Chapter 9
It was amazing what the sight of beautiful women could do for two men with an unhappy weight on their shoulders. Michael opened the door to the gentlemen's club for the Barkley men, with a smile but no words, and just inside, in the lobby, he introduced them to two of the most stunning women Nick and Jarrod had ever seen. Both dark-haired and dark-eyed, both dressed in gorgeous white gowns and wearing white gloves. Michael said, "Gentlemen, may I present Caroline Purcell and Louisa de la Court. Ladies, the brothers Barkley, Jarrod and Nick."
Jarrod immediately took Louisa's hand and kissed it, every concern in his head flying away. "Miss de la Court, you must be the most beautiful woman I've ever seen."
She smiled. "That's a very nice start to the evening, Mr. Barkley."
"Jarrod," he said, and was grateful he didn't have to say Jack Darby.
"Louisa," she said.
Nick, meanwhile, was kissing Caroline's hand. "What is that intriguing scent you're wearing?" he asked.
She smiled. "A lady has her secrets, Mr. Barkley."
"Nick," he said.
"Caroline," she said.
Jarrod slipped Michael two large bills to cover his expenses and fees. "Ladies," Jarrod said, "we have reservations around the corner at the Galant, and then dancing at the ballroom at the Hotel Orleans."
"Delightful," Louisa said.
And that wonderful start to the evening continued. At the restaurant, they ate and drank and talked. The women were well versed in Shakespeare and Victor Hugo, and remarkably, they could hold their own with Nick when discussing rice and gold markets. "Women love gold," Caroline reminded him when Nick looked surprised they knew as much as they did.
Which made Nick almost blush.
After dinner, they walked slowly toward the Hotel Orleans, the men taking their lady's arm and making sure they were on the curb side of the sidewalk to take any splashes from passing vehicles. It had rained earlier, but not as badly as it usually did on a New Orleans afternoon.
Jarrod had explained over dinner that he was an attorney in town on business and brought his brother along for a bit of a vacation. As he walked with Louisa, she asked him what kind of law he practiced. "Oh, a little of this and a little of that," he said.
"Commercial?" she asked. "I would assume you handle your family's commercial legal interests."
Her interest piqued Jarrod's. "Yes, I do, but I also have private practices in Stockton and in San Francisco, so I actually do a little of this and a little of that."
"My father was a lawyer here in town, and I have to admit, while I was not supposed to bother my little head about legal matters, I did pick up a few things from him."
"Ah, well," Jarrod said, "the law here in Louisiana is quite different from the law in the rest of the country, being based on French law and not English. I'm not able to represent clients who live here, and I was only able to handle the work I came here to do because I'd done it before for my client, in California. I've picked up enough knowledge of contract law here in New Orleans to do what I needed to do. But what exactly is it about the law that intrigued a young lady like yourself?"
"The words, actually," Louisa said. "Mostly French and Latin, of course, but not the words I was learning from my tutors. I've always had a love of language."
"You speak French, then."
"And Spanish, and I can read Latin and Greek. I've been raised to be a proper New Orleans lady."
Jarrod wondered how she ended up being a professional escort, if she had been raised to be a proper lady, but he was far too polite to ask, and Louisa did not volunteer. Instead of becoming too nosy, Jarrod simply switched the conversation to lighter subjects and spoke in Spanish, admitting he was rusty at it but was taking advantage of the opportunity. They talked some more about Hugo and Shakespeare as they walked along.
Behind them, Nick and Caroline were being far more commercial in their conversation. It turned out Caroline was an avid student of the local stock exchange, which surprised Nick. "Do they even let a lady on the floor?" he asked.
"No," she admitted, "but I have a brother who is my partner in crime. He is a broker, and he is very patient with my questions."
"Are your parents still living?" Nick asked.
"No, they died quite a while ago," Caroline said. "My brother is a dozen years older than I am, and he raised me, saw to my education. He knows what I do for a living."
Nick wondered if he also knew what she didn't do for a living, but like Jarrod he was too polite to get into that subject. These were not prostitutes they were escorting. They were company and dancing partners, no more, and they all knew it. "I suppose being a businessman's company on an evening like this has given you even more business acumen, hasn't it?" And he privately prided himself on using a ten dollar word like "acumen."
"It has," Caroline said. "That's one reason I do it. I've done very well with my continuing education, and with my investments."
Nick didn't approach the subject of insider information, either. Instead he shifted it to, "The gold markets. Have you speculated there too?"
Caroline nodded. "I've done pretty well there too."
"A lady after my own heart," Nick admitted.
"Tell me more about the gold markets in California," Caroline said. "Your family is in gold?"
"Indeed we are," Nick said. "We own or have partnerships in several mines."
Caroline drew closer. "Intriguing. Tell me some secrets about how I can be a better investor in gold – nothing illegal, mind you."
Nick smiled. He liked this lady.
It wasn't long before they arrived on the dance floor at the Hotel Orleans. The ballroom was big and comfortably crowded. The orchestra was lush, the women were beautifully dressed, the men gallant and everyone awfully good at dancing. But then the Barkley men knew they were good at it, too, and it wasn't long before they were dancing the night away.
Nick especially enjoyed being closer to that heady scent that Caroline was wearing. It wasn't long before he was wondering if he should seek out her company the next night, too, but he didn't want to approach that subject without talking to Jarrod about it. The music started to go to Nick's head, surprising him, because even though he enjoyed a dance as much as the next man, this experience here – the fine clothes, the rich orchestra, the elegance and the remarkable beauty and intelligence of the woman in his arms – was making him feel even higher than the champagne at dinner had. I could get used to this life, he thought to himself. I could get used to this town.
At one point he and Caroline took a break and sat down to enjoy some punch and conversation, and Nick asked, "Have you ever been to California?"
"No, never," Caroline said.
"You should come sometime."
"Oh, Nick, I'm a city girl," she said, "and my city is New Orleans."
"We have San Francisco."
"And I've heard a lot about it," Caroline said, "but New Orleans is unique. I've been to Paris, and I've been to New York, and I find that New Orleans is a perfect mixture of both. I doubt that San Francisco can compare."
"How will you know until you visit?"
Caroline laughed. "If that's an invitation, Mr. Barkley, I'm afraid I'll have to turn it down. Please don't confuse a business transaction with a genuine social interaction."
Nick felt embarrassed, but just a little. "Well, I realize what we have this evening is all business, and if that sounded like an invitation, I'll withdraw it. But if you ever do decide to come out our way, I'd be happy to show you a gold mine or two."
Caroline's eyes twinkled. "Now, that's an invitation I might have to take you up on someday."
Still dancing, Jarrod and Louisa caught a glimpse of Nick and Caroline sitting together, drinking and laughing. "Your brother is quite the ladies' man," Louisa said.
Jarrod smiled. "He tries to be. Sometimes he's pretty awkward about it."
"It doesn't look like tonight is one of those nights," Louisa said.
Jarrod gave Nick and Caroline another look. "My brother enjoys a good time, and he knows how to make one happen."
Jarrod and Louisa looked at each other again. "And you," Caroline said. "You're quite different from your brother."
"In some ways," Jarrod said. "I tend to prefer literature and he tends to prefer a good poker game."
"But you're not adverse to a little gambling either."
"No. Not at all."
"And that bruise on your cheek didn't come from Shakespeare."
Jarrod smiled. "No, it didn't."
"You know," Caroline said after looking very closely into Jarrod's blue eyes, "I'm very certain I've seen you before tonight."
Jarrod felt his neck crawl. He didn't know how to respond to that, because he was certain as soon as she said it that she was talking about Jack Darby. "I've been to New Orleans before," he said. "Perhaps you saw me on the street. I'm told I have a memorable face."
Louisa laughed. "Relax, Jarrod. I know you're not Jack Darby, but you certainly look and sound like him."
Jarrod was half glad she had opened that door. He nodded. "My cousin," Jarrod said. "We only met a couple years ago, in California. We do bear a remarkable resemblance to one another, but temperamentally, we are nothing alike."
"So I'm beginning to gather," Louisa said.
"You've spent some time with my cousin?"
Louisa nodded, saying, "Mm-hmm," in such a way that Jarrod immediately got suspicious – and nervous. What had Darby done to this lovely young lady?
"Did you want to tell me about it?" Jarrod asked.
Louisa shook her head. "Uhn-uh," she said, and her eyes twinkled. She had just brought Darby up to tease Jarrod.
Jarrod knew it. "Good," he said, and pulled her closer.