"Mardi Gras Misunderstanding"
Disclaimer: No ownership, no profit...just love and nostalgia for these wonderful characters.
Chapter One
Kitty turned in the warm circle of his strong arms, her own slender arms reaching around his neck as he pressed his hand into the small of her back and drew her close against him. Their shadows played on the creamy yellow walls of the lamp lit parlor, casting a warm image and surely bringing a smile to the lips of anyone passing by on this steamy, sultry evening.
"You are so beautiful," he whispered, his breath coming quicker, heavier as he spoke into the thick auburn curls. His hands, strong, competent and gentle, much like the man himself, moved slowly across her silk-clad back.
Kitty leaned momentarily into his embrace and then drew back. "Please…stop…I, I…can't do this. I thought I could…thought I was ready, but…I, I'm not. I can't. I…I'm sorry. I didn't't mean to lead you on. I just…"
"It's all right, Kitty; it's all right." John Chapman groaned, but his slow, soft cadence fell on her ears as gently as the kiss he pressed against her brow.
"I'm so embarrassed, John, and so sorry. I just…oh, I don't know."
"I think you do know, Kitty. I think we both know."
Lifting her incredible sapphire eyes to his face, she smiled sadly and nodded.
He hugged her close. "I'll see you tomorrow night," he said, as he let himself out of the house and into the torrential rain that had descended upon the French Quarter.
If she had walked him to the door, she might have noticed the lone figure leaving the shelter of the building across the rain slick street and limping away into the teeming downpour.
The late night fog, the soft glow from the street lamps, the filmy filter of the lace curtains all combined to cast a dreamlike quality on the little tableau taking place in the parlor of the tiny house on St. Ann Street. But for the big man watching intently from the darkened doorway across the street, it wasn't a dream. It was his worst nightmare.
Black slicker flapping in the wind, he let out an uncharacteristic curse, sighed deeply and turned away. Had he waited another minute, he would have seen the door across the street open. He would have seen the costumed man leave the house and motion to the carriage driver on the corner. And he would have known that the beautiful lady of the house went to bed alone.
Moving as quickly as the ever-present pain in his right leg would allow, he made his way toward the train station. Sweating in the humid night, and straining to see through the fog and rain, he finally could discern the outline of the flat-roofed building that served as the depot. With his mind focused on the scene he had just witnessed, and intent on reaching the station in time to catch the next train west, he never noticed the five young thugs closing in on him.