The Moon and the Stars (19 page)

“How do you expect me to do anything with you watching me so closely?”

“I wasn't—I didn't.”

“You were, and you did. I am not the monster you think I am.”

“No.” She met his steady gaze. “How can I think that of someone who took such tender care of me?”

He reached toward her and then pulled his hand back. “It was no more than I would have done for anyone under the same conditions.”

“I believe that about you.”

He took up the document again, and she turned her head to look at New Orleans. The horses' hooves clipped along at a steady pace while she examined a tall brick building with iron grillwork. She saw a garden
behind an iron fence and wondered about the lives of the people who lived there. “I have never been to New Orleans before.”

“Then I must be your guide,” Wade told her, putting his document back in the satchel. “If you will look far to your right, you can see the steeple of St. Louis Cathedral, which was built in 1795. We are on the side of the river that was first settled by those of Creole ancestry.”

“That would be your ancestors.”

“I believe so. There was a time when all Creoles looked down their aristocratic noses at what they called the ‘unacceptable Americans' when the tide of settlers migrated to the other side of the Mississippi after the Louisiana Purchase.”

“Dolly told me that you are Creole.”

Knowing Dolly and how she liked to talk, he gave her a guarded look. “I am, however, not one of the aristocrats. I would have to be classed with the ‘unacceptable Americans' had I lived back then, because I do not know my heritage, and I probably never will.”

Caroline was glad that Dolly had told her about Wade's past because it allowed her to better understand him. “Tell me about your home,” she said, switching the conversation.

“I believe you will find it comfortable, although it is nowhere as old or as large as your father's home in Charleston.”

She quickly looked at him. “You saw my father?” She didn't wait for his answer before she posed another question. “You were in my home?”

He had not intended to let her know about his visit with her father until later. “I did have a short conversation
with Mr. Richmond when I first began my search for you.”

Her chin jutted out. “He would not have told you anything about me.”

“He thinks you may be dead.”

Tears gathered in her eyes. “My poor father—how he must be suffering.” She did not want Louis to hear, so she lowered her voice and said in desperation, “You must understand that I have to go home as soon as possible. If for no other reason than to take care of him. My father has no family to speak of, just distant cousins in New York, whom he hardly knows. I'm all he has.”

Wade became silent and turned away. It stabbed him deeply to see tears in her eyes. She was not the kind of woman who used tears as a weapon like some women he had known; if she cried it was because she felt something deeply. “Perhaps you would like for me to send him a telegram and let him know that you are all right.”

She shook her head. “No. You can't do that. Brace might find—” She frowned and shook her head. “Of course, you have probably already informed Brace that you were bringing me here, so he knows where I am.”

He turned to her so quickly it took her by surprise. “Do you really believe that?”

She caught the gruffness in his tone and raised her chin to a higher level. “It's what he hired you for, isn't it? You have been very clear about your intent.”

He now knew the reason she had never contacted her father: She was afraid she would endanger him if Brace found out about it. The one thing Wade had not wanted to do was upset her and make her cry. “Let me tell you about my house. It is just outside the city. It is rather large with some wrought-iron grillwork. I think you will like the gardens.”

She tried to concentrate on what he was telling her, but her mind kept taking her back to her father. “How was he when you saw him?”

He knew she was not going to let it go until she got some answers. “Since I did not know him previous to our conversation, I would be hard-pressed to judge how he was.”

“Did he look well to you?”

He had sworn to himself that he would never be untruthful with her. “I thought he looked frail.”

She lowered her head for a moment while she composed herself. “He was well the last time I saw him. Of course, that was three years ago.”

“I know that. He told me.”

It was too painful to talk of her father, so she switched the subject. “I suppose you have many servants?”

Wade was more than happy to talk about something else. “Actually, no. I do not like a lot of people around the house. There is Mary—I told you about
her. She is the cook and housekeeper. She has two ladies who help her with the cleaning, but they go home at night. There is Louis, of course, and two gardeners. Of those three men, only Louis lives on the grounds. His place is above the carriage house.”

“And what about Jonathan?”

“So,” he said, crossing his legs and resting his hand on his boot, “Dolly told you about him, too.”

“Yes, she did. Will I be seeing him?”

“Not at this time. He is away at school.”

She could tell from his irritated tone that he did not want to talk about the boy. But Caroline was at her best when she was gleaning information. Her father had always said the troops could have used her during the war to ferret out information from the enemy. “He goes to school in the city?”

“Apparently, Dolly did not tell you everything,” he remarked stiffly. “Jonathan attends a school in Baton Rouge.”

At the present, they were passing out of the city and down a country lane. In the distance Caroline could hear the water of the Mississippi River as it lazily wound its way toward the Gulf of Mexico. The road curved, and they traveled beside the river. She craned her neck to get a better look. To her left, along the river road, she saw several large estates with very fine houses.

Louis turned between two huge wrought-iron gates and maneuvered the horses up a curved driveway. The house was a two-story red brick with a wide veranda sweeping across the front of the house, and a gallery that curved along the second story.

“Your home is very beautiful,” she said, more puzzled than ever as to why he would revert to being a bounty hunter if he lived so well. He was definitely a man of prominence. “Just how much money did Brace offer you to find me?” she asked.

He stared down at her, his jaw muscle tightening, refusing to answer her question. “I have never thought of this as a home, but merely a place to live.”

She thought it was a strange statement for him to make, and she wondered if his cryptic words had a deeper meaning. He was too complex for her to understand, and she certainly was too weary to verbally battle with him at the moment.

He disembarked and held his hand out to her. “Welcome to Renault Manor.”

She looked at him and frowned. “Who are you? Are you the man who unfeelingly took me captive, or . . .” She indicated the house and grounds. “Why did you come after me?”

“Perhaps I will tell you some day.”

As he led her up the walk and onto the porch, a cool breeze stirred the huge cypress tree in the front yard.

“This would be such a lovely place to raise a family,” she told him, turning and looking at the Mississippi River curving around the bend.

Wade's clasp on her hand tightened as he momentarily envisioned children with her sky-blue eyes running and playing on the lawn. He opened the front door and ushered her inside. “Are you feeling all right?”

She gave him a tired smile. “I am fine. I wish you wouldn't worry about me.” That thought suddenly
took her by surprise—he really did worry about her. She realized that he was probably feeling guilty for the ordeal he had put her through. It suited her just fine to let him bear the guilt.

They entered a room that was so large it took up the whole front of the house. It was light and airy, filled with sunlight from the windows on both sides of the room. There were three lemon-yellow couches and chairs and several end tables set about the room. The wooden floor gleamed as only aged oak can when highly polished. There was a door to the right and an ornate staircase leading to the second floor.

She heard the ticking of a huge grandfather clock that seemed to preside majestically over the room. She glanced up at Wade and found him watching her as if waiting for her assessment. “It is very lovely,” she said, turning around as she tried to get the complete picture of the room. “Lovely indeed.”

His attention was drawn to the doorway, and a genuine smile curved his mouth. “Mary.” He stretched out his hand to a woman who wore her silver-white hair in a tight bun. Her faded blue eyes danced with delight, and she rushed forward to grab him in a hug. It was the first time Caroline had seen him display genuine affection for anyone.

“Well, if it isn't himself, deciding to grace us with his presence once more,” Mary said in a soft Irish brogue. “We'll not be letting you go so soon again.”

“Home at last, Mary.”

She turned, smiling at Caroline, and pulled her hand away from Wade, patting her hair into place and straightening her snowy-white apron. “And this
would be Mrs. Duncan. We have been expecting you,” she said, not giving Wade time to introduce them.

“I have heard much about you,” Caroline said.

The housekeeper's gaze was guarded, and it seemed to Caroline that she was carefully measuring her. “If himself told you about me, you should take only half of what he said as truth.”

Wade smiled down at Caroline. “I want you to meet the woman who runs my life. She boxed my ears when I was a lad, and I believe she would do the same today if she decided I needed it.”

“Now, don't be taking anything he says to heart, and don't let him be fooling you, ma'am. He has had me right where he wanted me since the day I first laid eyes on him. I never could discipline him, and he needed it more than most.” She smiled at him. “You know you did.”

He was clearly amused. “Perhaps I still do.”

Caroline could see that the housekeeper adored Wade. It was strange to see him in a domestic setting. This was still another side of him that didn't fit. She wondered what other surprises she would discover about him.

He immediately assumed the role of master of the house. “Mary, will you see Caroline to her room? The doctor says she needs plenty of rest.”

“Everything is ready as you instructed in your telegram. I'll have Louis fetch the doctor as soon as I get Mrs. Duncan settled in.” She waited for Caroline to precede her to the stairs.

But Caroline turned to Wade. He must have communicated with the housekeeper at the last stop the
train made. Of course, he would never leave any detail to chance. “I'm feeling so much better, thank you. I don't really need a doctor.”

“Do not distress yourself,” Wade told her, his mind already moving to other matters. “The doctor may suggest nothing more than a proper diet to build back your strength.”

A frown creased Caroline's brow. “I want to get well as soon as possible. I have to go home.”

“Go with Mary so she can get you settled.”

He watched her climb the stairs, seeing her strength wane when she was halfway to the top. He wanted to rush forward and carry her the rest of the way, but Mary sensed that Caroline needed assistance and took her arm, helping her to the landing.

The bedroom Caroline entered was so large it overlooked both the front and the back of the house. It served as a sitting room as well as a bedroom. The decor was striking, and the colors included every shade of blue she could think of. The Aubusson rug was a soft blue. The bed hangings and matching spread were in dark blue with cream-colored edging. A blue velvet couch and two chairs made a charming sitting area. Just off the bedroom was a large dressing room.

Mary pulled the drapes open, allowing sunshine to flood the room. “I have opened the windows on both sides so you will have a cool cross breeze. I hope you will be comfortable here, Mrs. Duncan.”

She smiled at the housekeeper. “How could I not? This is a lovely room.”

Mary moved to the double doors and threw them open wide. “Although it is a large room, I think you
will find it cozy. I believe you will find the balcony equally delightful. What is unusual about this room is that it has two galleries—one looking north and the other south. The north gallery has stairs that lead down to the garden.”

Caroline walked out on the balcony and caught her breath. She gazed upon a sweeping lawn, then spotted a tempting path that led past a tinkling fountain. To her left was a colorful garden with flowers of so many varieties she could not have put names to all of them. Oak, hickory, and dogwood trees vied for space in the huge area. She could only imagine how beautiful the grounds would be in spring when the dogwoods were in bloom. She decided that at the first chance she got, she would explore every corner of the garden.

She put her hand on a cane-bottom rocking chair, resisting the urge to sit in it and rock. She was startled when she noticed that another door also led to the gallery.

“Mary, whose room is that?”

“It belongs to himself, but have no worry about that. He had me move his belongings to a bedroom at the other end of the hallway so you would feel more comfortable here.”

“I did not want to put him out of his room.”

“He would have it no other way. He thought you might be uncomfortable if he were so nearby. He was always one to observe proprieties.”

Caroline knew that about Wade if she didn't know anything else. Sometimes she thought he was too much of a gentlemen. “And no one will ever gainsay him,” Caroline observed.

“No one I know of would ever dare,” the little Irish woman replied with honesty.