Bayou Beauty (Butterfly Bayou 4)

Sometimes she thought a handy family tree would be needed to maneuver through the Darois family functions.

“Ashley, I didn’t realize you were standing there,” Sylvie said with a frown. Ashley had never been the friendliest of people. She’d been in high school at the same time as Sylvie and Sera, and Ashley had ruled the school with the iron fist of a true queen bee.

“Of course you didn’t. I didn’t want you to. All the better to listen in.” Ashley had an air of what Sylvie’s mom would call ennui—a world weariness that she cultivated like style. “It’s good to know old cousin Rene is planning on playing hardball.” When Sylvie started to protest, Ashley waved her off. “No one believes this isn’t anything but a ploy to get Charles off his back. You can say whatever you like, but if Rene had been dating you, we would have known.”

Sera faced off with Ashley. “And how would you know? I assure you Sylvie and Rene have been very private. They were always going to get married. They moved up the date because of Charles’s shenanigans.”

“Shenanigans?” Ashley’s green eyes rolled. “Don’t make this sound like some teenage hijinks. I assure you there’s nothing juvenile about what Charles is doing and what he wants. He wants anything Rene has, and he’ll do whatever he needs to do to get it. Do you know how I know Sylvie and Rene haven’t been dating? Because for the last three months Charles has paid a private investigator to follow Rene around and report on every aspect of his life.”

Sylvie gasped, the invasion of privacy shocking to her. Rene had mentioned something along those lines might happen after the marriage, but the idea that someone had been watching Rene all along was disconcerting. “He did that?”

“Sure. Why wouldn’t he? After all, Rene did it to him,” Ashley said with a shrug. “Rene likes to pretend he’s this saint, but he knows how to play the game. Hell, he invented parts of this game. He learned from his daddy, and now you get to be his next pawn.”

“Pawn?” She knew she should walk away, but it struck her that she might want to at least know what kind of waters she was wading into.

A private detective? Did Rene know Charles had someone following him around? She dismissed the idea that Rene would do the same. Ashley was the one playing a game, but there could be knowledge to be gained from knowing how far she would go.

“Sylvie’s no one’s pawn,” Sera argued.

“She is if she’s actually asking why Rene chose her for his marriage of convenience.” Ashley wore a pair of jeans and a chic silk blouse, at least four inches of her height coming from a pair of Louboutins, though they were three seasons out and had seen better days. The Prada wallet on a chain wasn’t new, either.

Rene had married her because he could trust her. Nothing this woman said would change that fact, but it could be interesting to know what the rumors were. “All right, I’ll bite. Why did Rene choose me?”

“He couldn’t have chosen anyone else,” Ashley replied. “You seem to be under the mistaken idea that he had some kind of a list and you were at the top. Like if you’d said no, he would have moved on to the next lady. You were the only one he ever meant to ask because you’re the only one my aunt will accept as a reasonable quickie bride for Rene.”

None of that made a lick of sense to Sylvie. “Why? I understand why I would be the first one he went to. We’ve been friends for years and he trusts me. Rene spent a lot of time with my family.”

Ashley’s eyes rolled. “It’s all about your family. There’s one thing in Papillon Aunt Roberta respects, and it’s not your political skill or your brother’s talent with a camera. She respects your mother. She’s the tiniest bit afraid of your mother, and that’s what Rene’s counting on. You’re the one thing Charles is scared of. Aunt Roberta would reject anyone Rene brought in at this point out of sheer spite, but she’ll think twice about rejecting Marcelle Martine’s daughter.”

“My mother isn’t someone to fear. Roberta doesn’t live here anymore. She gets her hair done in Houston.” But Sylvie’s brain was already racing. Her mom had been a part of many loony schemes over the years. What had her mother done?

“Fear might be too strong a word, but I swear it’s in there somewhere. According to Aunt Roberta, your mother did tarot readings back in the day,” Ashley began. “She had a spiritual center in her salon. Does she still have that?”

She did. And she still did tarot readings. That was Miss Marcelle’s Salon. Come for the straightening, stay for the séance. “Was this before Roberta moved to Houston?”