The broad fan of steps swept down to the foyer. He ducked back when he heard Holdstock speaking with someone at the door. From the guest’s accent, he was French. That meant little in a town filled with Frenchmen and Acadians. French Creole was almost as widely spoken as English or Spanish.
“I am glad we could meet, Monsieur Leclerc. Come into the study. I have a fine cigar from Cuba that you will find delightful.”
“Bon, good, Mr. Holdstock. And brandy?”
“Only the finest French brandy.”
The two laughed and disappeared from sight. Mac cursed his bad luck. It would have been better if Holdstock were out of the house rather than entertaining—or conducting business, judging by the formality the two showed one another. Some high-powered deal was being struck not fifty feet away. That deal would undoubtedly make the banker rich. Or richer than he already was.
But Mac didn’t care about that. His riches were wrapped in crinoline and lace, with flowing blond hair and eyes as green as jade. He stepped back and wondered where she might be.
Then he heard her soft voice below as she greeted Monsieur Leclerc and exchanged a few mumbled pleasantries. The sound of her slippers moving against the foyer floor set his heart racing. He hastily retreated to her bedroom and closed the door behind him. From past times here, he knew the exact spot to stand.
Beside her wardrobe, hidden in shadow when she lit the oil lamp, he could cherish her for a few seconds before she realized she was not alone. Mac pressed into the niche just as the door opened. He closed his eyes and took a deep whiff. Jasmine perfume made his nostrils flare. This was her favorite perfume, but he told her often she did not need it, not with him. Just being around her intoxicated his senses more than enough.
He opened his eyes and squinted as he stared directly into the burning wick of Evie’s bedside lamp. She bent over slightly, hands on the bed, her bustle wiggling delightfully.
“I have never seen any woman so lovely,” he said. “If I live to be a thousand, I never will forget this moment, this sight, this beautiful—”
She straightened and spun. Her eyes went wide. His heart almost skipped a beat when he realized it wasn’t surprise that caused her face to contort. It was fear.
“What’s wrong, my dear?” He went to her, but she pushed him back.
“Go, Mac. Get out of here now. Please. Don’t slow down. He knows we’ve been seeing each other.”
“I don’t care. I love you. Do you love me?”
“Yes, yes,” she said, flustered. She brushed back a wayward strand of lustrous, honey blond hair and looked up at him. True fear twisted her face. “I love you with all my heart and soul, Mac. That’s why you have to leave.”
“Then let’s go together. Let’s elope. We can find a justice of the peace. We don’t have to get married in the St. Louis Basilica.”
“Mac, you don’t understand. I—”
“I can’t give you a fancy house or fine clothing or jewelry like this.” He touched the pearl necklace around her slender throat, then moved to caress her cheek. “Not now. Someday I will. Together we can—”
“You have to go before he catches you!”
“I’ll go down and beard the old lion in his den. We’ll have it out, man to man. I won’t let him chase me off from the love of my life.” He moved her around so he could go to the door.
Before he could get there, the door slammed open, reverberating as it smashed into the wall. Silhouetted against the light from downstairs, Micah Holdstock filled the frame.
“I should have known you would come, especially on a night like this!”
Mac began, “Mr. Holdstock, I—”
“Papa, please, you can’t do this. Don’t hurt him.” Evie tried to interpose herself between the men, but Mac wouldn’t have it. No woman he loved sacrificed herself for him, especially with her father.
“Evie and I love each other, sir. We’re getting married!”
Micah Holdstock let out a roar like a charging bull. The attack took Mac by surprise. Strong arms encircled his body and lifted him off his feet. He tried to get his arms free but couldn’t with them pinned at his sides. Still roaring, Holdstock went directly for the French doors and smashed through them. Shards of glass sprayed in the air and tumbled to the balcony as he used Mac as a battering ram.
The collision robbed Mac of breath. He went limp in the man’s death grip. This saved him from being driven against the iron railing and having his back broken. He dropped to his knees as Holdstock crashed into the wrought-iron railing and fought to keep from tumbling into the street below.
“Papa,” he heard Evie pleading, trying to stop the attack.
Mac got to shaky feet to face her pa.
“This is no way for future in-laws to act,” he gasped out. “My intentions are honorable.”
“She’s betrothed. As of this very evening!” Again Holdstock charged.
Mac saw the expression of resignation on Evie’s face an instant before her father’s hard fist caught him on the side of the head and sent him reeling. He grabbed the iron railing and went over, dangled a moment, then fell heavily to the cobblestone street and sprawled onto his back. He stared up to see Evie sobbing bitterly as her father grabbed her by the arm and pulled her out of sight.
“You can’t do this. I won’t let you!” He got to his feet in time to see the two guards round the corner. From the way they were hurrying,
