Page 65 of Frankly, My Dear

“Well, that would be nice,” James replied, beginning to think that Etienne’s misbehavior of late had perhaps been exaggerated by Blossom. “And, by the way, you are looking very handsome.”

Etienne cast Selene a knowing look. “Handsome, yes. Beautiful, no,” he told her haughtily. Then he looked back at him, “But my name is E.T. now, Papa. Not Etienne. It’s my nickname.”

“Huh?”

“E.T. is a creature from another world, Papa.”

James shot Selene a condemning look. Had she been speaking of the future and time-travel with his son, against his orders?

“It’s just a story, Papa. Like a fairy tale. And E.T. was this person…who was not really a person…he was a…?” Etienne looked up at Selene questioningly.

“An alien,” Selene said on a soft moan, probably realizing that he would not be happy with her. “E.T. was an alien from another world.”

He looked back at Etienne, who was gazing up at him with such enthusiasm that he found it difficult to dash his dreams. “Well, then, I guess your new name will have to be E.T. for now.”

His son flashed a dazzling smile of adoration at him, and he reached out his arms for him, swinging him high in the air, then into his embrace. That small move on his part gave the dog an opportunity to squeeze past him into the bathing room, where he made a flying leap for the bathtub. Water flew in a million directions, drenching Etienne, Selene, James, and everything else in the room.

Selene stared at him for a moment, stunned, while dirty water ran in rivulets down her face, dripping from her chin. Then she started to laugh, gasping out, “Oh, Lord, I think I’m the alien here. And I’ve landed in another world, all right.”

James laughed, too, pulling her against his side in a three-way embrace with Etienne. Yes, she was an “alien,” that was for sure, and he didn’t know how he was ever going to let her return to her “world.”

Well, that wouldn’t be his concern much longer. Selene would be leaving Bayou Noir within the week.

Selene had troubled his spirits the entire day. In the end, he’d been forced to take drastic measures. If a tooth aches, you tear it out. If the temptation grows, you remove its source.

Just before he’d left the fields, he’d sent a note to a neighboring planter. The plan for banishing Selene was already in motion.

His motives were pure. His conscience was not.

How would he tell the wench she could no longer stay at Bayou Noir?

For one insane moment, as he continued to embrace her and his son, he almost wished he could be her blasted “Rhett.”

Chapter Eleven

“And the aliens have big heads with bi-i-i-g eyes and little bodies,” Etienne related with enthusiastic gestures at the dinner table for Fergus and Reba’s benefit. Once, he almost knocked over the huge epergne in the center of the table, a tiered centerpiece with ten separate crystal vases dripping fresh gardenias. James hated the monstrosity. Giselle had loved it.

Turning back to Etienne, he smiled with bemusement while his son repeated Selene’s story about a creature who’d come to earth from another world. He’d already told him the tale three times, embellished a bit more in each retelling.

Fergus and Reba listened politely, but they really had eyes only for each other. Sacrebleu! They behaved like newlyweds, unable to stop touching each other.

Fergus kept gaping like a lovesick cow at his wife’s remarkable change in appearance…a “makeover,” Selene had called it. Merde, he’d like to show her a makeover.

Reba’s hair, which had always lain rather limply down her back, now fluffed out about her face like silky strands of pale wheat. Her surprisingly lovely eyes looked bigger and her lips appeared fuller. She was beautiful. Amazing!

He slanted a quick, suspicious look at Selene, who probably had had something to do with this magical transformation. She avoided his eyes, as well she should. He’d warned her about any more magic tricks. He bit his bottom lip to stifle an admonition, though. After all, he would have to put up with her antics only a short time longer, now that his plans were set in motion.

“And did you know, Papa, that the earth is a planet?”

“Huh?” James’s attention was called back to his son. “A plant? I don’t think so, son.”

“Not a plant, Papa.” Etienne slapped his knee with a childish squeal of laughter. “A plan-et. And there are lots of planets in the sky. And nobody knows for sure if there are people on these other planets, like E.T., but I think there are. Don’t you, Papa? Don’t you?”

James listened indulgently to his son’s excited chatter, but his eyes kept coming back to Selene, who sat quietly contemplating the bowl of soup Hyacinth had set before her. Selene probably feared his wrath over her stories of another world. Etienne, with his running tongue, would have rumors flying up and down the bayou within days.

“Don’t you care for your soup, Selene?” he asked. “Blossom prides herself on her crayfish gumbo.”

“What? Oh, no, the soup is delicious.” She took several more sips from her spoon. Dainty sips through slightly parted lips. And James remembered how those lips had felt against his, parting for his, under his, above his. A yearning—so intense he could barely contain it—overcame him. He wanted more than anything to take her hand and lead her up the stairs.