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

she wasn’t going to give up this easily. “I...I am very familiar with French food, the language and culture, Monsieur ,” she said in French, trying very hard not to wrinkle her nose at him.
    “Might I ask why you considered this proposition my cousin made to you? What is it that you’re seeking here?” Jerome leaned against the doorjamb and folded his arms across his chest.
    Josephine took a step backward, surprised by his impertinent question and tone of voice. Didn’t Pierre send for her? Why else would she have come--except for the fact that she had nowhere else to go? Could this man know that?
    She straightened her shoulders and looked Jerome squarely in the eye. “I was sent for, as you know, by Pierre. Why else would I have come?”
    “I am not sure that you do not have ulterior motives, my dear,” Jerome said in French.
    Just as if she’d never stopped speaking the language, Josephine replied--also in French--in as crisp a tone as she could muster, “I have come to help my future husband in any way that he needs me to. I am hoping that someday, we may have a real marriage and be partners.”
    Jerome’s eyebrows shot up. She wondered if he had been surprised that she actually did understand and speak French.
    “Partners? Pierre has no use for partners. He has me to help him with the plantation. And rest assured it will be a marriage in name only.” He opened the door, picked up her valise and threw it on the bed. “Your room.”
    She frowned as he walked out the door. “What did I ever do to you?” she asked out loud after he’d closed the door behind him.
    Shaking off the bad feelings Jerome had left her with, she looked around--it surely was the most beautiful room she’d ever seen. Light, white sheers floated in the breeze from the open windows, hung with beautiful blue satin drapes on the sides. The four-poster bed with a white satin coverlet was so tall that there was a footstool beside it. She climbed the steps, turned around and fell back onto the bed, sinking in its downy softness.

Chapter Six
    J osephine’s eyes fluttered at the soft knock on the door. She stretched on the bed and as she sat up, her eyes flew wide open and her heart raced as it took a moment to realize where she was. Oh, yes. Louisiana. On a plantation. Going to marry someone she’s never met.
    She reached her foot out to the step stool and climbed down from the bed. She crossed over to the door and opened it, pulling it wide open as Bernadette waved in two young ladies, each carrying two pails of steaming water.
    “Oh, a bath. Thank you,” Josephine managed. “I’m afraid I dozed off for a moment.”
    Bernadette peered into the big, brass tub situated in the corner of the room, and clucked at the girls as they emptied their pails of water into it. “That certainly doesn’t surprise me, ma cherie. You’ve been traveling for days and I imagine it wasn’t the most pleasant trip.”
    The girls finished and Bernadette shooed them and their pails out of the room and shut the door behind them. She turned back toward Josephine, her hands on her hips. “Let me take a look at you.”
    Josephine’s eyebrows rose as Bernadette spun her around several times, her honey brown hair spilling out of its pins.
    “I believe Pierre will be quite pleased--if he actually looks at you.” Bernadette sighed and wiped some water off of the windowsill where the girls had spilled a bit.
    “What do you mean, if he looks at me? I’m presuming he actually wanted a bride.” Josephine crossed to the window and stood beside Bernadette.
    “Oh, he does want one. More than that, he needs one.”
    Josephine walked to the walnut vanity and took the remaining pins from her hair. As she started to brush it with the beautiful, tortoiseshell comb that had been laying on the vanity she watched in the mirror as Bernadette opened the armor and began to put away the very few items of clothing she’d brought with her. Two dresses, to be exact, in