Free Creole Fires by Kat Martin Page A

impatiently for Patrick O’Flannery’s return and their promised outing, she met Alex out at the stables four nights each week after supper. Though he never mentioned it, the other three nights he caught the steamboat into the city. Nicki didn’t have to ask the reason.
    Lisette.
It galled her, though she tried to tell herself it shouldn’t.
    Alexandre du Villier had provided the first real home she’d known in years. What more could she ask? But each night after they finished with the horses and she returned her room, she knew. She wanted him to look at her as a woman. Wanted the friendship he had given her to grow into something more.
    It was a fantasy, a dream that could never be. A duke would never involve himself with an indentured servant no matter what her family heritage had been.
    Closing the door behind her, Nicki removed her mobcap, unbraided her hair and brushed it out, then removed the child’s-length black-and-white uniform she had been given upon her arrival. Off went herpetticoats, chemise, then the uncomfortable strips that bound her breasts. Thank God, she occupied the room alone. At least her secret remained safe.
    But how much longer did she want it to? She was coming to trust Alexandre du Villier, coming to believe he might help her, maybe even release her from her contract. But where would she go? What would she do?
    She’d been raised on a plantation, groomed to be a planter’s wife. It was the woman’s job to help with the family business, to make a home for her husband and children, and to look after the workers, the hundreds of people it took to make the miniature city run smoothly.
    It was a hard job, but a rewarding one. She would have been good at it. Her mother had been an essential part of Meadowood, and she’d taught Nicole everything she knew.
    Then, thanks to some tariff that had been passed, the bottom had fallen out of the sugar market, her parents had died, and Meadowood was gone. She was eighteen now and worse off than she’d been three years ago, when she’d first indentured herself. At least back then she’d had a goal, a plan to set her life back in order.
    The Ramseys had promised to teach her accounting, a skill she had dabbled in on occasion and seemed to have a knack for. There were few women in the profession, but Nicole thought that with the small amount of money she would have coming at the end of her indenture, if she learned well enough, eventually she would find employment.
    “God in heaven!”
    Nicki whirled at the sound of the voice. Mrs. Leanderstood in the open doorway, staring at Nicole’s bare breasts, making the sign of the cross as if to ward off evil demons. She stepped inside and staunchly closed the door.
    Nicki swallowed hard. “I—I didn’t hear you knock.”
    A hurrumph was her reply. “All right, little missy, just what the devil is going on?”
    Nicki pulled a soft cotton nightgown over her head, but without her bindings, it couldn’t disguise the ample bulge of her breasts. “Please, Mrs. Leander. I was only trying to protect myself.”
    “Protect yourself? By deceiving us all? Pretending to be something you aren’t?”
    “I didn’t set out to. It just sort of happened.” Praying for the housekeeper’s understanding, Nicki went on to explain about Lorna and her narrow escape from the guards at the prison. “Then it was time for the auction and Lorna thought I might be … well … spared ill treatment if I kept on pretending.”
    The older woman crossed herself again. “Lord have mercy. We do have a problem.”
    “Maybe it’s just as well,” Nicki countered. “M’sieur du Villier will have to find out the truth, sooner or later. It might as well be now.”
    “Are you daft?” The housekeeper’s snowy brows shot up. “Miss Clarissa would never stand for you being here.”
    “Who’s she?”
Not another of his mistresses!
    Mrs. Leander looked surprised. “Surely you’re not so old you’re hard a hearin’? Seems to me the