Josephine: Bride of Louisiana (American Mail-Order Bride 18) Read Online Free Page A

least to people who would actually understand her--and she hoped the rest of it would come as quickly.
    Jerome helped her into the covered buggy after he placed her green valise in the back. She stole a glance at Bernadette who smiled and cocked her head to the side, winking at Josephine.
    “The ride to the plantation isn’t too long as you’ve stopped here along the river.” Jerome pulled his black hat further over his forehead and flicked the reins, urging the horses down the road.
    Bernadette babbled almost all the way to the plantation and Josephine was relieved that she hadn’t had to talk very much. And by the time they’d reached what looked like a very long drive that Jerome turned onto, she’d learned quite a bit about the South--from the riverboats and New Orleans to the people who lived on the plantation and relied on it for food and shelter, and the large French population that still peppered the area.
    She couldn’t help her hand from coming to her mouth as she gasped at the sight of the huge house they approached. “Is this...do we...”
    Bernadette smiled and patted Josephine’s arm. “Yes, this is the main house and we do live here. I am in the back, of course, and Jerome is in the west wing, but this east wing is for you and Pierre.” She swept her hand toward the east side of the biggest house Josephine had ever seen, six white columns reaching up toward the roof, two stories tall. She wrung her hands as she looked over at Jerome, his face expressionless as he tied the horses to the post in front of the tall, wood doors.
    She looked around as Jerome helped them both down from the buggy.
    “Jerome, would you please take Miss Depardieu’s bag to her room and show her the way?” Bernadette said as she turned to Josephine and squeezed her elbow. “I’ve set everything up for a bath for you. I’ll be right up with some hot water.” She smiled and headed up the stairs leading to the porch and opened the door, gesturing for them to follow behind her, and Josephine’s heart fell. She had a million questions about Pierre, the house, the people, what was expected of her--and she sighed as Bernadette disappeared through the incredibly tall doors.
    Jerome turned toward the porch. Josephine took a step behind him and then stopped, her heart beating quickly as she looked up the stairs.
    “Follow me, Miss Depardieu. I’ll take you to your room.”
    A shiver ran through Josephine again as she wondered if her future husband would make her feel as this man, Jerome. She tried to quiet her nerves. She had absolutely no reason to think ill of this man, and she breathed in the cool, fresh air. She placed her foot on the first step and rose toward the house and her future.
    Josephine almost bumped into a wall at the bottom of the stairs, her mouth agape as she saw the wide, curved staircase that lead to the upstairs. The dark wood and beautiful carpets on the floor were extraordinary, and the small tables with flowers on them were so elegant that she couldn’t stop staring.
    She shook her head again when, at the top of the stairs, she was studying the paintings on the wall so intently that she hadn’t noticed Jerome stop and ran directly into him.
    “Oh, I’m so sorry,” she said as she tried to focus on his face and not her opulent surroundings. “You have a lovely home.”
    Jerome set her bag by a door just at the top of the stairs and turned to her, cocking his head to one side. “Yes, it’s lovely. Didn’t you say you’d been raised in similar circumstances, and have a thorough knowledge of the French language and culture?”
    Her heart leapt to her throat. She knew she shouldn’t have listened to Michelle. They’d both thought maybe she could be a good match--she remembered French and a couple of recipes--but this? This was something she’d never experienced before.
    She decided if she was in for a penny, she may as well be in for a pound. And she hadn’t even met her future husband yet, so