Page 32 of Frankly, My Dear

“There are no buts,” he snapped, his fingers digging painfully into her upper arms. “And you’re doing just what I warned you about—creating a scene.”

Selene looked around quickly. He was right. People were watching their angry interchange with curiosity. Luckily, Victor hadn’t yet noticed them.

“Listen, just give me five minutes to talk to Fleur. That’s all I ask. Can’t you distract Victor for a few moments? Please,” she begged tearfully. “He’s going to kill her, you know, along with their unborn child. Georgia told me so.”

James flinched at her revelation, and his eyes involuntarily went to the young girl who waited patiently for her master, eyes lowered demurely. Turning back to Selene, he studied her intently, then finally loosened his grip on her arms. “Five minutes,” he agreed stonily, then spun on his heel and stormed over toward his brother. Within seconds, she heard their angry exchange of words and all eyes in the rotunda turned to the two brothers.

Selene rushed over to Fleur and pulled her toward a shadowy alcove before the girl had a chance to protest.

“Fleur, listen carefully. I’m not going to hurt you,” she told the frightened girl quickly. “I’ve been sent by a relative of yours—”

“A relative? Who?” Fleur inquired, curiosity overcoming her alarm.

“It doesn’t matter,” Selene said, waving a hand dismissively. “I need to know something. Are you pregnant?”

The girl gasped and put a tiny hand to her flat stomach. “How did you know? I haven’t told anyone yet, not even Victor.”

“Oh, God, whatever you do, don’t tell him.”

“Don’t tell the child’s father? Whyever not?”

“Because he’s going to try to kill you.”

Fleur cried out softly and tears of terror pooled in her dark eyes, but the girl didn’t protest the allegation as impossible.

Fleur’s soft outcry caused Victor’s head to jerk toward them. His eyes darted suspiciously between James and her, and Selene knew she’d only have a few more moments.

“Listen to me carefully, Fleur. I’m a friend. I’ll do anything I can to help you. Do you understand?”

The girl nodded hesitantly, her brown eyes wide with fear.

“My name is Sandra Selente…Selene. I’m staying at the St. Louis Hotel with Victor’s brother, James. We’ll be there four more days. Then we’re going to his plantation at Bayou Noir. Please come to me for help. Anytime. Anywhere.”

Squeezing the young girl’s hands in hers, she held her gaze for a long time until Fleur finally nodded in understanding. Then Selene stepped away and addressed James’s vicious half brother with exaggerated exuberance, “Why, Victor, how wonderful to meet up with you again!”

Victor snarled something obscene and grabbed Fleur’s arm, yanking her brutally toward him. Fleur cried out softly in pain, but did not try to pull away.

“What the hell are you doin’ with mah woman?” he growled in a deep Southern drawl.

“Why, I was jus’ introducin’ myself to yoah lovely wife, Fleur,” she mimicked through gritted teeth, gleeful at the purple color that infused Victor’s face at her referring to the quadroon as his spouse. “You all mus’ come and see us sometime at Bayou Noir,” she continued in a honeyed accent.

It was James who swore then and grabbed her arm. Pulling her out of the rotunda, he muttered something about “stupid women, stupid schemes, and stupider men who listened to stupid women.”

Chapter Six

Victor shoved Fleur through the door of their Rampart Street cottage and slammed the door behind them. Finally he would be able to vent the rage he’d had to restrain since the exchange with his half brother.

“What did James’s fiancée want with you?”

“Noth…nothing.”

“Liar,” he gritted out, advancing on her.

“She mistook me for someone else…a relative of a friend. I swear.”

“Tell me everything. Everything.”

“At first she did not believe me when I said I did not know her friend. It is as I say, Victor. When have I ever lied to you?”