Creole Fires Read Free

Her father would be furious and her mother, usually a little more sympathetic to her exploits, would certainly not be pleased.
    “Quite a lovely spectacle,” the woman replied, eyeing Nicki’s full bosom and nipped-in waist. Madame Gaudin smiled and touched her cheek in the same spot the Frenchman had, though her fingers felt not nearly so warm. “M’sieur du Villier seems more than a little bit taken with you.”
    “Who?” Nicki asked, praying her ears had deceived her.
    “Alexandre du Villier. Surely you know of him? His family is the richest in these parts. They own the great sugar plantation, Belle Chêne.”
    “That was … that was Alexandre du Villier?” Nicki’s face paled. “But I thought the du Villiers were visiting their estates in France.”
    “Le duc
has gone. I have heard he is ill. Alexandre is leaving today to join him. His brother, François, will remain to manage Belle Chêne.”
    “Oh, no,” Nicki said, feeling even more despondent. “My father will be furious.”
    “Your father and the du Villiers are friends?”
    “Yes. Since the war.”
    “I have not seen you before. You are not from here?”
    “No.” She extended one small hand. “I’m Nicole St. Claire. From Meadowood on Bayou Lafourche. We’re here visiting the Christophes.”
    “You are the daughter of Etienne St. Claire?”
    “Yes.”
    The plump little woman’s voice took on an aura of reverance. “Many know of your father. He was a great hero in the war against the British. It is an honor to meet his daughter.”
    “Thank you. I’m happy to meet you too.”
    Madame Gaudin smiled, but her eyes whisked over Nicki’s torn and dirty clothing. For the first time, it dawned on her that Madame Gaudin might think Alexandre du Villier had something to do with her missing clothes.
    Oh, Lord, what next? “About my dress, ma-dame …” As Nicki hurriedly explained about the men who had attacked her, her half-naked ride through the streets, and Monsieur du Villiers timely rescue, a relieved Madame Gaudin pulled her behind a second curtain that closed off the fitting rooms from the rest of the shop.
    She was a seamstress as well as the wife of the storekeeper, she explained when she returned with a pale pink muslin day dress embroidered with tiny darker pink flowers, the sleeves set low on each shoulder.
    “It may be a bit too long, but it will be easy to shorten.”
    “It’ll be fine just as it is,” Nicki told her. “I’ve got to get back before dark.”
    “I am certain M’sieur du Villier would be happy to escort you, even if his journey must be postponed.”
    “Ah, non!”
Nicki rolled her eyes. “That is the last thing I need.”
    Madame Gaudin clucked at her. “You are right, of course. You are much too young for that wild stallion. But who knows …?” She shrugged her plump shoulders. “Maybe in a few years, when he returns from the Continent …?”
    Nicki grinned with the sudden realization that the idea wasn’t at all unappealing. Hadn’t she said she wanted a man who would sweep her off her feet?
    “Most likely he will have forgotten me,” she said, wondering if indeed he would. “He’ll probably be married to some dowdy aristocrat.”
    Madame Gaudin’s eyes twinkled with mischief. “Maybe … maybe not. I think he will not soon forget
la petite mademoiselle
with eyes the color of a Caribbean sea who rode the streets of La Ronde in her corset and chemise.”
    Nicki groaned at the reminder and finished getting dressed. “I don’t suppose I could impose upon your kindness a little more and ask you not to tell him who I am?” Maybe her father wouldn’t find out after all.
    The plump woman grinned mischievously. “He will ask—but I suppose for Etienne St. Claire’s daughter, I could forget who you are—at least for the next few years.”
    “Thank you, madame. I’ll be forever in your debt. Oh, and if you’ll send the amount due for the dress toMeadowood …” She hated to spend the money.