Always & Forever: A Saga of Slavery and Deliverance (The Plantation Series Book 1) by Gretchen Craig

Chamard seemed suddenly aware, too, and he straightened.
    Josie felt the blood heating her face. He’d kissed her! And
in front of Albany Johnston and Abigail too. What must they think of her? And
what was Bertrand Chamard thinking?
    He turned a jovial face to Albany. “My cousin is recovered,
and I take that as a blessing, Johnston. Perhaps you will allow her to ride
with you on your horse back to the house? I would take it kindly. My stallion
is not fit for a gentle rider.”
    “I’m perfectly capable of riding by myself,” Josie protested.
    “Please, cousin,” Chamard said. “I would be more at ease if
you would ride with Johnston.”
    Those lovely eyes appealed to her, and she relented.
    Albany offered his arm and led her to his mount. Once she
was in the saddle and he astride behind her, he reached one arm around her to
hold the reins and with the other held her around the middle. Josie was aware
of Albany’s hand pressed against her ribs, but it was not the same sensation as
her cousin’s hands on her. With Johnston’s body behind her, she was simply hot.
    When they reached the stable, Albany slid off first. Then he
held both arms up to Josie. She allowed him to lift her down, and as he set her
on her feet, he said in her ear, “I’m so glad you’re all right, Josie.”
    Josie pulled her head back. He’d dropped the proper Miss
Josephine, she observed. “Thank you, Monsieur,” she said formally. She glanced
at Bertrand Chamard. He had the look of a man trying not to smile.
    Albany was quite solicitous after the incident on the horse
path. Once Josie had cleaned the mud from her hair and changed her frock, he
hovered at her side all through the afternoon. Sit here away from the sun’s
glare, he’d say, or perhaps she’d like a little brandy to ease her bruises.
    Josie, though she did not welcome his attentions, was
grateful he did not look at her as if she were a wanton woman that disgraceful
kiss in broad daylight on the horse path.
    Chamard absented himself the rest of that day touring the
Johnston Plantation, and Josie watched the door for his return. He was the most
handsome man she’d ever seen, and so sophisticated. As Albany droned on about
cane futures, Josie relived her cousin’s totally inappropriate kiss. It hadn’t
been much of a kiss, even she knew that. Nevertheless, she absently traced the
shape of her lower lip, the memory of Bertrand Chamard’s mouth on hers warming
her whole body.
    Josie became aware of Albany’s eyes fastened on her mouth.
She dropped her hand and valiantly pretended interest in the workings of the
New Orleans market.
    Abigail and Mrs. Johnston sat on either side of the tall
window busying themselves with their embroidery. They were both
uncharacteristically quiet, and Josie caught Mrs. Johnston peering at her and
Albany over her sewing glasses. Judging by her encouraging nod and smile, Josie
gauged she was meant to bear Albany’s attentions quite alone.
    Before supper, Mr. Johnston and Chamard joined them in the
drawing room. At last, Josie thought. She hoped her cousin would sit next to
her, but Albany diverted his guest by motioning Chamard toward the humidor
across the room. “Have a cigar?”
    Josie admired the obvious relish Chamard took in the first
inhalation of the fine Cuban cigar.
    “What did you think of the plantation, Mr. Chamard?”
    He peered through the smoke at his hostess. “Very fine. You
have some excellent bottomland on this side of the river. As dark a soil as
I’ve seen hereabouts, and well drained.”
    Mr. Johnston changed the subject. “You’ll be relieved, my
dear,” he said to his wife, “that the levees hold fast against the high water.”
He turned to Chamard. “Mrs. Johnston has been anxious about flooding. Someone
in New Orleans told her the river can carve a path through a levee, and she has
not slept well with this excessive rain we’ve had.”
    “Like a knife through butter. That’s what Felicity