“Are you a scoundrel, Blaise Mignon?”
“I am a half-scoundrel, but then all of us are.”
“I think you’re right.”
“Good,” Blaise said. “Now I will need to disguise myself as a respectable man. Your grandmother, of course, will remember me, but I need to be a bit more presentable. Do you have enough money for a new suit to clothe a respectable man?”
“I will make it myself.”
Blaise Mignon laughed and reached out and put his hands on her shoulder. “The Augustines,” he said, his eyes sparkling, “are in for a shock!”
PART TWO
• SEPTEMBER–OCTOBER 1833 •
Blaise
Chapter eight
Leonie paused to look around her room briefly and for a moment was overwhelmed, an emotion that confused her. Ever since she had heard of the possibility of finding her family, she had been thrilled with excitement, but now, for some reason, fear brushed its fingers across her spirit, and she stood bolt upright and stared blankly at the wall.
What if it’s not true? What if it’s all part of a moneymaking scheme on the part of Monsieur Mignon?
The thought of losing the only hope she had ever had of touching her past loomed large in her mind. Especially now, since Madam Honore had mentioned possibly giving up the shop. Her arthritic hands continued to worsen, and the woman could sew less and less.
But that worry for was another day. Today Leonie must marshal her strength and go face the people who might be her blood relatives. Taking a deep breath, she picked up her purse, petted Louis, and left her room. It will be well! she told herself.
Taking one last look in the small mirror on her wall, she tucked her hair in under her bonnet and left her room. She found Blaise Mignon talking with Madam Honore, and both of them turned quickly to look at her. She saw that Madam Honore was anxious and said quickly, “I don’t think we will be gone for long, Madam.”
“Take all the time you need.”
“I can’t say when we will be back, Madam Honore,” Mignon said, “but rest assured I will take good care of Mademoiselle.”
Madam Honore turned and fixed her steady eyes on the lawyer. “I will expect you to do exactly that.”
“You do not trust me, I see.”
“Not one inch!”
Suddenly Blaise Mignon laughed. “I am accustomed to that. Prisoners in Devil’s Island get little trust, and as I was a lawyer before that part of my life, I was already used to this response from people.”
“Make sure that Mademoiselle Leonie returns safely and soon, or it will be the worse for you.”
“You forget one thing, Madam. She is my meal ticket. If anything happens to her, why, I would make nothing out of this. And we all understand that I am a very mercenary creature.”
Suddenly Madam Honore laughed. “You are a scoundrel, sir, but I think you have touched on it. You would do nothing to endanger your opportunity of making a profit.”
Mignon smiled and bowed slightly. “Exactly right.” Turning to Leonie, he said, “I think we are ready.”
The two left the shop, and Mignon handed Leonie up into the carriage. Leonie was somewhat surprised at the gesture and gave him a small smile. “Thank you, sir.”
“You’re not accustomed to being treated like a fine lady,” Mignon said with a grin, “but I expect you will have to get used to it.” He walked around the carriage, got inside, nodded, and picked up the lines. “I rented this carriage for a day since I wasn’t sure how much time we would need. Besides it’s cheaper, and I’m short of funds.”
Leonie turned as Mignon drove the carriage away from the curb, and she gave him a close look. He was wearing a new suit that she herself had made for him. It was a good job I had done of it, she thought with satisfaction. It was a rich brown color with a matching shirt, and somehow he had found himself a pair of shoes that glistened with polish. “You look almost respectable, Monsieur Mignon.”
Mignon found this amusing. He spoke to the horses as they picked up their pace, and he said, “Almost respectable. That is quite a compliment, coming from you.” He fingered the sleeve of his suit and said, “You are a fine seamstress. Madam Honore showed me the tapestry you have been working on. Do you enjoy such work?”
“Yes, I do.”
“Most women consider sewing a chore.”
“I do not find it so, Monsieur.”
“Why do you not just call me Blaise? I would like it better. Why would you enjoy the work?”
“Making a tapestry is a little like making a life, I think.”
Surprised, he turned to her and lifted one eyebrow quizzically. “And how is that?”
“When I make a tapestry, I put in the very best that I have. I make it a matter of pride to do the most elegant, the most perfect work that I can. Once you have put in a seam, it is there to stay, and I find life is a little like that. If I do the best I can, each deed is a seam that will stay there. If I do good things, then my life will be a good tapestry. If I do shoddy work, my life will be the same.”
“I would hate to see the tapestry that you made of my life. It would be a very ugly thing, I fear.”
“But it is possible to start again with a piece of tapestry. Throw the old one away and start again.”
Blaise turned to stare at her. “I believe you are preaching at me. You got that from the sisters at the convent, I assume.”
“They taught me many things. Most of all, they taught me how to trust in the Lord.”
Blaise handled the lines well and did not speak until they were clear of the city. Finally he turned to her and picked up the conversation as if there had been no intermission. “You really believe that, that we can start over?”
“Why, of course.”
“I do not.”
“How can you say that?”
“Because once I committed murder and was sent to Devil’s Island, I could never pick up my career again. No one would ever trust me. I would have been a rich, successful lawyer by now. Obviously, if there is a God, He does not favor me.”
“It was not God who caused you to fight the duel. You made that decision yourself.”
Blaise turned and stared at her, his eyes wide. She was a meek, mild young woman, gentle in spirit, but she had spoken straightforwardly, and he found it difficult to meet her gaze. “My heaven!” he exclaimed. “That’s speaking right out.”
“Are you an atheist, Blaise?”
“I was at one time. When I was in prison, life was so terrible I could not believe in the goodness of God.”
“Bad things happen to good people,” Leonie said simply.
“Yes. The patriach Job in the Bible proves that.”
“You have read that story?”
“Many times. Why, I felt like Job. He lost everything: his family, his money, his position, his health. I thought about him often when I was suffering on Devil’s Island.”
“You must not let your bad experiences poison your life. You are yet a young man. You can do many things.”
“A young man? No one has called me that for a time.” He laughed shortly and shook his head. “I find it hard to believe that God would be interested in a criminal like me.”
“Jesus died to save criminals.”
Once again Blaise was stopped short by the bluntness of her words. “I have thought of Jesus Christ so often. He’s the only thing I could not answer.”
“What do you mean?”
“I could not find a reason why an innocent man should die for sinners like me.”
“That is the great mystery of Jesus, that He could do such a thing to prove He is God, for no man could do that.”
The two rode along in silence, and strangely enough Leonie felt compassion for Blaise Mignon. He had endured much, and she knew that he was not a good man, yet somehow she had hope for him. She knew she would pray for him every day from that point onward.
Finally she asked, “If what we’re trying to do works out, and we get some money, you
’ll be able to change your life. What would you do if we got a great deal of money?”
Blaise laughed and shook his head. “Something foolish, no doubt.”
“What,” she asked, “will you do if we don’t get accepted?”
“I will live life one day at a time. That’s how I made it at Devil’s Island.” He turned and said, “What about you, Leonie? Will you be crushed if Madam Augustine and the family reject you?”
“It will be painful.” She looked out over the countryside. September brought the cool air, and the trees were beginning to lose their green. Already tints of golds and red in the hardwood leaves were beginning to show. “It will be very hard for me. All I’ve ever really wanted out of life was to have a family.”
“Well, having a family isn’t everything. Many people are disappointed in their relatives.”
“Do you have a family, Blaise?”
“I had one once. I had a wife, at least, but when I was sent to Devil’s Island, she divorced me.”
“Do you ever think of going back to her?”
“She remarried and has three children. That door is closed to me.”
“Well, another door will open,” she said and smiled.
He studied her face. She had a fair, smooth complexion—rose-colored— and now a summer darkness lay over her skin. He was struck again by the beauty of her eyes. The color was a deep gray that he had never seen in any other human being. It seemed impossible that anyone would have such clear eyes. Her lips were fixed with determination, and he noted that she had a long, composed mouth. The sunlight touched her dark hair, which lay rolled and heavy on her head, and the dove-colored dress she wore seemed to deepen the shade of her hair. “You are an attractive young woman,” he said.
Her face colored. “Why, no, I’m not particularly. I know that because I grew up in the convent with three very attractive women. I was like a sparrow among beautifully colored birds.”
“Well, we shall see. We will be at Belle Fleur soon.”
“Belle Fleur? What is that?”
“It’s the name of the Augustine mansion. You will be impressed with it, I think.” He said no more until finally he pulled off the main road and gestured with his buggy whip. “There is Belle Fleur.”
The mansion was indeed impressive. It was a three-story white house with four columns in front, two on each side of the large front door. It had eight windows across the front on the top floor, six on the second, and six on the first, all flanked by green wooden shutters. The stairs to the first floor were shaped in a half circle and led up to a very impressive porch. The estate grounds had large, old trees everywhere, almost obscuring the view from the road, and the driveway made its way to the front of the house and back again through a circle with gardens of elegantly shaped shrubs and rosebushes on each side and in the center, surrounding a massive water fountain.
“It is a beautiful place,” Leonie said. She was overwhelmed by the magnificence of the house. There were other buildings, but the house seemed to fill her eye.
Blaise stared at the mansion as they approached. “Old memories,” he murmured. “I used to come here often. Just a ways beyond the garden are the bayous. I’m told your father spent many hours there, walking, fishing, thinking. I wonder what would have happened if I had grown up in such a place? I was going to be a great lawyer and then go into politics. Why, I might have been governor. Who knows what I might have been? And I wind up at Devil’s Island. Life takes odd turns, Leonie.”
Blaise pulled the carriage up in front of the house, and a black man came and said, “Take your horses, sir?”
“Yes, if you please.” Blaise stepped down out of the carriage, walked around, and handed Leonie out. He saw her eyes were wide and thought that she seemed intimidated. “Don’t be afraid, Leonie,” he said. “Never be afraid of anything.”
The two went up the steps, and Blaise reached out and grasped the brass knocker. He struck it firmly, and when the door opened, Leonie saw a tall, stern-faced woman. Her eyes were fixed on Blaise Mignon, and Mignon said at once, “Well, do you remember me, Mrs. Danvers?”
“I remember you well enough, sir.” The woman was in her sixties, and her eyes were cold. She had brown hair speckled with gray, and she stood staring at Blaise.
“We need to see Lady Augustine, Mrs. Danvers.”
The woman at first shook her head slightly, but then she changed her mind. “I’ll see if she will receive you. You may come inside, I suppose.”
The two stepped inside, and Mrs. Danvers said, “Wait here.” Her voice was icy, and when she disappeared down the wide hallway, Blaise said, “That’s the housekeeper. She was married to the manager. Poor devil. She led him a horrible life.”
“She obviously was not glad to see you.”
“No. She never cared for me. I think she was suspicious of everyone whose name wasn’t Augustine.”
The two stood until the woman came back and said in a spare tone, “Madam will see you now.”
Leonie’s heart seemed to close for a moment, but then it began to beat faster. She felt a touch and saw that Blaise was offering his arm. She took it, and he smiled and whispered, “Courage. This is your home. These are your people. I know it!”
They followed Mrs. Danvers down the hallway. Without a word, she gestured at the door, then turned and walked away.
“And thank you, Mrs. Danvers,” Blaise smiled. He led Leonie through a pair of tall French doors into a lavish parlor. As soon as they were inside, Leonie’s eyes were drawn at once to the woman who stood at the far end of the parlor. She had risen from a couch and stood facing them.
“I did not expect to see you again, Monsieur.”
“I’m sure you didn’t, Madam, but I felt I had to come.”
“What do you want?”
“May I introduce Mademoiselle Leonie Dousett? Mademoiselle, this is Lady Maria Augustine.”
Leonie curtsied but could not say a word. She felt the woman’s eyes on her, and the thought that she might be her own flesh and blood was overwhelming. Lady Maria Augustine was a tall woman with dark hair mixed with silver. She was in her sixties, Leonie guessed, and she had the most direct gaze that Leonie had ever seen. Her eyes were brown, a rich color, well shaped and widely spaced. Her complexion was pale, and her figure was straight and trim.
“How do you do, Mademoiselle?” she murmured. Then she turned and said, “State your business, Monsieur.”
“I can understand your attitude, Lady Augustine,” Blaise said quickly, “but I have something that you need to hear.”
“State it briefly.”
A silence fell across the room, and Leonie’s eyes went to Blaise. She knew that he was weighing his chances, and she had no idea how he would bring up the subject that they had come to present to Madam Augustine. She saw him take a deep breath. Then he said abruptly, “Does this young lady look familiar?”
“Familiar?” repeated Lady Augustine, and her eyes went back to Leonie. “No, not particularly.”
“She is your granddaughter, Madam.”
Shock washed across Maria Augustine’s face. Leonie could see it. The older woman turned and stared at her, and Leonie could tell that she was shaken and even distressed by the news. She shook her head firmly and said, “What game is this? Another of your lawyer tricks?”
“If you would give us ten minutes, Madam, that’s all I ask.”
For a moment Leonie thought Lady Augustine would order them out of the house. She felt the woman’s gaze seemingly envelop her, and finally she was relieved to hear her say, “You may have your ten minutes but no more.”
Blaise spoke quickly of his release and his finding the portrait that had led him to Leonie. He held out his hand and said, “The locket, please.” When Leonie handed it to him, he in turn stepped forward and said, “You may recognize this.”
Lady Augustine took the locket and stood holding it. She was silent. Then, without lifting her eyes to the two visitors, she opened it. She stared at the
picture on the inside for a long time. “Anyone could have found this.”
“You’ll admit that it is your son, Ives.”
“Of course it is. You knew that, Mignon. Well, is this all you have?”
“No. We have this.” Mignon handed over the copy of the book, saying, “This book was found with this young woman when she was left as an infant. I think you will recognize the handwriting.”
Lady Augustine took the book and opened it. She turned the pages over slowly, and Leonie noticed that her face was pale. She looked up and her voice was different. She was shaken by the experience. “Anyone could have found these items.”
“That is true, but if you will examine this young woman, you will see the resemblance she has to Ives. I knew him well. Not as well as you, naturally. He was your son, and you will notice that this young woman has the same dimple in her cheek. She has the same widow’s peak. Her eyes are the same shape. She resembles him greatly.”
“That means nothing.”
“Lady Augustine, I know you think I’m a cad,” Mignon said. “You have had reason to think such, but I have two reasons for being here. One is that when I was arrested and put on trial, your son, Ives, did all he could to help me. I have never forgotten that.”
“He did so against my judgment and against my husband’s.”
“His heart was gentler than yours, Madam.”
Color rushed into Maria’s face. “Yes. You are right about that. He was always a tenderhearted boy and a gentle man.” Suddenly she turned and said, “Tell me about yourself, Miss Dousett.”
Neither of them had been asked to sit, so Leonie began speaking, standing firmly in front of the woman who so filled her eyes. “I know very little to tell you. I was at the Ursuline Convent from the time of my earliest memories. The mother superior herself found me there in a basket with this locket and with this book.”
“The kind reverend mother will bear witness to that, Madam Augustine,” Blaise put in.
“They were very kind to me at the convent, Lady Augustine,” Leonie said quietly. “They gave me an education, and I had many friends there. Naturally I often wondered about my parents, but I had no idea who they might be until Monsieur Mignon appeared and showed me the painting and told me the story. That is all I can tell you.”
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