Free Creole Fires by Kat Martin Page B

servants are always talkin’ about her, spoutin’ off as to what a cold sort she is and how poor Master Alex is settin’ himself up for a lifetime of grief.”
    “I guess I haven’t been paying much attention lately.”
    “Miss Clarissa’s the master’s intended. She’ll be runnin’ Belle Chêne by the first of the year.”
    “What?”
    “Soon as the hot weather is past, she’s plannin’ an outlandish affair to announce their engagement and the official date of the weddin’. Probably right after the harvest. Party’s gonna cost a fortune, but since she’s payin’, I guess it doesn’t hardly matter.”
    “He—he’s getting married?” she repeated dumbly, still unable to believe it.
    “That’s what I said. And there’s no way Miss Clarissa’s gonna put up with the likes a you under Master Alex’s roof.” The housekeeper eyed her from the top of her copper hair to the small bare feet that peeped from the bottom of her nightshirt.
    Nicole sank down on the bed. “If he sells me again, I’ll just die.” She twisted the folds of her nightshirt and stared at the hands she rested in her lap. “Belle Chêne is the only home I’ve had in years. I can’t bear the thought of leaving—I just can’t.” Salty tears rolled down her cheeks.
    Mrs. Leander sat down beside her. “Here, here, now. Master Alex wouldn’t sell you to somebody cruel.” Nicki only cried harder. Mrs. Leader cradled her head against one plump breast.
    “It’s all right, dearie, don’t fret yourself so.” She patted the top of Nicki’s head. “If you’re that set on stayin’, we just won’t let on for a while. Once the master and Clarissa are married and she’s settled in, she’ll probably let you stay. She’s a practical sort. Master Alex paid handsomely for you. She’ll want to earn back every cent.”
    That wasn’t the most comforting thought, but at least she would be able to stay at Belle Chêne.
    “Then you won’t give me away?”
    “Wouldn’t dream of it. Wouldn’t want to give Miss Clarissa the satisfaction of steppin’ in. I’ll deny I ever said it, but I think the master’s makin’ a bad mistake. He’s a fine man. He deserves someone who’ll love him, not just a woman who’s marrying him to increase her holdin’s and improve her social position.”
    “Alex doesn’t believe in love.”
    “So it’s Alex, is it?”
    “I don’t call him that. I just think of him that way.”
    “For your own sake, dear, you’d best not let your mind wander in that direction.”
    Nicki took a steadying breath and forced a smile she didn’t feel. “You’re right, of course.” Mrs. Leander stood up and so did Nicole. “I won’t forget your kindness.”
    Mrs. Leander frowned. “I hope it’s a kindness I’ll be doin’.”
    Nicki wondered what she meant.
    The following day Patrick returned to Belle Chêne, pulling her thoughts away from Alex’s coming marriage. A little adventure was what she needed to put things in perspective. How long had it been since she’d ridden free, done exactly what she wanted?
    Eyes bright with anticipation, she met Patrick out at the stables just before midnight.
    “I’m riding Napoleon,” she announced without preamble.
    “Are you daft? No one rides him but the duke.”
    “You said we wouldn’t get caught. If we’re going to do this, then I’m riding Napoleon.”
    Patrick scratched his head and looked uncertain. Then he grinned. “Ye’ve the spirit of the Irish, me girl,” he said, exaggerating his accent. “Just don’t say I didn’t warn ye.”
    They saddled the horses, Nicki insisting on a sidesaddle, though Patrick seemed determined she should ride astride. “You’ll break your damned fool neck in that contraption.”
    “I ride better this way,” she said, not bothering to tell him she had ridden this way for years.
    They led the horses into the trees behind the stable before they mounted, Patrick giving her a knee up, then swinging up himself. Napoleon,