"Ah, so here is where La Ruby hides herself," he said. I spun around. He stood there with his hands on his hips, looking over the studio and nodding. He had changed into a pair of dark gray wool slacks and a shirt made of the softest white Egyptian cotton. "Very nice. And that looks like it's going to be a pretty picture," he said, gazing at my easel.

"It's too soon to tell," I replied modestly.

"Well, I'm no art critic, but I know the value of good art on the market, of course." He focused his gaze intently on me for a moment and then smiled and stepped closer. "I was hoping to have a short tête-à-tête with both you and Gisselle today. I've already spoken to your sister, who has begged me to use my influence with Daphne to permit her to remain and return to public school here in New Orleans. Apparently, if I win her that favor, she will accept me into the family with open arms.

"And now," he said, inching toward me, "what can I do to win the same acceptance from you?"

"I have no requests for anything for myself, but if you want to do something to please me, get Daphne to move Uncle Jean back into his private room."

"Ah ha, a selfless demand. You are what you seem to be after all, aren't you, La Ruby? . . . A spotless jewel, genuine, virtuous. Are you as innocent as you appear, as innocent as the flowers and animals in your pictures?"

"I'm no angel, Bruce, but I don't like to see anyone in unnecessary pain, and that's what Uncle Jean is in right now. If you want to do something good, help him."

He smiled and reached out to touch my hair. I cringed and started to step back, but he put his hand on my arm just above the elbow.

"You and Gisselle are twins," he said in a voice barely above a whisper, "but a man would have to be blind not to see the differences. I'd like to be someone you can love and trust. You know, I've always admired you, La Ruby. But you've been tossed from one world to another, and just when you needed a true guardian, you lost him. Will you let me be your guardian, your protector and champion? I'm a man of great taste. I can make you into the princess you deserve to be. Trust me," he said, raising his hand to my shoulder. He was so close I could see the tiny beads of sweat over his upper lip and smell the aroma of the last cigar he smoked. He held me firmly in his grasp and then brought his lips to my forehead. I heard him inhale as he took in the scent of my hair. I let him embrace me, but I didn't return his affection.

"That's all right," he said, feeling my stiffness and stepping back. "I don't blame you for being cautious. I'm the new man in your life and you don't really know all that much about me. But I intend to spend as much time with you as you will permit so we can get to know each other as intimately as possible. Will that be all right?"

"You're my stepmother's new husband-to-be," I said, as if that were enough of an answer.

He nodded. "I'll speak to Daphne. Maybe I can find a sensible financial arrangement and get her to do what you want. I can't make promises, but I'll try for you."

"Thank you."

"La Ruby," he said with that deep, licentious smile on his lips. He looked around again. "You have a nice hideaway. After I've married Daphne, perhaps you will let me share it with you from time to time, n'est-ce pas?"

I nodded, even though I detested the thought.

"Good," he said. "We're going to be a wonderful family, even more highly respected than we are now, and you and your sister will be the crème de la crème of New Orleans. That's a promise," he said. "I'll let you go back to your wonderful work. We'll speak later."

I watched him leave and then sat down because my heart was still thumping so hard, I thought I might faint.

Despite Bruce's promise, nothing more was said about Uncle Jean during the days between Christmas and New Year's Eve. Feeling trapped by Daphne's offer, I tried on a number of occasions to get Gisselle to reconsider her demand to remain in New Orleans.

"You've made new friends, and they all look up to you and depend on you now," I told her just before we were about to go to sleep. It was the night before New Year's Eve. "You're their leader."

"You can have that honor," she replied.

"But think of what you can do now that you'll be walking. And there's the Valentine's dance coming up too."

"Peachy. The Valentine's dance. Don't get too close and don't hold hands too long. And just when you get to meet someone, you have to say goodbye. And that stupid curfew, even on the weekends."

"Daphne's going to permit us to go off the campus. We'll meet boys in the city."

"You wouldn't do that," she said. "You're too head over heels in love with Beau. Wait a minute." She scrutinized me with her suspicious eyes. "Why are you trying to get me to go back to Greenwood? What's going on?"

"Whenever you want, I'll take trips into Baton Rouge with you," I promised, ignoring her question.

"There's more to this, Ruby. What is it? You better tell me. One thing's for sure, I'll never go back if you don't tell me the truth."

I sighed and leaned back against her door jamb.

"I asked Daphne to move Uncle Jean back to his private room. He's nothing more than a vegetable now. He's lost all desire to live, to communicate. He's retreated into his own world."

"So what? He was nuts anyway."

"He wasn't. He was making progress. If he had a loving family around him again . . ."

"Oh, stop being Miss Goody Two-Shoes. What does that have to do with my returning to Greenwood?"

"Daphne said if I got you to go back, she would return Uncle Jean to his room."

"I thought there was something behind your sweet-talk. Well, you can forget it," she said, turning away to look at herself in her vanity mirror. "I'm not going back to Greenwood. Right now I'm enjoying John, and I don't intend to give him up just so my crazy uncle can have his own room in a nut house." She smiled. "Daphne's going to let me stay for sure then. She doesn't want me to upset the apple cart. Good. Thanks for telling me."

"Gisselle . . ."

"I said I'm not going back. That's final," she hammered. "Now stop thinking about sad things and help me plan out our New Year's Eve party. I've invited nearly twenty friends. Claudine and Antoinette are coming over to help decorate the living room tomorrow. For refreshment, I thought we'd have those twelve-foot po'boy sandwiches. We'll work up a fruit punch and wait until Daphne and Bruce leave. Then we'll spike it with rum. What do you think?"

"I don't care," I said glumly.

"You better not be a lump of swamp mud around here tomorrow night. I'm warning you not to spoil the fun."

"That's the last thing in the world I would want to do, Gisselle, spoil your fun. Heaven forbid," I spit out, then left her room before I pulled out each and every strand of hair on her head.


16

  A Brave Front

Despite my gloomy feelings, I tried not to walk about with downcast eyes and let everyone know just how unhappy I was. Gisselle's friends were very excited about the New Year's Eve party, and I had never seen Daphne so friendly and outgoing toward them. She came into the living room in the afternoon and made suggestions for the decorating. Of course, all the girls were in awe of her. I could see from the way they gazed at her that they thought she was akin to a movie star: beautiful, rich, elegant, and full of style.

But Gisselle kept herself the center of attention, revealing the miraculous recovery of her limbs and promising to dance for the first time since the accident. She got Edgar to bring in a ladder and then had the girls string streamers from one side of the ceiling to the other. They blew up balloons and placed them in a net to be released at midnight. While they worked, they gossiped about the boys who would be attending the party, and Gisselle described the girls of Greenwood, bragging about the things she had taught them concerning sex and boys. From time to time, she shifted her eyes toward me to see if I would contradict her, but I was barely listening after a while.

I was looking forward to spending the evening with Beau. I took my time choosing my dress and settled on a strapless black velvet gown with a deep, sweetheart neckline. The dress fit snugly at the waist and then had a full skirt that ended about six inches above my ankles. I had planned to wear a string of pearls around my neck but decided at the last minute simply to wear Beau's chain and ring, excited by the way the gleaming jewelry heightened that part of my bosom and cleavage. When I closed my eyes, I could almost feel his fingers softly gliding down, over my collarbone toward my breasts.

I put on a pair of delicate gold and pearl hoop earrings and decided to wear the ring that Louis had given me. Gisselle and I had each been given half a dozen different perfumes. I chose one that suggested the fresh aroma of blossoming roses. I had decided to wear my hair down but pinned back at the sides. My bangs needed a bit of trimming and I smiled to myself, recalling how Grandmère Catherine used to do it for me and even sit talking to me for what seemed like hours and hours while she brushed my long ruby hair, telling me again and again how she used to do the same thing for my mother.

Gisselle surprised me by choosing a dress similar to mine in dark blue. She bedecked herself with far more jewelry, wearing two strings of pearls, long dangling pearl earrings, a gold bracelet on one wrist and Bruce's charm bracelet Christmas gift on the other, as well as half a dozen rings spaced over her two hands. She wore a gold anklet as well. She left her hair down as well, not even pinning the sides, and she had caked on makeup, eyeliner, and lipstick so thick, she could kiss for hours before reaching her skin.