Lily (Song of the River) (13 page)

His jaw dropped. He disappeared inside, and she heard his heavy footsteps descending stairs before he reappeared, his broad shoulders filling the main entrance. “What on earth are you talking about?”

Mr. Champney coughed, and she thought she saw him hide a smile.

Letting go of her escort’s arm, Lily opened the strings of her reticule to pull forth her deed to the
Hattie Belle
, glad a last-minute impulse had made her bring it along. “I recently purchased this boat, and you are to vacate it immediately.” She waved the vellum sheet toward him for emphasis.

He grabbed the deed and unfolded it.

Lily didn’t see why he should be so interested in reading about her purchase, but she supposed it wouldn’t hurt for him to see the proof in black and white.

“What kind of trickery is this?” The man ignored her and directed his question to Mr. Champney. “Or have you been gambling again?”

Her breath caught as Mr. Champney’s face turned bright red. Was he about to demand satisfaction for the insolent words?

The butterflies in her stomach turned into a hardened lump. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, sir.”

“He’s no ‘Sir.’ His name is Blake Matthews.” Mr. Champney’s voice had an edge she had not heard before. “He’s nothing but a gambler—a man who relies on Lady Luck to make his living.”

The anger she had sensed in Mr. Matthews dissipated suddenly. He folded the deed and handed it to Lily. “Yes, I’m a gambler, and I depend on my wits to survive. I like to think of my lifestyle as being free of the strictures of modern society.” His gaze speared the man beside her. “It’s better than being the wastrel son of a conniving businessman.”

Mr. Champney’s brows lowered once more. “Be very careful who you slander.”

“What slander? Your father decided to bail out of our business deal by selling his interest to a naive young girl who ought to be home, batting her eyes for an adoring husband.”

The air seemed to thicken. How dare this man—a gambler—patronize her! She drew herself up to her full height of five foot three. “I don’t know what you’re doing here, Mr. Blake Matthews, but I suppose it is an arrangement you had with Mr. Champney when he was the owner of the
Hattie Belle.
Since that is no longer the case, I would greatly appreciate it if you would gather your belongings and remove yourself from the boat.”

“And if I don’t?” The look in his blue eyes reminded her of a stalking cat—predatory, dangerous.

Lily lifted her chin. “Then I will call on the sheriff to remove you.”

“That will be hard to do, my dear.” His lips curled into a triumphant smile. “You see, barely a week ago the upstanding young man next to you lost to me in a card game. And he gave me his deed to the
Hattie Belle
as payment.”

“But I own—”

“If you read your paper carefully, you’ll find you own a portion of the boat we’re standing on.”

Lily unfolded the deed once more and saw the language he meant. “Controlling interest?” She skipped the legal wording that made no sense to her and found that she owned exactly 51 percent of the
Hattie Belle.
Her mind spun. She didn’t own the boat outright? After all the money she had spent, she had to share her boat with someone else? Tears sprang to her eyes as her dreams collapsed.

She had been duped. Tricked by Jean Luc’s father. The sunlight dimmed, and the sounds of the river seemed far away. What was she going to do? What could she do? Beg her uncle for help straightening out this mess? Unthinkable. She would have to make the best of it. Hadn’t she planned to face down any obstacles to her plans? She would not give up at the first challenge.

Her mind raced. She could still make this work. Surely a few trips delivering cargo would give her enough money to buy the rest of the boat. She nodded and lifted her gaze to meet the blue eyes of the man standing in front of her. Her partner. Her temporary partner. “As soon as I have sufficient money, I will buy you out.”

His eyebrows rose. “You’re going to buy me out? I don’t think so. I have my own plans for the
Hattie Belle.
”

“And that will be fine as long as they meet with my approval.”

“Your approval? You’re only a girl.”

That might be so, but Lily had been raised on a thriving plantation, and she had seen her grandfather handle myriad problems through the years. She drew on that experience for her reply. “Nevertheless, I am the one in charge.”

Mr. Champney coughed. Was he amused? She didn’t have time to be affronted, so Lily ignored him, concentrating instead on Mr. Matthews. “I would like a tour of our boat.”

His face looked as if chiseled from a block of stone. She could read disapproval in every line of his body.

Part of Lily wanted to run back to Les Fleurs plantation. But that was her old life. Her new life was in front of her, if only she could summon the courage to embrace it. She would do this, for herself and for her sisters.

Mr. Matthews apparently recognized her determination. He bowed and swept his hand toward the inside of the boat. “Right this way.”

B
lake watched the little spitfire as he took her through the boat—their boat. Grudging admiration filled him for her spirit, but she needed to learn this was no place for a lady.

Maybe explaining the physical labor involved would convince her to be a silent partner. Instead of being bought out, he could likely put together enough money in a month or less after opening his casino to pay her off and forget she existed.

“We have constructed several tables for poker, and I am looking for a roulette wheel to purchase.” His chest expanded as he detailed his plans. The
Hattie Belle
was going to be gorgeous when he finished. “I’ll hang ruby-red curtains on the windows to keep the customers from realizing what time of day it is. That way we can run the games constantly. This boat will earn more money in a week than it could earn from six months of running cargo up and down the river.”

“Delivering cargo will not strip wealth from people.” Her disapproving tone matched the look on her face.

What had he expected? She was no doubt too puritanical to immediately agree. But if he could make her see the profits at stake, surely she would change her mind. “We’ll have food and libations available at all times. I already have an excellent chef who will take care of the meals.”

Jensen stepped from the doorway of one of the staterooms, and Blake heard a soft sound from the spitfire. He expected to see an expression of horror on her face, but instead sympathy filled her large brown eyes. Her gaze met his, and he was instantly wrapped in her warmth. “This is Jensen Moreau, my steward and chef and handyman rolled into one.”

Jensen seemed to be lost in a trance. He was looking at someone behind Blake, a silly expression on his weathered face. If Blake wasn’t mistaken, adoration filled every inch of Jensen’s face.

Blake turned to see what had caused such a response. Miss Anderson’s chaperone? Curiosity kept his attention centered on the woman. She had to be a few years older than Jensen, and if he judged correctly, a necessary ability of a gambler, she was devoted to her mistress and would have no time for a romance.

“Good morning, Mr. Moreau.” Miss Anderson stepped forward and curtsied.

Jensen came out of his trance, but the gentle smile that looked so odd on his face remained. He bowed, exhibiting more grace than Blake would have thought possible. “Welcome aboard the
Hattie Belle.
”

“You may not realize it, Jensen, but you are welcoming your new employer.” He shot a tight smile at Jensen’s shocked face. At least he had managed to refocus the man’s attention to important matters. “Miss Anderson has purchased interest—”

“Controlling interest.”

Her interruption made him grind his teeth. He consciously loosened his jaw before continuing. “
Controlling
interest in the
Hattie Belle
, and intends for us to get the boat in shape to run cargo.”

“I don’t rightly understand.” The man looked from Blake to the spitfire, but his gaze moved back to the slave and settled there. It appeared Jensen had been struck by Cupid’s arrow.

Jean Luc made a disgusted sound. “Can we get this over with? I promised I would have Miss Anderson home in time for luncheon.” He pulled a watch from his waistcoat. “We need to leave before much longer if I am to keep my word.”

She tilted her chin upward in a gesture of defiance, showing she intended to stay as long as she pleased.

If Blake didn’t want the lot of them here all day, he needed to come up with a distraction. “I do have a problem you could help me with, Miss Anderson.”

Her chin came down a notch. Her brown eyes gleamed with triumph. “What is that, Mr. Matthews?”

“Jensen here needs to concentrate on getting the kitchens ready, but I cannot do all the carpentry by myself, much less the cleaning.” He nodded to the scattered bits of wood and sawdust where he’d been working. “Perhaps you could hire some help.”

She nodded, and her bright smile moved her face from the realm of pleasing to attractive. “Do you have a captain?”

Blake gathered his wandering thoughts. “I don’t think we’ll need a captain since the boat won’t be leaving the bank.”

“I see.” She ran a finger across her chin. Miss Lily Anderson’s frown was rather cute.

Blake steeled his heart. He couldn’t afford to let her puppyish eagerness get under his skin. He would give her tasks to keep her busy until he could put together enough money to buy the boat outright. Then he would send her home where she belonged.

“You’ve given me much to think about, Mr. Matthews.”

He bowed to the three of them and swept his hand outward. “This way to the stairs.”

Jensen came up beside Blake as he watched Jean Luc help the women pick their way around muddy patches on the way back to the carriage.

“That’s one mighty pretty girl.”

Blake frowned. Was Jensen talking about Miss Anderson? He followed his friend’s gaze to where the slave, Tamar, was climbing to her seat.

“I thought she turned your head, but I have to warn you, I doubt she’ll leave her little chick. She’ll probably want to stay with Miss Anderson until she marries, and perhaps even after.”

Jensen sighed. “She’d never look at the likes of me.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, man. You’re a fine fellow with a steady job and a good heart. Any woman would be lucky to be the object of your affection.” Blake hid his doubts from the other man. Jensen would probably forget all about his attraction after a few days. As much as Jensen prized his freedom, Blake could not see the man settling into matrimony. But if his friend decided he did want to win Tamar’s heart, Blake would do everything in his power to help him realize his dream.

Jean Luc whipped up his horses on the ride back to Lily’s home. He needed to figure a way to turn the obvious enmity between Lily and Blake to his advantage.

Sliding a glance to the young woman perched beside him, Jean Luc wondered what had happened to her determination to use the
Hattie Belle
for ferrying cargo. She had seemed so certain of her plans. Had she been overwhelmed by the enormity of the work to be done? Or had she simply knuckled under the pressure applied by Blake?

Of course she was only a woman. Truth to tell, he was a bit relieved Lily wouldn’t be joining the world of business. Women had no place in that sphere. He might not have put it as crudely as the gambler had, but ladies should concentrate on their families and households.

He stole another glance at Lily. What was she thinking? He couldn’t tell from her expression, but it must be engrossing as she had not said a word for the last mile. “Is everything okay?”

She started as if awakened. Her brown eyes were full of apology as she turned to him. “I’m afraid I was caught up in my plans. Thank you so much for taking me to the
Hattie Belle.
I don’t know when I could have gotten there on my own.”

“It is my pleasure. When Papa told me what Blake intended to do with the boat, I thought you would want to know about it.”

“Yes. And you knew right where it was docked. I doubt I could have found it on my own.”

He basked in her approving words. At least she admired him. He could grow accustomed to her smile and the glow in her large brown eyes. It was a welcome relief after the vitriol he’d recently gotten from his parents. “I could not believe Matthews wanted you to hire help. I doubt you’ll want to ask your uncle for assistance since you said you wanted to keep him from learning about your purchase, so I’d be glad to take on the task of interviewing some of the local workmen and sending them to the boat.”