Page 145 of Frankly, My Dear

James leaned down and kissed it shut. “I did.”

“You must be the talk of the city.”

“For a certainty,” he said dryly.

Next he dropped a heavy leather bag in her lap. Selene untied the leather thong opening and saw an enormous pile of paper money and gold coins. She raised questioning eyes to James. “Where did you get this?”

“It’s our grub stake.”

“Huh?”

James pulled a low chair close to hers and sat down in front of her, knee to knee. Taking her hands in his, he held her eyes earnestly. “I sold the plantation.”

Selene inhaled sharply.

“To Fergus and Reba. Oh, Fergus didn’t have enough money right now to buy it outright. But I figured he and Reba could pay us back over the years when they could. Is that all right?”

She nodded dumbly, still not understanding. “Then where did you get all this money?”

“My father,” he said with a grimace. “I couldn’t let my mother’s death be for nothing. I took the will and went to him, demanding he buy out my half of my inheritance.”

“And he did?” she asked, truly astonished.

“He did, but it took a while to convince him.” James’s beautiful eyes clouded over, and Selene knew how painful it must have been to go to his father on humble knee. “Truly, you would have been proud of me. I am a shrewd negotiator.”

A fierce, sweet joy blossomed in her heart as Selene began to realize the implications of James’s news. Was he finally free of all his burdens, both the past and his current financial woes?

“This really isn’t much, Selene. Just enough for us to start over.”

“Start over?” she questioned, beginning to feel like a parrot.

James slanted her a seductive, teasing glance. “How do you think I’ll look as a prospector?”

Suddenly Selene understood. “We’re going to California!” She remembered now how she’d told James of the opportunities to be had in California during the coming gold rush.

James nodded. “Rufus and Iris want to come with us, and some of the free blacks. What do you think, Selene?”

“Well, fiddle-dee-dee, James, why didn’t you tell me all this to begin with?” Selene said with a tinkling laugh and threw herself into his arms, landing in his lap. She kissed his face and neck, over and over.

Etienne walked up to them tentatively, as if unsure of his welcome in this intimate scene. James pulled him onto his other knee and hugged them both.

“Are you sure this is what you want, James?” Selene asked finally. “To leave your land, and everything that’s familiar to you?”

Gruffly James answered, “Hell, yes.”

Then he stood them both on their feet. “Why is everyone dawdling around here? We have a wedding to conduct. I brought the priest. Blossom promised to make beignets and a punchbowl of syllabubs for the wedding dinner. What are we waiting for?”

Selene in her “Scarlett” wedding gown looked better than she ever had as a cover model. Etienne put a frog in the priest’s cassock, but once the cleric survived that shock, the ceremony went on beautifully. Dreadful was a real gentleman with a red ribbon tied in a huge bow around his neck, and he only ate ten of Selene’s beignets. Blossom cried profusely, and Iris wore a new, slim gown which she declared showed off her much trimmer tush.

Later that evening, lying next to James in his wide bed, they spoke softly of the day’s events. Cuddled close to James now, whispering soft endearments, Selene trailed a hand teasingly down his naked chest, over the flat male nipples and crisp hairs, then lower.

“Did I tell you I’ve thought of some new embroidery strokes?”

“I didn’t know Southern gentlemen knew how to embroider.”

“Honey, there’s a lot I could have taught that Rhett. She peeked up at him with wide Southern-belle eyes.

“Oh? And what might those embroidery strokes be?” he asked with a chuckle.