Bluebeard’s Wives Read online

  Mae Baum

  Bluebeard’s Wives

  First published by Thornfire Publishing 2019

  Copyright © 2019 by Mae Baum

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or otherwise without written permission from the publisher. It is illegal to copy this book, post it to a website, or distribute it by any other means without permission.

  This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

  First edition

  Cover art by Victoria Cooper Art

  This book was professionally typeset on Reedsy

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  Contents

  Bluebeard’s Wives

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Bluebeard’s Wives

  “Is he still out there?” Juan asked, rolling an unlit cigarette between his thick lips. The boss leaned his potbelly against the steel counter, a dirty dishrag draped over a shoulder.

  The stranger had been coming for weeks, in the late evenings, and sitting at the back of the patio. Drinking only wine, the man left plates of untouched food stacked on his table.

  “I think he’s just lonely,” Gina said. It’s a feeling I know well enough. She flipped her blond ponytail back over her shoulder.

  Sheila pushed up on her tiptoes to peer through the small window on the upper part of the door. Her apron dangled over her bird-like legs. “Man, he gives me the creeps.”

  “I don’t mind him,” Gina said, picking up the dish laden with tacos. “He probably doesn’t have anyone or anything to go home to.” I don’t either. Gina frowned. Her rundown, box-like apartment was all she could afford in Atlanta and there wasn’t room for a cat, much less a roommate.

  “Get him on his way,” Juan said gruffly, scraping a fat hand across his chin. “Can’t have him taking that table up all night.”

  Gina nodded, although she knew if she tried, the man would only order another plate. Pushing out the door, Gina glanced toward where the man sat.

  His swirling blue eyes met hers, and she smiled.

  The corners of his full lips turned up, and he raised his wine glass.

  Gina’s grin widened. Momma would have told her to be careful, men like him only want one thing, but Gina didn’t think he meant any harm. Of course, Momma rarely dealt with any man who didn’t come to the bar or live in the trailer park. Momma wouldn’t know anyone as well-dressed and polite as this gentleman.

  He followed her movement across the deck as she brought the food to the couple at table eight. His dark hair and neat beard seemed almost blue under the white string lights that crisscrossed the patio. He wore a gray suit tailored to his athletic body; the crisp white collar of the shirt framed his chiseled face. His skin seemed pale. Must be all the long hours in the office.

  After taking down the order for the family at table two, Gina tucked her stubby pencil behind her ear and dropped her notepad into the pocket of her waist apron.

  “I’ll put your order right in,” she said, heading back toward the kitchen. Her gaze darted to the back table. He was still there, sipping his wine and watching her.

  When she opened the door, the smells of corn tortillas, chili peppers, and burnt grease wafted out into the warm night air. Even though it was September, the Georgia heat lingered into the evening hours.

  Sheila nudged Gina’s shoulder. “How’re your classes?”

  “Great.” Gina grinned. She’d worked hard for her scholarship and loved her classes, even if she had to work nights and weekends to afford living in Atlanta. “We’re reading Shakespeare’s sonnets. They’re fantastic.”

  “Why anyone in their right mind would choose to be a librarian is beyond me.” Sheila raised her dark eyebrows, wrinkling her forehead.

  Gina laughed.

  “Not a librarian yet,” Juan said, jerking his head toward the waiting food.

  * * *

  Just after midnight, Gina stepped out through the tall wooden gate. “Goodnight,” she called back.

  “G’nite,” Juan hollered.

  The streetlights pooled on the cracked sidewalk as Gina headed toward the light rail station at the end of the deserted block. She passed some blooming flowers and sniffed, but all she could smell was chili pepper and grease. Pausing, she dug around in the front pocket of her messenger bag for her transit card. Where is the dang thing? Did I leave it at work?

  Her fingers brushed along the familiar creased edge as a dark limo pulled up along the sidewalk. Gina startled, backing toward the building behind her. Shaking, her fingers released the card and groped for the pepper spray instead. The window slowly rolled down, and she met the storm blue eyes of the man from the back table. He’d followed her?

  “Gina.” His deep, smooth voice rolled over her, and she trembled.

  “You know my name?” Her eyes darted around the quiet, empty street. She glanced back toward the restaurant. Juan was totaling up, so he wouldn’t be leaving for a while.

  A gentle smile stretched the man’s face, and he gestured toward her name tag. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

  Of course, he didn’t. Gina blushed and stared at him, her eyes wide. Her stomach turned over, and she took a couple of deep breaths. She didn’t think aggressors were usually this polite, but she didn’t let go of the pepper spray.

  “I’m Louis.” His eyes pulled her in, swirling in the gray and blue depths. “I only wanted to offer a ride home, but I can see you’re uncomfortable.”

  “Yes,” Gina said slowly. She didn’t know if she was supposed to admit that or not. What’s wrong with me? She shook herself. “I’m taking the train. It’s not far.”

  “Of course.” He perused her, and he quoted, “`Unthrifty loveliness, why dost thou spend, upon thyself thy beauty’s legacy?’”

  His voice filled her mind. The street lights burned brighter and the flowers’ scent invaded her nose. She gasped. “What?”

  He chuckled, warm and low. “The Sonnets.” He gestured to the book peeking out of her bag.

  Gina’s heart tripped. “You’ve read Shakespeare?” A lonely man who read Shakespeare? How more perfect could he be? Gina swayed toward the limo. He wasn’t like Momma’s men; he was cultured.

  “I’ve read a great many things.” His lyrical voice lured her closer. “I have quite an extensive library.”

  She leaned forward. “You have a library?” Gina swallowed.

  The door opened, and he held out a hand. “Come, let me tell you about it.”

  Gina held her breath, staring at his hand. When had she dropped her pepper spray? She rubbed her head. How could she have been nervous with him?

  “I promise to be a perfect gentleman.”

  She released her breath and took his hand, climbing into the limo.

  * * *

  Meeting her by the curb, Louis ferried her home every night that week and they spoke of the books they’d read. The dark confines of the limo created their own little world. Gina was thankful that he played the perfect gentleman as promised although she twitched under his sensual gaze.

  Momma had brought enough men home to their run-down trailer, usually drunk or high, that Gina knew that look. As Gina grew, the men had started to turn their eyes to her and she’d taken to hiding in the closet. Even when boys from school had started asking her out, she’d turned them down one by one, unable to bear their gaze.

  But somehow, when Louis watched her, she didn’t mind.

  “Why’d you choose your major?” he asked.

&nb
sp; “I’ve always loved books.” Gina blushed. “Well, obviously.” How could she tell him that when Momma caught her nose deep in a book during a cookout, she’d hollered that Gina was wasting her youth and beauty? That it only comes around once, so she had better go out and find herself a man? “I’m the odd one in my family.”

  “I’m the only one left in mine,” Louis said quietly.

  “That might be preferable.” Gina grimaced. When her mom’s latest guy had reached over and stroked her leg, she knew then that she had to get out. That home wasn’t safe for her anymore.

  She glanced up at Louis’s face. “I’m sorry though, for your losses.”

  “It’s all right,” he said. “It was a long time ago.”

  Gina reached out and squeezed his hand. He seemed so much older than his thirty-something years.

  * * *

  The following week, when Louis offered to show her his library, she squealed and hugged him. Her nose filled with the spicy scent of his cologne as she buried her face in his silk shirt.

  He stroked her hair and a shiver slid down her back. Gina tensed, holding her breath. But this was Louis. Somehow he seemed to melt away all her reserve, and she wanted more than she’d ever wanted. She exhaled.

  “I’ll send the car for you on Saturday,” he whispered in her ear. His thumb traced the edge of her neck, and her heart fluttered.

  “Oh, Louis!” Warmth uncurled in her stomach. He was unlike any man she had ever met. She’d known that, if she waited, someday her Heathcliff would show up.

  He kissed her gently on the forehead and then patted the seat. “Let’s get you home.”

  Gina’s eyebrows drew together. Why was he dismissing her? Didn’t he think she was a real woman? “Don’t you like me that way?”

  “Modern woman,” he growled. A grin spread across his face, and he yanked her to him. His deep kiss sent shockwaves through her whole body.

  * * *

  On Saturday afternoon, the limo pulled to a stop at the curb. She’d worn her best, a pale blue sundress worn thin before she’d bought it at the thrift store. She’d carefully done her makeup. Her blond hair was piled on her head in an attempt at sophistication.

  She’d been so confident stepping into the limo, but now, peering out the window, Gina stared at the tall, white columns that seemed to reach for the sky. Gina had never seen a house so enormous; it was bigger than the campus buildings where she took her classes. Brushing imaginary lint off her dress, her cheeks burned. How could she be seeing a man who owned all this? It was a long way from the trailer park. She knew he was rich, but this was way more than she’d ever imagined.

  The chauffeur opened the door, and she stepped out onto the hot sidewalk. The cool of the air conditioning faded immediately in the Georgia sun. Sweltering heat washed over her and sweat sprung up on her back.

  Reluctantly, Gina climbed the steps. I’m an invited guest, she reminded herself as she approached the white double door with the large brass knocker. It was shaped like a lion with a ring through his gaping mouth. She reached for the ring and the door swung open.

  A suited man held the door open. “Welcome, Miss Gina, we’ve been expecting you.”

  Gina’s heart squeezed. She didn’t belong here. She wanted to turn and run down the steps, but she plucked up her courage and stepped inside.

  Despite the big windows on the house and the bright sunshine outside, the interior seemed dim. Her eyes took a moment to adjust. The foyer led to two large staircases that swept up to the second floor and a crystal chandelier dangled above.

  Why is it so dark? She peered at the high windows, just making out the gauzy curtains that dampened the light filtering in. Odd.

  The butler closed the door behind her, and she jumped at the sound. Her gaze slipped around the room, taking in the heavy old furniture and a light coating of dust. Her eyebrows drew together.

  Louis stepped out from a side room. “Gina! So glad you are here.”

  His energy swept over her and she relaxed. This was her Louis. She smiled. He grasped her hands and pulled her deeper into the house. The elegant furnishings swept by, but she only had eyes for him until he opened the door at the end of the hall.

  The book-lined walls of the library rose around her. A colorful variety of books sat on the dark wood shelves; antique leather-bounds stood next to modern paperbacks. While the long windows were covered with green velvet drapes, recessed lighting and round lamps lit the space and a pair of oversized armchairs looked inviting. Two circular staircases rose in the middle of the room, leading to the second and the third tier. Her mouth dropped open, and she spun in a circle, her skirt floating around her. “It’s beautiful.”

  “Take as many as you like,” he said as her fingers lingered on the spines.

  Gina grinned and pulled down book after book. “You have all my favorites and more.”

  Louis chuckled. “Gathering favorites is one of my specialties.”

  He carried her books to a fluffy armchair. She settled in, tucking her skirts around her and started reading. “Would you like tea?”

  She glanced up at him. “Oh, yes, please.”

  Gina read all afternoon. Louis hand-delivered jasmine tea and small almond scones, even though she was sure he had servants for that sort of thing.

  Late in the evening, he invited her to dinner. Real hunger that couldn’t be satisfied by scones and tea was the only thing that tore her away from the precious books. That, and Louis’s promise that she could come back any time she desired.

  He led her up another flight of stairs and out onto the balcony. A round table was set with service for two, along with lit candles and a fragrant bouquet of white roses. She shivered in the cooler night air, and he swept a shawl around her shoulders. His fingers lingered along her neck, stroking, and a different kind of shiver spread through her.

  Sliding into the chair he pulled out, she licked her lips at the fluffy rolls in front of her. The sweet cream butter melted in her mouth. Perfectly grilled lemon chicken and a salad that was so fresh it must have been picked that day. Somehow he’d guided her through the whole meal without making her feel like an idiot. His subtle cues had let her know which fork was for the salad and what knife to use for the butter.

  “Prosecco,” he said, filling their glasses. “It’s an Italian sparkling wine.”

  She smiled at him. “You’re amazing.”

  He inclined his head. “And you are lovely, my dear.”

  They sipped their Prosecco silently. Then, he snapped his fingers and classical music filled the balcony like magic. He stood and bowed to her. “May I have this dance?”

  She laughed. “Of course.” Taking her hand, he swung her into a waltz. Gina had never danced before, but he somehow made it easy. Louis made everything easy.

  The stars struggled to peek through the smog-filled skies above them. As if they, too, wanted everything to be perfect.

  * * *

  Gina woke in a tangle of blankets on an elegant four-poster bed. Her eyebrows drew together as she looked around the unfamiliar room.

  Where am I? Sitting up, she swung her legs over the edge of the bed and looked down at the white nightgown that covered her body.

  She thought back over the events of yesterday—the library, the dinner, the dancing, but she didn’t remember anything after that.

  Why hadn’t she gone home? The wine must have gone to her head and she’d passed out. Warmth flooded her cheeks. What an idiot he must think her. Passing out after a little wine.

  She stretched her arms out and rubbed her sore neck. Must have slept on it wrong. The smooth cotton of the nightgown slid along her legs. Who’d changed her clothes? A maid? Louis? Her cheeks got even hotter. She looked around but she was all alone. Biting her lip, she searched her memory but after the dancing, the evening was a blank. She hoped they hadn’t done anything. No, Louis wouldn’t. He’d been so sweet to her.

  Gina sighed. At least she didn’t have anywhere to be this morning
. She slid off the bed and her feet landed in the thick blue carpeting. The sunlight streaming in the glass doors beckoned her, and she strode over and flung them open. The warm breeze slid over her and she sighed.

  A knock sounded at the door. “Come in,” she called.

  The door opened and a rotund woman pushed a rolling cart ahead of her into the room. Glancing up, her round face broke into a wide grin. “I’ve your breakfast for you here, dearie.”

  Gina’s stomach rumbled, and she smiled back at the woman. She felt like a fairy tale princess, with a castle and servants and an enormous library. “Can I eat it on the balcony?”

  “Of course,” the woman said, pushing the cart across the thick carpeting. She set out a full breakfast of eggs, toast, and berries on the wrought-iron table. “Coffee or tea?”

  “Coffee. Thank you.” Gina sat down and stared at the food. “Is Louis up yet?”

  Pouring out a cup, the woman laughed. “No, dearie. Not yet.” She pushed the cart back out the door and closed it behind her.

  Gina dug into the food. The scrambled eggs were perfect, light and fluffy, and the berries tasted like they’d just been picked. After breakfast, she took a luxurious bath in the giant tub and put on her dress from the night before. If Louis still wasn’t up, she might as well go explore the library some more.

  * * *

  Curled up in Louis’s library chair, Gina looked up when a shadow fell across her book. “Louis!”

  A lazy smile stretched across his face.

  Her lips parted as she met his blue eyes. They burned like the hottest part of a flame. Her heartbeat echoed in her ears.

  “I’m glad to see you’ve made yourself at home.” His voice flooded her. “Did Mrs. Peterson see to your needs?”

  Her mind blanked, and she blinked up at him. What had she been doing?

  “Yes,” she said breathily. Joy laced through her; she’d made him happy. “It’s wonderful.”

  Taking a steadying breath, she gestured toward the books. So many more than she could read in a single lifetime. “Your family must have been collecting them for generations.”