Evangeline sat down to breakfast in the large dinning room reading the paper while the servants buzzed about serving her croissants and jam, freshly picked
fruits, and eggs. She could hear them whispering in their French patois,
oblivious to the fact she understood them all perfectly. They wondered who she was, where she came from. They commented on her stylish clothes and jewelry. She almost revealed herself when one of them mentioned a strange scream early this morning. With grace, she merely
smiled behind her tea cup enjoying the secret joke.
However, the smile quickly vanished when she heard the click of boots entering the salon. Without having to look back she knew it was Aristotle. She could feel him, smell him; apparently a side effect of their powerful lovemaking this morning. He made his way to the breakfast bar to retrieve his food. Once he'd made his selections he adjourned to the chair opposite Evangeline, who merely continued to read the paper.
Silence flowed between them, but there was a definite sexual tension growing in the room. Aristotle watched her from the corner of his eyes. She looked ravishing in a simple lilac lace gown. The plunge of the neckline barely revealed her delectable breasts. Her skin was like fresh caramel from the melting pot, rich, blooming. The hint of her perfume filled his nostrils making him hunger more for her lips than the tasty mango on his plate. By all appearances, she didn't seem effected by his presence. In fact, she was engrossed in some article, which sparked his annoyance. He was the one who should be acting aloof, yet Evangeline had beaten him to it. What was worse was he wasn't sure if it was feigned interest as a distraction or not. He hadn't realized he was now fulling scrutinizing the beauty until he heard her chuckle.
"I assume your parents instilled in you the lesson about staring at guests."
Aristotle flushed at being caught. Straightening up, he returned to his meal. Her eyes never left the paper yet she knew he watched her.
"Something of gross interest, Madame Montiero?" he asked taking a bite of his fruit.
"Just reading the trades, Monsieur Beauvois," she replied.
Her answer piqued his interest. "Trades?"
"And the politics," she added setting the paper aside to acknowledge him. "If a city or country has started gaining good economic growth and trade I tend to try to get in on the ground level. Establish partnerships before they are so inundated with others."
Another facet of her that intrigued him: her business sense. While Arnoldo had been held as an unwilling guest, he had grumbled that Evangeline's keen eye for business was nothing more than luck. He had griped how she had refused to get into a venture with him because his plan had flaws in it. He had repeated the plan to Aristotle and he even saw the flaws and agreed with the woman before he'd even met her. Now, he was certain that Evangeline had more than luck guiding her business sense. Aristotle was actually interested in her picking her thoughts. They spent the rest of the morning discussing the trades, merchant partnerships, and the like; exchanging tips and ideas. It had been thrilling and her conversation had been edge with humor and intelligence. They had been so engrossed in their discussions they hadn't seen Jacques enter.
"Capitaine Monroe is here to see you," he announced breaking up their revelry.
Aristotle nodded to the valet, rising. He reached for Evangeline's hand. "I wish to discuss this further, Evangeline."
"It would be my pleasure," she smiled. "I'm sure Jacques will not mind giving me a tour of the grounds."
Jacques raised his brow at Aristotle who merely chuckled and nodded his consent. With that he was gone.
"And here we have the main gardens, which were put in new last year."
Evangeline studied the gardens and the richness of the floral arrangements. It definitely had a woman's touch to it. "I take it Aristotle had a lot of help with the arrangements."
"His sister had helped with some of the floral styling, but you are very astute, Madame Montiero. Monsieur Beauvois did garner other feminine opinions to decorate the garden."
"How long has he lived here, Jacques?"
"Monsieur has lived here for maybe seven years. He had grown tired of sailing, so had relinquished the captaincy of his ship to his good friend, Jean Monroe. He had purchased the property some twelve years ago from a financial boon he acquired. Before then he had been living on his ship like a -"
"A swashbuckling pirate," she teased, making the man flush.
"Actually more like a gun runner," he corrected. "He had been running artillery up to the States and throughout Mexico. However, the business got to be too much for him. He decided to take on trading and import and exports. He became very good at it and his wealth grew with less danger to his life."
Evangeline nodded. She was about to inquire more about Aristotle when the squeal of a child caught her ear. She turned at the sound and saw the most adorable little boy come running toward them. He favored, Aristotle a bit with his rich coloring and long hair clubbed behind his head. Something inside Evangeline stilled and her gut wrenched a little. The ache would bother her from time to time, but she usually did a fine job of quelling it. She actually loved children and would often find time to visit the orphanages in her town since they had tried to help her brothers and herself. With a stepfather like Arnoldo, one had to depend on the kindness of strangers sometime.
"Jean-Pierre, what is the meaning of this?" the valet scolded.
"You said you would play with me, Jacques," the boy scolded back.
"I am escorting, Madame Montiero, about the grounds, maybe afterwards. Maybe."
The boy glanced up with great interest at Evangeline. He was in awe of her, which actually made her blush. "Wow, she's pretty."
"You and your uncle apparently have the same tastes," Jacques murmured under his breath, forgetting Evangeline was in earshot.
"Uncle?"
"Ah, yes, this little scamp is the nephew of Monsieur Beauvois," Jacques explained. "His sister, Madeline's son. Before she left on a tour of Europe, she left the boy here in his uncle's care."
"More like your care, Jacques."
"Yes," he replied drolly. "Now, Jean-Pierre, do not be a bother. I will see you after."
The boy pouted at being sent away, which pulled at Evangeline. "Why doesn't he accompany us? I'm sure Jean-Pierre has an opinion of what are the interesting places on the grounds."
The boy perked up at the invitation and quickly took Evangeline's hand. "I'll show you all the neat things in the villa."
Jacques sighed wearily as he trailed behind them.
Two hours later and a thorough tour of the grounds, Evangeline and Jean-Pierre plopped down on the loveseat exhausted. Jacques was fanning himself by the door. They had climbed as high up as the villa would go all the way to the basement, then to the far reaches of the gardens to the stables. Evangeline had seen it all and all through the eyes of little Jean-Pierre, who had relished the idea of being tour guide. She had laughed and enjoyed herself immensely.
"Where should we go next?" Jean-Pierre squealed merrily.
"You, young man, will require a nap," Jacques stated firmly. "I'm sure your nanny has been spying about for you."
Jean-Pierre pouted stubbornly, but knew he couldn't push his luck too far since he had gotten away with so much. He slid off the couch, but not before giving Evangeline a big hug.
"Merci, Madame Evangeline. I had so much fun with you," he thanked before scooting out the door.
Evangeline actually smiled. "He's a lovable tike."
"More like a scamp," Jacques corrected. "He's constantly underfoot."
Evangeline ignored the gruffness in his tone, knowing full well he loved the tour as much as she did. "But he keeps you healthy."
Jacques snorted changing subjects. "Madame, the noon hour will be fast approaching, would you like anything in particular for lunch?"
"That won't be necessary, Jacques. I will be escorting Madame Evangeline to the city for lunch." Aristotle had entered unnoticed from the side door, where he had watched Evangeline and Jean-Pierre. The boy was usually never friendly with strangers and kept to himself, except when he hassled Jacques. Seeing their interaction had given Evangeline a new light, something he hadn't thought she was capable of. Compassion.
"Very good, Monsieur. Adieu, Madame, until the evening hour." With that Jacques disappeared.
Evangeline gazed over at Aristotle. Her eyes still twinkled with merriment, making their golden hue hightened. During his meeting with Jean, he had drifted several times from the conversation because of those very eyes. Then, he had noticed her traipsing through the garden with his nephew dragging her along. She looked so carefree and happy, nothing like the hardened woman who had first entered his study and negotiated her terms like a pro. Jean had had to snap him out of his daydreams to discuss the imports and specialty cargo.
"Aris, I need your head with me," he'd scolded.
"I apologize, Jean. What is he asking again?"
"Twenty cases of rifles."
"Twenty! Where am I to find that amount on short notice. Is he insane?" Aristotle growled.
"He's willing to pay out thousands for them," Jean assured him.
"Something is not sitting right with this."
Jean sighed and leaned back in his chair. His friend was growing ever cautious in his age. He wouldn't have even flinched at such a request back in the old days. "What is it now?"
"Gustave wants twenty cases of rifles in less than two weeks," Aristotle pondered. "If I recall we made an order for him not less than a month ago, for the same amount, yet he gave us a month's notice. Did his rebellion not go well?"
"What do you care? You never concerned yourself with sides, just the cash. Hell, Aris, once you supplied both sides with arms and made a tidy profit."
"Yes, well, governments are coming down harder on gun runners, Jean. You know that. Aren't you the least bit concerned this could be a set up?"
Jean began to think and started to see his old friend's point. "You think Gustave was captured and in return for leniency he would sell us under."
"Get Ton Ton on the next boat to find out about the outcome of the rebellion. If it checks out, Gustave gets his cases. Stall him for now, Jean."
Jean nodded, then his eyes studied his friend again. Curiosity was eating fiercely at him. "Who is she, Aris?"
Aristotle's eyes came up to meet his friend's smirking ones. He knew exactly who Jean was referring to. He wasn't sure if he wanted to answer. He was growing very possessive of his Evangeline.
"No one of consequence."
Jean snorted. "She must be someone important because your eyes followed her up and down the garden."
"You're far too observant, Jean."
"And you're a terrible dodger, Aris. Now give, who is she?"
Aristotle sighed shaking his head. Jean would be a dog about this until he was satisfied with an answer. "Do you recall our good friend Señor Montiero?"
"The fool from across the ocean? Oh, he was hysterical. Did he ever convince that daughter of his to come get him?"
Aristotle grew quiet, gaining Jean's notice.
"That's the daughter!"
"Stepdaughter. Though I'm sure she'd prefer no relation at all. He tricked her into coming here to pay his debt."
"And you are reaping the benefits."
"So far. But she is perplexing. I swear, Jean, she thinks more like a man than a woman."
"Those are usually the better ones."
"I thought so, too. Until I met her and now I'm just at a lost."
"Well, I say enjoy her while you can."
"Oh, I intend to."
"So, where do you plan on taking me?" Evangeline asked as she rose from the sofa, interrupting his thoughts.
Aristotle raked his eyes over her lovely frame. Taking her. Now that gave him a different idea. He could take her right there in the living room, but with Jean-Pierre up and about he decided against it. The nanny had already scolded him about his bad influence on the boy. Taking her hand delicately, he tucked her arm under his, leading her out into the foyer.
"I plan to show you about my city and lunch at one of my favorite restaurants."
"Sounds delightful."
Evangeline sat in the open-air carriage with Aristotle appreciating the tropical views of the city. He related the island's proud history and independence from France. She found herself fascinated and couldn't keep her eyes off him. She could tell he loved his homeland very much. Probably as much as she loved hers. Back home she would be at that moment knee deep in her books and ledgers or off with Como tasting the latest barrels of wine. Along with the loges her husband had left her, she managed the winery and liquor distillery, which provided spirits to all her businesses. Just before leaving, she had been in the midst of making a deal with a French financier looking to build a small hotel in the capital, which was why her French had greatly improved and had come in handy now.
This had been the first time in over five years, she had allowed herself to relax. She felt free here and couldn't help the feelings of contentment that kept invading her. "Tell me about your life as a boy," Evangeline implored.
Aristotle studied her a moment, taken aback by the question. "Well, my life as a boy was not very idyllic. We grew up very poor and my father was not a very kind man. The scar on my arm was proof of his disciplinary skills."
Evangeline did recall the large egg-shaped mark, but hadn't thought to comment. "What happened?"
"He dubbed me a bad boy and so heated a spoon and branded me such."
"That's horrible."
"My mother had done her best to heal the wound, but it stuck. Shortly there after, she ran away from him to live with her aunt in the country, taking my sister and me with her. My brother, Antoine stayed. He idealized him, so thought nothing of his abuse. When I grew older, I returned to the city to find him, but my old friends had told me that Antoine had been killed in a bar fight over some foolishness."
"And your father?"
"He succumbed to his drunkenness not long after." Aristotle glanced into the forest, remembering having to claim the body in the alley. "I felt no remorse."
Evangeline nodded emphatically. "How did you get into gun running?"
"Well, I first had started out as a crew member on a ship and worked my way quickly through the ranks. I was ship's first mate within two years of sailing. The captain was a crusty old salt who still acted like a pirate. He'd raid other ships for cargo, then put them to market. Some of these ships carried munitions heading to other islands in the Caribbean. He'd sell them to the rebels desperate for the weapons. He was fair and split the profits evenly with his men. His wife ran a general store out in the country, so he wasn't hard for money. He simply enjoyed the lifestyle. Sadly, he suffered a stroke on board the ship and knew he couldn't comeback to the ocean. So, having been a smart boy, I pocketed most of my earnings and bought the ship outright from him and became her captain. The crew respected me and it was business as usual."
"Impressive."
"Soon, I began making more money than I knew what to do with and started putting my attentions elsewhere. Sugar cane became interesting, so I bought several acres to the south of the island and began exporting out, but I couldn't completely let go of my gun running ways. So, I purchased another ship to handle my exports and retained my old ship for my other activities."
"And which venture drew my stepfather?"
"Ah, your stepfather took to my more wicked ventures. The gun running."
Evangeline smirked. "Why am I not surprised."
"Now, since I've spilled my life's story, it is now your turn."
Evangeline chuckled. "I was born to a very independent and inspirational woman. My father had died after my younger brother, Nato, had been born. For the first six years of my life, I lived such a happy life. I never wanted for anything, was loved and cared for as a child should be. When my father died, a light had gone out of my mother. She was still a mother to my brother and I but she was vacant."
Evangeline grew somber remembering that time in her life. Her mother had been so heartbroken, but determined to keep her children happy. "My grandfather was a bit of a social climber. He hadn't wanted my mother to get involved with my father, initially, because he thought him common. But my father had made tons of money in construction and repairs, especially when the government called on him. Only then was my grandfather happy with him. But once he had died, he needed to make sure the family name was linked to the social elite. So, he convinced my mother to marry Arnoldo, whose family were into politics."
Aristotle watched as she scrunched her face in disdain. "I hated him from the minute I met him. He oozed lies and sneakiness. He'd treat my brother and I one way in front of my mother and the complete opposite when her back was turned. He once tried to corner me in the back gardens, but being rather tall for my age and him being so short, we were evenly matched. I had won that round and he learned not to tangle with me. My mother gave birth to my step brothers, a set of twins and my youngest brother, Rui. She died in child birth with Rui. So, it was on me to raise my brothers. It would've been an easy task since my mother had left us so much money, but..."
"Arnoldo got a hold of it."
"Not only that, he tossed me and Nato out of our own home."
"That's awful. Couldn't you go to your grandfather?"
"Sadly, my father's parents had died when he was young and my maternal grandmother had died of an illness. My mother was an only child. My father's only living brother was a merchantmen who lived in the Americas and hadn't come home in years. Our grandfather, who would've fought on our behalf, died in the malaria epidemic. We were alone. Thankfully, one of my mother's old friends took pity on my brother and I and took us in. Then, when I was about 13, Arnoldo came looking for me. He fooled my mother's friend into think he was so remorseful for booting us out of our home that he would take us back and treat us well. I believed none of it. I knew he needed a nanny for Rui. Vincento and Victor, the twins, would come looking for me and ask for my help.
Despite our split bloodlines, I love my brothers with all my heart. The twins would come to me battered and bruised from one of Arnoldo's drunken furors. I would heal them. I would give them hope."
"So what happened when he took you and Nato in?"
"He would work Nato like a slave. The house had gone to wreck and ruin, all the servants had upped and left, not wanting to deal with a mad man, and as it had turned out, he had dried up all the money in my mother's coffers with his carousing. His family had even disowned him. So, there was no help coming from them. One day, he came to the kitchen I was in with a man and was regaling him of all my talents and skills. Almost like he was making a sale on a horse. I just remember this hulking beast of a man staring at me lasciviously. His beady little eyes studying my every movement. It was quite disconcerting."
"I can imagine."
"The next day, Arnoldo had my things packed and I was sent off to this man's home. My only saving grace was that his wife was very vigilant. I learned later there had been another girl before me who had run away from them in the middle of the night, because of his peculiar penchant. His wife would have no more of it and since she was the one with the money, he behaved."
"And Arnoldo knew all this."
"Of course. He wanted me humbled. But my mother still watched out for me. The lady actually remembered her and released me from their service. But I refused to go back to Arnoldo. I knew trouble would await me there. So, I took to the street."
"You were a beggar."
"Pretty much, but I worked for my food. Odd jobs. Some decent, some not so decent. Nato ended up running away from Arnoldo with Vinnie and Vick in tow with Rui. So, now I had them to worry about, but we were together. Desperate, I went to work in a tavern waiting tables, cleaning rooms. I was able to rent a room where my brothers could sleep. Nato, Vick and Vinnie went to work in one of the canneries. Rui would helped the cook by washing dishes and monitoring the pots. The manager liked us, so he would cut the rent, especially if I gave him a favor or two."
Aristotle nodded understanding her meaning. His heart had lurched upon hearing it. The graceful woman before him had been nothing more than a forced prostitute.
"Arnoldo came looking for us one day," she continued. "He had run into some debt trouble again and was looking to pull the same thing. This time I refused. I had grown from just a petty prostitute to courtesan thanks to my dear friend, Amelia. So, I had no need to fall victim to his trickery. Arnoldo was furious. He caused quite a scene and it had just so happened that the tavern's owner was there and had taken an immediate dislike of Arnoldo. He had Arnoldo beaten and tossed out of the tavern."
"Which I'm sure did not endear you any further to Arnoldo?"
"No, it didn't. Now, Jose Montiero owned several loges on various islands. He owned many wineries and distilleries as well. He was also a bit of a character. He was rich and ruthless, but he was kind to those he saw fit to be kind to. Seeing me stand up to Arnoldo instilled a certain level of respect in him for me."
"He was smitten with you?"
"Obsessed was more like it. All his grown children were spoiled rotten no thanks to their late mother and were constantly throwing their hands out to Montiero to pay their way. One day he had settled on the idea of cutting them out of his will, but he had to leave his inheritance to someone. He immediately decided that someone should be me. Apparently, I had become the belle of the town with men clamoring to make me their mistress. I didn't come cheap, nor did I just take on just any new lover. My fame had given the right to be selective. Montiero found this impressive. So, he came into the tavern to request an audience with me and proposed his plan. He hadn't be asking for much: a marriage in name only and someone to take over when he died. It was a chance to pull my brothers up and keep us secure respectfully. He sweetened the deal by ensuring that if Arnoldo ever darkened my door again, he would pay with his life. He even built it into his will."
"So, you married the old curmudgeon?"
"I'm Senora Montiero, aren't I?" she laughed. "But being his wife didn't mean luxury. The man made his final years laborious for me. I learned his trade from top to bottom. I learned all about wines, all about liquors, their color, their taste, their production. How to negotiate with vendors and sellers? How to store them? How to export them? Managed the books. He taught me to be hard and unyielding. He taught me how to make my mark."
"He certainly did."
Evangeline smiled appreciatively. "Well, once he died, there was not a lull in production. It was business as usual. Because those he had worked with had gotten to know me and knew I was just as good if not better than the old man, our business prospered. My brothers all became managers of loges and learned what I knew. Rui works with me. I keep him closest because he still has a soft spot for his one remaining parent. It's my fault really for sheltering him from Arnoldo's atrocities."
"And he's the one who convinced you to come."
Evangeline nodded her head with a sigh.
"I can't say I'm sorry," he admitted as they pulled up in front of a large restaurant. They had already entered the city and were drawing notice from the passers-by. Stepping down from the carriage, Aristotle reached up for her hand, which she graciously lent. She seductively brushed against him as she stepped down, her scent filling his nose.
"No I can't say you are."
However, the smile quickly vanished when she heard the click of boots entering the salon. Without having to look back she knew it was Aristotle. She could feel him, smell him; apparently a side effect of their powerful lovemaking this morning. He made his way to the breakfast bar to retrieve his food. Once he'd made his selections he adjourned to the chair opposite Evangeline, who merely continued to read the paper.
Silence flowed between them, but there was a definite sexual tension growing in the room. Aristotle watched her from the corner of his eyes. She looked ravishing in a simple lilac lace gown. The plunge of the neckline barely revealed her delectable breasts. Her skin was like fresh caramel from the melting pot, rich, blooming. The hint of her perfume filled his nostrils making him hunger more for her lips than the tasty mango on his plate. By all appearances, she didn't seem effected by his presence. In fact, she was engrossed in some article, which sparked his annoyance. He was the one who should be acting aloof, yet Evangeline had beaten him to it. What was worse was he wasn't sure if it was feigned interest as a distraction or not. He hadn't realized he was now fulling scrutinizing the beauty until he heard her chuckle.
"I assume your parents instilled in you the lesson about staring at guests."
Aristotle flushed at being caught. Straightening up, he returned to his meal. Her eyes never left the paper yet she knew he watched her.
"Something of gross interest, Madame Montiero?" he asked taking a bite of his fruit.
"Just reading the trades, Monsieur Beauvois," she replied.
Her answer piqued his interest. "Trades?"
"And the politics," she added setting the paper aside to acknowledge him. "If a city or country has started gaining good economic growth and trade I tend to try to get in on the ground level. Establish partnerships before they are so inundated with others."
Another facet of her that intrigued him: her business sense. While Arnoldo had been held as an unwilling guest, he had grumbled that Evangeline's keen eye for business was nothing more than luck. He had griped how she had refused to get into a venture with him because his plan had flaws in it. He had repeated the plan to Aristotle and he even saw the flaws and agreed with the woman before he'd even met her. Now, he was certain that Evangeline had more than luck guiding her business sense. Aristotle was actually interested in her picking her thoughts. They spent the rest of the morning discussing the trades, merchant partnerships, and the like; exchanging tips and ideas. It had been thrilling and her conversation had been edge with humor and intelligence. They had been so engrossed in their discussions they hadn't seen Jacques enter.
"Capitaine Monroe is here to see you," he announced breaking up their revelry.
Aristotle nodded to the valet, rising. He reached for Evangeline's hand. "I wish to discuss this further, Evangeline."
"It would be my pleasure," she smiled. "I'm sure Jacques will not mind giving me a tour of the grounds."
Jacques raised his brow at Aristotle who merely chuckled and nodded his consent. With that he was gone.
"And here we have the main gardens, which were put in new last year."
Evangeline studied the gardens and the richness of the floral arrangements. It definitely had a woman's touch to it. "I take it Aristotle had a lot of help with the arrangements."
"His sister had helped with some of the floral styling, but you are very astute, Madame Montiero. Monsieur Beauvois did garner other feminine opinions to decorate the garden."
"How long has he lived here, Jacques?"
"Monsieur has lived here for maybe seven years. He had grown tired of sailing, so had relinquished the captaincy of his ship to his good friend, Jean Monroe. He had purchased the property some twelve years ago from a financial boon he acquired. Before then he had been living on his ship like a -"
"A swashbuckling pirate," she teased, making the man flush.
"Actually more like a gun runner," he corrected. "He had been running artillery up to the States and throughout Mexico. However, the business got to be too much for him. He decided to take on trading and import and exports. He became very good at it and his wealth grew with less danger to his life."
Evangeline nodded. She was about to inquire more about Aristotle when the squeal of a child caught her ear. She turned at the sound and saw the most adorable little boy come running toward them. He favored, Aristotle a bit with his rich coloring and long hair clubbed behind his head. Something inside Evangeline stilled and her gut wrenched a little. The ache would bother her from time to time, but she usually did a fine job of quelling it. She actually loved children and would often find time to visit the orphanages in her town since they had tried to help her brothers and herself. With a stepfather like Arnoldo, one had to depend on the kindness of strangers sometime.
"Jean-Pierre, what is the meaning of this?" the valet scolded.
"You said you would play with me, Jacques," the boy scolded back.
"I am escorting, Madame Montiero, about the grounds, maybe afterwards. Maybe."
The boy glanced up with great interest at Evangeline. He was in awe of her, which actually made her blush. "Wow, she's pretty."
"You and your uncle apparently have the same tastes," Jacques murmured under his breath, forgetting Evangeline was in earshot.
"Uncle?"
"Ah, yes, this little scamp is the nephew of Monsieur Beauvois," Jacques explained. "His sister, Madeline's son. Before she left on a tour of Europe, she left the boy here in his uncle's care."
"More like your care, Jacques."
"Yes," he replied drolly. "Now, Jean-Pierre, do not be a bother. I will see you after."
The boy pouted at being sent away, which pulled at Evangeline. "Why doesn't he accompany us? I'm sure Jean-Pierre has an opinion of what are the interesting places on the grounds."
The boy perked up at the invitation and quickly took Evangeline's hand. "I'll show you all the neat things in the villa."
Jacques sighed wearily as he trailed behind them.
Two hours later and a thorough tour of the grounds, Evangeline and Jean-Pierre plopped down on the loveseat exhausted. Jacques was fanning himself by the door. They had climbed as high up as the villa would go all the way to the basement, then to the far reaches of the gardens to the stables. Evangeline had seen it all and all through the eyes of little Jean-Pierre, who had relished the idea of being tour guide. She had laughed and enjoyed herself immensely.
"Where should we go next?" Jean-Pierre squealed merrily.
"You, young man, will require a nap," Jacques stated firmly. "I'm sure your nanny has been spying about for you."
Jean-Pierre pouted stubbornly, but knew he couldn't push his luck too far since he had gotten away with so much. He slid off the couch, but not before giving Evangeline a big hug.
"Merci, Madame Evangeline. I had so much fun with you," he thanked before scooting out the door.
Evangeline actually smiled. "He's a lovable tike."
"More like a scamp," Jacques corrected. "He's constantly underfoot."
Evangeline ignored the gruffness in his tone, knowing full well he loved the tour as much as she did. "But he keeps you healthy."
Jacques snorted changing subjects. "Madame, the noon hour will be fast approaching, would you like anything in particular for lunch?"
"That won't be necessary, Jacques. I will be escorting Madame Evangeline to the city for lunch." Aristotle had entered unnoticed from the side door, where he had watched Evangeline and Jean-Pierre. The boy was usually never friendly with strangers and kept to himself, except when he hassled Jacques. Seeing their interaction had given Evangeline a new light, something he hadn't thought she was capable of. Compassion.
"Very good, Monsieur. Adieu, Madame, until the evening hour." With that Jacques disappeared.
Evangeline gazed over at Aristotle. Her eyes still twinkled with merriment, making their golden hue hightened. During his meeting with Jean, he had drifted several times from the conversation because of those very eyes. Then, he had noticed her traipsing through the garden with his nephew dragging her along. She looked so carefree and happy, nothing like the hardened woman who had first entered his study and negotiated her terms like a pro. Jean had had to snap him out of his daydreams to discuss the imports and specialty cargo.
"Aris, I need your head with me," he'd scolded.
"I apologize, Jean. What is he asking again?"
"Twenty cases of rifles."
"Twenty! Where am I to find that amount on short notice. Is he insane?" Aristotle growled.
"He's willing to pay out thousands for them," Jean assured him.
"Something is not sitting right with this."
Jean sighed and leaned back in his chair. His friend was growing ever cautious in his age. He wouldn't have even flinched at such a request back in the old days. "What is it now?"
"Gustave wants twenty cases of rifles in less than two weeks," Aristotle pondered. "If I recall we made an order for him not less than a month ago, for the same amount, yet he gave us a month's notice. Did his rebellion not go well?"
"What do you care? You never concerned yourself with sides, just the cash. Hell, Aris, once you supplied both sides with arms and made a tidy profit."
"Yes, well, governments are coming down harder on gun runners, Jean. You know that. Aren't you the least bit concerned this could be a set up?"
Jean began to think and started to see his old friend's point. "You think Gustave was captured and in return for leniency he would sell us under."
"Get Ton Ton on the next boat to find out about the outcome of the rebellion. If it checks out, Gustave gets his cases. Stall him for now, Jean."
Jean nodded, then his eyes studied his friend again. Curiosity was eating fiercely at him. "Who is she, Aris?"
Aristotle's eyes came up to meet his friend's smirking ones. He knew exactly who Jean was referring to. He wasn't sure if he wanted to answer. He was growing very possessive of his Evangeline.
"No one of consequence."
Jean snorted. "She must be someone important because your eyes followed her up and down the garden."
"You're far too observant, Jean."
"And you're a terrible dodger, Aris. Now give, who is she?"
Aristotle sighed shaking his head. Jean would be a dog about this until he was satisfied with an answer. "Do you recall our good friend Señor Montiero?"
"The fool from across the ocean? Oh, he was hysterical. Did he ever convince that daughter of his to come get him?"
Aristotle grew quiet, gaining Jean's notice.
"That's the daughter!"
"Stepdaughter. Though I'm sure she'd prefer no relation at all. He tricked her into coming here to pay his debt."
"And you are reaping the benefits."
"So far. But she is perplexing. I swear, Jean, she thinks more like a man than a woman."
"Those are usually the better ones."
"I thought so, too. Until I met her and now I'm just at a lost."
"Well, I say enjoy her while you can."
"Oh, I intend to."
"So, where do you plan on taking me?" Evangeline asked as she rose from the sofa, interrupting his thoughts.
Aristotle raked his eyes over her lovely frame. Taking her. Now that gave him a different idea. He could take her right there in the living room, but with Jean-Pierre up and about he decided against it. The nanny had already scolded him about his bad influence on the boy. Taking her hand delicately, he tucked her arm under his, leading her out into the foyer.
"I plan to show you about my city and lunch at one of my favorite restaurants."
"Sounds delightful."
Evangeline sat in the open-air carriage with Aristotle appreciating the tropical views of the city. He related the island's proud history and independence from France. She found herself fascinated and couldn't keep her eyes off him. She could tell he loved his homeland very much. Probably as much as she loved hers. Back home she would be at that moment knee deep in her books and ledgers or off with Como tasting the latest barrels of wine. Along with the loges her husband had left her, she managed the winery and liquor distillery, which provided spirits to all her businesses. Just before leaving, she had been in the midst of making a deal with a French financier looking to build a small hotel in the capital, which was why her French had greatly improved and had come in handy now.
This had been the first time in over five years, she had allowed herself to relax. She felt free here and couldn't help the feelings of contentment that kept invading her. "Tell me about your life as a boy," Evangeline implored.
Aristotle studied her a moment, taken aback by the question. "Well, my life as a boy was not very idyllic. We grew up very poor and my father was not a very kind man. The scar on my arm was proof of his disciplinary skills."
Evangeline did recall the large egg-shaped mark, but hadn't thought to comment. "What happened?"
"He dubbed me a bad boy and so heated a spoon and branded me such."
"That's horrible."
"My mother had done her best to heal the wound, but it stuck. Shortly there after, she ran away from him to live with her aunt in the country, taking my sister and me with her. My brother, Antoine stayed. He idealized him, so thought nothing of his abuse. When I grew older, I returned to the city to find him, but my old friends had told me that Antoine had been killed in a bar fight over some foolishness."
"And your father?"
"He succumbed to his drunkenness not long after." Aristotle glanced into the forest, remembering having to claim the body in the alley. "I felt no remorse."
Evangeline nodded emphatically. "How did you get into gun running?"
"Well, I first had started out as a crew member on a ship and worked my way quickly through the ranks. I was ship's first mate within two years of sailing. The captain was a crusty old salt who still acted like a pirate. He'd raid other ships for cargo, then put them to market. Some of these ships carried munitions heading to other islands in the Caribbean. He'd sell them to the rebels desperate for the weapons. He was fair and split the profits evenly with his men. His wife ran a general store out in the country, so he wasn't hard for money. He simply enjoyed the lifestyle. Sadly, he suffered a stroke on board the ship and knew he couldn't comeback to the ocean. So, having been a smart boy, I pocketed most of my earnings and bought the ship outright from him and became her captain. The crew respected me and it was business as usual."
"Impressive."
"Soon, I began making more money than I knew what to do with and started putting my attentions elsewhere. Sugar cane became interesting, so I bought several acres to the south of the island and began exporting out, but I couldn't completely let go of my gun running ways. So, I purchased another ship to handle my exports and retained my old ship for my other activities."
"And which venture drew my stepfather?"
"Ah, your stepfather took to my more wicked ventures. The gun running."
Evangeline smirked. "Why am I not surprised."
"Now, since I've spilled my life's story, it is now your turn."
Evangeline chuckled. "I was born to a very independent and inspirational woman. My father had died after my younger brother, Nato, had been born. For the first six years of my life, I lived such a happy life. I never wanted for anything, was loved and cared for as a child should be. When my father died, a light had gone out of my mother. She was still a mother to my brother and I but she was vacant."
Evangeline grew somber remembering that time in her life. Her mother had been so heartbroken, but determined to keep her children happy. "My grandfather was a bit of a social climber. He hadn't wanted my mother to get involved with my father, initially, because he thought him common. But my father had made tons of money in construction and repairs, especially when the government called on him. Only then was my grandfather happy with him. But once he had died, he needed to make sure the family name was linked to the social elite. So, he convinced my mother to marry Arnoldo, whose family were into politics."
Aristotle watched as she scrunched her face in disdain. "I hated him from the minute I met him. He oozed lies and sneakiness. He'd treat my brother and I one way in front of my mother and the complete opposite when her back was turned. He once tried to corner me in the back gardens, but being rather tall for my age and him being so short, we were evenly matched. I had won that round and he learned not to tangle with me. My mother gave birth to my step brothers, a set of twins and my youngest brother, Rui. She died in child birth with Rui. So, it was on me to raise my brothers. It would've been an easy task since my mother had left us so much money, but..."
"Arnoldo got a hold of it."
"Not only that, he tossed me and Nato out of our own home."
"That's awful. Couldn't you go to your grandfather?"
"Sadly, my father's parents had died when he was young and my maternal grandmother had died of an illness. My mother was an only child. My father's only living brother was a merchantmen who lived in the Americas and hadn't come home in years. Our grandfather, who would've fought on our behalf, died in the malaria epidemic. We were alone. Thankfully, one of my mother's old friends took pity on my brother and I and took us in. Then, when I was about 13, Arnoldo came looking for me. He fooled my mother's friend into think he was so remorseful for booting us out of our home that he would take us back and treat us well. I believed none of it. I knew he needed a nanny for Rui. Vincento and Victor, the twins, would come looking for me and ask for my help.
Despite our split bloodlines, I love my brothers with all my heart. The twins would come to me battered and bruised from one of Arnoldo's drunken furors. I would heal them. I would give them hope."
"So what happened when he took you and Nato in?"
"He would work Nato like a slave. The house had gone to wreck and ruin, all the servants had upped and left, not wanting to deal with a mad man, and as it had turned out, he had dried up all the money in my mother's coffers with his carousing. His family had even disowned him. So, there was no help coming from them. One day, he came to the kitchen I was in with a man and was regaling him of all my talents and skills. Almost like he was making a sale on a horse. I just remember this hulking beast of a man staring at me lasciviously. His beady little eyes studying my every movement. It was quite disconcerting."
"I can imagine."
"The next day, Arnoldo had my things packed and I was sent off to this man's home. My only saving grace was that his wife was very vigilant. I learned later there had been another girl before me who had run away from them in the middle of the night, because of his peculiar penchant. His wife would have no more of it and since she was the one with the money, he behaved."
"And Arnoldo knew all this."
"Of course. He wanted me humbled. But my mother still watched out for me. The lady actually remembered her and released me from their service. But I refused to go back to Arnoldo. I knew trouble would await me there. So, I took to the street."
"You were a beggar."
"Pretty much, but I worked for my food. Odd jobs. Some decent, some not so decent. Nato ended up running away from Arnoldo with Vinnie and Vick in tow with Rui. So, now I had them to worry about, but we were together. Desperate, I went to work in a tavern waiting tables, cleaning rooms. I was able to rent a room where my brothers could sleep. Nato, Vick and Vinnie went to work in one of the canneries. Rui would helped the cook by washing dishes and monitoring the pots. The manager liked us, so he would cut the rent, especially if I gave him a favor or two."
Aristotle nodded understanding her meaning. His heart had lurched upon hearing it. The graceful woman before him had been nothing more than a forced prostitute.
"Arnoldo came looking for us one day," she continued. "He had run into some debt trouble again and was looking to pull the same thing. This time I refused. I had grown from just a petty prostitute to courtesan thanks to my dear friend, Amelia. So, I had no need to fall victim to his trickery. Arnoldo was furious. He caused quite a scene and it had just so happened that the tavern's owner was there and had taken an immediate dislike of Arnoldo. He had Arnoldo beaten and tossed out of the tavern."
"Which I'm sure did not endear you any further to Arnoldo?"
"No, it didn't. Now, Jose Montiero owned several loges on various islands. He owned many wineries and distilleries as well. He was also a bit of a character. He was rich and ruthless, but he was kind to those he saw fit to be kind to. Seeing me stand up to Arnoldo instilled a certain level of respect in him for me."
"He was smitten with you?"
"Obsessed was more like it. All his grown children were spoiled rotten no thanks to their late mother and were constantly throwing their hands out to Montiero to pay their way. One day he had settled on the idea of cutting them out of his will, but he had to leave his inheritance to someone. He immediately decided that someone should be me. Apparently, I had become the belle of the town with men clamoring to make me their mistress. I didn't come cheap, nor did I just take on just any new lover. My fame had given the right to be selective. Montiero found this impressive. So, he came into the tavern to request an audience with me and proposed his plan. He hadn't be asking for much: a marriage in name only and someone to take over when he died. It was a chance to pull my brothers up and keep us secure respectfully. He sweetened the deal by ensuring that if Arnoldo ever darkened my door again, he would pay with his life. He even built it into his will."
"So, you married the old curmudgeon?"
"I'm Senora Montiero, aren't I?" she laughed. "But being his wife didn't mean luxury. The man made his final years laborious for me. I learned his trade from top to bottom. I learned all about wines, all about liquors, their color, their taste, their production. How to negotiate with vendors and sellers? How to store them? How to export them? Managed the books. He taught me to be hard and unyielding. He taught me how to make my mark."
"He certainly did."
Evangeline smiled appreciatively. "Well, once he died, there was not a lull in production. It was business as usual. Because those he had worked with had gotten to know me and knew I was just as good if not better than the old man, our business prospered. My brothers all became managers of loges and learned what I knew. Rui works with me. I keep him closest because he still has a soft spot for his one remaining parent. It's my fault really for sheltering him from Arnoldo's atrocities."
"And he's the one who convinced you to come."
Evangeline nodded her head with a sigh.
"I can't say I'm sorry," he admitted as they pulled up in front of a large restaurant. They had already entered the city and were drawing notice from the passers-by. Stepping down from the carriage, Aristotle reached up for her hand, which she graciously lent. She seductively brushed against him as she stepped down, her scent filling his nose.
"No I can't say you are."
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