Could Max possibly have taken care of Paul and she just didn't know the circumstances?

  All she knew was that the man she'd come to think of as a rock solid, dependable person seemed to have a large flaw she couldn't overlook. As a child who grew up with only a mother, with no means of support, she could not stand by and watch another child suffer the same treatment.

  Maybe Max did watch after Paul, and maybe he did send them money, and maybe he tried to be a good parent to the boy, but so far everything she'd witnessed screamed neglect.

  But Paul had defended his father once before. In all fairness, she should talk to Paul and see what the child would tell her. The last time she'd spoken to him, they'd been interrupted when Max joined them. Maybe this time she could question him at length about his father, find out how a drifter could support a child when he must have trouble supporting himself.

  A drifter who no matter what he did, she couldn't seem to quit thinking about who'd entered her world by accident and now seemed such a big part of her life. She wanted him to leave, yet she feared when he left that nothing would ever be the same. And that frightened her most of all.

  ***

  Max went to his room and stretched out on the bed, determined to get away from Nicole before he said something he regretted. She seemed determined to argue over Paul and he couldn't help but think that stemmed from her own experience of being illegitimate.

  The news had shocked him, yet the signs had all been there and he'd foolishly overlooked them. If only he'd paid attention to her need to get married so her child would not be considered illegitimate, her need to be accepted by the people in town, and her concern for Paul. Everything put together should have alerted him to the circumstance of her birth.

  Yet every time they were together, he couldn't think straight. The smell of lilacs would pervade his senses, sending his thoughts to the fullness of her mouth and the way her lips felt against his own. To the way her breasts felt crushed against his chest and how he wanted to spend an eternity mapping her body. Sometime in the last three months together he had come to enjoy being with Nicole. He liked her determination and spirit. He only hoped all would not be lost when she learned the truth.

  Nicole couldn't get past her own experience of being illegitimate, no matter that Max had been the best father he could be. He didn't like her thinking that he wasn't a good father, he didn't like her having sympathy for Desiree, yet how could he blame her when all her life she'd been shadowed by the fact that her father didn't want her? And Max didn't understand how her father could not want to know his daughter. Nicole would have made the man proud, yet he'd chosen not to be in her life—or did he even know she existed?

  There were so many variables that could have happened, Max wondered if it were possible to even locate her father. Even if he could find the man, would it be his place to tell him of his daughter? Certainly Nicole could benefit from learning of her father, and she was all he cared about.

  Maybe he could have his lawyers search for any information on Nicole's mother. Then if they found her father's name, Max could at least give Nicole the option of locating him.

  Max knew in his heart that he wasn't like Nicole's father, that he would always be there for his son. Yet convincing Nicole to trust him to be better than her own father, and believe he would always be there for her and any children they might have together, seemed impossible.

  ***

  A week later, sitting in the main parlor working on some embroidery, Nicole heard Paul come in alone. Usually Max and Paul came in together, but the boy had returned early and Nicole knew this could be her chance to talk with him.

  She called to him as he passed the main parlor. “Paul, do you have a moment?”

  The boy stopped in the doorway and looked in, his brown eyes wary. “Yes, ma'am?”

  “Have a seat. I'd like to speak with you.”

  “Oh, no, ma'am. I've been out in the fields and I don't want to dirty up your pretty furniture. It's way too nice for me to sit on,” he said, leaning against the door frame.

  Nicole smiled at him. “Your mother has taught you well.”

  He shrugged. “I guess. We don't have such pretty things in our house.”

  “I saw your mother last week when she came to the house. I'm sorry to say I didn't get a chance to meet her,” Nicole said, watching the kid's eyes widen. She should never have mentioned seeing his mother.

  “Mother was here?” he asked, clearly shocked.

  “Yes, she came and spoke with your father. I would have thought that Max would have told you,” Nicole said. Why hadn't he told Paul about Desiree's visit? The boy looked worried. “What did she want? She's been wishing for me to come home.”

  Nicole smiled, trying to reassure the boy. “She spoke with your father, not me, but I don't think you have to worry.”

  “She'll be back,” Paul said, glancing at Nicole worriedly. “I wonder how she found me.”

  “You mean she didn't know where you were?” Nicole asked, surprised. Why would Max keep Paul's whereabouts a secret?

  “No, I asked Grandpa to keep it secret from her,” he said. “She knew I was all right; I just didn't want her to know where I was living. I didn't want her to come here.”

  Nicole found this information stunning. “Why would you do that Paul? She's your mother.”

  “Yes, but I didn't want her following me out here, because I didn't want to go home. Actually, it's taken her longer than I expected to find me.”

  Why would the boy feel this way about his mother? “Isn't your mother good to you, Paul?”

  “Yes, ma'am, she does the best she can on the money she receives, but there are five of us kids and the other fathers seldom pay her anything. Plus her gentlemen friends don't always give her enough money.”

  Nicole bit her lip to keep from gasping as Paul acknowledged his mother's behavior.

  “My mother likes to use men for their money and sometimes it gets her into trouble,” the boy said, shocking Nicole even further. “That's why I wanted to spend some time with my father. He's always taken care of me when I needed something. I wanted to live with him and see what it's like.”

  With a nod of understanding, Nicole said, “I guess this is your first stable home with your father.”

  The boy shrugged. “I could have lived with Nana and Grandpa Viel in New Orleans, but they're kind of strict and Nana yells at Grandpa a lot. But Papa always spent time with me, if that's what you mean.”

  Nicole silently thanked her mother and grandparents who had lovingly taken care of her.

  “I don't understand how your father has paid for you all these years. I'm sure he doesn't earn a lot of money in the jobs he does.”

  “I don't know about that. He's always given my mother money every month for us to live on. It's one of the reasons she doesn't want me to move away. She'd lose that extra money.”

  Nicole was astonished at the boy's statement. He seemed so pragmatic about his relationship with his mother.

  “Don't you think that your mother would miss you? I'm sure she loves you very much, Paul.”

  He shrugged his shoulders. “She'd miss me taking care of the children, doing the dishes, and she'd miss the money my father gives her. I guess she'd miss me.”

  Nicole looked down at the embroidery in her lap and then back up at Paul, noticing for the first time the size of his hands and feet. Once his body grew into his frame, he would be a large man, even bigger than his father.

  “How about you? Do you miss your mother?”

  He nodded his head. “I miss her, but I don't want to go home. Not yet,” he said. “I like living here.”

  “Has your father always been involved in your life?” she questioned, unable to resolve the idea that Max could be different from her own worthless father. Could Max be right, that she compared him to her own experience?

  The boy nodded his head. “Papa always comes around to see after me. I feel kind of bad because my brothers' and sisters' fathers never come around to see them or give them things. Just my Papa. I guess I'm lucky to have him.”

  Nicole wondered once again if she'd been wrong about Max. Could the drifter really care for his son, despite the fact that circumstances were against him? “Yes, Paul. I guess you are lucky to have him.”

  “I have to go now,” he said. They're waiting for me in the barn.

  Nicole watched the boy hurry out the door and scramble down the stairs. She felt a twinge of guilt. Maybe she had overreacted to Desiree and maybe Max had been telling the truth.

  Chapter Twelve

  Max tried one more time to tie the cravat of his tuxedo with no luck. It still looked crooked. He glanced at the clock and realized they should be leaving in the next five minutes. He crossed the main parlor and knocked on the door to Nicole's room.

  “Yes,” she called.

  “It's me. I need some help,” he said.

  She opened the door, and he felt as if his breath was whisked away. The dress she wore accentuated her sparkling blue eyes, with loose curls framing her delicate face, her hair twisted in a knot on her head. Lace teased the bodice of her low-cut dress, draping from her shoulder to her waist and then secured with a tiny bow to one side, giving an elongated heart- shaped effect that looked enchanting.

  “What do you need?” she asked, her voice lilting with excitement “I'm almost ready.”

  The dress was fitted to her bodice and waist, clinging to her and then falling into a flared skirt. Blue satin that matched the color of her eyes filled the v-shaped insert in the front with a matching train trailing behind her. Puffed sleeves were edged with more lace and the rest of the dress was made of some sort of filmy material with floral bouquets scattered all over it. He stood staring at her, knowing she'd never been more beautiful.

  “Uh, sorry, I wondered if you could help me with my cravat,” he said, trying to return his focus to the problem at hand. In the six weeks since the miscarriage she'd lost weight, and slowly the smile had returned to her face.

  “Of course,” she said, and stepped within inches of him. Immediately, the smell of gardenias surrounded him, penetrating all of his senses. The urge to take her in his arms and kiss her until she was senseless overwhelmed him, but he merely cleared his throat and tried to concentrate on how she tied the knot at his neck, which was a difficult task.

  He watched as she tilted her head sideways, her nimble fingers deftly working his cravat until it fitted to her satisfaction.

  “There. Now that should work,” she said, giving it one last tug and then patting it with her hand. She glanced up at him and their gazes locked; the blue of her eyes darkened until they seemed almost liquid.

  Max could feel the tension between them sizzle with sudden awareness. He watched as she flicked her tongue nervously across her sweet, sensual lips and he longed to cover her mouth and sample her until he'd had his fill.

  “I think I'd better finish getting ready,” she said anxiously. “I don't have any slippers on yet.”

  He glanced down at her delicate stocking feet and felt his blood pounding in his veins. When had he ever been enamored of a woman's feet before? Good grief, he was beginning to get a little carried away with this whole idea of marriage. But it wasn't the marriage, it was Nicole.

  “Yes, I see that,” he said, wishing they could stay home and he could slowly undress Nicole layer by layer. “How much longer do you need?”

  “I'll meet you at the carriage in ten minutes,” she said, stepping away from him and retreating back into her room, closing the door with a decisive click.

  Max stood there, breathing in the gardenia-scented air. Sometime in the next few weeks, he needed to sneak off to New Orleans and find his way to the Storyville District, where he could ease this need he seemed to have developed. He would feel this way toward any woman at this point in his life, wouldn't he? There was nothing special about this woman, was there? Yet a part of him couldn't help but refute what his mind kept repeating. Nicole could be happy, she could be joyous, and she could incite his passion quicker than any woman he'd ever met. He turned away, went back to his room, and finished dressing, then hurried down the stairs to make sure the carriage was ready to take them to Ashland Plantation. Tonight the Prudommes were holding a party to announce the engagement of their daughter and the Viels had received an invitation on the advice of his good friend James Francisco, the man he'd met at the crawfish festival.

  A few minutes later, Nicole came out on the verandah, and then, with her dress carefully lifted, giving him a quick glance of her trim ankle, she walked down the stairs until she reached his side. God, she was so beautiful, and he was determined they would enjoy themselves this night.

  “You look lovely, Madam Viel,” he said, deliberately reminding her of their marital status.

  “Thank you, sir,” she said, not taking his bait. “I think I'm ready.”

  “Good.” He helped her into the enclosed carriage he had rented for tonight's occasion and climbed in beside her. Moses sat in the driver's seat and, as Max closed the door, the servant called to the horses.

  “Where did you get this carriage?” she asked, looking around in awe.

  “I borrowed it,” he said. “I didn't want you to get too hot and dusty before we arrived, and I worried it would rain, so I found this.”

  “It's nice,” she replied, running her hand across the upholstery.

  “You know, we could have gone by boat. They're just up the river from us,” he said, teasing her.

  “No, thank you.” She laughed. “I prefer traveling by carriage. Fewer bugs.”

  He smiled back at her, thinking how pretty she appeared tonight. “I guess I never thought of it that way.”

  For several moments she said nothing, but gazed out the window at the passing landscape.

  “I haven't had a chance to speak with you this last week,” she said, turning back to look at him, her face questioning.

  “Yes, I've spent more time out in the fields,” he replied. He'd deliberately stayed away from the house, trying to give them both time to sort things out after their discussion regarding Paul. He'd needed time to cool but he'd also carefully considered everything she'd said. He wanted to be a good father to his son.

  “While we're here like this, I feel the need to tell you that I spoke with Paul at length the other day,” she said.

  Max tensed, afraid of what his son could have told Nicole, wondering if he'd let anything slip that would alert her to Max's real purpose. Then he relaxed. If so, wouldn't Nicole have been angry?

  “He's really proud that you're his father,” she said, gazing at him with admiration. “I was shocked to hear him tell about his mother and his brothers and sisters. He said you were one of the few fathers who sends his mother money.”

  Max nodded, knowing she must wonder how he earned enough money as a drifter. “That's right. I do what I can.”

  “I didn't know, Max,” she said, surprised, her face gazing at him in awe. “I guess you've been trying to tell me, but I just didn't want to believe you. Paul convinced me that you're a good father, and he's very proud of you.”

  “He's a good kid,” Max said. “I just never could have married his mother, no matter that she was expecting my child.”

  “Do you mind my asking why? I mean, I would think that a man who is involved sexually with a woman should be at least considering marriage to her,” Nicole asked, and Max wanted to laugh at her naiveté.

  “At eighteen, young men don't always think with the brain God gave us. Desiree was older and well... let's just say the infatuation soon wore off, but by then she was expecting Paul.”

  What he didn't tell Nicole was that by then he'd realized he wasn't the only man in her life.

  “Did you consider marrying her?” Nicole asked.

  “Yes, but my mother talked me out of it and I'm glad she did,” he said. “Though I wish the circumstances were different for Paul.”

  “At least he knows who you are, and you seem to be involved with his life,” Nicole said and took a deep breath, then released it slowly.

  The sun hung in a precarious balance, caught barely hanging above the horizon, as they turned on to the main river road and headed toward the Ashland plantation.

  “You know, sometimes having both of your parents can be just as troubling as not having your father. I mean, my parents have been married forever and they fight all the time; and each of them seems to want to hurt the other as much as possible.” He sighed. “It can get very ugly.”

  She nodded. “I'm sure that it can. Sometimes people make you wonder why you would ever want to chance getting married again.” She glanced over at him, her blue eyes inquisitive. “Are your parents the reason you've never married before now?”

  He smiled. “No. I've never been in one place long enough and there hasn't been anyone I couldn't live without. After the way my parents fight, I wasn't going to choose just anyone. I didn't want to live with that type of situation, so I determined to make sure I found the right person.”

  “Until me,” she said.

  “Until you. And then I knew I needed to help you,” he said, feeling like a louse for lying so blatantly to Nicole. He'd married her for Rosewood, and though he'd felt sorry for her plight, he still knew his own selfish interests had led him to her.

  “I don't know if I've told you this or not but thanks Max. You've been a big help, even if things didn't turn out right,” she said, the blue of her eyes sparkling with faith.

  “You're welcome,” Max replied, knowing he'd taken advantage of her situation. Yet maybe tonight he'd make progress with Nicole. Maybe tonight he could show her how good they could be together.

  ***

  Nicole felt nervous as she stepped out of the carriage, giving her hand to Max. God, he looked handsome standing there with his hat on, the tails of his suit fashionably long.

 

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