New World, New Love

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New World, New Love Page 4

by Rosalind Laker


  ‘That was my original intention.’

  ‘Is Delphine safe too?’

  ‘Yes! She and I escaped together. And tell me that Blanche is with you!’ Louise looked eagerly beyond him for the sight of his wife. The three of them had grown up together, Alexandre at a neighbouring château and Blanche the daughter of the local doctor in the nearby village.

  ‘Yes, she’s well and happy, but not with me in New York today. As you will remember, she never liked city life. She’s upriver on our farm not far from a town called Troy where we live now with our little daughter, Henrietta.’

  ‘You have a child!’ Louise was delighted with the news. ‘My congratulations! How old is she?’

  ‘Just two and a half years. She was born in New York, but I nearly lost Blanche after the birth. Her recovery took so long that eventually a doctor suggested country air. That’s why we moved away from here and, thankfully, she began to get well again. Sadly, we’re not able to have any more children, but we’re grateful for our little Henrietta. It’s only business that brings me to the city once or twice a year. Do you have any news of Blanche’s parents?’

  ‘Only that they left for England quite early on. I should think they’re safe. I never saw their names on any guillotine list.’

  ‘Thank God for that!’ he exclaimed with relief. ‘Now, tell me, how is Fernand? You didn’t say he was here with you.’ When she shook her head wordlessly he guessed her husband’s fate and glanced about impatiently. ‘We can’t talk any more in this place. There’s a chocolate house just along the street. Let’s go there.’

  When they reached the marble-floored establishment there was a variety of hot chocolate drinks from which to choose, all served in silver pots with fine porcelain cups and saucers and a plate of sweet almond cakes to each table. Louise chose hot chocolate with cream and Alexandre a bitter one with a dash of brandy in it. Although the place was busy they were lucky enough to get a table in an alcove, which gave them the chance to talk quietly.

  They had not seen each other since he and Blanche had come to Versailles to visit her while staying in strife-ridden Paris shortly before the final eruption of the Revolution. He had been arranging his grandmother’s funeral and attending to her affairs. Then they had gone south to see to the old lady’s country estate and Louise had heard no more from them.

  ‘So tell me about Fernand,’ he began. ‘What happened?’

  ‘He was in Paris when the mob took the King and Queen from the palace. Whether he came looking for me afterwards I don’t know, because I left Versailles that same night. I had to get home to Delphine, not knowing what was happening there.’

  ‘That couldn’t have been an easy journey,’ he stated bluntly.

  She made a dismissive little gesture. ‘Others had worse. As the months went by I had no word from him, but then neither of us knew where the other was. I wrote to him at the Palace of the Tuileries. I thought he might be among the courtiers with the royal family, but no reply ever came. Life was very quiet for Delphine and myself during the many months when we were at home in the country.’

  ‘How did you pass the time?’

  ‘I dealt with the estate, saw to the accounts, and sorted the wheat from the chaff among the servants. Delphine’s governess had been having an affair with a swindling bailiff, whom my uncle had installed, and I had reason to believe she had intercepted some of my sister’s letters to me. There were also others I no longer trusted, so I dismissed them too.’

  ‘What about entertainment? There were always so many social happenings in the past.’

  ‘Sometimes friends called, but life was subdued, none of us knowing what might happen next. Most of us were hoping, as so many of the country-born aristocracy did, that we could keep things stable for the peasants and ourselves. I made use of my father’s library, reading for hours, and I taught Delphine all the dances that were so popular at Versailles. Even as a little child she loved to dance. I also coached her in English as she has a natural ear for languages. She is still very musical and practised playing her flute every day. Somehow it meant a great deal to me to hear her music in those worrying times. Then the horrific news reached us of the execution of the King and then the Queen, as well as the terrible trials taking hundreds to their death at the guillotine.’

  ‘An obscene mockery of justice and still the present orgy of slaughter goes on!’ he declared angrily, his fists clenched before him on the table. Then he drew breath. ‘But I interrupted you, Louise. Please continue.’

  ‘When our servants heard that the death sentence was also being imposed on many that served the nobility as well as the nobles themselves, they became frightened of staying with Delphine and me. All, except a couple of stable hands, left en masse overnight, and we were alone at the château. Then not long afterwards a guillotine was erected in Bordeaux. That was far too close for the stable hands, who left in panic, taking all our horses with them.’

  ‘The thieves!’ Alexandre exclaimed bitterly. ‘So Madame Guillotine was erected in Bordeaux too, was she?’

  ‘It happened in so many places.’

  ‘During the time you and Delphine were at home were you threatened in any way?’

  ‘We had a stone thrown through a window from time to time. It was an old newsheet, wrapped around one such missile, which finally told me of Fernand’s execution.’

  Alexandre, although he had not liked her husband, shook his head at the senseless slaughter. He thought to himself that life had not been easy on Louise. He remembered how dazzled she had been by Fernand’s charm, unable to see him for the man he was, but it was understandable. She’d been so young and inexperienced in the ways of the sophisticated world of Versailles in which she had been plunged, lonely, bereaved and homesick. It was no wonder that at sixteen she had believed herself to be in love with Fernand. She had not realized that as an heiress she had been the target for many mercenary young noblemen, and in her uncle’s haste to get her off his hands his choice of a husband for her had been a bad one.

  ‘Do you know if your Oncle Henri managed to escape?’ he inquired.

  She sighed. ‘He was executed a few days after the King. I lost a close friend about the same time, as well as cousins of whom I was very fond. Somebody did bring me all that terrible news. I was still wearing mourning for them when I landed here.’

  ‘So how did your escape come about?’

  She gave a smile of protest. ‘I want to hear why you and Blanche decided to settle near Troy and everything else you have to tell me.’

  ‘Afterwards.’ Then he added jokingly, ‘You know I’ll be in trouble if I can’t answer all Blanche’s questions about you when I get home.’

  ‘Then I’ll be brief. I realized that the time had come to get away and I made a simple plan that Delphine and I should dress inconspicuously and go into Bordeaux to find a fisherman I could bribe to take us across the Channel to England. I didn’t know then that a watch was being kept on all boats and escape had never been more difficult.’

  ‘I’ve heard that many would-be émigrés were caught that way.’

  ‘In any case,’ she continued, ‘time had run out. On the eve of our leaving home my loyal bailiff, Pierre, came pounding on the door to tell us to gather a few belongings and go with him at once as we were in great danger. Fortunately we had made bundles of what we could take, hoping to look like laundry maids, and so we were able to leave within minutes. Revolutionary soldiers arrived a short time afterwards and a search for us began. It’s thanks to our kind rescuer hiding us behind a false wall, that we’re alive today.’

  ‘How long were you there?’

  ‘Two months.’

  Alexandre whistled through his teeth. ‘It must have seemed like two years!’

  ‘We were thankful to be in a safe place as the soldiers were everywhere. Then two were billeted on Pierre and his wife, which meant we had to be silent as mice whenever they were in the house. We had a candle and played cards. We danced for exercise whe
never possible, and I taught Delphine how to make hats for us both out of straw, which Pierre’s wife dyed for us.’

  ‘So how did you eventually get away?’

  Louise gave a soft laugh. ‘We were smuggled in a hay cart into Bordeaux, where one of my father’s old employees, whom Pierre had contacted, kept us in his attic for another month. He worked in a government office and when he heard the Ocean Maid was being released from embargo he managed to get travelling papers for us. I believe they were forged, but I never knew for certain. They were closely scrutinized by guards before we went on board, but they let us pass.’ Louise sat back in her chair, relieved her account was over. ‘Now Delphine and I are working for a milliner and all is going well.’

  ‘Thank God for that!’ he said with feeling.

  In his turn he explained that he had realized early on that France was falling into chaos and his one thought was to get his pregnant wife to safety. ‘We stayed for a while on my grandmother’s estate not far from Marseilles, where we were lucky enough to get passages on a foreign ship. I’d brought enough gold with me to establish us securely here. My only regret is that our daughter won’t be growing up at my old home. I had the happiest childhood there that anyone could have. As you know so well, I had inherited it only three months before my grandmother died. Blanche and I had no idea when we left for Paris that we would not see our château again for some years.’

  Louise, distress clouding her face, reached across the table and put her hand over his. She had been dreading this moment when their conversation would turn inevitably to his home. ‘I have some bad news to tell you, Alexandre.’

  His face stiffened. ‘What happened? Was it looted?’

  ‘Worse than that.’ Her clasp tightened. ‘It was burned down during the time Delphine and I were hiding in Pierre’s cellar. Pierre said that the soldiers broke into the wine cellar and went on a drunken rampage.’

  Alexandre looked down at her hand, automatically returning her clasp. ‘Blanche and I have always thought of our time here as a transitory period before going home again one day to our roots.’ He was silent for a few moments. Then he raised his head and looked at her. ‘At least I’ve heard the news from you, who spent almost as much time in my home as Blanche and I did in yours.’

  ‘You still have your grandmother’s estate.’

  He shook his head. ‘Neither Blanche nor I would ever have wanted to live there. Before we left the property, I sold it all to a neighbour who had always wanted my grandmother to sell the land to him, since his own ran alongside its boundaries. I told him why I was taking my wife out of France, but he was undeterred by the unrest at the time, believing that everything would settle down again. How mistaken he was!’ He looked down unseeingly at her hand, frowning thoughtfully. ‘So, my château has gone to ashes. I didn’t know I was burning my boats completely in bringing Blanche to the New World.’ Again he sat in silence, coming to terms with the destruction of his hopes of ever returning home, and she felt full of pity for him. Then resolutely he raised his head and spoke on a brighter note, not aware that sadness still lingered in his eyes. ‘Now that’s enough about the past. How soon can you and Delphine visit us? Blanche will be impatient to see you again.’

  ‘And I to see her and Henrietta. It can’t be yet, but it will be as soon as possible.’

  Alexandre walked back with her to the horse market, where they parted affectionately with promises to keep in touch. Then he left to go about his own business and she to find Mr Pomfret. Although she ran most of the way back to the shop, Miss Sullivan was still furious that she had taken so long over her errand.

  In spite of her insignificant position in the workshop, Louise continued to be highly ambitious. Unlike Delphine, who resented every day there, she welcomed the chance to learn everything about the millinery trade. She had soon found that Miss Sullivan was receptive to her suggestions as to how the straw hats could vary in shape and trimmings. It led to her taking part sometimes in making the other millinery, which she enjoyed, and it also brought about a slight increase in her wages. Delphine made no attempt to hide her boredom, and was often slow in finishing a task. Louise began to fear that she would be dismissed once the stock of straw hats was deemed sufficient.

  By now the two apprentices had mastered the intricate straw-weaving and Louise saw a chance to get Delphine work that should be of more interest to her. All the hats sold by Miss Sullivan were in the height of fashion, abundantly and elaborately trimmed with flowers, feathers and fancily tied bunches of ribbons, which she ordered regularly from a supplier.

  ‘My sister is skilful at making flowers and trimmings out of silk ribbons and other materials,’ Louise said to the milliner when the opportunity arose. ‘She made the pink roses on her straw hat.’

  Miss Sullivan had noticed that they were exceptionally well made and thought immediately of the money she could save if Delphine’s work kept up to that standard all the time. ‘Very well. I’ll let your sister show me what she can do.’

  Delphine took up the new work without enthusiasm, even though it appealed to her artistic nature and the milliner was pleased with the results. It was all so different from making pretty things for her own pleasure. She hated every day in the workshop more and more, feeling as confined as a bird in a cage, and was sure she would start screaming aloud if it went on much longer. At least when she and Louise had been hiding in Pierre’s cellar there had always been the hope that the next day they would get away, which had kept her spirits up. But at the present time she could foresee no end to her present daily grind.

  It cheered her when in celebration of her sixteenth birthday Louise bought two tickets for a play at the John Street Theatre. They wore their best gowns and Louise had obtained good seats. Delphine was consumed by excitement. She had as much pleasure from seeing the bejewelled and elegantly dressed patrons in their boxes as she did from the performance itself. Afterwards they had a little celebratory supper at home. Throughout the next few days Delphine was often lost in thought, her hands falling idle in her lap as if the magic of the evening was still with her, and she was reprimanded several times.

  It was an overcast morning in early May when Miss Sullivan looked up from her rosewood and ormolu desk to see Daniel Lombard enter her shop. Swiftly she went to meet him, anticipating another good sale.

  ‘Good day, sir. Did your sister like the hat that I shipped to her?’

  ‘The hat? Oh, yes. She was very pleased with it, but I’m not here for another one today. My reason for calling is that I should like to have Madame de Vailly’s address.’

  Miss Sullivan was taken aback and her brows arched. ‘I couldn’t do that without her permission and I think she would be unlikely to give it.’ Louise’s cool farewell to him on the hat-buying day had not escaped her notice.

  ‘Then allow me to ask her myself.’

  ‘Out of the question! I have a rule that my employees cannot interrupt their work for any social reason.’

  He roamed restlessly around the showroom. ‘Come, come, ma’am, there’s no need for anyone’s work to be interrupted. You can give me the information easily enough. Let’s have no more prevaricating.’ His glance fell on some gauzy stoles and he picked up one at random, which shone delicately with silver threads, and tossed it on to her desk, knowing that it would be expensive. ‘I’ll take this.’ Then, as he drew some golden dollars from his pocket into his gloved palm in readiness to pay, he added crisply, ‘And so where does the widow live, ma’am?’

  Previously, when Louise had displayed the hats for him, he had noticed that she wore a wedding ring. Although she had come to America on her own with her sister, he wanted confirmation that she did not have a husband in France or elsewhere in exile.

  ‘You’ve made the most irregular request, Mr Lombard.’ Miss Sullivan did not want to antagonize him now, or else he might change his mind about taking the stole. She hated to lose a customer who chose what he wanted without asking the price. She was well aware
that his purchase was a sop to her protests, but she felt her dignity demanded a final show of reluctance. ‘It is against my principles.’

  She saw him pick up another gauzy stole, sparkling with gold threads this time and double the price of the first, and she caught her breath slightly.

  His sharp glance shot towards her as if she had spoken. ‘Well, ma’am?’

  ‘I’ve been thinking,’ she said without further hesitation. ‘As you are already acquainted with the young widow, it is a different matter. I’m sure Louise would have no objection.’ She hoped he realized that she had given him a bonus in letting slip the Frenchwoman’s Christian name in case he did not know it already.

  ‘Thank you, ma’am. I look forward to doing business with you again.’

  He departed with his purchases, which at his request she had packed separately, the pink-striped boxes tied with ribbons. Miss Sullivan went to the door and peered after him through the glass panel. He was not a man to be thwarted, she thought, and considered him all the more dangerous for it.

  Four

  That evening Daniel had no difficulty in finding the address he had been given. It was in one of the old Dutch houses. He entered the dingy hallway, thinking he would have plenty of stairs to climb, but instead he found Louise’s name on a door at his right hand. He drew off a glove and knocked. A most appetizing aroma wafted out as Delphine opened the door to him. In her surprise she did not speak.

  ‘Good evening, mademoiselle,’ he said with a smile, before looking beyond her into the candlelit room. Instantly he was reminded of paintings of Dutch interiors. The walls were panelled, the floor black and white tiles, and an old red tapestry rug, which in its heyday would have graced a fine Dutch table, had been hung across the window as a curtain. Louise, a striped apron tied around her waist, was stirring a cooking pot on the range, the glow of the fire flickering over her face and creating a golden nimbus about her figure. She straightened up as she saw him, the spoon dripping in her hand.

 

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