Read Day Dreamer for Free Online Page B

carefully.
    “I realize I’m not what you expected, but I can explain …”
    “No need to apologize, mum. It’s a ’ellish night out there. We’d all look like somethin’ the cat dragged in after bein’ out in that storm. The driver should ’ave taken more care to see that you didn’t get so wet.”
    Before she could explain that she was not the expected Miss O’Hurley or make mention of employment, three more men came strolling along the wide hall from the back of the house. Two of them, obviously gentlemen, were tall, blond, young and uncommonly handsome. They halted just inside in the doorway and stared at her curiously. As if that weren’t bad enough, a priest walked in behind them with a glass of red wine in one hand and the last bite of a beignet in the other. He, too, stared.
    Celine stared back at all three of them.
    Edward politely made introductions. “Miss, may I present Stephen and Anton Caldwell? And of course, Father Perez.”
    “Bless you, my dear. Bless you,” the priest said, then washed down the sugared treat with a swallow of wine and belched.
    One of the twins nudged the other with his elbow and whispered. “Go get Cord. I can’t wait to watch his face when he sees this.”
    Celine stiffened and avoided looking at either of the cocky young men. They might be American, but like most of the Creoles she knew, they appeared never to have done a day’s labor in their lives. Good looks meant nothing to her. She had learned that lesson very young, when she had seen the cruelty of some of the handsome men who had paid for her mother’s services. Some of the best-looking had been the most perverse.
    Edward must have sensed her discomfort. “I’ll see you to a room where you can freshen up and change before the ceremony.”
    “
What
ceremony?”
    “This is going to be good,” one of the twins said. He crossed his arms and lounged in the doorway, watching the proceedings with such a sarcastic twist to his lips that Celine wanted to slap it off him.
    His identical match was more sober. “Maybe someone should get Grandfather.”
    “I sent Foster after him,” Edward informed them.
    Celine, wondering who Foster might be, quickly assessed her surroundings. The hall, lined with doors, ran the length of the house. It was toward one of these doors that Edward now led her, the others trailing behind.
    “I would really like to explain,” Celine tried again.
    “I’ll take your cloak, Miss O’Hurley.” Edward paused just inside the door of what appeared to be a grand sitting room.
    “Thank you, no. I’ll keep it for a while if you don’t mind.”
    Celine clutched the cloak tighter. It was of far more worth than what she wore beneath it, far more appropriate to the elegant surroundings.
    She became more uncomfortable when the young gentlemen and the priest joined them in the sitting room. One of the twins took a chair near a rose-colored marble fireplace. The other was content to stand and watch her. The priest looked for a place to set his empty wineglass.
    “I should explain to all of you that I’m not Miss O’Hurley,” she began.
    “Is this the girl?”
    Celine whirled around at the sound of an unfamiliar voice and came face-to-face with a gray-haired older gentleman leaning on an ebony cane. He was dressed entirely in black. His piercing, hawkish, dark eyes were set deep beneath straight black brows.
    “I’m Henre Moreau. I take it you are Thomas O’Hurley’s daughter?” When he looked her up and down as if she were a prime racehorse, Celine hugged the cloak tighter.
    “No, I’m not, but I’d be happy to explain. She couldn’t be here, but when she found out I was longing to leave New Orleans, she insisted I take her carriage. I hoped to find employment outside the city.”
    She tossed a worried glanced in the direction of the priest and then looked up at the silver-haired gentleman again.
    “I’m glad your father warned me ahead of time not to believe a word you said,”