Taking her in, he whispered, “My God, Raven. Look at you.” He appeared mesmerized.
“You look pretty grand yourself, Mr. Steele.”
He kept staring.
From the top of the staircase, Kate said, “Brax, you’re going to be late.”
He shook himself free, offered his arm, and escorted her out to his carriage.
The ball was held at the African Meeting House. The ladies’ auxiliary headed by Lottie had done the decorating, and the interior was filled with flowers. As Raven and Brax were announced, applause greeted their arrival and eyes popped all over the room at the sight of Raven in her gown. Not everyone was pleased, however. As she and Brax made their way around the room, she noticed some of the women she knew to be friends with Pearl Franklin subtly turn their backs. Raven had not been to many formal events but she’d worked some, and knew a cut when she saw it. Brax didn’t seem to have noticed and she was glad of that. She didn’t want the witches to spoil his mood. But the cutting continued. Lottienoticed it, too, and came over to lend moral support as did a few of Lottie’s good friends. The treatment was maddening, embarrassing, and yes, hurtful. Raven told herself she didn’t care, because when she returned to New Orleans, she wouldn’t spend a minute thinking about them, but Brax lived here, worked here, and socialized here. She didn’t want how they felt about her to affect him or his standing in the community he loved so much.
After dinner, needing some air, Raven stepped outside into the darkness. Her mother and Harrison would be returning to New Orleans the next day now that the yellow fever deaths seemed to be on the decline. They’d not come to the ball, however. Harrison said they wanted to spend their last night in town with his friend Charley Shirley and others. Raven wished she had joined them. She and Brax were scheduled to travel back to New Orleans in a week for the wedding. But after what she’d encountered inside, she thought she might return home sooner.
Other ball goers had stepped outside by the time Raven made up her mind about returning. Yes, going home early would be best for all concerned. In the meantime, she decided to enjoy the cool breeze just a few minutes more before going back inside. She was standing in a spot that couldn’t be seen from the door, and because of the darkness she was rendered nearly invisible. And that’s when she heard Pearl Franklin’s voice. “I can’t believe he’s parading that whore around as if she’s quality. My daughter broke things off with him because of his association with her.”
The other woman chimed in, “I hear Harrison’s been parading around the mother. You’ve heard of two peas in a pod. The Steele men have two whores in a pod.” Raven didn’t recognize the voice.
They laughed.
Pearl said, “I hope Braxton isn’t planning on marrying her. If he does, I will do my best to make sure she’s given the short shrift she deserves. Can you imagine having her at your dinner table with decent folks?”
“No. Never. And that horrid accent.”
Pearl added, “I agree. He’s obviously so besotted he doesn’t care about his reputation. His grandfather and my dear friend Jane, his mother, are probably spinning in their graves.”
Raven had had enough. Furious at them and heartbroken to hear them disparage Brax that way, she peeled herself out of the darkness and approached them. Seeing her, they both jumped like fish on a line. “Yes, I heard every word. I hope you don’t sing hymns on Sunday with those nasty, hateful mouths. Enjoy the rest of your evening.”
Raven plastered a fake smile on her face andmade it to the end of the ball. When she and Brax went home, she didn’t tell him what happened. Instead, she let his kisses soften her hurt as she slowly removed her gown. Let the worshipping path of his hands soothe her anger and the feel of his nude body flush against her own salve her desire to demand the witches meet her to duel at dawn. By the time Brax was done making her orgasm above him, below him, and on every flat surface in his bedroom, she couldn’t even remember Pearl Franklin’s name.
A quiet knock on the door made Raven look up from her packing. “Come in.”
It was Brax. He’d spent the day working at his shop and the early part of the evening dispensing some of the funds raised by last night’s ball to some of the charitable organizations the affair supported. She watched his eyes brush her carpetbag before he asked, “What are you doing?”
She put her nightgowns into the bag. “I’m going back to New Orleans in the morning to help Mama with the wedding.”
“I thought we were going to go together next week.”
“I have to go now.”
“Why?”
“Because I don’t belong with you, Brax.” She now wished she’d taken the coward’s way out and disappeared earlier while he was away and spared herself the heartache, but he deserved toknow she was leaving. She owed him at least that, and so much more. “You should be with someone who’s more evenly yoked.” She gave him a smile at the reminder of their frequent conversations. “Someone more like Lottie.”
“But you know that isn’t what I want.”
“You say that now, but in the years ahead, suppose you realize being with me was a bad idea. What if someone or something from my past shows up? The last thing I want is for my life to splash on you in a way that diminishes your standing here. You’re a pinnacle of the community. People respect you. They look up to you. I’m just a bayou girl from New Orleans. I don’t own fancy slippers, wear fancy gowns, or know how to conduct myself like a lady. The last thing I want is to embarrass you in any way.” She refused to share what she’d overheard last night at the ball.
“Raven—”
She shook her head and tried not to show the tears falling inside. “It’s better this way. We’ve had a good time, Brax. You’ve taught me so much.” If she ever wanted another man, he’d set the bar incredibly high.
There was pain in the dark eyes holding hers. “Please stay. The other issues don’t matter to me. You’re the woman I want in my life. Stay. Marry me.”
She looked away and closed her eyes to keep her brimming tears from sliding down hercheeks. “I can’t,” she whispered, emotion clogging her throat. “I won’t say you deserve someone better because I know my own value. You deserve someone different. A woman comfortable swimming in your pool.”
“I’d never be ashamed of you, little corvus.”
His nickname twisted in her heart like a knife. “I’d like to think I’d never do anything to bring you shame, Braxton Steele. And I can ensure that if I’m in New Orleans and you’re here.”