Chapter 9

“There’s quite a lot to tell,” Andre said. “Are you sure you’re not getting sleepy. It could wait.”

She moved her fingers gently throught the hair on his chest and kissed him again. “No, I want to talk – at least I want to listen to you talk. Besides, after I start work at the Juttisons’ school, I don’t know when I we can have another night together – just the two of us. I don’t think I could sleep anyway with you so close.”

“Let me know if you get bored.”

“Don’t be silly. You won’t bore me. Aren’t you awfully young to be in the legislature?”

“I suppose so, but I’m qualified I think. I have a bachelor of arts degree from LSU and I’ll finish law school in another year.”

“Still, that doesn’t seem like enough to get you elected – not at twenty-four.”

I guess it wouldn’t be for someone who wasn’t a Beauxyeaux. I was actually elected when I was 22. My father, Clement Beauxyeaux held the seat for 20 years, until he died. Being his son was enough to get me elected to replace him.”

“What do you do for a living? I mean, the legislature doesn’t pay well enough to live on what they give you – and you seem to live pretty well – not that it’s any of my business.”

He smiled. "I have enough to live on without working actually, although I’d go crazy–and maybe fuck myself to death – if I didn’t have something to keep me busy – besides the plantation that is.”

“Plantation?”

“Belle Fourche. It’s on the west bank between here and New Orleans.”

“It belongs to you?”

“Well, to my family, but I have control of it although I share part of the income with my mother – as long as she lives – and with my sister Camille and her family.”

“Not with Denise?”

“She’s not part of the family–at least not that side of my family.”

“What do you mean? I know she has a different mother, but she had the same father didn’t she? How does she get left out?”

“Her mother was my father’s mistress – at least one of them – but they were not married although they had three children together. My father provided for them separately.”

“What about Pierre in Baton Rouge. Is he one of their children? No, wait, I already know he’s not. Denise told me he had a different mother from both of you.”

“Yes, that’s right. You see, my father was born in a time when it was common for a white man to have a mistress among the demimonde. Do you understand what that is?”

“I think so. They are light-skinned colored people. I’ve heard they have a very exclusive society in New Orleans.”

“That’s right. My father had mistresses both here and in Baton Rouge. Pierre’s mother was the one in the capital.”

“It sounds very complicated. How did he manage to keep it quiet.”

“There was not much need to keep it quiet. It was so common, no one thought much about it and certainly it was not something we talked about – at least not around my mother.”

“But she knew about the other women – and their children?”

Andre shrugged. “It’s just the way things are–or rather the way things were. Times have begun to change.”

“I don’t think I’d like know that my husband had families and children with other women.”

“Perhaps it would have been different if men and their wives had the same freedoms in making love that they had with their mistresses.” He touched one of Claire’s breasts and gently cupped it with his hand. “If they really wanted wild sex, they had to find a mulatta woman to indulge it,” he said.

“Then Denise is colored? That’s seems hard to believe. She’s dark, but she doesn’t look like a black woman.”

“She’ got very little black blood. Her grandmother had a black father, so she’s only one-sixteenth colored. That’s not enough to make much difference if she lived anywhere except New Orleans. She could pass for white if she wanted to anywhere else.”

“Then why doesn’t she move?”

“I think she rather likes her life here and is quite happy with her place in society. She’s at the very top of her world. Why should she go somewhere else and be a nobody.”

“She certainly lives well. Is she rich? She said something about a patron. I think she said he was your mother’s brother. Is she your uncle’s mistress?”

“Yes, but he’s very old and infirm now. I think all he does is visit her from time to time for a drink and a chat about old times.”

“If he supports her, what will happen to her when he dies?”

“Oh, don’t worry about Denise Dettonville. She has plenty of money already and Uncle Gaston will leave her with plenty more. My father left her the house on Burgundy – actually he had already given it to her mother – plus rent property in Faubourg Marigny. She’s well taken care of.”

“How does she have the last name Dettonville? Is that your uncle’s name?”

“Oh, no. It doesn’t work like that. Her mother’s last name – and her grandmother’s – was Dettonville. She doesn’t have our family name.”

“But Pierre in Baton Rouge, isn’t his last name Beauxyeaux like yours?”

“Aha,” Andre laughed, “You’re quick my dear. That’s a matter of great friction between him and the Beauxyeaux family. He started calling himself Beauxyeaux when he was a boy – as soon as he found out who his father was. It caused quite a stir with mother and her friends.”

"Really? Why?"

“Because it violates one of the rules of the custom. The children a man has by his mistresses – especially his mulatta mistresses – are never acknowledged legally. They’re taken care of financially as a matter of honor, but they are not claimed as heirs.

“Do you care that he claims to be your father’s son?”

“I did once, but now it’s an asset for me to have a brother like him. Politics is a strange business – at least it is in South Louisiana. His friendship is of great value to me during an election.”

“You’re on good terms with Denise as well.”

“She’s one of my very best friends. I depend on her help, especially with my sexual adventures. Without her help, how could I continue to see you?”

“And others?”

“I hope you don’t resent there being others.”

“Not especially. I’ll have to wait and see how much they interfere with my getting what I want from you.” She let her hand stray to the patch of hair between his legs.”

“You have not worries there, I assure you.”

“I wasn’t talking only about other women, either.”

“You don’t mind my taste in other men?”

“Mind? No I don’t mind at all. I enjoyed that night in Baton Rouge with Bart very much. I wouldn’t want it to be the last time I – that is – we enjoyed ourselves that way. I wonder if sometime we might try it with another woman too.”

“I adore you, Claire,” Andre said kissing her. “You are rare – truly rare in this world – at least for someone with tastes like mine.”

“I think we are very similar in our tastes,” Claire said. “I find you exciting in many ways, and not just sexually. You are smart and someone with a future. I could learn to love you – in good time of course – but not too much and not too soon. ”

“Let us make a pact then,” Andre said. “Let’s open ourselves up to each other. Let’s have a relationship of adventure – taking pleasure were we can find it – and a relationship of trust. Neither of us will be dishonest with the other.”

“I would like that,” Claire said. “And now, I’d like a change to be honest with you.”

“Always, mon cher.”

“To be honest, I’ve not quite satisfied my lust for you tonight. I’d like to feel you deep inside me again so I’ll have something to remember when I’m alone. We may not be able to be alone together again soon and who knows, next time we may not prefer to be alone.”

“My dear,” Andre said. He took her in his arms and when both were satisfied, they fell asleep
contented.

*****

Dubby brought coffee and a breakfast tray to Claire’s room and pulled aside the drapes to let light into the room.

Claire woke and stretched under the sheet Andre has spread over her when he got up and left before daylight. As he was leaving, he kissed her and told her he had business at Belle Fourche and then later in Baton Rouge, but that he would send her a message through Denise to the École Juttison as soon as he could return to New Orleans.

“What time is it, Dubby?”

“Just seven, Miss Crane. Shall I draw you a bath?”

“Yes, please.” She looked at the clothes she had worn yesterday hanging in the armoire and wished she had brought a change.

As if she were reading Claire’s mind, Dubby told her that Denise wondered if perhaps she would like fresh underwear and – Denise thought – she also had a summer frock that might fit her well enough to wear home.

“That would be wonderful, Dubby.”


At exactly nine o’clock, Mme. Dettonville’s carriage arrived at the École Juttison and deposited Claire on the sidewalk. She was dressed in a simple beige dress, a bit short by conservative standards, but quite respectable for a young woman of Claire’s age.

When she was inside, Claire set out to find Miss Ophelia. She found out that the woman was again occupied, but that Claire should wait in the parlor and Miss Ophelia would join her at ten.

Promptly as the hall clock finished striking ten dull strokes, Miss Ophelia opened the door and came in. The pucker of her lips was quite pronounced.

Claire stood up and wished the older woman good morning, but Miss Ophelia did not return the greeting.

“We begin our day at Juttison School quite a bit earlier than 9 o’clock, Miss Crane,” she said. She sat down on a straight-backed chair that was placed near the door. She did not ask Claire to sit down, and because there was not another chair near the one Miss Ophelia had chosen, Claire remained standing.

“We did not set a time to meet this morning, Miss Ophelia, and I assumed you would have other matters to attend to before you were able to see me.”

“Don’t be argumentative, Miss Crane. I do not permit my staff to make assumptions about my affairs. I expect them to be available anytime I desire to see them.”

“Of course, ma’am. I’m sorry if I seemed argumentative. I assure you I had. . .”

Ophelia waved her hand dismissing the rest of Claire’s sentence.

“Staff are expected to be out of bed and fully dressed by 4:45 in the morning. They should have checked on the girls assigned to them to be sure they are out of bed at five and have finished their toilets in order to be at their places in the refectory at six – precisely.”

“Is that so?” Claire said. “Then may I ask if you intend to offer me a position on the staff?”

“I believe that’s what you came here seeking, is it not?”

“Yes, ma’am, I had hoped to find a position, and I am flattered that you seem to be considering the idea positively, but we have not discussed my duties or my compensation.”

“Beggars can’t be choosers, Miss Crane.”

“I hope I did not give you the impression that I was begging, Miss Ophelia. Of course, I need to find employment, but I hope that it will be satisfactory both for me as well as my employer.”

“I believe yesterday when my sister Susan interviewed you, you said something to the affect that if you did not find employment you did not know how you should get on. I believe she said you would were quite desperate, and that you did not know to what extremes you might have to go in order to survive.”

Claire felt a flash of anger, but she quickly suppressed it.

“Yes, I did say something along those lines, but I at the time I was feeling a bit of panic. Miss Susan appeared to dismiss me after our. . .” Claire paused for just a minute to give a hint of emphasis to the word Ophelia had “. . .our interview and she had not mentioned employment. That’s why I brought up the subject. I suppose I did sound rather concerned, but I thought I was being dismissed without any discussion of a position here at the school.”

“Miss Susan defers all questions about staff to me.”

“I believe she said as much at the end, but I did not know that until I brought up the subject of employment. I suppose I was confused about the purpose of my – my chat – with her.”

“The purpose of your “chat” with her, as you call it, is none of your business. We are not in the habit of explaining our methods to those we interview.”

Claire began to realize that defending herself to the woman was a fool’s errand.

“Yes, ma’am,” she said, hoping that was a sufficient reply to Miss Ophelia’s complaints and the woman’s need to dominate the conversation.

“I believe you said you had some facility in French and arithmatic.”

“Yes, ma’am. I believe so.”

“I am prepared to offer you a position as an instructor in French and in mathematics. You will teach two French classes each day; one for beginners and the other for more advanced students. In addition you will teach advanced arithmetic to the senior girls.”

“Advanced? Do you mean algebra?”

“Why no, of course. Only basic figuring – multiplication and long division – what a lady needs to know to run a household. Any further knowledge is not ladylike.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“I will also expect you to join with the other teachers in teaching the girls sewing as well. These classes are more informal and take place in the evening and on the weekend–except on Sunday of course–which is a day of rest and devoted to reading scripture and other uplifting texts.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“For the time being you will share a room with Miss Greenbirch.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Miss Greenbirch will also provide you with suitable cloth and a pattern to make yourself some suitable clothes. The costs will be deducted from your wages. We expect our teachers to dress modestly. The dress you are wearing now and the one you wore yesterday are quite unsuitable.”

“Really, ma’am?”

“Indeed. Although I think they might serve for someone in a different social position, they are entirely too fashionable for a teacher. They give quite the wrong impression.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

That will be all for now. Your first French class meets directly after luncheon. Miss Greenbirch will show you where to meet the class and introduce you to the girls. I’ll send for you later in the day. I’ll have other things to discuss at that time. You may go now.”

The woman got up from her chair to dismiss Claire but Claire stood awkwardly where she was and did not move.

“I said you may go.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Claire said, “But if I would like to know something more.”

“Well, what is it? I’m quite busy.”

“I would like to know what I will receive as compensation. I would also like to know if I will have any time off from my duties during the day, and at what time I will be free in the evenings. I am also anxious to know about my day off. I’m quite new in the city and would like some opportunity to explore.”

Miss Ophelia stared for a long minute at Claire with a lowered brow that, combined with the pucker on her mouth, gave a forbidding visage. “You will be provided room and board and a stipend of $5.00 per month.”

“Five dollars?” Claire asked. The amount was much lower than she had hoped for.

“Yes, five dollars, half in cash and half will be kept aside for you in a savings account.”

“In a savings account? In a bank?”

“Of course not. It will be in an account here at the school administered by Miss Susan on your behalf.”

“Will I have access to the account?”

“From time to time, but not until it has a sufficient balance to cover any charges you may incur.”

“Charges? What sort of charges?”

“For breaking things. Being wasteful of the supplies we provide. Damage to books and equipment by your students. That sort of thing.”

“Will I receive interest on the account?”

“Certainly not. We keep it entirely at our expense and trouble as a convenience to you. Interest is not appropriate.”

“When will I be at liberty at the end of the day?”

“If by ‘at liberty’ you mean when will your duties end, then you may assume that you can retire when the girls assigned to you for supervision have finished their evening studies and have gone to bed. We insist that all lights are out for the girls at ten o’clock. The staff members are expected to be in bed by eleven, unless they have permission to stay up after that to attend to duties, such as preparation for your classes and grading papers. Because you days will begin quite early, we encourage the teachers to retire as early as is consistent with their duties.”

Claire was stunned at learning what would be required of her at the Juttison school, and she stood speechless as she listened.

“If, however, by ‘at liberty’ you mean will you be allowed to leave the school at the end of the day, then I can tell you that you will have no such liberty at all. Juttison school must be very jealous of our reputation and that includes the reputation of each of the staff members. We can not have our teachers wandering the streets of New Orleans – certainly not in the evening and certainly not alone.”

“Surely I will have some free time away from the school – for shopping – to visit friends.”

“I know of no call for you to shop. The school will provide whatever you need. That’s another reason we will retain part of you stipend–to cover expenses we incur on your behalf. As for your visiting friends, we are quite particular about our teachers’ associations away from the school. Your acquaintance Mme. Dettonville, for instance. I know of her only slightly, but I am not impressed that she is a suitable companion for you.”

“Surely I will be able to leave the school sometime.”

“You will be allowed to leave, in the company of another teacher one afternoon each month. You will not have a regularly set time. You must apply to me in writing for permission to go out at least one week in advance and you must already have arranged with someone else to go along with you when you make the request. I will then decide if I can spare both you at the time you request. Now, I really must go. Find Miss Greenbirch right away. Perhaps she can loan you something suitable to wear for your first class.”

Claire followed the woman out of the room with a heavy heart.

Chapter 8

Denise and Claire had finished dinner on the veranda. Dubby had brought fresh candles and the two women were sipping dark coffee from delicate demitasse cups.

“Dinner was wonderful,”Claire said. I think I am ready to agree with you entirely about the French having more talent with food.”

“Americans do some things very well, business and trade for instance, but food and stylish clothes really belong to the French.”

“You speak about the French and Americans as being so different, but surely, even though a great many people in New Orleans were French originally–as well as from former French colonies in the Carribean–surely you consider yourselves Americans now. Louisiana has belonged to the United States for well over one hundred years.”

“Well, of course you are right, and I don’t mean to sound as though I’m not a good American, but it’s just that in New Orleans we have a great many traditions we rather enjoy and want to preserve.”

Oh, and I glad you do. I am looking forward to getting to know the city. I think I’ll enjoy living here a great deal. I like the – what shall I say? – the freedom from so many prudish constraints. You seem so free sexually.”

“Well, a few of us are – but not everyone – and the old French families are very snobbish and strict.”

“I don’t think they could be more prudish and hateful than the Juttison sisters appear to be. I’m looking forward to meeting more of like you and your family.”

“Getting to know people like me will not be a problem, but it will be very difficult for you to get to know many in my family – that is to say, in Andre’s family – for although we are half-brother and sister, I don’t associate with the part of his other family that includes his mother.”

“You know your half-brother Pierre.”

“He’s not in the part of Andre’s family I’m referring to. And I think I ought to warn you that you must be careful if you develop a great affection for Andre, and most people do – men and women. You are quite taken with him aren’t you?”

“Yes, I do have a strong attraction to him. I like him a great deal.”

“You need to know that a relationship with him will have its limits.”

“You make it sound like such a mystery.”

“Not when you understand our ways in New Orleans better, you see. . .”

At this point, Dubby interrupted to tell them that Andre had arrived and wanted to know if she would receive him.

“Certainly, Dubby. Show him up.”


When Andre walked into the candle light on the veranda, Claire felt a familiar stirring in her. He was dressed in a dark well-cut suit and he was as handsome as she eemembered him, perhaps more so dressed as he was as a gentleman now instead of the rough clothes he had worn in Baton Rouge and on the barge trip to New Orleans.

He smiled at her as he came in, but stopped for a moment to kiss his sister on the cheek before turning to Claire. He walked to her and bending over kissed her too, but full on the lips. His kiss lingered for a moment well beyond the length of time a kiss of greeting would last.

Claire enjoyed his kiss, even though she felt a bit awkward with the intimacy the man took in front of his sister.

“How have you two been getting on?” he asked.

“Oh very well,” Claire said. We’ve had quite a conversation – mostly about you – and a lovely dinner.”

“I suppose she’s told you all sorts of disagreeable things about me.”

Denise broke in before Claire could respond.

“Not nearly so disagreeable as your telling her I was your aunt.”

“Oh, that!” Andre laughed. “I can explain about that.”

“I don’t want to hear it. No explanation will save you. I have decided to punish you severely.”

“Oh, please have pity on me, dear sister. But if you do punish me, please don’t do anything that will turn this beautiful young American lady against me.”

“Oh, I don’t think there’s any danger of that,” Denise said. “I think you’ve already established yourself with her quite well.”

“Has she said anything very beastly about me?” Andre said to Claire.

“Only that I must be careful about falling in love with you, if I understood her.”

“Don’t listen to her. Fall in love with me if you like.”

“It sounds as if I would be joining quite a crowd if I did.”

“You certainly would stand out in a crowd of any sort, but tell me this. Who do I have to warn me against falling in love with you, Claire.”

Claire knew she was blushing but she hoped it was hidden in the candlelight. “I will take that responsibility, I think,” she said.

“Well spoken, Claire,” Denise said. And I suggest you take care that he does not fall in love with you. I think he would become even more of a pest than he is usually.”

“Now why do you suppose my sister hates me so?” Andre said. “What have I ever done to deserve such abuse.”

“Maybe telling me she was your aunt.”

Andre had remained standing near her chair and now he bent and kissed her again.

“I will not be deterred. I will love you in spite of the pain and danger.”

“Just so you know you’ve been warned,” Claire said.

“Won’t you join us for coffee, Andre?” Denise asked. “Or would you prefer a glass of wine. I can have Dubby send up a fresh bottle.”

“Coffee would be wonderful, although if you don’t mind, I’d much prefer a bourbon. Do you think Dubby could manage that.”

“There’s no need to disturb her. The bourbon decanter is there in the console and I’m sure there is still ice there too.”

Andre walked back into the parlor to make his drink and while he was out of her hearing, Denise leaned toward and whispered: “I think he intends to stay the night. Do you mind?”

“Why would I mind–he’s your brother and naturally if he wants to stay. . .”

“I’m rather certain he doesn’t plan to stay where I put him. I think he will probably join you as soon as he can manage it.”

Claire smiled. “I’m quite sure I’d be disappointed if he didn’t. Do you mind if he does? I could lock my door.”

“Oh, my dear, enjoy him all you want under my roof, but for heaven’s sake, don’t lock the door. He would keep the whole house awake rattling the latch and pleading with you like a puppy wanting out of the kitchen at night.”

“Claire,” Andre said coming back on the veranda, “Would you like a bourbon?”

“No thank you, she said. I’ve had a good deal of wine and it’s made me drowsy and I don’t want to drop off to sleep quite yet.”

“Denise, I think I’d like to stay the night if you don’t mind,” Andre said, but he was gazing into Claire’s eyes and not looking at his sister.

“I had Dubby make up your room this morning. It’s all ready.”

“You’re so thoughtful.”

“Not at all.”

“I’m spending the night too,” Claire said, but I have to go back to the school in the morning so I think I ought to go to bed soon.”

“Of course, dear,” Denise said. She had finished her coffee. “Andre, if you’ll excuse us, I think the ladies will leave you to finish your bourbon.”

“Sleep well,” Andre said. He sat down a the table and looked after the women as they walked away.

*****

Claire was sitting in front the mirror at a vanity dresser brushing her hair when she heard a soft knock at the door. She arranged the front of the mauve peignoir Denise had loaned her so that the light fabric lay in loose folds over her breasts enough for modesty, but not concealing them entirely.

She opened the door enough to see Andre waiting outside. He was wearing a satin dressing gown with a belted sash around his waist. He wore bedroom slippers, but his calves showed naked below the hem of his robe.

“Can I come in?” he whispered, but Claire had already opened the door to let him in. As soon as he was inside and the door shut behind him, Claire took his face in her hands and returned the kiss he had given her on the veranda earlier.

“There,” she said. That’s better. I didn’t get to kiss you back before.” She lowered her hands from his face and moved them down his chest to open the front of the robe and let her fingers play lightly on his pectoral muscles.

Then it was his turn to take her face in his hands and put his lips on hers in a long sensual kiss as she continued to explore his body under the robe, feeling the hard mounds of his buttocks.

“My dear,” he sighed as he finished the kiss. “You are such a treasure.”

“You are too, Andre,” she said. I have such a desire for your body. I want to touch you all over.”

“Do whatever you want, Claire,” he said. “I am yours to use as you want.”

“Then lie down on the bed and let me touch you. I’ve never been able to explore a man before. I want to know every inch of you.”

He dropped the robe on the floor and opened his arms to her. “Come and explore me, my love.”

She made him lie down on the bed on his back and began slowly to touch and kiss him, beginning with his dark curly hair and working her way downward. He put his hands behind his head and shut his eyes as she kissed him lightly on the lips. He might have been sleeping, except that his great verge reared its stiff length throbbing above his stomach from the patch of hair between his legs.

After a few minutes neither of them could resist the passion generated by her attentions to him. He drew her to him, and getting on top of her and between her legs, he entered her and with long and gentle lovemaking gave her what she had not had from him in Baton Rouge.

Presently she lay in the crook of his arm in a contented but wakeful peace.

“Are you sleeping?” Andre asked.

“No. I’m wide awake.”

“Good, because I am also awake and I have things I want to talk about.”

“What is it, Andre?”

“I shouldn’t trouble you with my worries, but I find myself drawn to you very strongly and that makes me want to unburden myself to you. I do hope you won’t think I’m a weak man – needing a woman to talk to – but I’ll be honest enough to tell you, there are things that worry me.”

“Certainly you can tell me anything you want, Andre. I have a strong feeling toward you to – not that I want more that we have right now with each other. I really don’t want to be too attached right now – and this sounds awful saying it – but I’m not ready to settle down with a man yet. I’ve just now gotten my freedom and I want to make my own way for awhile.”

“That’s how I feel too, Claire, and I’m so grateful to have found someone who feels the same way. Settling down – with a wife – is what I want someday, but there’s too much uncertainty now to consider such a thing.”

“What is it that you’re worried about.”

“Are you aware of the news and politics – of what’s going on in the world, especially in Europe?”

“You mean the war?”

“Yes.”

“I haven’t read the newspapers since I left Shreveport, but I thought President Wilson promised to keep us out of their war in Europe.”

“I’m afraid we won’t be able to stay out of it. Did you know that the German’s had sunk the Lusitania?”

“You don’t mean the ocean liner do you? The Germans sunk it? That’s terrible.”

“It was bound to happen. We’ve been shipping war materials to the British and French and the German’s have been warning us against violating our neutrality.”

“What do you think will happen?”

“I think we’ll end up sending troops to France.”

“Americans troops? Do you think anyone will go?”

“I think volunteers will line to go.”

“But you won’t go will you?”

“I probably will have to.”

“You mean you’ll volunteer.”

“Yes.”

“But why, Andre. Please don’t think more that you ought to think by my saying so, but I just can’t bear to think of anything happening to you.”

“You’re sweet to say so, but I’ll have to. Did you know that I’m in politics?”

“Denise said you were in the legislature. Why does that mean you have to go to the war?”

If I want to advance in politics after the war, I’ll have to go.”

Claire was quiet for a moment considering what he had said. She did not know much about politics or the legislature or going to war, but she understood intuitively how they were related – at least for a man. For a moment she felt anger, first because men and their affairs were inconvenient for women, but her first anger was replaced by another that did not like the way women were left out of such affairs.

“I don’t know much about it,” she said. “But I want to learn as much as I can. You must tell me everything.”

“It may not be fair to trouble you with it all.”

“You tell me whatever is on your mind. I’ll let you know if it troubles me more than I can manage.”

“You have a bit of an edge on your voice.”

I don’t mean to, but I think women need to be treated with more equality. If we’re to have the vote, then we need to get used to being troubled by the affairs of the world.”

“Yes, I suppose so.”

“Then tell me what worries you.”

“First, I need to tell you more about me than you already know.”

She rose up from the bed on an elbow and kissed him.

“Nothing would please me more,” she said.

Chapter 7

Chapter 7


“Now what’s this about eating crawfish?” Denise asked.

Dubby returned with a fresh bottle of wine iced in a silver tub.

“Ms. Battle said to tell you that dinner would be ready in half and hour,” the maid said. “She said I was to tell you that it would be best not to wait longer than that.” She put the wine down on the table between Claire and Denise and left the room.

“We had best obey Mrs. Battle’s dictum about dinner,” Denise said. “But we’re wasting time, dear. Tell me. What about crawfish.”

“We were at Pierre’s restaurant,” Claire said. “I guess he’s your brother too.”

“Yes, he’s another half-brother, but he has another mother entirely. We all three share the same father, but we have different mothers. Actually there are more siblings too, not just we three.”

“Really?” Claire looked at her puzzled.

“Creole families have some unusual connections, my dear – at least unusual for Americans I think. It’s complicated, and I’ll explain more about it later if you like, but right now, I want to know about the crawfish.”

“Bart and Andre were ordering our dinner and asked if I liked crawfish. I said I had never eaten them and I thought the idea sounded disgusting.”

“Yes?”

“Andre asked how I knew I didn’t like them if I’d never tried them, and he made me promise to eat them.”

“And did you like them?”

“Oh, yes – by the time we ate, I had drunk enough wine to be ready to try anything – and I was very hungry too.”

“So what happened then?”

“When we had finished dinner, Andre asked us to go with him to his apartment for more wine. He also promised me a long soak in a hot bath, and after a week on the barge taking baths in the river, the idea was very tempting.”

“Oh, I understand. Isn’t it a wonderful tub? He has a lovely apartment on the river doesn’t he? I go there often when I visit Baton Rouge, that is I do if legislature’s not in session. I wouldn’t go near the place when it’s full of cigar-smoking politicians and such.”

“He doesn’t live there all the time?”

“Oh, no. Only when the legislature is sitting or when he has other business in Baton Rouge.”

“Where does he live the rest of the time then? Here in New Orleans?”

“My dear, how very little you know about my brother. He has a home in the Vieux Carré of course, or rather his mother does, actually she merely has life tenancy – it belongs to his family and he’ll own it when she dies. He stays there when he’s in the city although he sometimes stays here too – it depends – but I think it’s his place to tell you about all that, not mine. Besides, it’s almost time for dinner and I want to hear all about that night in Baton Rouge and I we won’t be able to talk frankly at dinner with Dubby lurking about the table. Andre will be coming after dinner and I want to hear your tale before he comes in to tell his. Now do tell me what happened.”

“I’m not sure I ought to talk about it. I didn’t know he was a politician – it might cause a scandal if it got out.”

Denise laughed. “He’s quite a scandal already, my dear.”

“But it involves things about Bart too, not just Andre and myself.”

“Well, I would assume so! If you’re worried about revealing Andre’s taste for men as well as women, don’t be concerned on my account. He has no secrets from me. In fact, one of the reasons he occasionally spends time here with me instead of at his mother’s house is because sometimes he chooses to entertain men he can’t invite to his mother’home – your river man Bart– for example.”

“Have you and Bart. . . ?”

“As I said before, my taste runs to young men, very young men, you might say, and Bart is much too old to interest me. I also ought to tell you that I don’t care for making love with other women either. I have made the ‘crawfish test’ in that direction, so I’m not speaking out of ignorant when I say I don’t’ like it. I’m not as adventurous as my brother. Perhaps not as adventurous as you either.”

Claire smiled. "Oh I'm afraid you're getting a bad opinion of me."

“Don't be silly, mon cher. I'll match you tale for tale later on, but, Claire, we can talk about me some other time. Tell me about Baton Rouge.”

“Bart and Andre had their baths first, so I could take my time soaking.”

“That was thoughtful.”

“I thought so. Anyway, when I had finished my bath, I put on the robe Andre had left for me and went out to join them on the balcony. They were sitting close together in the dark near the railing and when I first saw them, Bart had his arm across Andre’s shoulder, sort of playing with his hair with his fingers. Doesn’t Andre have beautiful curly black hair?”

“Yes, yes, of course. He has lovely hair, “ Denise said somewhat impatiently. “Go on.”

“It was dark and I really couldn’t see that well, but it looked as if Andre had one of his hands between Bart’s legs. I can’t be sure about what he was doing, but from behind them, I know Andre was reaching in that direction – perhaps his hand was merely resting on Bart’s thigh, but I don’t think so.”

“Probably not. Go on.”

“When they heard me behind them, they stopped whatever they were doing and Andre got up to get me a glass of wine. I sat down next to Bart and asked him if Andre had been touching him. I suppose I may have felt a little jealous that something was going on and I was being left out.”

“What did Bart say?”

“He told me that Frenchmen are more affectionate toward other men that American men are and I asked him if he didn’t mind being touched like that by a man. He told me no, that he actually enjoyed having sex with a man occasionally. I was going to ask him how in the world two men had sex with each other, but that was when Andre came back with my wine. He had heard us talking and asked me if I hadn’t learned anything about eating crawfish – that you needed to try it first before you decided if you liked it or not.”

“I told you he was quite a talker.”

“Yes, you did, but that’s about all he said. The next thing was, he had his hand inside my robe touching my breast. He has wonderful hands, doesn’t he?

“Yes, wonderful hands, lovely hair–from what I hear, a magnificent verge as well. What happened then?”

“Verge?” Claire asked. “Doesn’t that mean ‘stick.’”

“Yes, stick. It’s what we call a man’s pleasure instrument. I think the word in English is ‘dick.’

Claire nodded and smiled.

“Yes, dick is one of the words Bart taught me.” Then she continued: “I guess the wine had slowed my reactions, but I found myself getting excited by what Andre was doing, then I remembered we weren’t alone and I almost made him stop because of Bart, but then I felt Bart’s hand on my other breast, and – well– I guess I decided that I liked that as much as I liked eating crawfish.”

“Oh, I know quite what you mean. I adore making love with two men – young men to be sure – but I much prefer their not giving each other too much attention.”

“I was kind of surprised about that.”

“About what?

“The two of them did show each other a lot of attention.”

“Yes, I suppose they would, knowing them. I hope it didn’t interfere with your enjoyment.”

“No, not a bit. After I got over my initial surprise, I thought it was pretty exciting – I mean it certainly made them more excited, and I think I benefitted a great deal from how passionate they got with each other. Anyway, I certainly didn’t get left out.”

“Go on.”

“Well, Andre flopped down on the bed on his back and pulled me down on top of him.”

“I like being on top sometimes, but not right from the beginning.”

“I wasn’t on top like that – if I know what you mean.”

“Then how were you on top? Tell me.”

“He pulled me down to squat over his face with my thighs on the sides of his head. That’s why I laughed when you said before that he made love with his mouth.”

“Yes, I remember. Was he good?”

“He was wonderful, but he got better.”

“Yes?”

“That was when Bart got in bed with us. At first he was straddling Andre too and started sucking my nipples while Andre was working me with his tongue.”

“How exciting. Go on. Go on.”

“Yes, it was exciting, and that’s when I really got a surprise.”

“What was that?”

“Bart got on his knees between Andre’s legs and started playing with his. . . What was the French word you used?”

“Verge.”

“He was playing with Andre’s verge, sort of waving it at me and smiling. I had tried to put Bart’s dick in my mouth before, but it’s really too fat to get much into my mouth, but I knew how much he liked me sucking on the head. Looking at Andre’s dick waving around in front of me, I leaned over and put it in my mouth like I had Bart’s and I got a nice surprise.”

“Yes?”

“Well, in the first place, it’s not quite so fat and thick, so I was able to get as much in my mouth as I wanted, except that it was so long.”

“I’ve heard as much – although I’ve never seen it except once when he was drunk and I had to put him to bed. Unfortunately he was much too drunk then for it to be anything but a worm, although I could see that it might be of a respectable length when it’s erect.”

“There was no end to it, Denise.”

“Not really.”

“Really! After I got as much of it in my mouth as I could without putting it down my throat, I began running my hand down the length and it just didn’t stop, even when I reached the hair at the base. I pushed my hand down further, and found another two or three inches.”

“Now that was a surprise!”

“Well, yes, but that wasn’t the biggest surprise.”

No?”

“No. Bart put his hand between the cheeks of Andre’s ass and began playing with him with his finger. That really got Andre excited and he got even more active with what he was doing to me. He started sucking me, as well as working his tongue back and forth in me. And, it seemed his dick got even longer and harder. I still had his dick in my mouth and he pushed up with his hips and sunk about three inches down my throat.”

“Oh, my goodness!”

“At first it scared me and made me gag, and I saw stars flashing behind my eyes when he did it, like I do when I climax. Even after gagging, I still wanted him, however, and as soon as I caught my breath, I sucked him back into my mouth and pushed myself down as far as I could. It felt so good down my throat like that, like it was so long I might be able to get enough inside me to touch the place where his tongue was giving me so much pleasure.”

“Well, perhaps, that’s how it seemed. I’ve had the experience, but it touches that spot better by
putting it where Andre had his tongue.”

“Yes, I’m sure, but I didn’t get the chance.”

“No?”

“No. The only one that got dick in that end was Andre.”

Denise laughed. “Tell me.”

All the time I was sucking on Andre and he had his tongue in me, Bart was working on Andre’s ass with his fingers.”

“Mmm?”

“Then he started trying to put his dick in Andre’s ass, but it was too big – and it is big, I can tell you that.”

“But as good as eating crawfish, I’ll wager.”

“Oh, yes, but harder to eat than to fuck, if you know what I mean.”

“I know exactly. But, what happened then? Did he stop trying to get Andre to take his dick?”

“For just a moment. That’s when I decided to help.”

“How is that?”

“I put my finger in my mouth and wet the end of Bart’s dick with spit. He shoved and Andre shoved back, and Bart got about half his dick inside.”

“What did Andre do?”

“He just about went crazy. He couldn’t do anything but make sounds since he had his face buried in me, but you could tell by the sounds that he really liked what Bart was doing to his ass.”

“I’d like to see Bart fucking somebody if he’s equipped as well as you say. If he were just a younger man. . . I much prefer big fat dicks, although, you’re right they’re better for sucking if they’re not quite so fat.”

“It was over pretty quickly after that. I was already beginning to reach a climax when Bart put his dick in Andre’s ass, and it did not take more than a dozen strokes with the full length of his verge before both were shooting seed. I suppose, since I’ve told you so much already, I’ll also tell you that most of Andre’s seed went down my throat.”

“Oh, my goodness. Really. More of that crawfish challenge, I suppose?.”

“Well, I didn’t think of it as a challenge just then. I was already sure I’d like it.”

Dubby appeared in the doorway from the parlor to announce that dinner was ready to be served and asked if should she bring it up to them on the veranda, or would they eat in the dining room downstairs.