She smiled at her imagination. She’d had the same kinds of thoughts about disembodied voices as a child. Perhaps her older memories would return, with more time atSweet Dreams. Grace paced slowly back to the house, retrieving the lantern on her way.
I should have shot him and tossed his corpse to the gators. Why didn’t I?
What was wrong with her that she let his cheeky replies interest her?
She tried to empty her mind, to regain some sense of calm. She failed. Grace couldn’t rid herself of the mental image of Lucien Flynn. He’d actually smiled when he’d seen the rifle.
Thinking about that smile was better than moping about the loss of her life in Boston and her tendency to cower first before fighting back. No one in Boston had truly been her friend, nor was anyone here.
Aunt Sarah had always said that dwelling on the past only kept a person from attaining their best future.I want the best future I can get, but I’m not certain what that looks like. Regardless, she’d do everything necessary to get what she wanted. No attractive, smooth-talking stranger would stand in her way.
Grace settled into her nightly routine. Soon, the melody of Early One Morning floated from the keepsake box, and she opened the ship’s log. The pages filled with ‘ship’s bells, longitudes, latitudes, daily discipline for minor infractions, and watch reports of ‘no change’ were fatiguing. Something had to happen on the ship eventually. She skipped about thirty pages, finding herself in the middle of the day’s events from 12 February 1814.
“Made Barataria shortly after mid-day. Left ship to make peace with LaFitte…”
***
Moments after Grace’s light went out, Luc made his usual rounds, checking to ensureSweet Dreamsremained undisturbed. He’d caught sight of two men walking toward the entry gate. It’d happened on other nights during the dark hours. Folk sometimes mistook the turn into the property then retraced their steps back to the road. A quick glance at the sky showed only a small change in the gibbous moon’s position.
He was returning to theOnly Loveand his nightly toast to the moon, when he caught the tinkling sound of mechanical notes. The tune, belonged to a song he’d not heard in nearly a century. He’d played it too frequently in his mind. However, tonight the sound was too real.
