Josephine: Bride of Louisiana (American Mail-Order Bride 18) by Cindy Caldwell Page B

his eyebrows and held up an empty glass toward Pierre.
    “None for me, thank you,” Pierre said as he stood.
    “But of course Josephine would, wouldn’t you?” Jerome said, pouring another glass and handing it toward Josephine.
    Pierre looked from his cousin to Josephine, who was looking at him, her eyes questioning.
    “Something else you’ve never had?” Jerome cut in, lifting the glass up again. “Might as well try it. It’s French and all that.”
    Pierre nodded at Josephine. Jerome was right. This was something that Josephine would have knowledge of. Even if ladies didn’t partake often, they definitely knew what it tasted like--and what it smelled like on their husbands after a long night of poker. In fact, as he approached his cousin, it was plain that this had been one of those nights for Jerome.
    “Are you well, cousin?” Pierre hadn’t seen Jerome all day, but had assumed he’d be riding the plantation like they were, as he said he’d take over business for him while he helped Josephine. “Is everything as it should be on the plantation?”
    Jerome waved his hand in the air as he filled his glass again. “Oh, don’t worry so much, Pierre. Everything is fine. And it will be very fine as soon as you get your inheritance.”
    Josephine shot a glance at Pierre, and he gave in to his urge to move closer to her, his hand protectively around her waist. She squeezed his hand as Jerome passed by, his eyes not leaving Josephine.
    “Now you, fair lady, should get back to your education.” He raised his glass in their direction and turned, closing the parlor door behind him.
    “Should I drink this, Pierre?”
    He shook his feelings off as he turned from the door. “If you’d like to,” he replied, smiling as Josephine brought the small glass to her nose and inhaled.
    She wrinkled her nose and looked up at him, her eyes wide. “Oh, I did it again, didn’t I?”
    “Yes, you have an unusual habit of smelling things before you taste them. We’ll have to work on that.”
    She shivered as she drank the potent, orange-flavored liqueur, one he’d been accustomed to for a long time.
    “Oh,” she cried. “It’s burning my nose.” She coughed as she set the glass down.
    He tried not to laugh as he watched her. He’d known her for just a short time, but as he’d gotten to know her, he wondered if there ever could be anyone for him. That he could have any kind of love like his parents had known.
    He knew one thing for certain, though. He’d never seen anyone as beautiful, and his eyebrows rose as he realized that for the first time in his life, that included even his mother. Yes, she was even more beautiful, her humor, kindness and generosity radiating from her with every step.
    He cleared his throat and vowed to tell her the remainder of the truth he’d started to tell her earlier. That he had no room in his heart. No room for anything but the plantation. He knew that the entrance to his heart had snapped shut when his mother died and he turned all of his affection toward the planation. He couldn’t afford for anything to sidetrack him now--not even this beautiful young woman who was giving her all to help him.
    His heart felt like a stone in his chest as she stood and turned to him, her smile brilliant and the scent of oranges hanging in the air.
    “The plantation is my priority. Nothing else matters. I hate to say this, but I had no room in my life to court. No time, and no interest. This marriage requirement came as a complete surprise, and I thought that since I didn’t want a real marriage anyway, this would be the next best...”
    With two long strides, Pierre was able to catch Josephine before she hit the floor.
    “Bernadette. Jerome. Come quickly. Josephine’s fainted.”

Chapter Twenty
    H e could kick himself for what he’d said to Josephine. He couldn’t erase from his mind the stricken look on her face before she’d gone limp, no matter how hard he tried.
    He’d stood with her in