The Scandalous Miss Howard Page 25

  “I do admit it. And I admit that I would do it all over again. As far as I’m concerned, Jimmy got off lightly. He could have spent the rest of his life in a prison dungeon.”

  Her head beginning to throb from the shock and the hurt, Laurette stated sadly, “You took care of Jimmy and then it was time to take care of me. The wealthy, urbane, mysterious stranger who I just happened to meet at Colonel Ivy’s party. It was all thoroughly planned, wasn’t it? You came back to punish me.”

  “Laurette, I was—”

  “And what better way to punish me than to make me fall madly in love with you. And then to cruelly abandon me. That was your intention, wasn’t it?” He gave no reply. She shouted, “Wasn’t it!”

  He sadly shook his head, admitting his plan. Then he asked again for her forgiveness, swearing that he loved her and wanted to marry her. Desperate, he reached out and clasped her wrist.

  “Let me go,” she said.

  “Laurette, please listen. I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you and—”

  “Let me go,” she said again.

  He released her.

  She looked at him with naked hatred flashing in the depths of her dark eyes and said, “You let me believe that you were dead. Well, now you are dead to me, Dasheroon. I never want to see you again! I hate you more than I ever loved you and I will hate you to the grave and beyond!”

  With that, Laurette turned, hurried down the front steps and raced across the sand to the levee. It was almost nine and the yacht was to return to the island at nine o’clock to pick them up. Ladd remained on the veranda, knowing she was far too angry and upset to listen to him right now. Hopefully, she would change her mind in time.

  When the sleek white craft came alongside the dock, Ladd stepped off the porch, crossed the beach and made his way to the levee.

  “No!” Laurette warned Ladd as Bones took her hand to guide her up onto the yacht’s teak deck. “You are not coming, do you understand me? I want you out of my sight now and forever!”

  Stunned, Bones gave Ladd a questioning look. “It’s okay,” Ladd said. “I’ll spend another night on the island. You can come for me tomorrow.”

  Bones nodded as Laurette anxiously disappeared below deck. The yacht pulled away from the levee. Hands in his trouser pockets, wide shoulders slumped in despair, Ladd stood on the sandy beach and watched until the yacht was swallowed up in the darkness. He turned and walked slowly back up to the beach house, the darkness seeming to envelop his aching heart.

  Aboard the yacht, Bones stood at the railing, his face somber. There was a deep feeling of sadness in his heart for Laurette. And a strong feeling of animosity toward the man responsible for her unhappiness.

  Bones supposed that Ladd had chosen this hot summer evening to tell Laurette he was done with her. Tired of her. Didn’t care to see her again. Bones’s firm jaw tightened with outrage. He knew the next part of the plan. Ladd would, within days, marry a beautiful young belle whom he could parade about Mobile so that the cruelly jilted Laurette would suffer even more than she was suffering now.

  The big man felt his eyes burn with tears. He loved Ladd like a brother, but what Ladd had done to Laurette was inhuman. This sweet woman whose heart Ladd had purposely broken didn’t deserve such dreadful treatment. Bones raised a hand, rubbed his face and blinked away his tears.

  When the yacht reached the port of Mobile, Bones called out to Laurette. “We’re home, Mrs. Tigart.”

  Laurette came topside and Bones immediately saw that she had been weeping. Her eyes were puffy and red. It broke his heart to see her so unhappy. He wished there was something that he could say or do to comfort her, but he knew that there wasn’t.

  When Laurette started down the gangway, Bones followed close behind. “Mrs. Tigart, this old Mobile wharf is full of splinters,” he said. “I’m afraid you might—” She looked down at her bare feet in half-surprise, forgetting that she had left in such a hurry that she hadn’t bothered with her shoes. He said gently, “If you’ll allow me, I’ll carry you to the waiting carriage.”

  She nodded and the gentle giant lifted her up into his arms as easily as if she were a little girl. He crossed the wide wharf, climbed the steps up the riverbank, handed her into the waiting carriage and closed the door.

  When the brougham rolled to a stop before her residence, Bones hurried to her aid, saying he’d be honored to carry her up to the house. Weary as she’d never been in her life, Laurette agreed.

  When Bones opened her front door and lowered her bare feet to the foyer floor, it was dark inside. “You stay right here,” he instructed, “I’ll light a lamp.”

  “Thank you,” she said and leaned weakly against the wall.

  A lamp soon flickered on in the drawing room and Bones returned to the foyer to say good-night. But before he left, the tenderhearted man couldn’t help but ask, “Is there anything I can do?”

  “No, but thank you, Bones. You’re a kind, good man.” She smiled sadly and added, “There are very few of you left in this world.”

  Thirty-Seven

  Laurette paced the confines of her bedroom through the long and sleepless night. Again and again she went over everything that had happened, recalled everything that Ladd had said and done. And she realized with growing fury that his foremost intention had been to break her heart and make a fool of her.

  It was impossible to believe that the sweet, loving boy she had known and loved as a child had become this cold, devious seducer who had made of her his willing wanton. She cringed at the recollection of how she had behaved with him, freely and eagerly giving herself to him, body and soul. She’d been his to do with as he pleased. It was inconceivable to her that the incredible ecstasy they had shared involved only his body, never his heart.

  Laurette stopped pacing.

  She climbed up into the windowsill the way she’d done as a girl. She sat hugging her gowned knees, gazing out at the twinkling lights of the city and the bay beyond. Out there in the Gulf was a private island where she had spent the happiest moments of her life.

  A sense of terrible emptiness struck her, a deep despair that was like a physical pain.

  God, how she loved him. God, how she hated him!

  On that private island out in the Gulf, Ladd restlessly paced the veranda through a long and sleepless night. Again and again he went over everything that had happened, everything she had said and done. And he realized with a growing sense of despair that she would never forgive him. Should never forgive him.

  There was no excuse for what he had done, no justification for hurting her so badly. He wished he had never come back to Mobile, wished he had left her alone.

  Ladd shuddered at the recollection of her eager lovemaking and of the times she had lain totally open to him, offering him not only her lovely body, but her very soul as well. What incredible ecstasy they had shared, a kind of rare, sweet bliss that had totally possessed his heart as well as his body.

  Ladd stopped pacing.

  He climbed into the canvas hammock and folded an arm beneath his head. He gazed out over the waters toward the lights of Mobile. On Dauphin Street in the heart of the city was a big white house. Inside that mansion was the woman who had given him the happiest moments of his life.

  Ladd’s bare stomach contracted sharply. He felt as if he were going to suffocate. A sense of terrible emptiness struck him, a deep despair that was like a physical pain.

  God, how he loved her. God, how she must hate him.

  At midmorning the next day, Bones returned to the island with the yacht’s crew to pick up Ladd. Bones went up to the house to get him. Ladd was on the veranda, lying in the hammock. He was wide-awake, but he looked like he hadn’t slept all night. Bones had no sympathy for him. In fact, it was all he could do to keep from yanking Ladd up out of the hammock and throwing a well-aimed right cross at his jaw.

  Ladd rose wearily and followed Bones down the front steps. The two men headed across the beach toward the dock. Neith
er had said a word.

  Finally, a few yards from the dock, Bones stopped, and, biting out the words, said, “So you told her last night you were through with her.” It was not a question, but a statement.

  “You have it wrong,” the careworn Ladd corrected. “She told me.”

  Bones made a face. “What do you mean, she told you?”

  Ladd shrugged, gave the big man a sad, self-deprecating smile and said, “Looks like the last laugh is on me and I’m the one who gets a dose of well-deserved justice.” He hung his head, kicked at the sand with a bare toe. “I fell in love with her all over again, so I decided to come clean, to tell her the truth, the whole truth.”

  His eyes widening, Bones said, “You mean, you admitted you’re Ladd Dasheroon.”

  “I did,” said Ladd, raising his head and looking Bones squarely in the eyes, “and because I did, I have lost her for good.”

  “No,” said Bones, “don’t say that. You don’t know that. You have to go to her immediately, make her understand.”

  “Understand what?” was Ladd’s reply. “That I am a heartless bastard who came back here for the sole purpose of making her pay? She knows that. Laurette’s a very clever woman. She figured out the reason for the pretense, realized that I planned to seduce and abandon her.”

  “But—but you admitted the truth, that should stand for something,” Bones said hopefully.

  “My friend, I intend to do everything in my power to get her back,” said Ladd. “But I know her well. She’s stubborn and prideful and I’m sure she would like nothing better than to get even with me. And who can blame her?”

  “Not me,” Bones said truthfully.

  “Nor me,” said Ladd, tiredly. “She will hate me forever for what I’ve done. I deserve it, but God, how I wish I could change everything.”

  “Well, you can’t, but maybe you can repair the damage. She’s a fine lady and she loves you.”

  “No, she loved me, past tense.”

  “She loved you twice—the young Ladd Dasheroon and the mature Sutton Vane.” Ladd nodded sadly. “You can’t convince me that she loved you yesterday and that she no longer loves you today,” continued Bones. “She’s hurt and confused and angry, but surely she still loves you.”

  “I hope you’re right.”

  Ladd swallowed any pretense of pride.

  He loved Laurette, he wanted her back and he was bent on doing everything in his power to persuade her to forgive him.

  After an interminable day of waiting and wondering, a tired, anxious Ladd, who had finally shaved, bathed and put on fresh clothes, climbed into the brougham for the short ride to the Veteran’s Convalescent Hospital.

  As nervous as a young, insecure boy, Ladd waited for Laurette to walk out the front doors and come down the hospital steps. He kept watching, looking for her, but didn’t see her. He was early, he told himself. It was still several minutes to two o’clock. She got off duty at two.

  Feeling the perspiration bead in his hairline and above his lip, he kept reaching into his waistcoat pocket, fishing out the gold-cased watch, flipping it open and checking the time. He repeated the exercise at least a dozen times, until finally the watch read two-fifteen. Where was she? She usually skipped down the front steps at a minute after two. What was keeping her?

  No longer able to sit still, Ladd opened the coach’s door and climbed out. He stood in the broiling July sun, leaning against the brougham, arms folded over his chest, one well-shod foot nervously tapping the cobblestone street. Doctors and nurses, one at a time, or two or three together, had been exiting the big hospital since straight up two.

  Laurette was not among them.

  At two-thirty Ladd could stand it no longer. He pushed away from the carriage, hurried toward the hospital’s steep steps and quickly ascended them. Inside, he stopped the first person he saw, a tall, stout nurse with a stiff white cap on her head.

  “Excuse me,” he said with a smile, “Would you happen to know Laurette Tigart?”

  “Sure, I know Laurette,” said woman. “She didn’t come in today. Sent word that she was ill and—”

  Before she finished the sentence, Ladd turned and hurried back toward the entrance. He rushed down the hospital steps, shrugging out of his hot coat as he went. Instructing his driver to take him to the Dauphin Street mansion, he swung up inside and closed the door.

  At the mansion, he ran up the front walk, climbed the veranda steps and, standing before the closed door, took a deep breath and ordered his heart to stop racing. It didn’t listen. He knocked firmly on the door. He waited patiently. At last the door opened and Laurette, looking pale and wan, stood in the portal.

  “Laurette, I—” he began, but she cut him off.

  “I thought I made it clear. I never want to see you again.” She closed the door in his face.

  He banged on it and pleaded, “Just give me five minutes. Please don’t let it end like this, Lollie. For God’s sake, give me a chance. Remember all we’ve been to each other.”

  Desperate, he banged on the door again. It remained closed to him, just as Laurette’s heart remained closed to him. She had already gone back upstairs.

  In the following days and weeks, Ladd didn’t give up. Each day he came to the hospital to wait for her, to beg for her forgiveness. He never got the chance. She pointedly ignored him, refused to listen or to talk to him. Each day Ladd had three dozen white roses delivered to her home with a note that read, “I’ll never stop loving you. Forgive me.”

  But Laurette, who had been hurt enough in her life, had successfully hardened her heart. She no longer cared if he loved her or not. It was of no importance to her. She never read the notes that came with the roses. She threw the roses in the trash the minute they arrived.

  She had told Ladd that he was now dead to her and she intended to make it so. She didn’t care about him. She didn’t care about anything. She was aware that the entire city had learned of their breakup, but she was not bothered by the whispering and the looks she drew when she was forced to go out in public. So she was the topic of gossip? Well, it wasn’t the first time and it made no difference to her. Nothing made any difference to her. She confided in no one, not even her best friends, the Parlange twins. They, like the rest of the gentry, were left to wonder and speculate.

  Laurette had convinced herself that she was now incapable of feeling anything. She performed her duties at the hospital just as always, but she was no longer deeply concerned when she came upon a seriously sick patient who needed a cool hand on his brow. She refused to get involved, to allow her patient’s misery to touch her anesthetized heart.

  Alone for so many years, Ladd, like Laurette, confided in no one.

  But unlike Laurette’s, his own heart was very much alive and capable of feeling. Indeed it ached persistently. His hope of winning Laurette back was growing dim and with the passing of each long, lonely night, he grew more morose. He rarely bothered going up to his bedroom at night. He knew he wouldn’t sleep, so why bother? He sat in his office in the quiet early-morning hours, drinking whiskey straight and cursing himself for what he had done.

  He, too, knew that the city was gossiping about Laurette and him, although no one else knew his true identity, only that the affair had ended. He didn’t care about his own reputation. But he did worry that Laurette was being hurt by the meddling and slander. By the scandal he had brought down on her head.

  Bones was worried about Ladd. Although he had soundly disapproved of Ladd’s treatment of Laurette, he was now concerned for Ladd’s welfare. Ladd had never had much of an appetite due to the long years in prison when he’d been starved. But lately he often refused to eat at all. An entire day would pass without Ladd ever lifting a fork or taking a bite of food. The only thing he lifted was a shot glass of bourbon.

  One warm September night as Ladd sat drinking alone, Bones came into the study. He tried to talk to Ladd. But his attempt was shut off with a dark look and a wave of Ladd’s hand.

 
“Get the hell out of here and go to bed!” Ladd said, slurring his words.

  “I was going to suggest the same thing to you,” said Bones.

  “You’ve suggested it, now go. Leave me.”

  “Look, Ladd, I know it’s none of my business, but—”

  “You’re absolutely right,” said Ladd. He took a long swing of whiskey, wiped his mouth on the back of his hand and added, “It is none of your business.”

  Bones pressed on. “Drinking is not going to get her back, boss.”

  “I know that,” said Ladd sadly. “Nothing is going to get her back. I’ve lost her for good, Bones.”

  Thirty-Eight

  The summer of ’81 finally ended and a cool, crisp autumn arrived in Mobile. With the change of seasons, the leaves began to fade and then fall to the ground. The sun seemed to come from a different direction and it no longer burned quite as brightly. The nights had grown decidedly chilly.

  But not as chilly as Laurette Howard Tigart.

  She remained inflexible.

  She staunchly refused to have anything to do with Ladd Dasheroon. After weeks of doing everything he could think of to gain her forgiveness, Ladd finally gave up. He would no longer try to win her back. It was not going to happen. He knew Laurette too well. And, if he couldn’t have her, he didn’t want to live in Alabama. He’d go to New York, or perhaps London or Paris. It made no difference to him.

  When he mentioned leaving to Bones one cold, clear November night, Bones said calmly, “Not a bad idea. Give me a few weeks to wind things up here.”

  “Sure,” said Ladd. “No hurry.”

  Upon learning that Ladd planned to leave Mobile, Bones allowed no more moss to grow under his feet. After that evening when Ladd casually mentioned moving, Bones was out of the house a great deal. Which was not like him. Ladd was mildly curious, but not curious enough to ask Bones where he spent his time.