Where My Love Lies Dreaming by Christopher Hawthorne Moss

Author:Christopher Hawthorne, Moss
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub, pdf
Publisher: Dreamspinner Press
Published: 2013-07-29T16:00:00+00:00

Part III

Dissolution

Chapter 16

New Orleans, February 13, 1861

FRANKIE made his way through the litter-strewn streets of New Orleans to Michael’s rooms. It would be a day or two before city crews cleared up the leavings of a particularly frantic Mardi Gras. After all, the street cleaners had to sleep off the revels too.

This year, the threat of war had made people afraid. When people were afraid, they tried even harder to distract themselves. What better to distract one than drinking and whoring and probably more sinister activities? Or they were full of frenetic energy—waiting for the… whatever that was coming: glory, violence—and impatient to begin.

Frankie was still in parts of his Roman costume. He had set aside the helmet and the breastplate and pulled trousers up under the skirt of the tunic, a fact that made Michael laugh when Frankie came through the door and found Michael sitting in a dressing gown in his chair.

He cut off his laughter when he saw Frankie’s face. “What’s wrong, Frankie? Where’s Johnny?”

“How the hell should I know?” Frankie snapped as he flung his cloak over a chair and then sat.

“I’m fine, thank you,” Michael said ironically. “What do you mean, how the hell should you know? What happened?” When Frankie did not answer, he said, “Oh Christ, Mam’selle Marie’s ball. I had a very bad feeling about that.”

Frankie shot him a furious glance. “Then why didn’t you say something? No, don’t answer that. I think you did me a favor. Now I know how joyless the bastard is. Besides, he’ll be back when he runs out of money.”

Michael’s voice was sharp and angry. “Now that’s unfair, Frankie, and you know it. The last thing Johnny is, is mercenary.” He frowned at Frankie’s snort. “What do you mean, he’ll be back? He’s gone? Why?”

“He made a big scene at the ball. Really showed his true colors. I’m not sure I will ever live it down.”

“You will never live it down?” Michael gaped at him.

Frankie squirmed under his astonishment. “Well, at first Marie and all were all pats on the back and little blown kisses and sympathy, but you know how those cats can be. Out came the claws, and more than one caught me by mistake as they shredded him.”

Michael looked thoughtful. “So everyone was there? That must have been too much of a revelation for our Johnny.”

Something in Frankie’s chest caught for a moment at our Johnny. “Well, all his things are still in either the hotel room or the staterooms. Though, so was the costume. I can’t imagine he is wandering the streets of the French Quarter in the nude.”

“Might he be at the Albrights’?”

“I’m going there next.” At Michael’s raised eyebrow, Frankie shot, “Well I can hardly let the man lie dead in some gutter, can I?”

Belatedly, Frankie looked at Michael with concern. “How are you feeling this morning?”

“Sore. Dominique came by earlier and checked my, um, wounds, much to my great chagrin. She says the tearing is mostly external and that if I stay on a liquid diet I should heal fine.

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