When Strangers Marry (Vallerands #1)(39)

The Vallerands were no less volatile than Gaspard, but even in a temper they were soft-spoken. Unlike Gaspard and his ineffectual rantings, they knew how to wound with a few expertly chosen words, and at times the brothers were merciless with each other. When a woman was present, however, all arguments were restrained, and the conversation was steered into gentler channels.

Lysette was beginning to believe the statement Noeline made one day, that the Vallerand men were born with the knowledge of how to charm women. Since childhood, Lysette had been accustomed to Gaspard’s poorly veiled dislike, which was why she found herself so easily disarmed by the Vallerands’ attentiveness.

Alexandre often made a great show of taking her aside to ask her advice on matters of the heart, claiming with a roguish wink that any woman who had managed to catch his brother was certainly a great authority. Bernard regaled her with tales of his travels abroad. Philippe shared his favorite books with her, and Justin accompanied her on rides around the plantation.

They were a literate family, devouring books and newspapers and boxes of periodicals imported from Europe. Lysette quickly came to enjoy the family gatherings in the parlor every evening, when they would read aloud, or play word games, or debate political issues while the twins staged inventive battles with battalions of painted lead soldiers.

Ironically, Lysette saw all the other Vallerands far more than she did her own husband. Max was constantly busy, either occupied with plantation business, his political activities, or his shipping operations. He was in the midst of negotiations to purchase another ship to add to his fleet of six, and he was adding another route to the West Indies and appointing a manager to open an office there.

In addition, he was supervising the construction of more warehouses on the riverfront. These activities occupied him for most of every day, until he returned at suppertime. In the evenings, Max relaxed with the family in the parlor, or shared a bottle of wine with Lysette in the privacy of their room.

Since their passionate interlude two weeks earlier, Max had made no further advances to Lysette. She had been tempted on occasion to ask him to make love to her, but she did not yet feel that the time was right, now more determined than ever to win his affection first. In the meantime, she enjoyed the hours that they talked and argued and flirted. The more she came to know her new husband, the more she was coming to care for him. Max was a strong man who bore his responsibilities without complaint, motivated by duty and a sense of protectiveness toward his family. However, he also possessed a ruthlessness, a dominating strength, that fascinated her. Clearly, if she were a meek and docile wife, she wouldn’t have lasted five minutes with him. But instead of being intimidated by his forceful will, she delighted in challenging him, and he knew it.

Even though they did not share a bed, Lysette was aware of Max’s comings and goings. About twice a week, he left the house at midnight and did not return until three or four in the morning. She did not believe that he was visiting a mistress. But if he was not with a woman, what in heaven’s name was he doing?

Finally Lysette decided to confront him as he returned from one of his mysterious outings. Max entered his bedroom in the middle of the night to discover his wife waiting for him, the lamp burning at the bedside. Resting on the pillows propped against the headboard, Lysette greeted him calmly. “Bon soir, Max. I wonder, what could you have been doing at such a late hour?”

Max smiled wryly. “Nothing that you need to concern yourself with. Now go back to your own bed, or I’ll assume that your presence here means that you’ve finally decided to fulfill your wifely obligations.”

The threat did not deter her in the least. “You can’t dismiss me that easily, Max. If this happened on just one or two occasions, I might have overlooked it. But you have made a habit of these midnight excursions, and I want to know what is going on.”

Placing his hands on the bed, Max leaned over her until their mouths were nearly touching. “I’ve been attending to a few matters concerning my shipping operations.”

“Why can’t such work be done during the day?”

“Some business, my sweet, is better conducted at night.”

“You’re not doing anything illegal, are you?”

He held up his thumb and forefinger an inch apart. “Just a little illegal. Nothing more harmful than a cargo of silk stockings, a few cinnamon bales… and several thousand English pounds.”

“English pounds? But why?”

“The supply of hard money from Mexico was severed when the Americans took possession of the Louisiana Territory, and no one has confidence in the French and Spanish paper money that is available. I fear Governor Claiborne’s plan to distribute American paper will have several false starts, and in the meanwhile…”

“But don’t you want to support Governor Claiborne’s efforts?”

His smile was at once casual and ruthless. “Oh, I’m under no special obligation to Claiborne. I help him when I’m able. I also help myself, when the opportunity arises.”

Lysette didn’t like the idea of her husband dealing in contraband goods, no matter how minor. “If you’re caught—”

“Come, you need to sleep,” he interrupted. “You have shadows beneath your eyes.”

“I wouldn’t, if you stayed home at night,” she grumbled, yawning hugely as he pulled her from the bed and slid an arm around her waist.