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“I don’t.”
“Are you part pirate, too?”
Embarrassment heated her cheeks.
“Do you like his kisses?”
“That’s none of your business.”
“Before he arrives, maybe you’ll have a chance to compare.”
“You’re supposed to be on your best behavior.”
“I’ll be on my very best behavior, when I kiss you,cheri. Promise.”
Thinking she may swoon, she wondered how serious her injuries might be if she fell off the horse. “You’re outrageous.”
“No. I’m a son of the House of LeVeq.”
She chuckled. “Tell me about your house. What will you be working on today?”
“The ironwork for my gazebo. It will resemble Mama’s, but I may put on an iron roof instead of the wooden one she has on hers.”
“Where did you learn your skills?”
“Originally from an African man who’d been sold into slavery here. His master let him hire himself out and he eventually made enough money to buy his freedom. I was his apprentice for two and a half years.”
“How old were you when you began the apprenticeship?”
“Twelve. I lived in his shop for the first year, but he didn’t let me near the forge for the first six months. Instead, I fetched and carried, swept up, and watched while he worked. In the evenings after the shop closed for the day, he’d lecture me on the things that went into being a smith: the African traditions, different methods of working the iron, how to vary the temperatures of the fire. Once he was convinced I had the necessary reverence and knowledge he began my lessons.”
She glanced at his scarred hands and ran a finger over one of the larger scars. “Is that where all this comes from?”
“Some. Some come from carpentry. Others are simply from being a LeVeq with five brothers.”
She smiled his way.
He met her gaze and said, “If you do leave New Orleans, I’m keeping your smile so I can pull it out and look at it whenever I think of you.”
Val scanned his face, expecting to see teasing amusement. Instead, his solemn eyes met hers for a brief heart-piercing moment before turning to the road.
When they reached the tall iron gate that led onto his brother’s property, five smiling children came running to meet them, shouting, “Uncle Drake! Uncle Drake!” Having met Sable’s children at the Christophe, Valinda assumed these were some of the orphans. They appeared to be no older than seven years of age and their beaming smiles showed Uncle Drake to be a favorite acquaintance. He greeted them each by name and asked how they were faring. They replied with tales of tadpole catching and who won the footrace yesterday and being allowed to stay up late last night to look at the moon.
“Who’s she?” a little boy with missing front teeth asked, while he and the others walked happily beside the big stallion.
“This is Miss Valinda.”
“She your lady?” one of the girls asked.
He laughed. “No. She’s going to be your new schoolteacher.”
Val saw the young faces evaluating her in light of the new information.
“Are you mean?” a boy asked.
“No,” Val replied.
“Good. Uncle Rai made a teacher leave because he yelled at us all the time.”
