Twisted Oak: A Sexual Odyssey (40 page)

“Oh, thank you, miss, I’m excited about it.” She looked at the croquet green as if in deep thought. “I never knew how good it would feel to be my own person.”

“After only one day?” Mr. Delacroix asked. “I’m pleased you’re feeling good, Marie, but give yourself some time; remember, Girl can’t stay here forever.”

“I know, sir. Have you heard from Jackson?” she asked as she looked at her water glass.

“Marie, you know I don’t have contact with him.”

“I thought maybe, sir, he would at least try to contact me—I mean, contact you.”

“Cher,” he said tenderly, “it’s over. He isn’t coming back to you.”

“I know, sir,” she whispered.

“Marie, there’s more to share,” I said, trying to change the subject and get back to sunnier conversation. “Mr. Delacroix, may I share our news?” I asked.

“Yes, love.” He sat back and sipped his coffee.

“Marie, I’m to wear his collar.”

“Oh, miss, that’s great news. Mr. Delacroix, I knew it!”

“Knew what, Marie?” I could tell he was amused.

“I could see with you two, sir, that you make a good match. But where is the collar?”

“It’ll be here soon. It’ll happen before we go back to the city.” He sat his coffee down and Thomas handed him the newspapers.

“And there’s another thing too,” I said.

“What, miss?” Marie sat on the edge of her chair like a child on Christmas Day.

I leaned over and whispered in her ear, so Thomas and Samuel could not hear. “Today Mr. Delacroix wants you and me to have a threesome with Girl.”

She squealed like a little puppy and clapped her hands. “What a fun day.”

“Yes, Nezzie,” Mr. Delacroix said, “let’s do have fun.” He shook his paper out and put up the wall.

“Shall I set lunch for three or four today, sir?” Thomas asked.

“Set it for four. Girl will be here before we sit for lunch. Oh, and Thomas, remember, she’s a vegetarian,” Mr. Delacroix said from behind his big desk in the library.

“Yes, sir. Is there anything else I can get for you?”

“A refill on the lemonade would be nice,” he said as he opened a file folder.

“Right away, sir.” Thomas collected the nearly empty pitcher from the sideboard and left.

Marie sat at the piano and worked on her Liszt. Mr. Delacroix was going over papers he had brought with him from the city. I was busy trying to figure out how to be busy. I had Monique’s journals, but I was fascinated to watch Mr. Delacroix concentrate on his work. I had rarely seen his life outside the one we shared.

“Nezzie, come,” he said as he pulled a heavy wooden office chair up beside his. “Are you bored, my love?”

“No, sir. I’m going to read Monique’s journals.”

“Why not read some of Jean-Pierre’s books? I’m sure they aren’t as insightful as Monique’s, but they may interest you. They’re mostly ledgers, date books, and business contacts. I think there are records of his travels in there somewhere too.”

He pushed the ladder down the side of the tall bookshelf wall and climbed halfway up. I glanced over at the papers on his desk and noticed an invoice with his business insignia on it. The bottom line read nearly six million dollars. The reality of his great wealth struck me in that moment. I could not believe how lucky I was.

He pulled down a large black leather binder and blew dust off the edges of the thick paper. “I need to get on Miss Melva to dust these bookshelves,” he said as he climbed back down the ladder. “It’s a mess up there.”

The binder was heavy in my hands. “Thank you, sir.”

“You’re welcome, my love. You know, if there’s anything you need or want to know, it’s probably in here or in town. Feel free to look around all you want, and if you need something else, I can check for you at the office. We’ve got a small archive over there, too.”

Jean-Pierre kept detailed records of his travels and transactions. The binder included ledgers of money in and money out, and was dated precisely including the location and time of day the transaction took place. For the era, he traveled extensively. No wonder Monique had so much time to write and pose for her artist. I could see why Jean-Pierre thought she would be lonely. Would I be lonely at Twisted Oak? I suppose with Marie here, I would have some company. I looked at her working hard at her piano, deep in concentration, barely aware of our world.

I found a cargo inventory manifesto attached to this personal note: coffee, sugar, and humans. My skin crawled with the thought, but I kept reading.

I recalled Mr. Delacroix’s words about how I inspire him to work harder, to be more successful. Would my presence compel him to do things below his sensibilities? I knew what that was like.

I wondered how much of the Delacroix wealth was made in the slave trade. I shuddered at the thought, but at least Jean-Pierre had disdain for it.

“Sir?” I asked quietly, hoping he would not be upset at the interruption.

“Yes, my love?”

“I see Jean-Pierre mention a Mr. LeGeneret, my lord. Is that the same family as the Mr. LeGeneret I met the other night?”

“Yes. Our families have a long history,” he smiled.

“Business history it appears, sir,” I said, hoping for clarification.

“Jean-Pierre and Luc-Richard LeGeneret had a close relationship in and out of the workplace.”

I closed my eyes and concentrated on Mr. Delacroix’s voice whispering,
Neige Blanche Monique Delacroix
. My thoughts wandered to being collared and I wondered what he had in store for me; what it would be like and how things would change. I recalled Sunny saying the collar is one step toward having a ring on my finger. Mr. Delacroix’s voice rang in my mind:
In another decade or two, you'll be right where they are, in your own way.
Doubt crept in. Was I ready? Was I out of my depth?

I started when I opened my eyes to see him standing in front of me holding a glass of lemonade. “My lord, you scared me.” I set the binder down on the coffee table.

He sat next to me. “I’m not an alligator,” he laughed. “What’s your brain thinking about now?”

“Being collared, my lord,” I said.

Panic shadowed his brow. “Second thoughts?”

“No, my lord, no second thoughts, just thinking about what it’ll be like and how things might change for us, for me.”

“What do you want it to be like? Do you wanna do something like Jackson and I did or do you want something more formal? It can be any way you want. And as far as any kind of change,” he sipped his lemonade, “you’ll be able to call me Gregory-Michel or Greg, however you prefer.”

“The rules won’t change, sir?” I asked.

“In essence, everything changed when we pronounced our love for one another.” He leaned against the back of the sofa. “I take love seriously because it doesn’t come often and it’s lost too easily. That part isn’t a game, my love.”

“It isn’t for me, either, sir.” I fell into him and he put his arm around my shoulders.

“Good, then it’s settled. We’ll do something simple and real, Nezzie, just you and me.”

“It sure was pretty down by the water this morning when the sun came up, my lord,” I said, hoping he would get the hint.

“Yeah, it was, but not half as gorgeous as you are. Remember what I said about being here. If you prefer the city, we can go back and stay there,” he said as he set his glass down. “I know you miss all the people.”

“Yes, my lord, but if I wasn’t with you, I’d miss you too much. I’d go to the end of the world to be with you. It doesn’t matter where we are or who is here, as long as we’re together.”

“I couldn’t agree more.” He lifted his glass to his luscious mouth. “We’ll see how it goes and decide later what’s best. As it is, we can go and be anywhere, can’t we?”

“I suppose so, sir, but that’s up to you. You’ve got your work, so I guess it’s best to be wherever you need to be for that.”

“With a fax machine, telex, a telephone, and overnight shipping, we can be in Tahiti.” He smiled. “All anyone requires of me these days is a signature anyway. This place almost runs itself with Thomas here, and that’s okay because I have you to contend with.”

“I hope that’s a good thing, sir, because you’ll be stuck with me forever,” I said.

“That’s the best thing anyone has ever said to me, baby. The idea of being stuck with you makes my heart sing.”

I snuggled into his neck and he lay his head on mine.

The phone rang, but he did not move to pick it up. Moments later Thomas came in. “Sir, Mr. Williams is on the line.”

Mr. Delacroix sighed. “All right, thanks, I’ll get it.”

And so it went for another hour or two. He went over papers, signed them, and answered phone calls while Marie played her piano and I picked through Jean-Pierre’s binder. I found his entries to be short, to the point, and very insightful as to his feelings for Monique. He loved her very much and feared he would lose her. His insecurities surprised me considering his stature in the portrait. I suppose every human is insecure at some point.

“Sir,” I said once again.

“Yes, my love?”

“Fifteen hundred in gold back in Jean-Pierre’s day was a small fortune, wasn’t it?”

“Indeed, it was. This is why he sailed with his ship, to make sure his gold was delivered and his inventory adequate. It was difficult to trust people back then.”

“And now, sir?”

“I have my people in foreign ports that do that type of work for me. It’s a small world now, Nez; easier to trust people because it is a helluva lot easier to hunt them down if they fuck you over.”

His voice was stern and cold. The notion of him hunting people down made a chill run down my spine. His tone was so flippant, as if this happened regularly. I wondered what really happened to Steve and his friend that day they were escorted from Jackson Square.

I tried to sound as if his words did not bother me. “I see, sir.”

“Back in those days, there were pirates and all kinds of backstabbers. Jean-Pierre was very adept at looking after his assets. My family always has been out of necessity. We’re good at protecting what belongs to us.”

“Of course you are, sir.” I buried my head in the book again.

“You’re my most valuable asset.” He looked as if he were going to say something and then his phone rang. I listened to his conversation while I pretended to read.

“No, I won’t make it this week, but I’ll be in the office Monday morning. Send the courier and Thomas will have the packet for him to bring back. Everything’s in order and ready to go with both deals. The revisions look good. If you get it out by this afternoon, we should be ahead of schedule. . . . Nope, I won’t be available after lunch today or all day tomorrow. No, he won’t be back for a while, not sure when. . . . Yeah, I know. He decided to take a leave of absence, a little hiatus, much needed, I think. . . . She’s fine. We’re all good. . . . I’m not sure. We’re gonna see how it goes, but I’m doing some work on the place. . . . Yeah, it’ll be ready to go within the hour, so your man can leave anytime. I won’t be available, but Thomas will have the packet sealed and ready. Thanks, talk soon,” he said, and hung up.

There was a knock at the door. “
Entrer
,” Mr. Delacroix said.

“Sir, Girl has arrived,” Thomas said when he entered. “Shall I show her to the parlor?”

“Is Marie there?” Mr. Delacroix asked.

“Yes, sir.”

“Then show Girl to the parlor. Miss Nez and I will join them momentarily.”

“Lunch will be served in about a half hour, sir.”

“Thank you. Bring her bags up to Marie’s new rooms. She’ll be staying there.”

“Yes, sir.” The large door closed with a small click.

He took my hand and led me out of the library into the foyer. I stopped to look at Jean-Pierre’s portrait again and reflected on his devotion to Monique. I marveled how it was that I ended up here in this family.

“Mr. Delacroix!” Girl’s voice was flowery and serene. She came to him with her arms open. She was almost as tall as he was, with flowing, wavy red hair pulled back in a loose braid. She had bright green eyes and milky skin. Like Marie and I, she wore no makeup. Her dress was long and fell in soft waves of cotton gauze, transparent in all the right places. Her shoes were leather sandals, flat and strappy up her ankles.

“Girl, it’s always great to see you.” He held her long and hard. That ugly twinge of jealousy coursed through me. She did not seem as old as Mr. Delacroix had made me think.

“I’m glad to be here for you, my dear monsieur.” She smiled and looked in my direction. “Neige Blanche, Mr. Ladnier told me you were beautiful, but I had no idea. Please, call me Girl.” She held out her arms and held me for longer than I expected. My jealousy abated.

She sat in a cloud of patchouli scent. “We’ve been waiting for you to come along for quite a while. We’ve all been in an altered state since James died, may the universe caress his soul.” She closed her eyes in reflection. “It’s like the whole universe freaked out and we lost our balance, but I feel everything coming back into synchronicity now, don’t you?” She looked at Mr. Delacroix.