When Strangers Marry (Vallerands #1)(52)

Lysette’s anger faded. “Max,” she said in a softer tone, “you can’t protect me from everything.”

“I can try, though.”

She laughed and shook her head. “I suppose this is what I deserve for marrying a Creole.”

“Do you plan to begin another letter this very moment?” he asked.

“Probably not. Pourquoi?”

“Because I would enjoy it if you would accompany me to town. An important visitor arrived this morning, and I expect to hear some interesting speechmaking at the Place D’Armes.”

“Oh, I would enjoy leaving the plantation,” Lysette exclaimed. “I haven’t set foot off it even once since I first came here. But it will be another week before I can properly be seen in public, and I don’t wish to start all of New Orleans gossiping—”

“We’ll stay in the carriage,” Max interrupted, amused by her excitement. “We would have to in any case— it will be too crowded for us to move about freely. Cannon fire, parades, music. All to celebrate the arrival of one Aaron Burr.”

“Who is he? Oh, yes, that man you and Governor Claiborne don’t like.” Flying to the dresser, Lysette rummaged through his top drawer for her gloves.

———

The Place D’Armes, the town square built to face the river, was filled with a noisy crowd that had gathered from miles around to see and hear the notorious Colonel Burr. This morning, the twenty-fifth of June, he had arrived in New Orleans after a long western tour through Ohio, Kentucky, Tennessee, and Natchez, paying visits to powerful allies and making speeches to approving crowds.

Burr had been received everywhere with hospitality and acclaim, for he stated that he had the interests of the West at heart, and that he only wanted to help the territory grow and flourish. Few people suspected the more sinister purpose behind his journey.

It was remarkable that in the upheaval of the festivities, the distinctive black and gold Vallerand carriage drew almost as much attention as the sight of Aaron Burr himself. The rumor that Maximilien Vallerand’s new wife was there spread quickly and soon there were swarms of people surrounding the vehicle, both American and Creole, craning their necks to see inside. Even Max had not expected the attention Lysette’s presence would attract.

Lysette stayed away from the windows of the carriage, concealing herself from view, but she could still hear the excited voices outside, referring to her as la marièe du diable… the devil’s bride. She looked at Max in amazement. “Why do they call me that?”

“I warned you what to expect,” he said. “You’re married to me, which is reason enough. And no doubt your red hair causes people to assume that you have a volatile temperament.”

“Volatile? I have the mildest disposition imaginable,” she said, and frowned at his sudden snort. Before they could debate the issue, however, Governor Claiborne began to make his welcoming speech. Lysette leaned forward in the carriage seat, wishing she could be outside.

There was a world of alien sights, sounds, and smells just beyond the walls of the carriage: abrasive calls of vendors selling fruit and bread, the barking of dogs, the cries of chanticleer roosters and dunghill fowls.

Occasionally she caught a whiff of strong French perfume as fine ladies passed by, and the smells of salt, fish, and refuse carried on the breeze from the riverfront. Boatmen strolled by chattering in languages she had never heard before. And as always, whenever Creoles and Americans were in the same vicinity, there were scuffles, arguments, and swift challenges to duel.

Above the melee, Governor Claiborne struggled to be heard. As the speech progressed, Lysette accepted a glass of wine from her husband, and rested her foot on his lap as he removed her shoes and massaged her soles. His hands were strong and thorough, making her squirm in pleasure as he worked the soreness out of her feet.

Lulled by the wine and the gentle manipulation of her feet, Lysette let her mind wander as the governor detailed many of Burr’s past achievements. “He’s rather long-winded,” she remarked, and Max chuckled.

“That’s the kindest description of a lawyer I’ve ever heard,” he replied.

“It sounds as though Governor Claiborne admires Colonel Burr very much,” Lysette said.

“He despises Burr,” Max replied with a grin.

“Then why—”

“Politicians, sweet, often find themselves required to pay homage to their enemies.”

“I don’t understand—” Lysette said, and stopped as she heard a dull roar that began on the edge of the crowd and grew until it became a great wave of sound. Her eyes widened. “What is it?”

“Burr must have stepped into view,” Max said. “Thank God. Claiborne will have to end his speech now.” He moved to the door and opened it. “I’m going to stand outside to listen.”

“Max, may I—”

“You’d better stay in here.” He threw her an apologetic glance. “Sorry.”

Lysette folded her arms resentfully as he left the carriage. “Well,” she muttered to herself, “what good is leaving the planation when I have to stay in here the whole time?”

The tumult outside increased, and she sidled to the window, sticking her head outside in an effort to see past the mass of people, carriages, and horses. She heard a new voice in the distance, a strong and forceful one that cut through the hubbub, greeting the crowd first in French, then Spanish and English. The congregation erupted in hearty applause, shouts, and whistles.