Chapter 5 #2
Elizabeth could feel Jonathan’s warmth. Without thinking, she reached over and took his hand. A little too late she realized it was his bad arm, but she didn’t let go when he tried to pull away with his other hand. He’d have to learn how to use his arm sooner or later.
She rubbed her fingers back and forth across his hand until he seemed to relax, and to her amazement he didn’t move his fingers. She’d never let him give up. Maybe there was a chance that Jonathan would recover, and the past would be behind them.
The carriage halted in front of the French Exchange. Gaslights sputtered all around the building, casting a warm glow into the chilly night and showing off the elaborate decorations, Elizabeth noted as she embarked from the vehicle.
When they entered, they were informed that the upper part of the Exchange was for dancing. Dinner would be on the lower portion in precisely two hours.
Climbing the staircase, the murmur of voices grew louder. Flowers and colored lamps were everywhere. A huge banner, Jackson and victory: they are but one!, was draped across the barrister.
Elizabeth noted that all of society had turned out for the occasion, dressed in bright colors much like her own dress. Maybe the New Orleans culture had rubbed off on her.
She was escorted over to the receiving line where she was again introduced to the general. She was surprised at how haggard he looked. Evidently the battle had taken its toll.
“General, you remember my wife?” Adam said with a nod. “And my sister, Elizabeth.”
Elizabeth took Jackson’s extended hand. His long, thin fingers felt cold. “It is nice to see you again,” Elizabeth said. “Congratulations on your victory. Our city will be safe once again.”
Jackson smiled broadly. “We have the two gentlemen with you to thank for our safety.” He patted Adam on the shoulder. “Without their help, the triumph could have gone the other way.” Jackson regarded Jonathan. “I heard that you decided to take a ride across my battlefield, Son. How is your wound?”
“I’m left with a mangled limb, General, so I’m of little use to anyone.”
“Nonsense! You are as good as you were. No, I take that back. You are better because now you have experience under your belt.”
“I’m not too sure. They wanted to take off my arm. Said it would be useless.”
“A good thing you didn’t let them. Never did trust those old sawbones.” Jackson waved his hand to clear the air. “Enough about war. Let me introduce my wife.” He took her elbow in his hand. “This is Rachel.”
“My pleasure,” Elizabeth murmured to a short, plump lady who didn’t look like she belonged to the general. He was just the opposite—tall and very thin.
The four of them walked over to a corner where they could talk and watch the dancing. Elizabeth didn’t want to embarrass Jonathan. She knew he could still dance, but of course he would think otherwise.
Just one look at him told her he’d grown tense. She could almost feel him changing, and she didn’t want him to. He was drawing away from her again. Peter Thornbird approached across the floor, a man Elizabeth had seen several times while Jonathan was in England.
“You look much too serious, Miss Elizabeth. Perhaps a dance would help,” he said with a smile and a slight bow. He never took his gaze off her, and that made her feel quite uneasy. “That is, with your permission, sir,” he added, addressing Jonathan.
Jonathan simply nodded, his expression more distant than before.
Did he even care if she danced with Peter? Blast Jonathan for feeling sorry for himself. She needed to do something to shake him up and bring some life back into him. So, she took Peter’s hand and he led her to the dance floor.
After several whirls, she felt herself relax. Soon, she was laughing, and before she knew it, she had danced three straight dances with Peter.
Jonathan felt his collar tighten as he watched Elizabeth swirl across the floor.
He hadn’t been able to take his eyes off her.
She looked like an angel dressed in that beautiful pink gown.
Just as the music ended, another man approached her and asked for the pleasure of the next dance.
It seemed every man in the place was smitten by her beauty.
He looked around and counted dozens of eyes on her.
Jonathan forced a blank look, but he was feeling increased frustration. He didn’t care for those men holding her so close. However, they did have two good arms and could offer her much more than he could, he thought, deeply lamenting his loss.
Elizabeth was tired. Just as the music started, Peter asked, “Would you care to go again?”
“I’d better get back to Jonathan,” she answered breathlessly.
Peter offered the crook of his arm to escort Elizabeth off the dance floor. “I heard that you’ve been keeping company with the gentleman. Are you engaged?”
“No,” Elizabeth murmured. She frowned as the question began to run through her mind over and over again.
The way things were going, she might never marry.
She was doomed to be an old maid, but it was worse since she’d finally found love.
Perhaps it was time she took the matter into her own hands.
She looked at Jonathan as they came closer.
He stood leaning casually against a post watching her approach, and he didn’t look very happy. A warning cloud settled on his features and a muscle quivered at his jaw.
“Thank you for the dance, Miss Elizabeth,” Peter said, and bowed graciously.
“Try dances.” Jonathan’s dry voice cut through the air like a sharp knife.
Peter’s face reddened. He glanced at Elizabeth, then made a hasty retreat, not bothering to say more.
Elizabeth’s blood pounded, causing her face to grow hot with humiliation. “That was rude, Jonathan Hird!”
“Monopolizing your time is rude,” he informed her sarcastically.
She lifted her chin. “You could have asked me to dance.”
“You know damn well—” Jonathan never finished his sentence because of a commotion at the staircase. Murmurs rippled through the crowd.
Elizabeth swung around to see what had drawn Jonathan’s attention and that of everyone else. Two very tall gentlemen had just emerged. Every woman in the room started turning one by one to stare at them, including Elizabeth. “Who are they?”
“Those two gentlemen, my dear, are Jean and Pierre Lafitte.”
Elizabeth took a quick breath in utter astonishment. “They’re nothing like I expected.” The taller one, who, she assumed, was Jean from the stories she’d heard, stood at least six feet tall and was extremely handsome.
“Did you expect eye patches and bandannas tied around their heads?”
“I—I’m not sure. There have been so many stories circulated about them. And here they are, dressed like the rest of the gentlemen.”
Jewel and Adam greeted Jean and Pierre first, and before Elizabeth could move, the four of them were coming their way. Jean’s hair was sleek and black and his profile classic. He was dark and slender. Pierre was tall, too, but not as impressive as his brother.
“Jean and Pierre, I would like you to meet Adam’s sister, Elizabeth,” Jewel began.
“Mademoiselle,” Jean said in his delightful French accent as he brought her hand to his lips. “What a rare flower in our midst.”
Jean’s sparkling dark eyes would be hard for any woman to resist and Elizabeth could tell he was accustomed to using those charms with women.
His mischievous smile proved that. “I have heard about you,” Elizabeth said before she thought.
“I assure you none of it is true,” Jean said with a grin. “I wish I could say the same of you, but your brother has done a good job of keeping you secret.”
“Look elsewhere, Lafitte,” Jonathan said with a silken thread of warning in his voice.
Jean looked at Jonathan with an arched brow. “It’s good to see you, too, Jonathan. I suppose the wound has made your disposition ... what shall we say? Sour?”
“A bit,” Jonathan admitted.
“Pierre and I will be sailing soon. We could take you with us and have you back in shape before we return to port. The sun and the sea have never failed to cure anything.”
“I wish it were that simple,” Jonathan said, his tone a trifle wistful.
“There you are!” General Jackson called as he approached the group. He shook Pierre’s hand and then Jean’s.
“If you will excuse us,” Pierre spoke his first words as he took Jewel’s hand and led her onto the dance floor, “I would like to dance with my niece.”
At the same time Adam took the general’s wife for a whirl around the floor.
“Anytime you want to fight with my men, you are more than welcome. Your men are almost as good as my coon hunters,” Jackson joked to Jean.
“Almost?” Jean stared at the general. “I will give you that point on land, my friend. But on the sea, my men would be fighting while your coon hunters would be hanging over the side of my ship heaving.”
Jackson laughed. ‘You are probably right. But in all seriousness, it was an honor to have your men fighting with my own.”
“Ladies, gentleman. Dinner is being served downstairs,” Governor Claiborne announced as he laid his hand on Jackson’s shoulder. He bowed toward Elizabeth. “I’m afraid I must steal our guest of honor.”
Jean turned to Jonathan as the general and Claiborne strolled away. “Claiborne is one man I have no use for.”
“Nor I,” Jonathan agreed, shrugging. “But he is our host. And we should be cordial for at least one night” he added, then looked at Jean. “Shall we dine?”