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is that?” Chloe asked, wide-eyed with interest.

“Because as word of Marguerite’s magic spread, more and more people befriended her solely in hopes that they would grow rich by being near her. Henri LeRoche was the worst of the lot, though, and courted her relentlessly. Her instincts told her not to trust him, but he wore her down with endless vows of undying love until she finally gave in and married him. She truly wanted to believe he loved her, but on their wedding night, all his pretense dropped away. When she realized he’d been lying, she threatened to have the marriage annulled. He beat her and told her she belonged to him now and he’d never let her go. Apart from the physical pain, she was destroyed emotionally, and vowed never to trust or love again.”

“Until she met Jack Kingsley,” Scott said.

“Yes, but he had a tough time convincing her his love was real after all the others who had lied to her and used her.”

Chloe turned startled eyes to Scott, silently asking if that were true.

“Let’s get back to the necklace,” he prompted, wanting to avoid talk of Henri LeRoche in front of Chloe. Having John LeRoche for a grandfather was bad enough. She didn’t need to know she had a distant uncle who was a wife beater.

“When Marguerite was still living in New Orleans, an old Creole woman stopped her on the street and asked her where she got the necklace she was wearing. That’s when she found out the midwife had died the night she was born, because the woman’s friends couldn’t find the necklace even though she’d worn it constantly since the day it was given to her. Then the woman on the street told Marguerite the story of how the midwife came to own such a fabulous pearl. First, though, how familiar are you with Jean Lafitte’s life?”

“I live in New Orleans, and I’m insatiably curious.” Scott grinned at her. “How well do you think I know it?”

“Okay, then, in her younger years, the voodoo woman used to make medicinal potions for Marie Villars to give to her, um, gentleman friend.”

“Marie Villars?” Scott tapped his forehead to jog his memory. “Pierre Lafitte’s quadroon mistress. Mother to his numerous children.”

“Very good.” She smiled at him. “During the year Pierre spent in prison on charges of piracy, Jean was frantic to win his brother’s freedom. Pierre’s health was very poor since he suffered a stroke early in life, and his friends feared he’d die under such ill-treatment.”

“That was right before the Battle of New Orleans, right?” Scott asked. “Jean promised the U.S. support toward fighting the British in exchange for his brother’s release but the local government ignored him. Pierre ended up escaping prison, although no one knows how.”

Allison nodded. “Well, I don’t know all the details of his escape, but the voodoo woman had a vision that great danger was coming to New Orleans, and the Lafitte brothers would rise up to protect the city. So she went to the prison and somehow helped Pierre escape and return to Jean’s stronghold on the island of Barataria, outside New Orleans. Jean was so grateful to have his brother safe, he presented her with the pearl necklace. He said the pearl was one of the first prizes he’d ever taken and he thought it held great magic, so he gave it to her, saying he hoped it brought her as much luck as it had brought him.”

“Cool!” Chloe said. “So what about the vision? Did that come true?”

Scott looked at her. “What do you mean, did the vision come true? Jean Lafitte? Andrew Jackson? The Battle of New Orleans? Does any of this ring a bell with you?”

“Uhhh, Andrew Jackson.” Chloe scrunched her nose. “The statue of the guy on a horse in Jackson Square?”

Scott rolled his eyes. “Your second paper will be a report on the Battle of New Orleans. And yes, Jean Lafitte helped to repel the British. When Andrew Jackson arrived on the scene and saw how poorly the city was prepared to defend itself, he had no problem taking Jean up on his offer of men and arms. Without him and his band of pirates the city would have fallen.”

“So he’s like a hero?” Chloe asked.

“In that one instance, yes, people consider him a hero. No doubt, he’s one of New Orleans’s most colorful characters in history, dashing and charismatic and all that. Personally, though, I think he should have been taken out and shot rather than merely run out of town.”

“Because he was a pirate?” Chloe asked.

“No, because I’ve read some of his letters, and anyone who writes prose that purple should be put before a firing squad.”

Allison pressed a hand to her mouth to keep from laughing.

“You think I’m joking?” He lifted a brow. “Bad prose is no laughing matter, I’ll have you know.”

“Of course not.” She bit her lip, drawing his attention to her mouth.

Don’t go there, he told his wayward thoughts. Off limits, remember? “Let’s get back to the necklace.”

“All right.” She nodded. “In her diary, Marguerite talks about one of her rendezvous with Jack where he asked her about the necklace. After telling him the story, she asked if it were true that he had Lafitte’s treasure. He laughed and said, yes, his grandfather had given it to him before he died, and that he kept it in his cabin to remind himself what he came from, because he didn’t want to be like that. He wanted to be a better man, which was why he’d given up smuggling and only carried legitimate goods for Henri.”

“Wait a second,” Scott interrupted. “He kept Lafitte’s treasure in his cabin? How did he keep his men from stealing it?”

“I don’t know. I’m only telling you what Marguerite wrote in her diary.”

“Okay, go on.”

“It was also during that clandestine meeting that Jack told Marguerite about his decision to start running blockades for the Confederacy. Afraid for his life, she took off the necklace

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