The Topaz Brooch
Page 62
“Okay, but hurry.” Penny looked for the general. “I need to say goodbye to Jackson.”
“He’s at the buffet table,” Jean said. “I’ll go with you.”
The general was walking from table to table, filling his plate with shrimp, red beans and rice, warm French bread, and slices of apple.
“General,” Penny said. “Philippe’s wife just fainted. We’re taking her home, and I came to say goodbye.”
“I’ll see you and Mr. O’Grady at headquarters tomorrow, Captain Lafitte.”
Rick returned in time to hear the general. “We’ll be there, sir, unless we have to take Mrs. Fontenot away for her health.”
“Please let me know how she’s doing,” the general said.
Rick shook his hand. “Thank you for asking us to join your staff.”
“Before you go, I have two questions for you, Mr. O’Grady. I’ve never heard a song like the one you sang. You have a fine voice, and even though the song was unfamiliar, it was quite catchy. Mrs. Jackson would like to hear you sing. If you’re ever in Tennessee, please come visit.”
“And the second question?” Rick asked.
“You aren’t a special agent for the secretary of war, are you?”
“No, sir, but I did go to Barataria, and I wanted to work on your staff. I thought that would get your attention.”
“It did, all right. And you never said no to any of my requests. You’re a good soldier.”
“Marine, sir.” Rick came to attention and saluted. “And you’re one hell of a commanding officer. It’s been an honor to serve under you.”
Penny grabbed a cookie off the table and glanced around, looking for Jean, but he’d disappeared. She gobbled up the cookie before struggling back into the court train. “Okay,” she told Rick. “I’m ready to go.” They left the gallery, and she saw Tommy standing near the door. “I didn’t see you earlier. Are you feeling okay tonight?”
He touched his arm, which was in a cleaner sling tonight. “Much better. I’m goin’ home soon. Miss Sophia just gave me a paintin’ of the general and me.” He held it up for Penny and Rick to see. “She already gave me a paintin’ to give my wife. But this one is special.”
“I’m sure it is,” Penny said.
“Here’s something else,” Rick said. “Your arm will keep you from doing heavy work for a while, so this should take care of you and your family. Don’t tell anyone you have it.” Not even your wife.” Rick put a small leather pouch in Tommy’s hand. “There’s enough gold in there to buy a small farm and hire a man to work for you.”
“I don’t want this.” Tommy tried to return it, but Rick shook his head to cut him off.
“You’re doing me a favor,” Rick said. “Please take it and eat a pecan pie for me.”
Tommy chuckled. “I’ll do that and eat one for me too. Thank ya.” He slipped the pouch inside his sling. “Miss Sophia said you’re leaving soon.”
“We are, so we probably won’t see you again,” Rick said.
“It’s been an honor.” Tommy saluted them.
“We want to hear great things about you. So do good.” Rick returned the salute. “Carry on, soldier.”
As they moved away from Tommy, Penny said, “That was so nice. I think he’ll spend it wisely, don’t you?”
“I just hope it fixes the future.”
“What do you mean?”
Rick’s voice was low and carefully measured. “You don’t know who his descendants are, do you? No one told you.” His lips pressed into a flat, thin line. “I fucked up. I’m sorry. It was my responsibility, and I forgot.”
She focused on his face and his words, and her gut churned. She wasn’t going to like this at all. “You. Forgot. What?”
Rick threw a glance over his shoulder toward Tommy. “He’s um… He’s your seven-times-great-grandfather.”
She looked at him with blatant disbelief. “My grandfather?”
“Seven-times-great-grandfather.”
“And you forgot?”
He shrugged. “It’s not like we’ve had extra time to chit-chat over coffee.”
“In all these weeks, we could have made time to talk over one cup, at least.”
“You’re right, Penny. I don’t have an excuse. It fell through the cracks, but it wasn’t intentional.”
“So, you knew all about him before you came back for me?”
“It showed up in the research Meredith did. Look, here’s the thing. If we hadn’t come back, he would have died in the battle, and his brother would have married his wife and abused her and Tommy’s child. That abuse and alcoholism would have cycled through generations of Malones.”
Her stomach dropped toward her knees. “I wish I’d known.”
“What would you have done differently?”
“Spent more time with him and learned about his family and his home. I’ve never heard any family stories of abuse or alcoholism, so it stopped somewhere in seven generations.”
“Maybe it did in your family, but I had a gunnery sergeant in Afghanistan. His Malone line suffered from both.”
“God, this is just awful. But it will be better now, right? For your sergeant? You can check in with him. See how different he is.”
A muscle hardened in Rick’s jawline. “He died when an IED hit our Humvee.”
“Our?” He nodded, and she let out a soft gasp. “You were injured, weren’t you?”
“Not as bad as my sergeant.”
She stroked his arm. “I’m so sorry. Being the lone survivor is hell. You never get over asking why you survived, and there are never any answers. I wish I could do something to help you.”
“You did, Penny. You came back here and gave us a chance to save Tommy, and ultimately, maybe my gunnery sergeant.”
She looked back at Tommy, holding his painting as tenderly as one would hold a baby. “I want to give him a hug.”
Rick patted her hand that was squeezing his arm. “You can, babe, but he might think it’s a bit strange.”
“You’re right, but I wish there was something I could do for him.” She climbed down a couple of steps, tugging on her ear while she thought about Tommy. “Wait a minute. There is something I can do.” She removed her earrings and returned to Tommy.
“I have a gift for your wife, but this has to be a secret.” She held his hand, palm up, and placed the diamond earrings there, then closed his fingers over them. “Tell her these are from a distant cousin in New York City.”
He shook his head. “Oh, no. I can’t—”
“Yes, you can.” Then she kissed his cheek because she didn’t want to hug him and hurt his arm. “Bye, Tommy.” She didn’t linger, but hurried back to Rick, layering her anger on top of her sadness. She was pissed that no one told her about her seven-times-great-grandfather. When she reached Rick, she said sharply, “Now I want to know how you found him.”
“Meredith made the connection. It’s a long story. Let’s get out of here.”
“Seriously? That doesn’t make any sense.”
“If you know Meredith, it does.”
“Ha! I know her, and nothing about her makes sense.”
He rolled his shoulders in a defensive move. “You don’t know the real Meredith.”
“I know the only one I care to know.”
“You met her at a difficult time. She’s not always like that.”
“God, I hope not. But for me, once burned, twice shy.” Rick helped her down the steps managing a long gown and a court train, and they reached the lobby without mishap. “I can walk. It’s not that far.”
“My horse is outside,” Rick said. “Can you ride astride in that dress?”
“I might look like Lady Godiva, but I can manage.”
By the time they reached the sidewalk, Jean was holding open the door to his carriage. “Your chariot awaits, mon Capitaine. As soon as I find Dominique, we’ll come to the Fontenots’ house.”
“I don’t want to take your carriage. I can ride Rick’s horse.”
“Not tonight, my dear.” He lifted her and set her down on the leather seat. “I’ll return the horse to the livery.”
Rick shook Jean’s hand. “Thanks for everything.”
“Take care of her,” Jean said.
Penny stuck her head out the window. “We’re just going up the street. This isn’t goodbye.”
Jean reached for her and held her by the back of her neck, pulling her toward him. “Please don’t slap me.” Then he kissed her, stripping the walls of her world away, and it was sweet and real and tasted like champagne—a kiss she didn’t want to end, and never would forget.
And then he slowly released her, his eyes glistening in the moonlight. He knocked on the side of the carriage, it rattled off, and she sat there in stunned silence, not sure what to do or what to say.
She didn’t look at Rick, who sat opposite her in silence, and she didn’t know what he was thinking. Maybe someday she’d ask if Jean’s kiss bothered him, but not right now.
Before her heart could return to its regular rhythm, the carriage lurched to a stop in front of the Fontenots’ residence.
Rick alighted. “Hold your court train, and I’ll carry you to the steps.”
“No, I’ll walk.”
“Don’t be ornery, Penny. You’re wearing millions in diamonds. Let me do this.”
She held the train and dropped into his arms.
He grunted. “Your clothes must weigh fifty pounds.”
“Yeah, don’t I know it. You should try dancing in this getup.”
He chuckled. “I loved dancing with you. You didn’t try to lead, either.”
“As soon as you took my hand and put your other one on my back, you locked me in. All I could do was follow.”
“And you followed gracefully. We moved across the floor like we’d been dance partners for years. The men in the audience were drooling.”
She laughed. “So were the women.” He set her down at the bottom step and held her train while she climbed up the Fontenots’ front stairs. “Are we really going home tonight?”
“That’s the plan. We weren’t sure Rhona would have the energy to go to the ball, but she was determined.”
“I wish you had told me she felt so bad.”
“She didn’t want anyone to know. She wanted to visit with her friends one last time.”
“I can understand that.” Penny stopped at the door and thought back to the first time she came here with Jean. They didn’t know what to expect, and here she was again, not knowing what was about to happen because the others had planned their exit without her input.
Going home was scarier than the thought of staying here forever.
She had a hundred different emotions ricocheting around in her system right now—fear and sadness being the headliners—yet still, when Rick opened the Fontenots’ front door without knocking, she slow-walked across the threshold with only a little hesitation.
They entered the parlor, and Penny was surprised by all the portmanteaus and domed oak trunks stacked against the wall. How could they possibly get them all home?
Rhona lay on the sofa with Marguerite on one side, holding her hand, and Remy on the other, taking her vitals.
“We’re all here,” Philippe said. “Everything is packed, and we’re ready to go. What’s next? We never talked about going back through the fog.”
“We were too frightened,” Rhona said. “The first time wasn’t a barrel of laughs.”
“No, it wasn’t,” Philippe agreed.
“This will be much easier,” Pete said. “Soph and I have been back and forth so many times it’s getting boring.”
Soph laughed. “We have different definitions for the word boring. You think sitting on the swing drinking wine is boring.”
“That’s because I’m a domestic beer kind of guy—consistent and solid.”
They both laughed and fell into a passionate embrace.
“Boring to me,” Churchill said, “is having no wind in the sails for days.”
“Now that’s boring,” Pete said, breaking away from Soph. “So, where should we go, Rick, considering Rhona’s health?”
“I thought about going straight to Virginia, but now I think we should go back to the rental house in New Orleans. You probably should at least call Roy to let him know we found Penny shacked up with some guy in the bayous.”
Penny whirled on Rick. “Seriously? You’d do that to me? What about my reputation?”
“Would you prefer I tell him you spent six weeks with a pirate?” Rick asked.
“Jean isn’t a pirate.”
“Case closed.” Rick grinned. “So this is what I think we should do. Return to the rental house and let David establish new identities for Philippe and Rhona.”
“We can’t keep our names?” Rhona asked.
“You can’t show up now and claim you were stranded on an uncharted tropical island. The cops would never believe it. It worked for Gilligan, but it’s a no-go for you. You’ll need new birth certificates, passports, social security numbers, credit cards. Everything from soup to nuts.”
“We could use my maiden name Arées,” Rhona said.
“I’m not French,” Philippe said.
“No, but you speak French,” Rhona said, “and you could pass for a Frenchman.”
“I’d rather use Baird, Rhona’s father’s name,” Philippe said. “Philippe and Rhona Baird.”
“You don’t have to decide right this minute,” Rick said. “Let’s get back and figure out what’s next.”
“Rick, I had your trunk sent over with Pete and Sophia’s,” Marguerite said. “And Jean had Penny’s sent over earlier.”
Penny’s eyes darted back and forth as she followed the conversation while a hollow ache expanded inside her.
“Looks like all the bags are here,” Rick said. “We need to place them in a circle with the ends touching. The family did this once before when several members traveled back to Napa in 1881. They sat on the trunks and looped arms, and the people and the luggage all arrived without a problem.”
“Let’s get to work,” Pete said.
Rick, Remy, Pete, and Philippe unstacked the trunks and arranged them in a tight circle with corners touching.
The room became a confused and bizarre spectacle, and Penny wasn’t a part of it. She was standing on the outside, emotionally separated from the bustle and excitement.
“We have four men, a child, and three women,” Rick said. “Let’s alternate the men and women, and put Remy between Rhona and Churchill.”
“That sounds like you’re admitting I’m the strongest,” Remy said, flexing his biceps.
“You are,” Rick said. “You’re also the youngest, except for Churchill. If we scatter, Rhona needs to be with you, and I want to be with Penny.” Rick pointed to a trunk. “Sweetheart, why don’t you sit here? Philippe can sit on your left side, and I’ll sit on the right next to Sophia.”
Penny’s scalp prickled. This was happening too fast. She clutched the edge of the pianoforte, hoping it would keep her from being swept up in the madness.
“Wait!” she shouted. “I’m not ready.” She paused for a breath, another one, and another one, and finally managed to calm down a bit. “Look, we told Jean we’d wait. So let’s hold up a bit before we take our places. He and Dominique will be here. Let’s have a glass of wine and relax before we go through that”—she twirled her index finger—“that whirlwind, foggy thing.”
Rick hugged her, and she wanted her anxiousness to slough off her like an old skin, but even in his arms, she couldn’t shed it.
“He’s not coming, Penny,” he said.
“Of course, he is. He said so.” With her eyes locked on his, she took his hands and clasped them in her own. She wanted to convince him of what she believed with all her heart. “He said so, and he wouldn’t lie to me.”
Marguerite put her arm around Penny’s shoulder. “Rick told him you’ll disappear in a fog, and there will be nothing left behind. J
ean couldn’t bring himself to watch you vanish.”
“He could close his eyes. He wouldn’t have to watch.”
Everything flowed around her like a creek around a stone, and she was unsure of where to go or what to do next. As much as she hated Jean weeks ago, she loved him now and didn’t want to leave him without saying goodbye. “He promised he’d come.” She shoved away from Rick and Marguerite. “I don’t believe you. He’ll be here.” She rushed over to the door, but Rick got there first.
“He’s not coming, Penny. We planned it this way.”
“Planned what?” She blew out a breath, making her heart corkscrew against her ribs. “What did you plan?”
“That when it was time to leave, he didn’t want to be here. He kissed you goodbye. That’s the way he wanted it.”
“What about me? What about what I want? Don’t I matter?” She glanced across the room, trying to figure out what to do next, and in the corner, she spotted a portrait of herself. She walked toward it slowly, and it was like walking into a mirror. In the full-length painting, she was dressed just as she was right now, tiara, necklace, ruby-red shoes.
“How did you do this?” she asked Soph.
“Jean planned it all, Penny. He wanted to control your farewell. He wanted your adventure to end happily.”
“But he doesn’t want to watch me go.”
Rick sat down at the piano and played a tune she didn’t recognize, but it was slow and calming, and he sang to her with his eyes.
“Have you ever been with a loved one while they were dying?” Marguerite asked.
The music and the question threw Penny off-kilter. “What does that have to do with anything?”
“Have you?” Marguerite asked.
“Yes. My mom, two grandmothers, and an older woman who had been my client. She didn’t have any family, so I sat with her while she took her final breaths. It’s hard, but I had the guts to do it.”
“Then you know how painful it is,” Marguerite said. “Jean has held men he loved as brothers while they died in his arms. It’s not for lack of courage that he’s not here. He didn’t trust himself. He was afraid that at the last minute, he would ask you to stay, and you would try to do it for him and that it would hurt you and Rick deeply. Don’t ever doubt his love for you, or Dominique’s. He couldn’t watch you leave either.”