Emilie (The Cajun Series Book 1) by Claire Cherie

Author:Claire, Cherie [Claire, Cherie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: historical romance
Published: 2016-02-16T08:00:00+00:00

The sun began to disappear between the live oak trees and still her clothes remained damp. A fitting end to a horrendous day, Emilie thought. After Celestine and her mother had removed her clothes and insisted upon helping her with her bath, the two women asked the nearby families for clothes, only to return home empty-handed. Emilie wouldn’t have minded wearing her jupon, or petticoat, until her clothes dried, but even her undergarments were caked in dirt. She ended up wearing one of Celestine’s father’s shirts, which draped over her torso like a priest’s cloak, and Charles Braud’s tight britches, which threatened to suffocate her. And as if to mock her and all her inadequacies, her large feet protruded from the inches-short trousers like those dreadful cypress knees. She would have cried, but she was past tears.

“The dance is going to start soon,” Lorenz said as he approached. “Will your clothes be dried by then?”

When Emilie glanced up at Lorenz’s towering figure, dressed in a clean, pressed shirt and trousers and a dark blue vest and looking every bit as handsome, the tears returned. Despite his height, Lorenz never had trouble finding clothes to borrow. And there would be dozens of women eager to catch his hand in a dance that evening, looking as breathtaking as he did. Emilie wouldn’t be one of them.

“My clothes are still wet,” she said, not caring of the emotions emerging in her voice.

Lorenz sat down next to her on the back stairs leading up to the house. Emilie pulled her exposed shins up underneath the enormous shirt and Lorenz sent her a sly smile. It was a fruitless gesture; he had witnessed her legs many times before.

“It’s not proper, you seeing me like this,” Emilie said anyway.

“True.” Lorenz twirled his hat in his fingers. “Since we don’t intend to marry, it’s best we stop enjoying the liberties we’ve shared before.”

Emilie felt the tears rise in her eyes thinking that not only would Lorenz forget their passionate secret kisses and marry another, but their livelong friendship would be over. It was all well and good. He was better off with the likes of angelic Celestine, but she couldn’t bear the thought of it.

“Have you heard news of Papa,” she said fighting back the anguish.

Like so many times in the past, Lorenz caught an escaped tendril of Emilie’s hair and tucked it behind her ear. “There are men here who remember him.”

Emilie’s hazel eyes shot up to his and Lorenz felt the power of her gaze deep in his soul. God, how the woman could move him, even after three days of endless arguments or refusals to talk sense. The woman’s power over him was a constant mystery. Every logical thought in his brain urged him to move on, to marry another, to find a sensible girl who would be happy to marry a healthy, hard-working man. But Emilie owned a piece of his heart, and no matter how hard he vowed the contrary, she would always do so.

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