Betrayed, page 10
part #2 of The Cuvier Widows Series
Max raised his brows, his expression somewhat confused. “Don't you think we should be seen together before the baby is born? I know we put a wedding announcement in the paper, but if people don't see us as a couple, they won't believe the child is mine,” he said, gazing at her, his green eyes warm with understanding. “We could wait until this afternoon, late, when it's cooler, and that way we could enjoy the music tonight.”
The look he gave her made Nicole feel tingly inside, like thousands of nerve endings awakening to his gaze. She frowned, not certain she liked that feeling, not certain she wanted to feel anything as far as Max was concerned. Yet, he always managed to stimulate her, awaken a part of her that these last few months had seemed dead.
Contemplating his words, she knew he was right. How could she argue if his suggestion protected the baby? The afternoon heat would be dissipating and her last outing in a crowd had been Jean's funeral. Since then she'd avoided any social gatherings, and now even trips into town. Sooner or later, she would have to overcome her apprehension and become involved in community life once again, if for no other reason than the sake of the child.
“All right, I'll go for the baby,” she said.
He frowned. “You need to go for yourself. It's important they think that the child you're expecting is mine, but you need to be accepted once again.”
“I hardly think that one outing is going to repair the damage done to my reputation,” she said. “In fact, I doubt that after Jean's death I will ever truly be received. I just don't want Jean's accursed bad behavior to taint our child. And that's where you're going to help me.”
He raised his brows. “I can try to help you, but whether or not you're received again is mainly up to you.”
“How?” she asked, feeling frustrated by his words, remembering her outing to the mercantile where she'd met Max. “By creating a scene every time one of the old society matrons scorns me on the street? Or should I get into a fistfight with the women who stand around tittering about me?”
All the anger that Nicole had carefully locked away returned in a flash of fury at the memory of how the townspeople treated her that day in town.
For a moment he said nothing. “No. We're going to become one of the most respectable young couples in town. We'll be invited to parties and everyone will be looking forward to the birth of our child. But you've got to smile and pretend that what you experienced previously never happened.”
Nicole couldn't believe he would even suggest such a thing. How could she ever forget leaving the mercantile that day, her blood pounding with humiliation and shame? “You think that people are just going to forget all about my marriage to Jean and the fact that I suddenly married you, a stranger, out of the blue? Or the fact that my shape looks suspiciously like I'm expecting a child? Whose child is it? Yours or Jean's?” She paused. “I think you presume just a little too much, sir.”
“No. People will talk regardless, but we're going to hold our heads high and smile and make them look petty when they don't want anything to do with us. Then we're going to be such an intriguing couple that soon everyone will want us at their parties,” he said.
Nicole didn't know whether or not to laugh or be angry with him for such a ridiculous idea. “How much experience does a drifter like you have with genteel society?”
A shadow passed across his face and for a moment his eyes flashed with anger, but then he smiled. “It doesn't matter who you associate with; these are simple techniques that work on everyone.”
She gazed at him, feeling suspicious. How could a man with a mind like Max's be a person who just wandered from place to place? And yet he didn't appear to be a shiftless, lazy man. Quite the contrary, really. He seemed to be comfortable being in control, as if he were used to running a plantation every day. He appeared very much at ease with people, a natural leader.
“So are we going this evening?” he asked, bringing the conversation back to his question.
“Yes, I'll go. But only if you promise me we'll be back at the house before it gets too late,” she said, watching him stand to leave the table.
“Seems reasonable. Then we'll leave here about four o'clock. Wear your dancing shoes, as I expect to have at least one dance tonight, if not more,” he said as he walked away.
***
The entire trip into town, Nicole feared she would make a fool of herself by throwing up once they reached the festival. But Max drove slowly and kept an eye on her. Consuelo sent along ajar of cool water and several sprigs of mint in case she felt ill.
When the buggy pulled into town a cooling breeze blew off the river, soothing the festival attendees. A boucherie was well underway with the pig roasting over a spit. Under an oak tree a group of men sat playing La Bourre, while off in the distance on a small stage, a band played, their instruments including a fiddle, an accordion, a scrub board and spoons.
People danced to the sounds of the band, while some women hurried around setting up tables of precooked food and chasing children away from the desserts.
At the sight of Anna DeChoskey, Nicole felt a moment of panic and wanted to tell Max to take her home, but knew that would be cowardly. The woman still wore the same sour expression she'd last seen in the mercantile that day the women had been all a twitter over Jean's scandal.
Nicole glanced over at Max, and he stared at her, waiting for her reaction. After several moments when she didn't say anything, he raised his brows.
“Are you ready?” he asked.
How could she disappoint him, when he'd been so patient and kind? He deserved to have some fun.
“Of course,” she said, not about to admit to feeling faint at the sight of walking among the people who had scorned and ridiculed her.
Max climbed down from the buggy and came around to her side and lifted her off the seat “Then let's go make a good impression, Mrs. Viel.”
He lifted the basket of food from the buggy that Consuelo had cooked for them and then took Nicole by the arm. They made their way through the crowds to where the women were busy setting out the food. Nicole clung to his arm, her hands shaking. She glanced at Max and he smiled reassuringly. When his lips turned up, her heart warmed at his smile.
Mrs. DeChoskey watched them approach and she raised a brow at Nicole, who wanted to somehow lower the woman's snob ratio just a tad.
“Hello, Mrs. Dechoskey, my husband and I brought some fresh cooked greens and a bread pudding to contribute,” Nicole said, trying to cover her shaking hands and be friendly, though the memory of the woman's mistreatment remained fresh in Nicole's mind.
The woman took her basket, turning up her snobbish nose at the food offering, and gave Nicole a condescending smile. “Your husband?”
“Oh, yes, did you not see the announcement in the paper over a month ago? This is my husband, Maxim Viel.”
Mrs. DeChoskey held out her hand, her face a mask of surprise as she gripped Max's hand. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Viel.”
“Thank you.”
“What part of the country are you from?” she asked, her brows drawn together in a questioning frown.
“New Orleans, ma'am.”
An older woman walked up and stared at him. “Did you say your name was Viel?” she asked.
“Yes, ma'am, Maxim Viel.”
The grandmotherly woman studied him, nodding her head. “I went to school with a girl who married a boy whose last name was Viel. I wonder if you're related?”
Max shifted his eyes to Nicole. “Doubtful, ma'am. There's not many of my family left,” he said without explaining. He took Nicole by the elbow. “If you ladies don't mind, we're going to walk around a bit, and my wife can introduce me to all the good folks of Plaquemine.”
They walked a few steps farther where Max stopped and Nicole introduced him to several of the men of the community. When they turned away, she heard one of the men say, “Hey, isn't she the woman who married that fellow who tied the knot with all those women?”
She tensed and couldn't hear the man's response.
“Smile, Nicole. Don't let them upset you,” Max reminded. “Act as if you are a queen paying her subjects a visit.”
“If I'm the queen, off with their heads!”
Max laughed. “You do have a sense of humor.”
Nicole turned and glanced at him, noticing how his emerald eyes seemed to sparkle and glow in the fading light. How could just a look leave you feeling warm? “If I'm the queen what does that make you?”
“Well, I'm certainly not going to settle for anything less than your king,” he said, tucking her hand inside his arm as they strolled about the festival watching the people.
“Do you think this stuff up all by yourself?”
He smiled and patted her hand. “Of course.”
“I think I've married a crazy man,” she said, pulling her shoulders back as they walked to the next group of people.
Max laughed and leaned closer to her ear. “Only when I'm with you.”
His breath tickled the inside of her ear, sending a shiver down her spine, his words warming her. She turned and gazed at him, her breathing quickening at the heat she saw reflected in his gaze. How could she want something she knew was bad for her?
“Save your lines for other ladies, not me,” she said, trying to remember that this marriage was in name only. She turned away, the look in his eyes leaving her tense and breathless in a way that she'd long forgotten.
“I think we need to find a table to sit at. They're beginning to serve the food,” she said nervously, suddenly wanting to be with other people, anywhere but alone with Max.
“We've got time,” he said, nodding hello to a man as they walked through the crowds. “We're going to make sure that as many people as possible see us and then we'll go sit down.”
“Have you ever done this before?” she asked suddenly, looking at him with new interest. “You know, you've never told me why you drift from town to town. Did something happen that made you not want to stay in one place?”
He smiled at her, his green eyes twinkling in the dying sunlight. “Nothing traumatic. But my grandfather always believed in belonging to a community. He's the one who taught me the value of being connected with people.”
“So why haven't you settled down somewhere?” she asked, enjoying their stroll, enjoying being with this man who was her temporary husband. “Seems you would want to stay in one place.”
“Is that an invitation?”
She laughed. “No.”
“A guy can always hope.” He shrugged. “I'm still looking for the right parish.”
She thought of his response and something seemed vague and unbelievable. Why did she get the feeling that there was more to Max Viel than what he told her?
“Max, I hope you find the place you're looking for and that you'll be very happy,” she said.
“Thank you. I will someday soon,” he replied as he took her arm. “Come on, let's go get in line now. I think that we've walked through the crowds enough saying hello. Let's get something to eat and join someone at their table.”
“Good, I'm famished,” she said.
They heaped their plates high with food, including the boucherie and then joined a family at one of the tables.
The family happily made room for them and joined them in peeling the succulent crawfish. The couples exchanged names and enjoyed the meal prepared by the women of the community.
After dinner, the band began to play a Cajun tune and couples got up to dance. Though Nicole didn't want to overtire herself, she couldn't quite keep her toe from tapping to the music.
“Mrs. Viel, I think it's time we showed these couples how newlyweds two-step.”
She laughed. “All right, Mr. Viel, but I'll ask you not to spin me too much.”
They walked to the dance floor and as they two- stepped their way across the floor, Nicole couldn't remember a time when she'd had such fun, when she'd felt like she belonged. The people around her seemed accepting and she couldn't help but think that maybe Max was right about joining in. But always before she'd felt like people were whispering about her, wondering about her father, talking about Jean.
During their third dance, Max looked at Nicole, his eyes warm and unsettling. “Are you having a good time?”
She couldn't keep her smile from spreading across her face. “Yes, I am. I was afraid to come tonight, but I'm happy you talked me into attending.”
He smiled and pulled her in closer to him. “I'm glad.”
She could feel his solid chest against her and a sense of belonging overcame her that left her feeling unsettled. It felt good to be held in his arms.
As they walked back to their table beneath a large oak tree, the first cool breeze of the night whispered against her skin. “It feels so nice to be out here, dancing under the stars.”
He halted and looked up at the stars; the full moon shone down brightly on them. “I've always heard of the term ‘courting moon,' but I never believed in it until tonight.”
The music played in the distance and the sound of people could be heard, but otherwise they were alone. She glanced at him in the darkness and her throat suddenly went dry. Even in the shadowy light, she could see the warmth reflected in his eyes, touching a place deep within her. That look awakened feelings she'd been trying to deny since the day he'd kissed her at their wedding. She wet her lips in anticipation of his kiss, a reckless urgency spiraling within her. She needed to feel his lips against hers, wanted to taste him once again, though she knew this could only mean disaster. But she'd longed for his kiss since that day in the justice of the peace's office.
He leaned toward her, his lips coming closer and closer to hers. “I enjoy dancing with you under the stars,” he said, his voice whisper-soft, his mouth hovering right above her own until she thought she would beg him to kiss her. Her hands ached to reach up and pull his mouth down to her lips, but she resisted, fighting the primitive hunger surging through her, unlike anything she'd ever felt before.
Shadows danced around them like a ghostly parade, but Nicole didn't notice as she stood frozen in his arms, his scent enveloping her. Finally, she moved, just a tiny movement of her head, and he closed the distance between them.
His mouth covered her own, plundering hers with a definite insistence that left her knees weak. Liquid heat seared her mouth, stunning her with the pleasure that engulfed her. Potent and demanding, his tongue greedily sought the recesses of her mouth and she gladly opened up to him. Her hands slipped up to wrap around his neck and she clung to him for support, her limbs weak.
They were in a public place, kissing like lovers. The realization shocked her. What was she doing? This could only lead to trouble.
She broke the embrace, pushing out of his arms, her breath sounding harsh to her ears as he released her. For a moment they simply stared at one another, as the disbelief of what she'd just done frightened her. Her heart pounded loudly in her chest and she resisted the urge to melt once again in his arms. She'd kissed him like no man ever before, including Jean.
She needed a few moments to collect her thoughts and let her body cool before she faced Max again. She needed to get away.
“Excuse me, but I think I need to find the privy,” she said, feeling awkward and needing a chance to recover and gather her wits about her. She'd enjoyed the feel of his lips on hers. She'd liked the way his mouth teased and tempted her, making her want more. The warmth of his kiss infused her body, making her feel alive and leaving her more aware of him as a man than ever. Max Viel suddenly looked quite dangerous.
And she was married to him.
She whirled away, escaping to a tented area set on the edge of the festival site. Quickly she went into the tent designated for women and took care of her personal business. The night, the stars, and dancing somehow had enticed the two of them and she couldn't let herself ever be seduced into caring about a man again. There could be no more sampling Max's lips.
Though Max looked like sin and tasted of the devil, she could never let herself indulge. She'd only married him for the baby, and once the child was born, Max would be gone. And her heart had suffered enough aches for one lifetime.
As she stepped to the door of the tent, she overheard Anna DeChoskey gossiping with a group of women.
“Can you believe that hussy showed up here with a new husband?” she said, her voice loud in the night air.
Nicole sighed, not believing that this same woman would ridicule her a second time.
“Looks like she might have something cooking in the oven,” a voice she didn't recognize said.
Nicole ran her hand over her abdomen, a feeling of protectiveness coming over her.
The women giggled, and a new voice chimed in. “Wasn't her mother the schoolteacher in Mrytlesville that the school board fired because she had a baby out of wedlock? I remember my mother talking about it. Maybe Nicole's following in her mother's footsteps.”
‘Yes, her mother was a complete disgrace. She refused to tell who Nicole's father was, so they fired her.”
Nicole looked back at the slop bucket that she'd just used. She was tired of being a victim. Of being discussed as if she had no feelings whatsoever. Without further consideration, she picked up the bucket and strode to the door. With a lunge, she hurled the contents of the slop bucket out the tent, in the direction of the group of women.
Shrieks and screams filled the night air as she calmly set the bucket back in the tent and then proceeded to walk toward the women. They all watched her as she left the tent behind.
“Good evening, ladies. Enjoy the rest of the dance,” she called. She walked past the women as they took their handkerchiefs and dabbed at the moisture that splattered their dresses.
She couldn't quite contain the smile that spread across her face. She'd never done anything so horrible in all her life, but she was tired of being the brunt of their malicious conversation.
When she found Max talking with a group of men, she joined them.
“Excuse me, gentlemen, but I think it's time for my husband and I to be going,” she said, weariness overcoming her. Suddenly, all the fun of the day seemed to have caught up and drained her.
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