Love Be Mine (The Louisiana Ladies Series, Book 3) by Shirlee Busbee

Gaston, the second son, just twenty-five, was also much sighed over by Creole maidens, and their sister, Rachelle, with her cat green eyes and porcelain skin, was already one of the reigning belles in the area. The second family, Monsieur and Madame Charbonneau, had also brought their older children with them—the son, Bellamy, was a very handsome young man of twenty-seven; there had been a time when he had dangled after Micaela, but it had come to naught, although he was still unattached. His so-charming sisters—Colette, eighteen, and Henrietta, seventeen—were both petite, pretty creatures with masses of dusky curls and merry laughs. With so many young and unmarried guests, the party was likely to prove to be most lively.
    Since the festivities were not scheduled to begin until the next day, dinner that evening was composed only of those guests staying at the house and the Husson family. François had been particularly insistent that they be invited.
    Dinner that evening was a boisterous affair, the antics of the younger members causing smiles and chuckles from the older contingent. And while Lisette had planned no other activities, it wasn't very long after dinner that François and Bellamy had prevailed upon her to play the piano and Jean the violin so that they all might dance. Everyone retired to the music room; chairs and tables were pushed aside, and soon one might have thought that a grand ball was being held.
    Despite his dismissal of Jean's comment about Hugh and Micaela, François, when he was not squiring one of the young ladies about the room, found himself watching the pair of them. Noticing them standing with three or four others near the opened French doors, François joined the group.
    Jasper made some sally, and Hugh grinned. Shaking his head, Hugh said, "Mon ami, if I followed your advice, I would never accomplish anything and would instead become as frivolous and heedless of business affairs as you are yourself."
    "Oh?" Micaela asked with a raised brow. "You find us frivolous, monsieur?"
    "But very, very lovely," Hugh murmured, with a deep bow in her direction.
    Ignoring the warm rush his comment gave her, over the top of her gaily painted silk fan, Micaela regarded him. "Are you never frivolous, monsieur?"
    "I do not believe so, mademoiselle," Hugh answered gravely, a hint of laughter in his eyes. "Americans are not known for their, ah, frivolity."
    Micaela gave an exaggerated sigh. Opening her eyes very wide, she murmured, "Merci! How utterly boring you Américains must be."
    Hugh's shout of laughter made several heads turn in that direction, but beyond Micaela's strategic retreat to another part of the room, there was nothing to see. One might have wondered, however, at the color in her cheeks and the sparkle in her eyes.
    Drifting over to a table spread with refreshments, Micaela waited while a servant poured her a glass of lemonade. Sipping it, she turned back to survey the room, sighing when Alain appeared at her side.
    "What did he say to you that makes you look so pleased with yourself?" Alain inquired silkily, as he boldly took her arm and began to escort her away from the table.
    Micaela accompanied him a few steps, but when she saw he was attempting to lead her outside, she stopped and said, "Let go of my arm, Alain. I am not leaving this room with you. And to answer your question—it is none of your affair. Now go find someone who may find your company more welcome that I do."
    Alain smiled confidently down at her. "Ah, you are still angry with me, are you not, ma belle?"
    Giving him a level glance, she said coolly, "No, I am not angry with you. I am simply indifferent to you. And I would appreciate it if you would do as I say and leave me alone."
    "Do you know that I find your anger most exciting?" Alain murmured, his smile unabated.
    Tapping him sharply on the arm with her fan, she muttered, "Oh, go away! You are tiresome."
    Completely unmoved by her manner, Alain's smile only deepened.