“You have no more to say?”
Leonie hesitated. “I know that Monsieur Mignon would like to make money out of this situation, but I hope you will believe me when I say that the only thing I want is to find my people.”
Lady Maria Augustine stared at the young woman for a long time. The only sound in the room was the ticking of the large ormolu clock on the mantel over the fireplace. Finally she said to Mignon, “You said you had two motives for bringing this young woman, the first to pay a debt to my son. What is the other?”
“Why, to be rewarded, of course.”
“At least you are an honest cad. I believe you always were.”
Leonie stood stock-still; she saw that Lady Maria was weighing this situation that had walked in her front door.
Finally the woman said, “You may leave these things with me. I will send for you when I have had time to consider. Where are you staying?”
“At the Black Hawk Inn.”
“You should hear from me in a few days. Now good day, sir.”
“Good day, Lady Augustine. Thank you for your time.”
Leonie curtsied and saw that the woman she hoped was her grandmother staring at her in a fixed fashion. She did not speak, so finally Leonie turned and followed Blaise out of the house. Mrs. Danvers opened the door for them and did not speak a word.
Blaise handed Leonie up into the carriage, gave the black man a coin, got in, and drove off. As they were leaving Belle Fleur, Leonie turned and took one last look at the mansion. Blaise said abruptly, “Well, that was successful. She could have thrown us out at once. Her husband would have.”
“She certainly didn’t like us.”
“She doesn’t like me, but didn’t you see how she devoured you with her eyes?”
“No, I didn’t.”
“She loved her son, Ives, better than she loved anything else. I think she saw some of him in you. I wasn’t lying when I said you resemble him greatly. You do.”
“What do you think will happen?”
Blaise suddenly chuckled deep in his chest. “I think she’ll tell the family, and all perdition will break loose.”
“They wouldn’t want me?”
“If you are who I claim you are, you would be the heiress of Belle Fleur. The rest of the family would be left out in the cold. Now, you know little of human nature, growing up around nuns, but I can tell you, my dear, in this world no one appreciates having a fortune snatched from their fingers. They will not receive you with open arms.”
Chapter nine
Dinner at Belle Fleur was always an ornate affair. On this particular Thursday evening, Maria had insisted on everything being in order. As she entered the dining room, she looked around, remembering the times that she and her husband, Ancel, had chosen the decor for it. She had always liked the dining room and even now felt a sense of pride in the beauty of it.
The large room had a bright white ceiling and dark green wallpaper with golden flocked fleur-de-lis on the upper half of the wall. The lower half was painted a dark red. The large Persian carpet was green with hints of red and gold, and the highly polished wooden floor gleamed out along the outer edges. Two floor-length windows were covered with light, airy curtains that fluttered with the breeze, and the sun’s evening glimmer of red, orange, and yellow found its way into the room, giving it an iridescent look. The table was long and wide and covered with a delicate, handmade lace tablecloth. Along with the buffet and chairs, the table was made of the best mahogany. Fine crystal, china, and silver covered the table and the buffet, where delicious and decadent food was served.
Taking her seat, Maria looked around the table, her glance touching every face. To her right was her brother, Hugh Langley, a trim man in his midforties with auburn hair and brown eyes. He smiled at her, and she had to struggle to return his smile. They all had had such great hopes for Hugh. He had started to gain recognition as a painter when his wife died, yet since that day he had given up.
“Good evening, Maria. You are looking well.”
“Thank you, Hugh.”
Next to Hugh sat Lowell Augustine, the nephew of Maria’s husband. He was a fine-looking young man of twenty-five years. He nodded and spoke to her pleasantly. “Good evening, Aunt.”
“Good evening, Lowell.”
Zara Augustine, Lowell’s sister, sat across from her brother. She was a beautiful young girl with the same wealth of brown hair and brown eyes. Next to her sat Julian Harcourt, a young man with fair hair and blue eyes. He seemed to be in love with Zara. Maria studied Julian for a moment. His father and grandfather had run through his family’s money and had designs on the Augustine estate, Maria believed, and apparently planned to live on the Augustine fortune when he married Zara.
They all waited and bowed their heads, following Lady Maria Augustine’s example. She insisted on grace before a meal and pronounced the simple blessing herself. “Thank You, Lord, for this food and for every blessing. We are grateful to You for all that You have given us, and we thank You in the name of Jesus. Amen.”
A faint echo of amens went around the room and then the meal was brought in.
First came a large pot of delicious crawfish gumbo with hot bread and fresh butter. After this came a small salad of cucumbers and tomatoes with a zesty homemade dressing, followed by the main dish of baked pork with onions, a dish of buttery, spiced green beans, mashed potatoes with fresh garlic, warm applesauce, and for dessert, hot coffee with fresh slices of pecan pie covered in heavy cream.
Maria only half listened to the account Zara was giving of the trip abroad she planned to make. She was excited about it, and Julian laughed at her enthusiasm, saying, “You’ll be bored to tears. Nothing is more boring than a long voyage on the ocean.”
Zara reached over and slapped at her suitor’s arm. “You’re spoiled, Julian!”
“I will admit it, and I would like to be spoiled more.”
Lowell said, “Lady Maria, I’ve been telling you about this mare that is such a great animal.”
“You already have three horses, Lowell. You can’t ride but one at a time, can you?”
Lowell laughed, “Not unless I was an acrobat, but this mare is going to win a lot of races, and she’s going to produce some great foals.”
“I think three horses is enough for any man, and I don’t like that racing crowd anyway.”
The conversation was amiable enough, but Hugh Langley noticed that his sister was very quiet. “Is something wrong, Maria?”
“There may be.”
Silence fell across the table.
“What is it? You’re not ill, are you?” Zara asked at once.
“No, I’m fine. But I had a visitor two days ago whom you all need to hear about.”
“What sort of visitor?” Lowell asked. “He didn’t come to court you, did he, Aunt?”
“No. It was Blaise Mignon.”
“That rascal!” Zara exclaimed. “What did he want?”
“You remember him, do you, Zara?”
“I was just a child, but I remember he was arrested and sent to Devil’s Island.”
“That’s right, he was.”
“What did he want this time, money?” Zara demanded, her eyes indignant. “When did he get out of prison? I thought he was there for life.”
“He was pardoned, I understand,” Maria said. She took a deep breath and looked around the table. “He brought a young woman with him.”
“A young woman? What sort of young woman?” Hugh asked.
“A young woman he says is Ives’s daughter.”
Zara gasped and her hand went to her breast. “Ives’s daughter? Impossible!”
“Why should it be impossible? Ives was married. Why couldn’t he have had a daughter?”
“Why, we would have known about it!” Lowell exclaimed.
“How would we have known?” Hugh said. “He was forbidden ever to come to this house. As far as I know, you and your husband never received any word from him, did you?”
> “We may have.”
Once again surprised faces met Maria’s eyes. “You never told us that you heard from him,” Lowell said. “What did he say?”
“I never saw any letters from him,” Maria admitted, “but I think he wrote. Ancel let it slip once that he had heard from Ives, but he never let me see the letter, and there may have been more. It’s very possible,” she said slowly, “that Ives and his wife had a child. We may not have known because Ancel was very unforgiving. You all know that.”
“Why, it’s ridiculous!” Zara said loudly, her cheeks flushed. “Mignon’s nothing but a criminal. How could you take his word for it?”
“There’s a little bit more than his word.”
“He has evidence, Lady Augustine?” Julian Harcourt spoke up. His eyes were fixed on his hostess, and he had a sharp, clear mind. He had studied law, and although he had not completed his work, he still had a lawyer’s mind. “Was there any physical evidence?”
“Yes, there was.”
“But who is this girl? Where has she been? How old is she?” Lowell demanded, leaning forward anxiously.
“She was left as an infant, only a few days old, at the door of the Ursuline Convent. The mother superior herself found her there.”
“And when was this?”
“Nearly twenty years ago. The young woman is nineteen now.”
“But about this evidence,” Julian insisted. “What does it consist of?”
“This.” Maria reached into the small reticule that she had brought and held up the locket. She handed it to her brother, saying, “You’ll recognize it, Hugh.”
Opening it, he said, “Why, this is Ives. No question about it.”
As the locket was passed around, Maria said, “This locket belonged to my mother. I gave it to Ives myself, and I commissioned the picture. There’s no question that it’s genuine.”
“But it could have been stolen. They could have found it,” Zara protested.
“Yes, they could.”
“What other evidence, if any?” Harcourt demanded.
“This book: The Imitation of Christ. I gave you and Ives copies at the same time, brother.”
“Yes, I remember it.” Hugh flipped through the pages and said, “Ives’s handwriting.” He passed the book on and looked at Julian Harcourt. “That’s pretty strong evidence, Julian.”
“That lawyer could have laid hold of these things a dozen different ways!” Zara protested.
“No. The mother superior says they were in the basket that the infant was left with. She’s had them all of her life.”
“But how did Mignon find out about all this? Where did he find the young woman?” Lowell asked.
Maria repeated the story of the painting and said, “There’s one more bit of evidence.”
“What is it, Aunt?” Zara asked quickly.
“The girl looks very much like Ives. There’s a strong resemblance.”
“Coincidence,” Lowell shrugged.
“You’re too young to remember Ives, but you’re not, Hugh. She has his widow’s peak, which we often commented on, and also the same dimple. She looks very much like him.” Her voice seemed to grow unsteady then. “She resembles him a great deal.”
“You’re not believing this crooked lawyer, I hope, Aunt,” Zara said.
“I haven’t decided.”
“I’ll never believe it!” Zara exclaimed.
“Well, you’ll have a chance to judge for yourself.” Maria smiled slightly. “The two of them will be here tomorrow morning. You can ask either of them anything you like.”
Hugh laughed. “Well, I must say this has been the most interesting dinner we’ve ever had.” He picked up the locket again and said softly, “I miss Ives, sister, more than you can know.”
Taking the locket from him, Lady Augustine looked down at the picture. “So do I, Hugh. So do I!”
“Keep your courage up, my dear,” Blaise said taking Leonie’s elbow. He had noticed that she was stiff with anxiety. “It’ll be all right.”
“I’m afraid, Blaise.”
“They’ll give you a hard time, but you’re going to win out. Keep your eye on Lady Maria. Remember Ives was the sun in her heaven. To have even a piece of him back again would be beyond anything she could desire.”
“But the rest of them—they won’t accept me.”
“We’ll see,” Blaise said. He knocked on the door firmly, and while they were waiting, he whispered, “You can bear the hatred of the others if you become mistress of Belle Fleur.”
The door opened, and Mrs. Danvers stood just as she had on their first visit.
“Good morning, Mrs. Danvers. I believe we’re expected.”
Mrs. Danvers reluctantly stepped back. “They’re waiting for you in the large parlor.”
“Thank you.”
As Leonie walked through the foyer, she kept a firm hold on Blaise’s arm. All night long she had tossed and turned. Ever since the invitation had come from Maria Augustine, she had been tense. Actually it had been a summons more than an invitation. Blaise had showed her the brief note: “Come to Belle Fleur in the morning at ten o’clock. Maria Augustine.”
Not exactly the warmest of notes! she thought. Still, Lady Maria had written, and now as Leonie glanced up at the portraits of Augustines, dead and gone, the thought came to her mind, My picture may be on this wall one day, and someone may be looking up and wondering who I was and what I was like even as I wonder about these.
Mrs. Danvers led them toward a large double door. “You may go in,” she said, disapproval in her tone.
“Thank you, Mrs. Danvers,” Blaise said pleasantly. He winked at Leonie, and she managed a smile. Blaise opened the door, and she stepped inside. Blaise followed, and the two stood just inside the doorway. Leonie glanced around the room at the strangers standing and staring at her, and it took all her courage not to show fear.
“You are prompt, sir, and you, Miss Dousett.”
“I imagine you’re not too surprised at that, Lady Augustine,” Blaise said smoothly.
“Not at all.” Lady Maria turned to face Leonie. “You may sit down. Indeed, let us all sit down.”
Numbly Leonie took her seat in the wing chair that Maria Augustine indicated and was glad that Blaise sat down in a chair very close to her.
“Let me introduce you to the family. This is my brother, Hugh Langley. This is my nephew, Lowell Augustine, and his sister, Zara Augustine. And this is Mr. Julian Harcourt.” Taking a deep breath, she said to the others, “And this young lady is Leonie Dousett.”
“Well, after all, that’s what we’re here to decide, isn’t it?” Blaise said quietly. “It’s possible her name is Leonie Augustine.”
Lady Maria gave the man a steely glance and said tersely, “You may tell your tale again, Monsieur.”
“With pleasure, Lady Maria.” He began telling the story of his finding of Leonie, and as he did, Leonie watched the young people in the room. Zara Augustine stared with a stark antagonism that she found difficult to meet. Why, she hates me! Leonie thought. Her eyes went to Lowell Augustine, and although he, too, showed no friendship, his stare was not as bitter. The young man, Julian Harcourt, was studying her clinically. She had no idea who he was. He wasn’t an Augustine, and Lady Maria had not explained his presence.
The one encouraging sign was the man called Hugh Langley, who was Lady Maria’s brother. He was watching her intently, but there was no antagonism in his look. He seemed curious about her, and when she met his eyes, he smiled slightly and nodded as if to say, “Keep a stiff upper lip, my dear.” He was a fine-looking man, although his eyes were red the way drinkers’ eyes get at times. He was careless in his dress, and although his clothes were expensive, they were rumpled and not at all in keeping with what she expected of an aristocrat.
When Mignon finished, he said, “Now you may ask anything you wish.”
Zara said, “I don’t believe a word of this.”
“And why not, Mademoiselle August
ine?” Blaise asked calmly.
“It’s obviously a twisted attempt at getting money.”
“It’s always possible, when a great deal of money is involved, that someone will come up with a way to get some of it.”
Zara’s face flamed, and she said, “What are you implying?”
“Why, nothing, Mademoiselle. I’m merely stating a fact. The question is, am I a charlatan? You have a right to believe it, but look at this young woman. She spent her whole life in a convent, she was found there a helpless baby, and in the basket she was found in there were two irrefutable items that belonged to Ives Augustine. Surely you don’t suggest that she is involved in a plot.”
“There are other ways. You could have found these things, and you may be lying!” Julian Harcourt said.
“All you have to do is go to the mother superior of the Ursuline Convent. She will vouch for this young woman’s history.”
“I’m afraid we’ll have to accept the mother superior’s word. I’ve already checked with her.”
“You always were very careful, Lady Maria,” Blaise said.
“It’s likely that I would be careful where something like this was concerned.” Lady Maria turned to her brother and asked, “What do you think, Hugh?”
“She has the Augustine look. Ives’s dimple and widow’s peak, and generally she resembles him.”
“Why are you doing this, Mignon?” Lowell Augustine demanded. “You’re not a member of our family.”
“You are right; I am not. But your son was kind to me, and I would like to do something for his daughter in return.”
“So you don’t care about money.”
“I would not say no to money,” Blaise said.
Julian Harcourt remained silent while Lowell and Zara fired questions at Blaise and at Leonie. Finally he said, “I think you would be unwise to take any action on this, Lady Maria. After all, there is no actual proof. It’s all circumstantial.”
“Very strong circumstance would put Ives’s locket and the book that he treasured in such a place.”
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