Free The Grand Masquerade (The Bold Women Series Book 4) by Amanda Hughes Page B

was being so very magnanimous giving this child a fine home in New Orleans, but her tears bothered him.
    The whistle blew for the final time, and he barked, “Oh, Mon Dieu !” Approaching a crew member, he said, “See those dogs down there? Put them on the next flatboat to New Orleans.”
    Sydnee whirled around and stared at Maxime with wide eyes.
    “Yes, they are coming,” he growled. “You spoiled little child.”
    Sydnee put her arm up, and Vivian landed on her sleeve.
    “And keep that filthy bird away from me,” he declared.

 
     
     
     
    Chapter 7
     
    The crew hoisted the landing stage, the whistle blew, and the big red paddle wheel started to churn. A sense of elation swept Sydnee from head to toe. She raised her head to catch the scent of the fresh river air, and a breeze blew through her hair. At last I have direction. At last I have a future. The spirits had been right all along. I did find my way, and Baloo, Atlantis and Vivian did too.
    Shortly after they cast off, Maxime shooed Sydnee down to the lowest deck to be among the slaves and lower class passengers. He remained above to talk with the riverboat Captain, a man he had known for years.
    Sydnee stood at the railing in the morning sun watching the paddles turn round and round and listening to the soothing splash, splash of water. She shaded her eyes to see the flatboat on which Atlantis and Baloo rode. She could just make out the dogs sitting side by side. It appeared as if the crew member found a little boy to watch them, and the child had his arm around Baloo’s neck. Sydnee smiled. The dog was twice the size of the child.
    Vivian was soaring overhead, coasting on the river winds keeping both the flat boat and the paddle wheeler in sight. Sydnee put her arm up, and she swept in for a landing. The crow landed gently on her forearm, and Sydnee stroked her head. “You are a good girl, but you must be on your best behavior. We are going to a beautiful new home, and we must make a good impression.”
    Vivian cocked her head, listening. They stood together for a long time watching the muddy water of the Mississippi and the green shoreline littered with fallen trees. Suddenly a young crew member jumped into a skiff and started rowing to shore. When he reached land, he jumped out and ran to a tree that had a red box nailed to it. Pulling out a piece of paper, he stuffed it in his shirt, jumped back into the skiff and returned to the paddle wheeler before it left him behind.
    “The pilots leave notes for one another,” Sydnee heard one of the passengers say on the deck above.
    “Why is that?” a woman asked.
    “To let each other know about river conditions or hazards ahead.”
    Sydnee smiled. Eager to see more of the paddle wheeler, she tossed Vivian back into the air and walked toward the bow. She edged her way through mounds of firewood, barrels, crates and bundles. Slaves and working class folk were sitting on the lower deck in the shadows of this cargo, playing cards, throwing dice and murmuring quietly to each other. They were not to disturb the fine ladies and gentlemen riding on the decks above.
    Sydnee was glad for the fresh air when she reached the bow. This deck had an apron which thrust out in front of the boat where the landing stage was mounted. Sydnee walked to the end of the apron and turned around to see the other decks. The second deck had a lacy white railing and was lined with state rooms. Sydnee assumed these cabins were unoccupied because she overhead someone say the journey to New Orleans was only a day trip. She wondered what luxuries were behind those fancy white louvered doors. She imagined there to be soft feather beds with sumptuous linens, perfumed pillows and rich carpets.
    The next level on the stern-wheeler was lined with beveled glass windows, and she wondered if this is where first class passengers were getting the cool drinks that they carried in frosty goblets. Sydnee did not dare gawk at these fine folk, but she