Chapter Twelve #2
“She gave you something other than the dogs?” Luc cocked his head to one side, daring her. What was he fishing for?
Grace shook her head and eased her hand from his. “Nothing terribly important. Some advice and an amulet.”
“Amulet?”
“She said it was the symbol of a Voodoo Loa called Eshu. It is supposed to protect me from harm, but I mustn’t over use it. Evidently Eshu does not like to be bothered with minor problems.”
Luc grinned. “And you are supposed to offer a sweet of some sort when you do call on him for help.”
“How did you know that?”
“It’s a common enough practice for believers to give the Loa sweets, which I understand these mystical beings like very much. But you already knew that.” Again, there was a dare in his blue eyes.
Did he challenge her because he thought her weak? Why would he think that? She’d been at pains to hide her personal doubts and fears.
“Well, Mambo Ayezan told me to do so. However, when I lived and worked in Boston, I had one or two clients interested in Voodoo artifacts.”
“Those must have been interesting appraisals.” Luc’s tone was even, interested, but there was something he wasn’t saying.
Halfway down the dock, she paused and turned to him. “The work was fascinating. Sadly, I had to tell one of them that the gris gris he’d hoped was a century old and made in New Orleans was a Chinese fake.”
“A century old gris-gris? That is surprising. Most of those dolls are made from organic materials which should disintegrate with time, especially in a climate like that of southern Louisiana,” Luc remarked.
“Are you here tonight for any particular reason?” Grace changed the subject, even though she preferred he did not think she missed him. Knowledge was power, and he knew too much about her already.
He captured her gaze, staring into her eyes for a very long time. “Yes. I need to warn you that you are in great danger.”
She jerked her head back, and tucked her chin. “I beg your pardon? Why would you try to frighten me like that?”
“Whoa.” Luc held his palms up. “I am not trying to frighten you, although you should be scared. Scared enough to take precautions.”
“Precautions like wearing that amulet? Like ordering my dogs to attack strangers on sight? Perhaps I should shoot before asking questions the next time someone invades my property?” She needed to remind him that she did not see him as completely safe.
His appearance from nowhere at their first encounter had frightened her.
That fear lingered despite the earlier comfort of her hand in his.
“I haven’t even said what sort of danger yet.
Don’t you think that accusing me of a wish to terrorize you is a bit extreme?
” A deep frown marred the Irishman’s handsome face.
Now she stared. She bit her bottom lip to keep it from wobbling—Luc didn’t need to see that, either. “N…no, yes, I don’t know. I haven’t known you for very long. For all I know, you are the person sending intruders to Sweet Dreams in some twisted attempt to get me to trust you.”
His mouth thinned. “Why is trust so difficult for you?”
Grace shifted to look out at the bayou. What to say?
He was very direct. Could she admit she liked spending time with him? What hazard would there be in his knowing that? Such knowledge wouldn’t give him much sway, since she’d be perfectly happy without his company. It wasn’t as if he were seeking her fortune or to use her for nefarious ends.
“You’re frowning.” Luc took her hand in his again. “I would not cause you a moment’s grief or anxiety. Shall I leave?”
“No,” she said, meeting his gaze once more. “I was simply thinking how to reply.”
“It isn’t a complex question.”
“Perhaps not for you. I, on the other hand, have good reason to think carefully about whose company I keep,” she said.
“Reasonable, given the events of your life in Boston.” Under the light of the full moon, empathy shone in his blue eyes.
“Thank you for your understanding,” she said. “I believe you have been hurt also?”
“Deeply.” For a moment, his face was drawn and weary, as if he carried constant pain.
“I am sorry if I have stirred unpleasant memories.” Grace frowned. She didn’t want to hurt him, either.
“That sorrow is all in a long dead past.” His voice was strained. She would’ve believed him, save that he spoke almost too quickly and his breathing increased.
Those signs were familiar, because she’d seen them when she’d confronted her former fiancé and friends. They had not appreciated being called liars. Luc would not appreciate it, either.
Her hand still in his, she began to pace slowly along the dock. “Long dead past, or more recent hardly matters. We both have suffered from the actions of others. Let us find another topic and enjoy the bayou night.”
“You are a wise woman, not to dwell in past sorrows.” His smile was slight, but she smiled back.
“That’s why I came back to Sweet Dreams,” Grace confessed.
“I remember, your aunt told me you had been born here. Why did you leave?”
Her heart skipped. More than twenty years, and the past still hurt.
As much for what she didn’t know, as what little she recalled.
“When I was five, a fire started in the house.
My parents died trying to fight the fire, and help arrived too late to save them.
At least, that is what Aunt Sarah told me.
I have only vague memories of those events and no knowledge of how I escaped my parents' fate.”
“Your aunt was living in Boston at that time?”
“Yes. I was sent north to live with her, and Uncle Henry. They may not have been my birth parents, but they were always present. They helped me through my grief and gave me a balanced home life. They had no other children, but they did not spoil me with overindulgence. I’m very grateful for all they gave me, all they taught me.
” She’d been loved once. A long time ago, she reminded herself.
“What are some of the things they taught you?” Luc asked. He was staring. It warmed her, but Grace ignored the sensation so she could continue.
“I hardly know how to respond; there is so much.” This was good. Speaking of her aunt and uncle would distance her from the feelings that threatened to tie her to Luc.
“Then just the most important things.”
“Mindfulness,” she stated. “In nearly everything they did or said was an element of mindfulness. I thought I’d learned mindfulness well, but engaging myself to a man who lied and cheated is proof I did not.”
“Mindfulness?” he asked, his brow tight.
“Careful consideration of the impacts that any statement or action might have for themselves and for others.” Grace instructed, even though he probably knew. “They never opposed anyone?” Now his handsome countenance was thoughtful. As if the idea was foreign to him.
“Not usually, no. However, when conflict arose, every impact of their response to that conflict was held in mind. Sometimes, potential negative consequences were ignored in favor of an action they deemed essential,” Grace said, happy not to speak about herself, her feelings.
“Ah. I understand ‘mindful’ now. My brother was like that.” Luc nodded.
“It must have been wonderful to have a sibling.” The words were out of her mouth before she realized what they might tell him about her.
The turn of Luc’s mouth and the way he held his eyes made her imagine he was perplexed.
“Did I say something wrong?” she asked.
“No, not at all. My half-brother, Caleb, was my best friend up until the day I left Britain.” Wistfulness replaced the strain in his voice.
“Why did you leave?” She wanted to know. Aware that his answer might draw them closer, she risked asking.
“I had a disagreement with our father—among other things.” He spat out the words.
Grace waited, hoping he’d provide the details. Not wishing to intrude and a bit fearful of how he might take the question she wouldn’t ask.
Luc paused to gaze at the moon for long moments before he spoke.
“I was young. I fancied myself in love with a woman whom my father deemed ineligible.” A smile trembled onto his face before a scowl chased it away.
“She was not the right sort of female for our family. He threatened dire consequences for her and her family, unless I swore, I would never see her again.”
“And did you?” Grace couldn’t resist asking.
“I asked her to marry me.” His posture straightened the smallest bit.
“You defied your father. How old were you?” Grace had never defied anyone, not until the trial that forced her to defend herself.
“Nineteen. It was a long time ago.” He sighed.
Grace maintained her lock on those blue eyes. “Did she accept?”
“No. Though she was younger by a year, she was wiser than I. She knew the divide between our families was insurmountable.”
“Oh, that is tragic.”
Luc turned his eyes to Grace. “Thank you for your empathy. However, her rejection was not as tragic as making both our lives the misery it would have been had we married at that age.”
“And your father never relented.”
He shook his head. “No. I was the younger son and was less important. Nonetheless, I was his son, and he would not have me bring shame or scandal to his name.” Luc’s brogue began to thicken.
They fell silent, the bayou around them alive with noise. An alligator’s growl shook them from reverie.
“You said Caleb was a half-brother.”
“Aye. Flynn is my mother’s family name. She and my father never married.” Luc’s jaw clenched. “He would have had no problem if I’d made my beloved a mistress, rather than wanting her as a wife.”