Casket Girls

Florence breathed a sigh of relief. Her plan had worked. She had feigned exhaustion, and the others had taken off without her. The remaining sailors were preoccupied with replacing ropes and fixing minor damage, and she was undisturbed. A few more of Madame LaCour’s gold coins had made their way into Florence’s casket. Like any visitor to the island, the woman was drawn to the stands with their overflowing wares. Jean watched her enter the market. He stood a short distance away as she picked up a silver bracelet from a local craftsman. When the man told her the price, she put it back down. Ah oui, she is certainly not a wealthy woman. He saw the craftsman turn to help another customer. Within the glimpse of an eye the woman picked up the bracelet, slipped it into her corsage and strolled away with leisure. Jean had seen a lot in his life, but this here surprised even the worldly man he considered himself to be. There was not one moment’s hesitation in the woman’s deed. She was not new at this. Florence smiled broadly as she disappeared into the crowds. She turned a corner into a narrow street and bumped into a man. „Excusé moi.” She tried to pass, but the stranger would not let her. He had a dark beard and wore a black leather vest over a white shirt despite the heat. „Monsieur, s’il vous plait...” The stranger towered over her, broad shouldered, his arms stretched out to the sides, his hands against the walls of the buildings. His dark, fiery eyes bore into her as he slowly put his hand over the fabric of her dress between her breasts. She jumped back: „Monsieur, I’m not a prostitute!” „Non, Mademoiselle, you are a thief.” It was time to run. She ducked under his arm, but he grabbed her. She struggled. He had his arm wrapped around her waist, holding her close. „A very good thief...” She stopped moving. Was this stranger paying her a compliment? Jean Bèranger let go of her, knowing she would not try to run now, judging from the curious look on her face. „Hand it over”, he commanded. She reached into her corsage, his eyes following her move. She pulled out the bracelet, but did not give it to him: „Don’t touch it.” He snagged it from her, held it up against the sun. Then he bit into it: „Not worth much.” He slowly slipped it back into her corsage. His hand lingered. She slapped him. He laughed. „Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mademoiselle...” „Florence.” She was intrigued by him but determined not to show it. „I could use someone as crafty as you, Mademoiselle Florence...” This man is not going to hand me over to the police! He is a forçat, a criminal himself! „I do not make my living here, Monsieur...” „Jean.” „Monsieur Jean... I am on a journey to the colony of Louisiana; we are continuing on in the morning.” Continuing on?! So, she is a passenger... There was only one ship leaving for Louisiana the next day, the port master had told him. And only one in the harbor large enough for such a voyage. The Gironde! Anger flashed across his face as he suddenly connected all this information. They had been fooled. The Gironde was a passenger vessel after all. And this woman, Florence, was not the only female on board he guessed. He was determined to get to the bottom of this. „We should meet this evening to discuss our further business dealings. That is unless you prefer that I fetch the shop keeper you stole from.” It was not an empty threat. He would not hand her to the police himself, given his occupation. He would let the shop keeper do it for him. I have to get out of this predicament. Florence was a believer in truth when truth was the best option to escape a difficult situation. „Monsieur, this evening I am to attend a soirée at a merchant’s house. We are traveling under the care of ordained women of the Ursulines and getting out of joining them at this gathering is not possible.” Jean could barely conceal his growing anger. Ursulines? They had been beaten into retreat by nuns?! How?! „Well, then I will find a way to secure an invitation and see you there. What is the host’s name?” „I don’t know, only that he is to join us on the ship tomorrow with all his servants.” He had not doubt that she really did not know the man’s identity. But this was not hard to find out. Not that many merchants would have booked the voyage to Louisiana. He bowed. „I shall see you tonight.”