Page 69 of Frankly, My Dear

“You’re about to cry ’cause the Collins are comin’ for a visit. Lordy, girl, we’ll get the house cleaned up by then. Dontcha het yo’self up over such a triflin’ matter.”

“And James is sending me away with them.” Her voice broke with emotion.

Blossom’s mouth dropped open with surprise. Then she clamped it shut with a snap. “The master can’t do that. You’re his fi-an-cée.”

A little hysterical giggle bubbled out of Selene’s mouth. “No, I’m not.” I’m Crimson O’Hara, and he’s Rat Butler, and this is Tara-cum-Bedlam.

“Honey, he told his father you’re his fi-an-cée. And the master ain’t never lied before.”

“It was a trick. To keep his father and Victor from thinking I was a quadroon and taking me away.”

Blossom frowned, stunned at that news. “And now he’s gonna send you away? No, he’s not. I’ll have a talk with that boy. Yes, I will.”

“No, Blossom, leave it be. This is the way James wants it, and…and he’s probably right. It’s for the best.” Oh, yeah, right. And tomorrow is another day.

Blossom made a snorting sound of disgust, then looked up with concern when thunder rumbled in the distance. “Best you lock your doors t’night. The ghost always comes when there’s a storm.”

“The ghost? Great! James doesn’t want me, and a ghost is on the prowl.” Shaking her head, Selene went off to find Etienne and tuck him in for the night.

Surprisingly, he was in his bedroom, where he should be. He sat examining a jar of about fifty lightning bugs he’d collected in the yard.

Etienne took off his clothes down to his underdrawers and slipped into bed, yawning widely. Then he wriggled around a bit until he got comfortable.

“You gonna yell at me now, or give me a whippin’, or”—he gulped loudly—“pop my eyeballs?”

“Not this time, Etienne. But tell me, why did you do such a mean thing to me at the dinner table?”

“’Cause I don’t like you takin’ over. My papa and me are in charge here. Not you.”

“Oh, Etienne—”

“E.T.,” he corrected her.

“E.T. then. I don’t want to take anything away from you or your father. I just want to help. Your daddy has so much work to do running the plantation, and he’s worried about you and his mother and the house. That’s all.”

Lightning cracked loudly close to the house, and Selene sat down on the bed next to him. “Are you afraid of storms, E.T.? I’ll stay with you till you fall asleep if you are.”

“Me? Afraid of storms? Hah! But the ghost’ll prob’ly come t’night.”

The ghost again. “Are you afraid of the ghost?”

He shook his head. “It never hurts me none. Just stands by my bed and looks at me. Then it goes away.”

Holy cow!

“But it doesn’t like Papa. Once it tried to set a fire in his room.”

Selene gasped.

“And ’nother time it put a dead rooster in his bed.”

James had once mentioned a dead rooster to Selene, hadn’t he? And snake eggs.

“Even snake eggs in the soup Blossom made for him.” He giggled at the remembrance. “Merde! Blossom was so-o-o mad. She said if she ever catches that ghost, she’s gonna wring its neck. Blossom is so dumb. Everyone knows you can’t kill a ghost,” he said with a hoot of laughter.

Selene stifled a laugh herself. “Do you want me to tell you a story?”

“E.T. again?”