Target by Stella Cameron

Author:Stella Cameron [Cameron, Stella]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: MIRA
Published: 2007-12-12T23:00:00+00:00

This was no hot-chocolate-and-cookies invitation to Delia’s pink, green and lavender boudoir, the room which, like her bedroom, she had kept as it was in the late 1800s when a Mrs. Lafource, wife of Colonel Lafource, actually lived in the house and these had been her rooms. Today’s visit to Delia’s faithfully refurbished lair felt like a court appearance with a lot of doubt about who the accused might be.

Delia stood beside an empty, white bamboo birdcage where her beloved parakeet, Yuri, lived when he wasn’t taking long baths in his mistress’s claw-foot tub. Aurelie could hear voices coming from the bathroom, one was Yuri’s delivered with a heavy Russian accent (the bird had been a gift to Delia from an admiring Russian playboy who’d trained him to talk), and the second voice, Sabine’s, her rich tones punctuated with laughter.

“Yuri is taking a bath,” Delia said as if this was news. She waved a hand toward the bathroom. “He needs lots of attention, lots of games. Sit down. Sarah shouldn’t be long.” She turned away and raised a lace drape from a window set into an alcove.

White silk draperies tinted a shell-pink looped above the curved top of the window and fell on either side to settle in soft heaps on pale green carpet. The same fabric, supported by gilded cherubs, formed soft puffs over a mahogany daybed.

Aurelie never quite got used to the opulence in these rooms but she did understand why Delia had wanted to preserve a little piece of history. “Did Sarah say she was coming right over?” If she had, she should have arrived.

“More or less.”

Aurelie looked at Nick, who had also remained standing. “I hope she gets here soon,” he said. “I’ve got meetings all day. So do both of you—or at least you’ve got things to do other than wait around for Sarah.”

“I hear my name,” Sarah said, walking in and going directly to the daybed, where she flopped down on lavender velvet pillows and hauled up her feet, without removing her sandals. “Okay, Delia, here I am. What’s so important?”

Nick strolled to the daybed, pulled off Sarah’s sandals and deposited them on the floor.

“Thanks,” she said with a sweet smile.

He nodded and his attention wandered back to Aurelie—again. She wore a deep green sundress that fitted snugly over her breasts and showed off a small waist. The full skirt swirled around her knees when she walked. Her black hair was pulled back again, which he didn’t like, but plenty of curls had already wiggled free.

“Why are you staring at Aurelie, Nick?” Sarah said, jarring him. She rushed on and when she bent her head back, Aurelie knew she was watching their old trick to hide tears. Sarah looked at them again. “You two have turned into the Bobbsey Twins. ‘Wherever you go, I go.’ Isn’t that the way the song goes?”

No one answered.

Sarah pointed. “You look guilty, Rellie. Is this meeting about you? What have you done—apart from getting your face messed up?”

Aurelie said, “No, it’s not about me,” and picked up a book on New Orleans’s monuments.

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