The Pelican Bride by Beth White

Author:Beth White [White, Beth]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: FIC042030, FIC042040, FIC027050, Mail order brides—Fiction, Huguenots—Fiction, French—United States—Fiction, French Canadians—United States—Fiction, Fort Charlotte (Mobile [Ala.])—Fiction, Mobile (Ala.)—History—Fiction
ISBN: 9781441245472
Publisher: Baker Publishing Group
Published: 2014-03-04T16:00:00+00:00

In all her short life, Aimée had rarely seen such a pigsty as Commander Bienville’s office. During the dinner she and Geneviève had attended a month ago, she had been able to inspect only the commander’s public rooms, and they had been neat and well cared for—due in large part, no doubt, to the work of his Indian servant women. Geneviève seemed to think those women were more than housekeepers and cooks, but then her sister tended to cynicism. Aimée preferred to think the best of people until proven otherwise.

But if the state of his office was anything to judge by, Bienville seemed to live rather a double life. There were papers and parchments everywhere. Maps, letters, bills of lading, receipts—those were the things she could see—and who knew what else was in the towering stack teetering on the edge of that gigantic teak desk. She saw a blowgun decorated with colorful feathers leaning against the wall in a corner, next to a long saber-ended musket and an oddly shaped piece of stiff hide, which she assumed was a shield of some sort. A pair of large muddy boots had been tossed into another corner, along with a shapeless tricorn hat. On the floor next to the desk was a wooden tray containing a decanter of some thick brown liquid, an empty tankard, and the smelly half-eaten carcass of a roasted hare.

The mess seemed not to bother Bienville, for he shoved a pile of ledgers out of his chair onto the floor and sat down, propping his elbows upon the leather journal in front of him. He was in uniform as usual, but his neck cloth was rumpled and loosely tied, and he needed a shave. Dark circles ringed his fine black eyes, and pain pinched his eyebrows together over that magnificent nose. Still, he was a handsome rascal. Aimée couldn’t help thinking of the exotic tattoos she’d once seen etched upon his broad dark back and densely muscled arms. It was too bad he was such an uncivilized lout.

After fat Father Henri took the only other chair in the room, the remaining company—Aimée, Françoise, Ysabeau, Jeanne, and her husband, La Salle—arranged themselves awkwardly about the office, waiting to be told what to do. Aimée stayed close to Ysabeau, both to make sure the impromptu cloak stayed about her shoulders and to keep the girl out of Father Henri’s line of vision. The man frankly made her skin crawl.

Before Bienville could so much as open his mouth, Father Henri and La Salle spoke simultaneously.

“Commander, you should know—”

“Commander, it is my opinion—”

The two men looked at one another indignantly as Bienville held up a large, elegantly manicured hand. “Gentlemen, this is my meeting, and I will ask the questions.” He looked at Françoise, who stood, shoulders back and spine straight, close to the door. “Mademoiselle, I grow weary of your charges cutting up my peace. What have you to say about this latest scandal?” He frowned at Ysabeau, who sat studying her fingers tented in front of her nose.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.