Free The Seven Sapphires of Mardi Gras by Vickie Britton

his sight and mind forever”
    “I don’t like it.” I shrugged. “But what else can be done?”
    “I thought you intended to restore the house.”
    A small ray of hope flickered in my heart. “But you said—you said it was beyond repair!”
    The black eyes challenged mine. “Oh, but that was when I wanted you to leave. I had hoped that maybe I could frighten you away. Now that I know you are here to stay, I am prepared to help you.”
    “You would help me restore Evangeline?”
    “Under one condition.” His eyes had grown dark and solemn again. “The house must remain as it is, undisturbed, until the Mardi Gras.”
    “Time is not so important. But, Nicholas, do you think it can be done?”
    “The damage looks worse than it is. Only the right wing is in total ruin. The other part of the house is more promising. Of course, it will take time—-and money. You’ll have to come over and see for yourself what needs to be done.” His hand tightened almost possessively upon mine. “Soon.”
    “I will.”
    I would have my Evangeline, after all. Nicholas would help me! As I watched him walk away toward the carriage, my mind was filled with thoughts and plans. I would have another look at the house. I felt a slight fluttering in my heart, remembering the strong touch of his hand. And yes, I would go soon.
    How could I trust him? The dark voice, almost the voice of conscience, thundered like a dark cloud over my bright horizon. Surely he was mad! His insistence that he remain undisturbed in the charred and blackened ruin of a house until after the Mardi Gras was proof of that! How could I favor his advice over the counsel of my own flesh-and-blood uncle? And yet, for the first time since I had arrived in Iberville, I began to feel hope. Hope for Mother’s beloved Evangeline—hope for myself. It was as if a heavy weight had been lifted from my heart.
    When I returned to the parlor, a tight-lipped servant was collecting the wineglasses. “Christine, show Louise to her room,” called Edward from one of the high, stiff-backed chairs near the mock fireplace. “I’m sure she would like to rest before dinner.” The coolness in his tone made me realize that I had displeased him by escorting Nicholas to the door. My welcome was over.
    As I followed an equally huffy Christine down the corridor I was beginning to wonder if I was going to like this newfound family of mine.
    “Dinner will be at seven,” Edward called to us without looking up as we began to climb the stairs. “We dress formally, of course.”
    Christine was taking the polished stairs two at a time. I had to hurry to keep up with her. The upper rooms of the house formed a huge square with a small courtyard in the middle. They all overlooked the courtyard as well as the outside gardens. From the upstairs hallway there was also a view of the downstairs rooms on the opposite side of the polished stairway. I leaned lightly upon the banister to gaze down into the pleasant little courtyard that offered much privacy.
    “Not too close to the edge, Miss Moreland,” Christine cautioned.
    “Please call me Louise. Miss Moreland sounds like some ancient maiden aunt or prim schoolmarm, and I’m not so much older than you.”
    “How old are you?” she demanded. Curious gray eyes, which reminded me of Edward’s, probed mine.
    “It’s not really polite to ask a lady her age. But I be eighteen next month,” I confided with just a touch of pride.
    “I’m almost as old. I’ll be fifteen soon!” She smiled, her teeth pearly against her unfashionably tanned skin. “I was afraid you’d act stuffy like ‘they” do,” she added, making a face. “Now be sure you are to dinner at seven, Louise,” she minced, “and be sure to dress just right.” I was a little shocked at her disrespectful mocking of Edward, but at the same time I could not help but be amused by her exact imitation of his tone.
    “That was your grandfather’s room,” Christine said as we passed