Free Bayou Baby by Renee Miller Page A

slab of bread. She tucked that under the mattress along with the lace trimmed napkin and fork. She couldn’t rely on the spirit for everything. Mama Gator had warned her that the spirits did what they wanted and answered prayers in strange ways.
    A pretty girl, not much older than Rowan, entered the room to collect her dinner tray an hour later. She was a tiny thing, with large brown eyes, and curly blond hair. Her lip trembled a bit so Rowan smiled.
    “Do you work here?” she asked the girl.
    The girl looked at the door and then back to Rowan. When she spoke, it was in a whisper as though she were afraid of someone outside listening. “With the men? No. Not anymore. My parents worked for Monsieur Dumas. I think they still do or they are dead. When my mother tried to get me work at the plantation as well, he told her he had better work for me. He promised them I’d get to travel and I’d have a fine education. We thought I’d be a nanny for some grand family.” She made a choking sound and looked away. “He brought me here, to lie with the men but I couldn’t do it and they got tired of me eventually. I’m a servant now.”
    “So you don’t have to… do things with the men?”
    “Now and then. If a man comes in and asks for me. She forces me to go up here with him.” The girl shuddered and glanced at the door once more. “But most of them think I’m a child and have no interest.”
    “How old are you?”
    “I’m eighteen. Older than a lot of the other girls. They’ve been talking about you.”
    Rowan didn’t care about the other girls. She felt sorry for this one, because it was horrible for anyone to endure so much, and although she was older than Rowan, she was still a baby in many ways. However, the girl was alone in the world too, and it wouldn’t hurt to have a friend. “Listen, I don’t plan to be here long. If I go, would you like to come with me?”
    The sound of footsteps on the stairs had the girl rushing to the door. She turned and gave Rowan a sad smile. “I wish that were possible. You will never get out of here. Many have died trying. More have wished they had after they returned.”
    She was gone before Rowan could reply. Why wouldn’t the authorities step in? Prostitution was legal, but not for children. Perhaps Monsieur Dumas had enough money to keep the law away. Rowan wasn’t naïve enough to believe the local officials weren’t immune to fine things. No one was.
    But the girl was wrong. Rowan would leave this place, and she’d only return to destroy Rosaline. She’d take the girl with her, even if it meant dragging her kicking and screaming from the house. Rowan smiled at the thought.
    The door opened, and her smile faded as Henri walked into the room. She stiffened as he closed it and turned. He wore a suit of dark blue fabric, his hair smoothed away from his boyish face. He smiled, but his eyes darted around as though he were unable to look at her.
    “Well, this place certainly has an abundance of trash,” she said.
    “Now, ma cherie , don’t be that way. We know each other too well for you to look at me like that.”
    “I would have thought you had enough of me the other night.”
    He sat on the edge of the bed.
    Rowan curled into a ball at the opposite end.
    “I won’t hurt you, Rowan. That was never my intention.”
    “You can’t hurt me anymore, Henri. You haven’t the imagination to do worse than Rosaline and Lucien have already done.”
    He touched the welts on her wrist.
    She pulled away from him.
    “What did they do? Tie you up? I’ve heard of worse.”
    “They did worse than that, and I won’t discuss it with you. Do what it is you came to do and get out.”
    Henri stared at her for a long time before touching the bruise that covered her cheek. His fingers were gentle. Hysteria fluttered inside as Rowan realized that she wanted to turn her face into him and cry.
    Henri lowered his hand and sighed. “I wish you would realize that I am your friend. The