It was a sultry August Monday morning and Jean-Claude should have been out by the shores of Lake Ponchartrain reveling with the rest of his family and friends as they escaped the fetidness of New Orleans in the summer dog days. However, M'sieu Cancienne had to attend to business. He was expecting a shipment of furniture for the remodeled dining room of his Royal Street Townhouse and so chose to personally supervise its arrival and transshipment to the house.
This brief change in his domestic arrangements also allowed him to leave his family Saturday afternoon and subsequently indulge in some of his more secrets passions. For all his wealth and position, Jean-Claude enjoyed the Crescent City's seamier side whenever he could and with most of his social set out at the lake, he felt free to indulge in that aspect of his personality with little fear of staining his reputation.
On Saturday evening he roamed the dockside areas adjacent to the Decatur and Tchopatoulus Streets, dressed in work clothes. He gambled a little, drank much and flirted with the denizens in the Saloons and the cribs along the street all to his great amusement. Not so foolish as to bring any of these women home or even hint to them that he was anything more than another transient from upriver, he considered scratching his carnal itch in one of his favorite Girod Street establishments but that would have meant going home, changing and going out again. The fact that most of his favorite girls would also be out at the lake shore tending to some of his planter comrades also helped him to decide to retire a bit frustrated that evening and again on Sunday. Jean-Claude Cancienne was in great need of satisfying his lust on Monday morning.
As is the habit of many of the men of his class, Jean-Claude left the business of the household to his wife and so with the exception of Charles, his chief house servant, he was not aware of who in the staff was home and who was out at the lake. This morning Jean-Claude had allowed Charles to be hired out to a local merchant who was entertaining some very unseasonable foreign visitors and thought himself to be alone.
Unbeknownst to him, his wife had left Olympe and Fleur to oversee the removal from the attic and freshening of her autumn clothes in anticipation of the coming season.
The two women were also unaware of the Master's presence and so felt free to move about their chores with a bit more freedom and playfulness. This morning Fleur began preparations for the traditional Monday red beans and rice lunch that they would enjoy while the laundry hung to dry. Olympe meanwhile prepared the fire under the tub and kettle for the laundry, the same fire that would cook their meal for the day.
Once the food was in the pot and simmering and the laundry water was hot enough, they began to select the items that would need their attention.
The two giggled and smirked at Madam Cancienne's silken drawers and varicolored silk stockings.
"Do these beautiful things really come from Paris," Fleur inquired?
"Most do." Olympe replied. "Some come from New York and one or two are made right herein New Orleans, but the real fancy stuff is all French, right of the boat."
"Look at this here doodad," the younger girl giggled. She held up a corset of red silk bordered in black lace. The laces were black leather. Fleur held it up to her and both women laughed.
"That's one of Madame's favorites. Or maybe I should say Michie Jean-Claude's." Olympe dropped her voice to a whisper. "Whenever I set that one out, Madam always insists that he be the one to lace her up. I stood outside the door last time he did and the sounds I heard would have made Madame Marie Leveau blush crimson."
Fleur was startled by the mention of the famous Voudouienne's name but her eyes were wide with curiosity.
"What kind of sounds?" she asked.
"Chile, don't go telling me you don't know what men and women do in private."
"I overheard some of the kitchen girls say things about the men they see on Sunday down at Congo Square but they always hush up when they find I'm listening too close."
Olympe smiled. "Well judging from the way you be filling out that shift, you will find out first hand soon enough. When the time comes you will know what to do and I think you will enjoy the ride mighty fine, especially if it is Michie himself doing the riding.
"Michie?" Fleur gasped.
