cathedral! Named for the French king who undertook two Crusades! Still the oldest active cathedral in the United States. And the statue, where on the side facing the cathedral you will find printed, ‘The Union must and shall be preserved!’—a message from the Yanks when they took the city. And the square—yes it was a parade ground. It was also the site of public executions, including—throughout the years—burning at the stake, hanging, beheading—and my personal favorite for most pathetic and gruesome—breaking on the wheel. Luckily, I can thank God for small favors. All that was in the past. You’re not going to be able to publicly burn Jon at the stake, or chop off his head, here in this place.”
She thought he would respond angrily to her taunt.
He just stared at her, eyes glittering silver in the growth of night light as the moon, nearly full, rose behind him.
But he didn’t reply angrily. He didn’t reply for quite a while. Then he simply shrugged and said, “Darn! No public burning at the stake?”
She turned, walking away from the statue.
“Mrs. Marcel!”
She kept walking.
“Dammit, Ann!”
She was startled when he caught her elbow, swinging her around to face him. “I’ll see you to your place.”
“I know the way.”
“I’ll see you home.”
“It’s easy to walk from here.”
“I’ll walk with you.”
“Well, I won’t walk with you.”
“Fine, I’ll walk behind you.”
Ann started walking. She passed a number of artists she knew, working in the square. She offered each a forced smile and hurried on past, faster and faster, determined not to pause.
But he stayed right behind her.
“This isn’t necessary.”
“I think it is.”
“Lieutenant, I live here. I walk these streets daily. I’m not afraid—”
“I am.”
She paused, spinning back to him. He was so close, she nearly collided with him.
Instead, she smelled him. He smelled good. Darned good. Too good. She felt ridiculously dizzy, so close to the man. He set his hands on her shoulders, meeting her eyes.
“I’ll see you home,” he said determinedly. “And I’ll check out your place.”
“Lieutenant, I already left you for the evening.”
“I’m back.”
“And I’m out for an evening’s stroll now. And you’re not invited.”
“It’s a public street. And I intend to see you through it.”
“I’m fine.”
“It’s just a precaution.”
“I don’t need—”
“I do.”
“Wait a minute, you don’t even know what I was going to say. What is it that I’m so certain that I don’t need and you’re so certain you do?”
“You.”
“What?”
“I need to watch out for you, Mrs. Marcel.”
“Why?”
His teeth grated. He let out a sigh of great impatience. “I need you alive.”
“Oh, you do. Why, Lieutenant?”
“It’s my job to keep you alive.”
“I haven’t been threatened.”
“The situation is threatening.”
“I don’t need—”
“You do!”
“Why?”
“Because I am going to look after you whether you need me to do so, want me to do so, or not!”
“Why?” she demanded one last time with total exasperation.
“Because, Mrs. Marcel, you aren’t telling me the truth—the whole truth and nothing but the truth. You do know something.”
“I don’t.”
“You do. And you’re going to tell me.”
“The hell I am.”
“Ah,” he said softly. “You admit you do know something.”
She studied his eyes, so sharp and intent upon her. The breeze lifted strands of dark hair across his forehead. His shoulders seemed broad and powerful in the moonlight. She felt the most absurd temptation to lean against him.
He was trying to hang Jon.
He would probably love to see Jon burned to cinders in the middle of Jackson Square.
She smiled sweetly. “Lieutenant.”
“Yes?”
“Go to hell.”
She turned yet again. And walked.
And she didn’t look back once.
Yet she was aware...
His footsteps followed her home. To her door.
She entered her
She thought he would respond angrily to her taunt.
He just stared at her, eyes glittering silver in the growth of night light as the moon, nearly full, rose behind him.
But he didn’t reply angrily. He didn’t reply for quite a while. Then he simply shrugged and said, “Darn! No public burning at the stake?”
She turned, walking away from the statue.
“Mrs. Marcel!”
She kept walking.
“Dammit, Ann!”
She was startled when he caught her elbow, swinging her around to face him. “I’ll see you to your place.”
“I know the way.”
“I’ll see you home.”
“It’s easy to walk from here.”
“I’ll walk with you.”
“Well, I won’t walk with you.”
“Fine, I’ll walk behind you.”
Ann started walking. She passed a number of artists she knew, working in the square. She offered each a forced smile and hurried on past, faster and faster, determined not to pause.
But he stayed right behind her.
“This isn’t necessary.”
“I think it is.”
“Lieutenant, I live here. I walk these streets daily. I’m not afraid—”
“I am.”
She paused, spinning back to him. He was so close, she nearly collided with him.
Instead, she smelled him. He smelled good. Darned good. Too good. She felt ridiculously dizzy, so close to the man. He set his hands on her shoulders, meeting her eyes.
“I’ll see you home,” he said determinedly. “And I’ll check out your place.”
“Lieutenant, I already left you for the evening.”
“I’m back.”
“And I’m out for an evening’s stroll now. And you’re not invited.”
“It’s a public street. And I intend to see you through it.”
“I’m fine.”
“It’s just a precaution.”
“I don’t need—”
“I do.”
“Wait a minute, you don’t even know what I was going to say. What is it that I’m so certain that I don’t need and you’re so certain you do?”
“You.”
“What?”
“I need to watch out for you, Mrs. Marcel.”
“Why?”
His teeth grated. He let out a sigh of great impatience. “I need you alive.”
“Oh, you do. Why, Lieutenant?”
“It’s my job to keep you alive.”
“I haven’t been threatened.”
“The situation is threatening.”
“I don’t need—”
“You do!”
“Why?”
“Because I am going to look after you whether you need me to do so, want me to do so, or not!”
“Why?” she demanded one last time with total exasperation.
“Because, Mrs. Marcel, you aren’t telling me the truth—the whole truth and nothing but the truth. You do know something.”
“I don’t.”
“You do. And you’re going to tell me.”
“The hell I am.”
“Ah,” he said softly. “You admit you do know something.”
She studied his eyes, so sharp and intent upon her. The breeze lifted strands of dark hair across his forehead. His shoulders seemed broad and powerful in the moonlight. She felt the most absurd temptation to lean against him.
He was trying to hang Jon.
He would probably love to see Jon burned to cinders in the middle of Jackson Square.
She smiled sweetly. “Lieutenant.”
“Yes?”
“Go to hell.”
She turned yet again. And walked.
And she didn’t look back once.
Yet she was aware...
His footsteps followed her home. To her door.
She entered her
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