Chapter Fifteen

"Miss Beaumont?" Stephen called. She turned to face him. The moonlight reflecting off her shoulders made him catch his breath.

"Yes, Mr. Green."

"It was a pleasure meeting you."

She smiled and curtseyed.

Stephen was still watching her when Charles found him. Holding his champagne coupe, Charles wobbled, and shifted his gaze to Miss Beaumont's retreating form. "Where have you been? Everyone's been looking for Miss Beaumont."

"We were at the dock."

"Alone?"

"Yes."

"Did you tell her–"

"No. We talked about the piano and nothing more."

"The piano?"

"Yes, the piano in the music room."

"Really. And exactly how is this wooing her?"

"Trust me."

"You say that a lot."

"And I mean it." Stephen slipped his coat on and buttoned it. Walking back to the festivities with Charles, he asked, "What have you been up to? Have you met anyone special?"

"No," Charles replied over the rim of his glass.

"Are you still thinking about the girl who delivered our wash bowl?"

"Yes."

"Who is she?"

"Believe it or not, I don't know."

"Do you mean to say you haven't taken the bull by the horns and approached the young lady? You're usually so forthright."

Charles sent him a scathing look and Stephen held his hands up in mock surrender.

Together they entered the throng of guests. On a platform, the musicians moved to the side as Henri Beaumont stepped to center stage. "Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to my daughter Millicent's eighteenth birthday celebration."

Clapping and approving murmurs ensued. Millicent stood beside him, her face fiery red.

The noise died down and Henri spoke again. "In honor of my daughter's birthday we would like everyone to eat, drink, and have a merry time! Our home is your home. If you need anything, you have only to ask. And yes, my daughter will be available for dancing."

Clapping again rang through the crowd. Henri smiled and offered his arm to his daughter as they descended the platform. Millicent planted a kiss on her father's cheek and immediately a line of men formed in front of her. She placed her hand over her heart and her mouth molded into an "O".

Stephen watched Millicent accept the hand of the first gentlemen. Dance after dance she circled the makeshift dance floor.

"Aren't you going to rescue her?" asked Charles.

"What?"

"You're sitting there like a coiled snake. Just intrude already."

"You think I should?"

"Of course. Remember, I speak my mind."

Stephen laughed and walked across the carpet of thick grass, pausing on the outskirts and waiting for the song to end. When it did, he quickly approached and pulled Millicent into an embrace.

"You appear distressed, my lady. Is there something I can do to assist you?"

"Oh, Stephen, thank heavens."

He cleared his throat to keep from laughing.

"Don't laugh at me."

"Who me? I didn't laugh."

"You did. I felt your chest rumble."

"Forgive me for the deception. I just found your response rather…unusual."

"Humph. My response was perfectly normal."

"Care to explain?" Stephen marveled as torchlight cast shadows of their joined figures on the ground.

"It's simple, really. I know my feet are safe because you can dance."

This time he did laugh. "Indeed."

"You do remember, don't you?"

"Remember what, my dear?" He waited, hoping she would speak of their meeting in New Orleans.

"The masked ball, of course. Although please don't say anything aloud. Father and Mother would be most displeased if they knew I had attended a party without an escort."

"I wouldn't dream of sharing. That afternoon was for my enjoyment alone."

Moonlight dappled Millicent and highlighted the red hue of her flushed cheeks. She dipped her chin and he nudged it with his thumb.

"Don't hide your face. I like looking at you."

The music stopped and she stepped backward. She reached a hand and twisted a loose curl.

"Are you leaving?" he asked.

"I-I thought I should dance with the others. Father will be upset if I don't."

"Of course." He smiled. "But we both know you don't always listen to your father."

She visibly swallowed and stepped forward, placing her lips close to his ear. Her warm breath sent ripples of desire through him. He wanted to draw her close and devour her with kisses, but he remained still.

She whispered, "You do promise not to say anything, right?"

He didn't answer.

"Stephen, you must promise me!"

Her nearness started his pulse racing. He closed his eyes and nodded.

Stepping backward again, she laced her fingers together in the folds of her gown and curtsied. "Thank you."

Stephen watched her rush away. Sighing, he approached a servant carrying a tray of wine flutes. Gulping the first glass, he reached for another. Across the room, Charles gave him a knowing smile.

****

"Will this night never end?" Millie asked Amelia as she plopped onto a chair on the porch and removed her slippers. She massaged her aching feet.

"Yes, but there is still tomorrow."

Millie groaned. Even though tonight was the official celebration, the festivities would continue for a week. Mother had insisted it was the height of rudeness to make people travel great distances for just one event, so she had planned multiple ones. Millie had been afraid to ask the details of her plans and now she feared perhaps that had been a mistake.

Amelia stifled a giggle.

Millie rolled her eyes and slipped back into her shoes. "Amelia, what happens next? I've played piano for the mothers and sisters. I've allowed Father to embarrass me on stage. I've danced with dozens of gentlemen. What more does Mother want of me?"

Amelia shrugged and said as she left the porch, "I have no idea."

Alone at last, Millie closed her eyes and breathed deeply. This was not how she'd envisioned her party; jumping hoops to make everyone happy. No, she'd just wanted to have a few of her closest girlfriends come and perhaps stay the night. Of course, they would be local friends, save one. How she wished Stephenie could have come. Yet, here she was with a crowd of mostly strangers. And no one had really come to celebrate her birthday. They had come to see what they could acquire. Eligible men sought wives. Mothers and fathers sought prestigious marriages for their sons. Everyone sought something. What couldn't be bought or won was garnered through marriage. Millie had seen it happen often enough. Men from other states often came to Louisiana seeking an influential alliance. Her situation was no different.

Millie slipped back to the party. She took a seat at an empty table. A young man winked and Millie sighed. No different at all.

Cora skidded to a halt in front of her. Flushed and perspiring, she offered a generous smile. "Happy birthday, sister!"

"Thank you, Cora."

"Amelia told me to tell you that Mother has her working in the kitchen."

"Very well. Did she also tell you what Mother wants of me?"

"Wants of you?"

"Yes. I've done everything I've been asked, but I'm sure there's more."

Cora's smile broadened. "Why she wants you to have fun, of course."

Two small boys ran past them and Cora lifted her skirts to follow them. She yelled over her shoulder, "See you later."

From across the yard, Millie's gaze fell on Stephen. He touched his finger to his forehead acknowledging her. She couldn't help but smile.