Crescent City Courtship by Elizabeth White

Author:Elizabeth White
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: Harlequin (UK) Limited
Published: 2009-09-11T20:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twelve

A damp chill enclosed in a messy fog drifted from the river to blanket the tumbledown buildings and twine around Abigail and Winona’s ankles as they crossed Poydras Street the next morning. Abigail wished she’d brought a wrap. But that would presuppose she had one, which she didn’t. Perhaps she could save a bit of what Camilla paid her in next week’s wages and make something serviceable for the mild New Orleans winter—a cloak or even a shawl. The cold weather would come in fits and starts, then be gone by March. But when one needed a wrap, one needed a wrap.

She looked around. Nothing in the District had changed, of course. Same hovels with uncovered windows and broken doors, same pitted road, same reek of garbage in the gutters. Barely a week since she’d moved in with the Laniere family and already her life was so drastically different she hardly recognized herself. She’d gotten used to cleanliness and order, the fresh scents of baking bread, antiseptic and lye. As she walked along beside Winona, hugging herself, dodging mangy dogs and vacant-eyed beggars, she held her breath against the almost palpable odor of corrosion and fear.

She couldn’t help thinking of the families who had been evicted from the burned tenement, particularly the man whose wife and baby had gone missing. They had never been found. Oh, Lord, where are you when I come back here? Have you abandoned these people?

She glanced at Winona, whose curly dark hair was twisted in a knot at the back of her head, the ends of a sober brown shawl blowing around her shoulders as she walked. Dressed in a brown-spotted cotton dress, a bit faded with washing but otherwise neat, Winona managed to look fresh and content with her circumstances. Well, and why not? Like Abigail, she had somehow escaped the clutches of the District, to hold a position with a prominent family who treated her with respect and paid her an adequate wage.

Abigail’s thoughts leaped helplessly back to Friday afternoon in the library. After John had walked her home, maintaining an amused silence that set her teeth on edge, he’d bid her adieu in the clinic anteroom and sauntered into the kitchen to talk to Winona. Abigail had rushed up the stairs. Pausing at the landing, she’d listened shamelessly, but John and Winona’s conversation was serious, their voices low and intense. An unexpected discomfort made Abigail hurry on to her room. She was not jealous. Positively not.

But why must her thoughts continually circle back to a pair of laughing hazel eyes?

To escape her circling thoughts she touched Winona’s arm. “Have you lived here all your life?”

Winona glanced at her and smiled. “Since I was small. My parents were slaves over in Mississippi. We escaped here after the Union took New Orleans.”

“Oh my.” During the American war between the states, Abigail’s family had been in China, insulated from the conflict that tore apart her place of birth. In the short time since she’d returned, she found herself jarred again and again by the ramifications of the recent struggle.

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