Double Deception

  Copyright

  ISBN 1-59310-121-X

  Copyright © 2004 by Lena Nelson Dooley. All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical, or other means, now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the permission of Truly Yours, an imprint of Barbour Publishing, Inc., PO Box 719, Uhrichsville, Ohio 44683.

  Our mission is to publish and distribute inspirational products offering exceptional value and biblical encouragement to the masses.

  All Scripture quotations are taken from the King James Version of the Bible.

  All of the characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or to actual events is purely coincidental.

  One

  July 1895

  “This is the town.” Pierre Le Blanc leaned toward Clarissa Voss, who shared the front seat of the surrey with him. A gentle breeze ruffled the fringe that decorated the roof of the carriage, bringing welcome relief from the summer heat.

  “What’s so special about this place?” The young woman glanced around. The town seemed nice enough, but nothing made it stand out from the others they’d visited. And they’d visited many over the years. “Oh, look. An ice cream parlor.” She started to point, then remembered it wasn’t polite. So many things her mother had taught her were drifting out of her life, no matter how hard she tried to hold on to them.

  Pierre frowned at her. “You must remember, Rissa”—he emphasized the name—“that you have been here before. This is where you had that lovely ensemble made.”

  Clarissa looked down at the claret-colored silk. It had more ruffles and flounces than she liked, but it was one of the most fashionable dresses she had worn in a long time. It reminded her of the clothing she and her sister wore before their mother died. Barely realizing what she was doing, she picked at the ruffles on the skirt as she looked up again.

  They were turning from the street that ran beside the railroad tracks onto a thoroughfare leading through the middle of downtown Litchfield. If anyone had told her four years ago that she would go to Minnesota, she would have laughed and asked where Minnesota was. She never was good in geography, and New Orleans was so far from here—in more ways than one.

  Clarissa wished for the quiet streets around their family home. It was situated far from the busy part of town, far from the French Quarter. She longed to hear the soft Southern drawl that had filled the air with a familiar melody. The farther north they moved, the more clipped the speech became. She sighed, longing to see her mother again. If only that were possible.

  Pierre stopped the wagon in front of a store with a large sign emblazoned across the top story of the building. Braxton’s Mercantile. Clarissa looked at the brightly colored words with fanciful letters and curlicues. Her gaze dropped to the windows filled with merchandise. All kinds of merchandise. Then her attention was drawn to the window at the far end.

  The words Dress Emporium were painted on the glass, but they didn’t obstruct the view of the window with its lacy sheer curtains held open by ruffled tiebacks. In the center of the window stood a form displaying an ensemble that included a hat. The chapeau rested on the shoulders of a beautiful, but simple, elegant gown in a lovely shade of blue, and an ostrich feather in the same hue was draped around the brim of the hat. Clarissa knew she would look good in that ensemble. She liked the simpler lines of the garment, and the color would bring out the sky blue of her eyes. She could imagine herself with her abundant black curls pulled up in an elaborate style with a long curl hanging down one side against the soft fabric of the dress. The hat would rest atop the hairstyle, and the wide brim would protect her creamy complexion from the sun. She would feel like a Southern belle again in that dress and hat—instead of what she had become.

  “Is that where you had this dress made?” She glanced at the man who shared the seat with her.

  Pierre looked at the store before he answered. “Yes.” He climbed down from the surrey and came around to help her alight. “We told you all about the people and what transpired when we were here.”

  Clarissa pulled her light cape closer around her. The breeze felt cooler, and the dress bared her shoulders. The ensemble would be more appropriate for a party than day wear. “Is there any way we could buy the dress and hat displayed in the window of the Dress Emporium?” She was surprised she had the courage to voice the question running through her mind.

  Pierre frowned. He jingled the coins in his pocket as if counting how many he had. He always did that when they talked about money. “I suppose it would be good business. But we won’t purchase it if it’s too expensive. Just try not to seem too interested. Remember—that always drives the price up.”

  Pierre drew Clarissa’s hand through the crook of his arm, and they sauntered into the cool recesses of the mercantile. Clarissa blinked her eyes at the bright light inside. It had looked dark from the outside, but gaslights were scattered along the four walls. She was amazed by the abundance of the merchandise displayed there. They hadn’t frequented a store with such a wide variety in a long time. Perhaps this wasn’t such a backwater town after all. They wandered around the store and browsed through the items. Soon they reached the open doorway that led to the dress shop.

  Pierre looked around the room until he spotted a tall young woman with dark brown hair piled on top of her head in an almost haphazard manner. “Good afternoon, Miss Jenson.”

  The woman turned toward them. “Hello, Mr. Le Blanc, Rissa. When did you get back in town?”

  Pierre removed Clarissa’s hand from the crook of his arm and moved closer to Miss Jenson.

  Anna, Clarissa thought. They said her name is Anna.

  “We’ve just arrived.” He turned toward Clarissa. “Come, Rissa—say hello to Miss Jenson.”

  The woman held out her hand to Clarissa. “Remember, I told you to call me Anna. How lovely you look in that dress.”

  Clarissa took the proffered hand and gave it a dainty shake. “Yes. Thank you—Anna.”

  Pierre hovered near the woman. She moved away then and walked behind the counter that spread across the back of the room.

  “How may I help you?”

  Pierre followed her and leaned on the counter. Clarissa hated the way he flirted with almost every attractive woman they met.

  “We’ll be in Litchfield longer this time, and I’d rather not stay at the hotel. I want Rissa to be in a better, more homey environment. Do you have any suggestions?” He paused, and when Anna didn’t say anything he continued. “Are there any good boardinghouses in town? Maybe in a quiet neighborhood?”

  Anna lifted a bolt of fabric from the counter and placed it on a shelf behind her. Clarissa got the feeling she was trying to move away from Pierre. And Clarissa didn’t blame her. If only she could put a lot of distance between herself and Pierre. Oh, if only Mother hadn’t died.

  Anna turned back around. For a moment, she looked as if she were thinking. “The only boardinghouse I know of is the one Mrs. Olson runs.” She picked up another bolt of fabric and fussed with it. “When Mr. Olson died, she was left alone in a large two-story house. So she opened the boardinghouse. That might meet your needs. It’s on the residential side of town.”

  “It sounds perfect.” Pierre inched down the counter closer to where Anna stood. “You’ve been so helpful, just as you were when we were here before.”

  Anna turned to place the bolt on the shelf beside the others. Clarissa walked around the room. The shop carried a lot of accessory items. She noticed a display of lacy white gloves arranged attractively on a small table.

  “These are lovely.” Clarissa picked up one and pulled it on her left hand. It
fit perfectly.

  “Olina Nilsson crocheted them.” Anna glided around the end of the counter and across the room toward Clarissa. “She’s staying home with her two children, and this gives her an outlet for her creative abilities.” She picked up the other glove. “Here, try them both on.”

  Pierre had worked his way around the room to the window display. “Rissa, this dress is lovely. How do you like it?”

  Before Clarissa could respond, Anna said, “I tried to get you to use that color when you were here before, but you said you weren’t fond of it. I knew it would look good on you with your coloring.”

  Clarissa inspected the garment. White crocheted lace outlined the neckline. “These gloves would go so well with that dress, wouldn’t they—Father?” How she hated calling him that, but he insisted she use that form of address when they were in public.

  Pierre looked at her from under hooded eyelids. Clarissa could tell he didn’t like her hesitation, and she knew she would hear about it when they were alone, but she didn’t care. She was so tired of this charade. If only it could end—but there seemed little hope of that.

  He turned toward Anna and gave her a warm smile. “Do you think this would fit Rissa?”

  “Yes, I made it soon after you left, and the measurements are very close to hers.” Anna smoothed an imaginary wrinkle on the back of the dress.

  “Then we’ll take it and the hat—and the gloves.”

  Anna was smiling when she turned around. She led the way to the counter and started to write the sales slip while Pierre pulled his wallet from his pocket.

  ❧

  “Anna, where do you want me to put this?” Ollie Jenson, Anna’s brother, called to her as he came through the opening to the workroom, carrying a rocking chair.

  “Over there by the window.” She gestured toward a spot.

  Ollie looked around the back of the chair and saw two people silhouetted against the light from the window. As he drew closer to them, he realized it was Mr. Le Blanc and his daughter. He remembered her being standoffish when they were there before. His brother, Lowell, had said she wasn’t that way at all, but that’s how she was around him.

  “Look who’s here.” Anna nodded toward the couple.

  “Mr. Le Blanc.” Ollie spoke to the man while he set the chair near the window; then he glanced toward the woman. “Miss Le Blanc.”

  For an instant it seemed to Ollie as if she winced. But why would she wince when he spoke to her? Then her eyes lighted up with such a dazzling smile that it almost took his breath away. The warmth in that look touched something deep inside him. He should have tried to get to know her better during their previous visit.

  Mr. Le Blanc had flirted shamelessly with Anna on his last trip. The first time he met her, he’d kissed her hand in a regal manner. Ollie decided he could be just as regal as Mr. Le Blanc. He looked into Rissa’s eyes and gently took her hand in his. He lifted it to his lips and placed a light kiss on her fingertips. He was pleased to see a blush stain her cheeks—and relieved she didn’t rebuff him. He must have misunderstood when he met her before. How could he have ever thought this exquisite creature was standoffish? Lowell was right; she was friendly and intriguing. Mr. Le Blanc’s voice penetrated his thoughts.

  “Anna, please join Rissa and me for dinner. We could take you to the restaurant in the hotel.”

  Anna looked startled. The man was asking her out. It was sure to set August Nilsson off again. August had been terribly jealous of the man on the last visit. Later, he and Anna had worked everything out, and now they were planning their wedding.

  “Thank you for the kind invitation, Mr. Le Blanc.” Anna stepped around a table and started rearranging the stack of gloves. “My fiancé and I will be dining with his family tonight.”

  Now the man looked startled. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you were engaged.”

  “That’s all right, Mr. Le Blanc.” Anna smiled at him. “August and I have just recently decided to get married. You couldn’t have known. Now let’s get these items wrapped up for you.”

  She went to the window display and removed the hat and dress. Ollie had liked that dress ever since Anna and Gerda finished it. It would look good on Miss Le Blanc. He hoped he would have a chance to see her in it. He wished it could be when he escorted her to one of the frequent socials, but they probably wouldn’t be staying long enough for that to happen. A man could hope, though.

  Ollie watched Le Blanc while Anna finished the sale. Something about that man made Ollie uncomfortable. He wasn’t sure what it was. He decided to make an effort to get to know the Le Blancs better, especially Rissa. He definitely didn’t sense anything wrong with her.

  Ollie left the shop and headed out of town to the farm. Once there he sought out Lowell, who was working in the barn. “You’ll never guess who I just saw in town.”

  Lowell looked up from the horse he was currying. “So why don’t you tell me, instead of keeping me guessing?”

  He was always so serious. Ollie often told him he should take time to have more fun. Ollie picked up a currying comb and went into the stall adjoining the one where his brother was busy. He set to work on the palomino while he talked. “You remember earlier in the summer when that Le Blanc family came to town?”

  “Sure.” Lowell stopped and leaned his arms on the half wall that divided the enclosures. “What about them?”

  “They were in the dress shop when I took the rocker to Anna.” Ollie stood and looked his brother in the eyes. “I believe you’re right about Miss Le Blanc. She was much friendlier today.”

  Lowell frowned. “What do you mean, friendlier?”

  “I don’t know. I had the impression she was glad to see me.”

  “So?”

  “So you were right.” Ollie returned to currying the horse. “But I don’t think I like her father.”

  Lowell looked thoughtful. “I never did warm up to him myself. What did he do today?”

  The horse stamped its hoof, and Ollie had to move to keep his own foot from being stepped on. “He asked Anna if he could take her to dinner at the hotel.”

  Lowell raised his brows. “That’s not a good idea.”

  “Oh, Anna set him straight. She told him she and August are going to be married. Le Blanc didn’t seem to like that a bit.”

  Lowell put his hands in the back pockets of his jeans. He rocked up on the balls of his feet then down again. “I never felt at ease around that man. It’s too bad Rissa is kin to him. I wouldn’t mind knowing her better.”

  Ollie didn’t like what his brother said. He wanted that privilege himself. When he and Lowell were younger, they used to wrestle, trying to see who was stronger. Since becoming adults, they’d been best friends as well as brothers. But right now, Ollie wanted to punch him. Where had that thought come from? What was happening to him? Surely that little filly with the black hair and blue eyes couldn’t come between them. A picture crept into his thoughts. A warm smile with twinkling eyes. Cheeks stained with a becoming blush.

  This could be a real problem.

  Two

  Soon after Ollie left the dress shop, August Nilsson arrived. Anna studied her hands for a moment before she began rearranging the items on the counter. Clarissa wondered why she appeared so nervous, then she remembered Pierre telling her August was jealous of him on their other trip. The big man looked muscular—and nice. She couldn’t blame him for being jealous. Pierre was up to no good. He left one or more broken hearts in every town they exited. Even after such a short time, Clarissa liked Anna Jenson. She was glad a man like August was going to marry her. They looked good together with his blond handsomeness and her dark coloring.

  “August.” Anna hurried from behind the counter and took his arm when he entered. “Look who’s come back to town.”

  The two men eyed each other for a moment, and the air crackled with tension; then August stepped forward and extended his hand. “It’s good to see you, Le Blanc.”

  Pierre hesitate
d a moment, then reached out. After all, it wasn’t good for his business to antagonize anyone this early in the game. He clasped August’s hand and smiled. She wondered why no one besides her could tell how insincere that smile was. The only time he gave a real smile was when he was counting his ill-gotten gains. She didn’t want him hurting these people. If only she could do something about it—but she hadn’t even figured out a way to escape from his clutches herself. Oh, she had dreamed about it often enough. Either she escaped, or someone rescued her, but those dreams were like the fairy tales her mother used to read to her. They weren’t real.

  August turned toward her, and Clarissa smiled. She never wanted to use people the way Pierre did. She hoped he could see her smile was sincere.

  August smiled at her warmly. “And I’m glad you’re back, Rissa. Are you staying in town long?”

  Pierre stepped behind her. He placed his hands on her shoulders and gripped—hard. When she tried in an unobtrusive way to pull away, he wouldn’t let go. She might as well stand still. It would hurt less. But she didn’t like his touching her, whether he was hurting her or not.

  “Actually, we want to spend the rest of the summer here.” Pierre was so close, his breath moved tendrils of her hair. It was all she could do to keep from shivering in disgust. “Maybe longer.”

  Anna clasped August’s hand and looked up into his face. “Pierre and Rissa don’t want to live in the hotel. Do you think Mrs. Olson has any vacant rooms?”

  August smiled at Anna. Clarissa hoped someone would look at her like that someday, but with the way they lived their lives, it was unlikely. Her mother would roll over in her grave if she knew what Pierre had done since she died. This was not the life Mother had wanted for her daughters.

  “Yes. Just yesterday a family moved out. Their house had burned, and they lived in the boardinghouse while it was rebuilt. Mrs. Olson said something at breakfast about cleaning up those rooms today. She was wondering where she would find more boarders.” August turned toward Pierre. “Maybe you’re the answer to her prayers.”