Chapter Seven
Raven loved her cousin Etta, but at the moment wanted her staked out on the anthill next to her other cousins for being so incorrigible. Beautiful babies, indeed. Were Etta thirty years younger, Raven would gladly toss Steele her way, no dice necessary. As for how Etta could determine Steele’s prowess in bed was anyone’s guess, but according to the stories told about Etta’s past, she’d been well loved, too. She’d been a formidable jewel thief back then, one of the best around. In fact, the ruse in San Francisco with the pebbles was something she’d taught Raven.
Raven watched Etta finish helping the man and his daughter with the shoes. After their departure, Etta checked on her other customers before drifting over to where Steele stood in front of the shelves of fabrics. Raven couldn’t hear what they were discussing, but the conversation seemed centered on a bolt of blue fabric he appeared interested in.Something Etta said made him turn and look Raven’s way, and his eyes captured hers. The intensity she saw in them made her remember his heated description of how he’d tame her mouth, and the resulting warmth brought on by his words. The memory rekindled her internal debate about whether to acknowledge an attraction to him or stick to the denial. No matter the outcome or how she felt about his personality and views, he was indeed a gorgeous man, from that rakish beard to his regal bearing. He would indeed sire beautiful children. Etta’s predictions aside, they just wouldn’t be with her, but with someone far more cultured and refined who hadn’t sung on street corners for money at the age of five or begun cleaning houses a few years later. That person would also be able to name her favorite book and not feel shamed for never having read one in its entirety. She looked away, breaking the contact.
She wasn’t ashamed of being nosy though, and so walked over to join them to see what they were about. She reached them as Etta said, “Okay, I’ll ship this to your shop along with your note.”
“Thank you.”
Seeing her, Etta said, “You can bring him around anytime. I’ve been trying to sell this beautiful blue silk for months, but no one’s been able to pay my asking price.”
Raven eyed the midnight blue silk. “It’s very beautiful.”
He nodded in agreement. “I’ve never seen a blue this dark before.”
“What will it become?”
“A gown more than likely. My seamstresses will undoubtedly duel at dawn for the chance to work with a silk this rich. The purchaser will be envied.”
“Possibly your prizewinner?”
He stilled and took her in, in a way that made her so aware of him it was difficult to keep her breath even.
Eyes smoldering, he said quietly, “Maybe I’ll make it for you to wear during dessert.”
She almost fell over.
“No?” he asked, tone playful.
“No,” she somehow managed to toss back.
The smiling Etta chuckled softly. “Yep. Beautiful babies. Let me take this to the counter so I can ready it for shipping, then we’ll get the clothing you’ll be needing for Charleston.”
She left carrying the bolt of silk, while Raven, needing to distance herself from this decidedly seductive man and rein in her heightened senses, turned her attention to the other fabrics on the shelves. There were plain cottons, thin flannels, ticking, and less costly silks in a variety of shades. “What made you decide to become a tailor?”
“It started when I was my grandfather’s cabinboy. One of my duties was to help repair the sails. At first, I was terrible at it, but over time, I grew better. By my third voyage, the crew members were bringing me their shirts, trousers, and other garments to repair, and I found I enjoyed the stitching and making things whole again. I apprenticed for a few years with a tailor in Boston my mother knew, and when my grandfather passed away, I took some of the funds I inherited and opened my shop.”
“One of my younger cousins is an apprentice here in the Quarter.”
“If I can assist him in any way, let me know.”
“You mean that?”
“Yes, Raven, I do. Why would I make the offer if I didn’t?” he asked quietly.
She shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess I don’t see you as the helping sort.”
He looked away, not bothering to hide a small bitter smile. He turned back. “I wish you’d take the time to know the real me. Let me see if Miss Etta’s ready with the clothes.” And he left her standing there.
She watched him stride off. Had she hurt his feelings? He’d spent all day yesterday being judgmental about everything under the sun; how was she supposed to know he had a soft spot? She was torn between wanting to apologize and annoyed at him for making her consider doing so.
She waited with Etta while he tried on the garments behind a screen set up for that purpose. When he was done, he handed Etta the ones he’d settled on. “How much do I owe you?”
“Nothing. After you purchased that silk, I can afford to give them to you at no cost.”
“I’d prefer to pay for them.”
“Are you not listening?”