hand to her lips. “I must see her.”
“Don’t worry,” he consoled her. “I’ll take you out there if you wish.”
She nodded, and soon they were in Tony’s carriage heading for the Mornay cottage. When Laurel entered the house and saw Gincie, she realized that the woman wouldn’t be able to travel to San Antonio with her. Though Gincie was talkative, she coughed a deep aching sort of cough that sounded painful.
“Don’t worry over me, Miss Laurel,” Gincie told her when they were alone. Gincie sat on a cot with a pillow propped behind her back. “Doctor Mornay and his wife take real good care of me. I ain’t goin’ too far with the way I been feelin’ lately. But you got to get to San Antonio and see your uncle before the Lord takes him. You have to go.”
Laurel sighed, realizing again that Gincie was right. She had to go. “I’ll visit Uncle Arthur for a while, then on my way home, I’ll come get you, and we’ll both return to New Orleans.”
Gincie’s dark eyes settled on Laurel’s face. “You don’t have to do that, my baby girl. I know how you been lookin’ forward to this visit. Just take your time. If I ain’t here when you start for home, either I went on ahead to New Orleans or the good Lord took me. Either way, you don’t worry over old Gincie.”
Tears misted Laurel’s eyes, and she hugged Gincie. “What am I going to do with you? But I know one thing, you better not go off to heaven now or in the near future. I need you to look after my children one day.”
This comment brought a grin to Gincie’s lips. “You figurin’ on marryin’ and havin’ babies soon, Miss Laurel? You considerin’ marryin’ that handsome Mr. Duvalier?”
“No, well, hush now, Gincie. It was just a comment. Don’t start making anything over it.” Her face grew warm, and she fiddled with the string on her reticule.
After she had hugged Gincie again and paid Doctor Mornay for her care, Tony rode with her to the hotel. During the ride back she could barely look at him. Each time she did, she remembered Gincie’s question about marrying Tony Duvalier. It was absurd even to consider such a thing. She barely knew the man, had kissed him only once, but that one kiss she wouldn’t soon forget.
Soon the carriage halted at the hotel, and when he helped her out, he said again, “Seven o’clock,” before she had the time to protest.
CHAPTER FIVE
Before Laurel went to her room, she spoke to the hotel manager and inquired about the availability of another coach.
“There won’t be one until the day after tomorrow. Because of Mardi Gras and the riffraff who plague the roads, no coaches will leave until then. We’ve had some trouble with the criminal element in the prairie area, and after some people celebrate for too long…” His voice drifted off. “Let’s just say it’s better to be safe than sorry.”
“I understand,” she said, though she felt impatient to be on her way to San Antonio. It seemed events had conspired against her and that she was to remain in the bustling town of Washington along Bayou Cortableau longer than she had planned. She decided that she might as well enjoy herself and avail herself of Tony’s company.
She had been in her room for half an hour when a knock sounded on the door. On opening it, she saw a plump woman with graying hair and a broad smile. Over her arm was what appeared to be a skirt and a blouse. Without saying a word, she pushed past Laurel and entered the room.
“Who are you?” Laurel asked indignantly. “I didn’t invite you in here. If you don’t leave, I’ll call the manager.”
The woman turned to her, the smile still on her face. “You are Mademoiselle Delaney? Oui?”
Laurel nodded.
“I am in the right place. Monsieur Duvalier sent me to dress you for the masquerade dance tonight.”
Laurel looked at her uncomprehendingly. “Dance?”
“You know,” the woman said and hummed a few notes of music, moving her surprisingly tiny
“Don’t worry,” he consoled her. “I’ll take you out there if you wish.”
She nodded, and soon they were in Tony’s carriage heading for the Mornay cottage. When Laurel entered the house and saw Gincie, she realized that the woman wouldn’t be able to travel to San Antonio with her. Though Gincie was talkative, she coughed a deep aching sort of cough that sounded painful.
“Don’t worry over me, Miss Laurel,” Gincie told her when they were alone. Gincie sat on a cot with a pillow propped behind her back. “Doctor Mornay and his wife take real good care of me. I ain’t goin’ too far with the way I been feelin’ lately. But you got to get to San Antonio and see your uncle before the Lord takes him. You have to go.”
Laurel sighed, realizing again that Gincie was right. She had to go. “I’ll visit Uncle Arthur for a while, then on my way home, I’ll come get you, and we’ll both return to New Orleans.”
Gincie’s dark eyes settled on Laurel’s face. “You don’t have to do that, my baby girl. I know how you been lookin’ forward to this visit. Just take your time. If I ain’t here when you start for home, either I went on ahead to New Orleans or the good Lord took me. Either way, you don’t worry over old Gincie.”
Tears misted Laurel’s eyes, and she hugged Gincie. “What am I going to do with you? But I know one thing, you better not go off to heaven now or in the near future. I need you to look after my children one day.”
This comment brought a grin to Gincie’s lips. “You figurin’ on marryin’ and havin’ babies soon, Miss Laurel? You considerin’ marryin’ that handsome Mr. Duvalier?”
“No, well, hush now, Gincie. It was just a comment. Don’t start making anything over it.” Her face grew warm, and she fiddled with the string on her reticule.
After she had hugged Gincie again and paid Doctor Mornay for her care, Tony rode with her to the hotel. During the ride back she could barely look at him. Each time she did, she remembered Gincie’s question about marrying Tony Duvalier. It was absurd even to consider such a thing. She barely knew the man, had kissed him only once, but that one kiss she wouldn’t soon forget.
Soon the carriage halted at the hotel, and when he helped her out, he said again, “Seven o’clock,” before she had the time to protest.
CHAPTER FIVE
Before Laurel went to her room, she spoke to the hotel manager and inquired about the availability of another coach.
“There won’t be one until the day after tomorrow. Because of Mardi Gras and the riffraff who plague the roads, no coaches will leave until then. We’ve had some trouble with the criminal element in the prairie area, and after some people celebrate for too long…” His voice drifted off. “Let’s just say it’s better to be safe than sorry.”
“I understand,” she said, though she felt impatient to be on her way to San Antonio. It seemed events had conspired against her and that she was to remain in the bustling town of Washington along Bayou Cortableau longer than she had planned. She decided that she might as well enjoy herself and avail herself of Tony’s company.
She had been in her room for half an hour when a knock sounded on the door. On opening it, she saw a plump woman with graying hair and a broad smile. Over her arm was what appeared to be a skirt and a blouse. Without saying a word, she pushed past Laurel and entered the room.
“Who are you?” Laurel asked indignantly. “I didn’t invite you in here. If you don’t leave, I’ll call the manager.”
The woman turned to her, the smile still on her face. “You are Mademoiselle Delaney? Oui?”
Laurel nodded.
“I am in the right place. Monsieur Duvalier sent me to dress you for the masquerade dance tonight.”
Laurel looked at her uncomprehendingly. “Dance?”
“You know,” the woman said and hummed a few notes of music, moving her surprisingly tiny
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