Colin could hire more help and get along without Eugenie and Simon, but he’d be hard-pressed to find help as devoted to Belle Fleuve or as trustworthy, so eventually he gave in to Eugenie’s demand.
He handed the letter to Marie without opening it. Grabbing her brother’s hand, she took Damian upstairs and closeted them in their room. An hour later they sought him out.
“How long is Kate going to have to stay in New Orleans? If it’s for a long time, then when are you going to take us to visit her?” Marie wanted to know.
“She’s missing us too much,” Damian added.
Their guileless faces had the effect of a bucketful of water tossed on his head. With his temper gone, he had to remind himself that Kate was the source of his public humiliation. The one person in the world he should trust had deceived him.
As the weeks had passed Colin found himself missing Kate more than he ever imagined possible. For someone who had been part of his life for no more than a handful of weeks, she had wormed her way into his heart and mind. But despite how much he yearned for her, his pride wouldn’t let him apologize until they were on equal footing. Not until he had a way to repay her and had something to offer.
Had she taken up her old life in New Orleans? Kate was as resilient as a cat. By now she’d surely recovered from the shock of his rejection. No doubt she was surviving. She had her work and enough money to live the grand life she was accustomed to, but did she miss him at all?
The sky opened up as he rode back to the house. Lightning cracked overhead. He dismounted just inside the horse barn and handed the reins to a boy — probably a year or two older than Marie — that Simon had put to work in the stables. Colin studied the boy’s round face and dark eyes.
“What’s your name, son?” Colin’s mind had been elsewhere when Simon told him before.
“Edward, sir.”
“Thank you, Edward. Be sure to rub him down,” he added.
“Yes, sir.”
As the boy started to walk the horse toward its stall, Eugenie came running out of the kitchen and into the barn, holding her apron over her head. Worry furrowed her brow like the billows of a Cajun’s concertina.
“Mr. Colin, we’ve got trouble,” she shouted over the pounding rain of a cloudburst.
“What is it?” He steeled himself against bad news. If anything had happened to Kate —
“I can’t find the children anywhere. They’re gone.”
Eugenie had endured slavery, war, and heartache. She didn’t scare easily, but she was clearly frightened now. Colin tamped down rising panic and looked out the stable doors through a curtain of rain.
“They have to be around somewhere. Have you looked through the house? Checked all the rooms and cupboards?”
“All of them.”
“They’re probably out treasure hunting.”
“They usually don’t go any farther than the garden, and especially not in a rainstorm.”
“They might be hiding from us.”
“They aren’t here. Damian can’t stay still or quiet all that long, and I’ve been looking for them for a good half hour.”
Colin nodded toward the back of the barn. “Ask Edward to leave my horse saddled and bring it round to the door. Have Simon come help me search the house.”
He knew he was the last person the children wanted to see. They had made that abundantly clear ever since he had come up with excuse after excuse for not taking them to visit Kate.
Upstairs he found their hobbies spread out over a low worktable Simon had made for them. Marie’s watercolors covered most of the surface along with her paints and glasses of mud-colored water. Damian’s treasure map lay forgotten on the floor near his alphabet blocks. The map had been folded and unfolded along the same crease lines so many times that it was worn through. The boy rarely left it anywhere. Colin picked it up and fingered the page as he looked around.
On the table, along with Marie’s watercolor supplies, were a McGuffey Reader and an atlas of Louisiana and its counties that Kate had retrieved from the garçonnière.
Kate had been teaching them to read maps in the atlas and to understand distance and miles and hours and measurement. They’d been learning about the river and its tributaries, the marshes and bayous as well as the roads.
Colin picked up the atlas and found a scrap of paper marking the page that showed a map of River Road and routes to New Orleans. The children had become distant and secretive since he’d given them Kate’s letter and had declined his invitations to take them to visit the Boltons or other planters nearby. He had figured the moping would eventually end.
As he began to suspect where they’d gone, he moved as quickly as his ankle allowed.
Making his way downstairs, he found Edward at the back of the house waiting with his horse. Eugenie was there along with two of the men. They all looked more worried than before.
“They’re not there. I’m going to look for them on the road,” he announced.
The rain had stopped, though gray clouds still threatened. The stable boy was staring at him until Colin met his gaze, and then he looked at the ground.
“You know something, son? Tell me.” Colin glanced at the men watching him in silence. “Do you, Edward?” He kept his tone even, but he was anything but calm.
Edward cleared his throat before he could speak. “Yesterday afternoon they asked me do I know how far it is to N’awlins. I said not for sure, but I heard it was purty far.”
“Did you see them this morning?”
“No, sir. If they left the house they must have gone out the front. I got a clear vision of the back door from the stables and I ain’t seen ‘em all mornin’.”
Colin led his horse to the wooden mounting block Simon had built for him. Once he was in the saddle, he turned to Eugenie. She still hadn’t forgiven him for making Kate leave.
“I’ll find them,” he promised.
She gave a silent nod but looked less than hopeful.
He headed out, skirting around the house, and rode between the lines of live oaks standing sentry along the allee, as they had for over one hundred years. Planted by his French ancestors, the oaks had survived two wars, four flags, life, death, and every drama in between. Colin hoped to find the children on the property, perhaps sheltered beneath the wide limbs and branches of one of the oaks, but he reached River Road without any sign of them.
How far could two children get on foot? He pictured Damian urging on the more cautious Marie. They were babes with no experience of the world at large. They knew nothing of the dangers of the marshes and swampland beyond the fields or of strangers with false smiles. He prayed no one had picked them up.
Colin stayed on the road. Whatever tracks the children might have left had been erased by the last cloudburst. Rain was falling again with annoying steadiness. He glanced up at the low-hanging gray clouds. Down the road, he saw something black bobbing along. His top hat kept little rain out of his eyes, so he had to wipe his face with the back of his coat sleeve and look again.
Whatever he thought he had seen had disappeared. He rode on and found himself at the end of a lane that led to Langetree, a plantation recently purchased by a Northerner. He debated inquiring at the house until his gaze was drawn to a magnolia in a stand of trees near the drive. Two umbrellas formed a shelter near the base of the tree. The toes of two small pairs of shoes showed beneath the edge of the umbrellas.
Relieved beyond words, Colin nudged his horse into motion and walked the animal closer to the umbrellas. He didn’t move or say a word. His horse tossed its head.
“You may as well show yourselves.” He had to raise his voice to be heard over the rain drumming on the fabric of their umbrellas.
After a bit of frantic whispering, the children pulled in the toes of their shoes and lowered the umbrellas even farther. Colin sighed, dismounting with care.
Once he was on the ground he realized he’d made a tactical error. He had no way to mount up again. It would be a long,
painful walk back — but at least he wouldn’t return empty-handed.
“You gave Eugenie quite a scare, you know.” He tapped his riding crop against his thigh. Not to mention me.
“Are you going to whip us?” It was Damian’s greatest fear. Colin slipped his riding crop back into a loop on his saddle.
“Of course not, but I am upset with you. You scared everyone. We had no idea where you went.”
They raised the umbrellas. Marie stared across the road and refused to look at him.
“We’re going to New Orleans to live with Aunt Kate,” Damian said. His sister shoved her elbow into his rib. He cried out, “Ow! We wanna see her,” he continued. “We miss her.”
The ache in the boy’s voice irritated Colin. He’d done everything he could for them and still they wanted Kate. For that matter, so did he.
“Will you please take us to see her, Uncle Colin?” Damian begged.
“Not in this rain. I’ll be lucky if we don’t all catch our death of cold.”
Marie turned to him with terror in her eyes.
“That’s just a figure of speech. No one’s going to die of a cold.” Not if he got them back quickly and into hot baths. Most likely Eugenie already had water boiling.
“Will you take us soon?” Damian asked.
“This isn’t the time to discuss it.” Colin noticed the rain had stopped again. “Get up and let’s get going before it starts pouring again.” Rain still dripped from the trees and plopped on the carpet of dry leaves around them.
Marie got to her feet and pulled Damian up beside her.
“Kate said in her letter that she hoped we could visit.”
“It’s very, very far, isn’t it?” Damian sounded discouraged by the hike.
“Too far to walk.” Colin turned toward the road. “We’d better get going.”
Marie stalled. “We won’t go until you promise you’ll take us to visit Aunt Kate.”
Colin wasn’t ready to see Kate for fear he’d beg her to forgive him, beg her to come back home. He had nothing to offer yet and his pride wouldn’t let him forget. He couldn’t go after her until they were on equal footing.
Marie tapped her foot against the soggy grass. She wasn’t giving in.
“Perhaps Eugenie will take you. Cora can go along too, and you can all spend the day together in New Orleans. When the weather is better, that is. Now let’s go home.”
Damian turned to Marie. She shrugged.
“All right,” Damian told Colin. “We’ll go.”
They folded up their umbrellas and picked up the damp bundles that probably contained no more than their nightclothes. Not even the precious treasure map. They’d been willing to leave everything behind to see her.
Together the three of them slowly trudged up the road toward Belle Fleuve in silence. Colin led his horse. It was slow going and his ankle was aching after five minutes of struggling on the muddy road. He was about to call a halt to their forlorn little parade when he spotted Simon driving the wagon up the road.
Simon climbed down off the seat and helped Colin onto his horse. Once Colin was back in the saddle, Simon loaded the silent, bedraggled children into the wagon.
“Eugenie made you some hot cocoa,” Simon told them. “Bet that’ll taste good right about now. But first she’s gonna dunk you in a hot bath. Chase the cold out of you.”
“Can we have some biscuits and honey?” Damian wanted to know.
Simon started the rig moving. “I ‘spect so.”
Nudging his horse into a trot, Colin led the way. With the children safe, all was right with the world.
Almost.
Once they were home Eugenie reprimanded the children for giving her such a scare and clucked over them, promising hot chocolate once they were free of wet clothes and muddy shoes and socks. Colin took their bundles out of the wagon and carried them upstairs. As he set down the larger of the two, a folded piece of paper fell out. Kate’s letter.
He glanced over his shoulder before he unfolded the page and ignored the way his hand trembled as he read her words.
My dears,
You know all about my work for Mister Jamison in New Orleans and how I told you I would be going to meet with him sometimes. There is much to do right now and so I must stay in the city for a while. I am so sorry that I had to leave without telling you good-bye, but just know that I can imagine the hugs we will share when I see you again.
While I am away, please continue your studies. Marie, it is up to you to help Damian with his letters and numbers and keep up your own reading. I’m sure your uncle will help you choose suitable books from his library in the garçonnière.
I know you will both be very, very good. Do what Eugenie asks and take care of each other and Uncle Colin. Remember to make your mama proud. She is always watching over you from heaven.
I miss you, and I hope to see you very, very soon.
Many hugs and kisses.
Love, Aunt Kate
Were the tearstains on the page Kate’s or Marie’s? Or was it rain?
Colin reread the letter and carried it onto the gallery into the brisk air. He had expected recriminations. At the very least he thought Kate would accuse him of sending her to the city, but she’d laid none of the blame at his doorstep.
Her consideration was more than he deserved. He folded the letter and slipped it into the poorly tied bundle. The children were safe. So why was his heart heavier than before?
Alone in New Orleans, Kate buried herself in work, which brought some light into otherwise long and empty days.
Roger Jamison was a wonderful mentor who entrusted her with more work — so much work that she was becoming known around town as more than Gilbert Keene’s daughter; hopefully she would soon make a name as a talented architect in her own right.
When she asked Dan Rosen what rumors, if any, were circulating about her leaving her new husband to take up residence in the city, he said no one was giving it much attention. Nola had always been more than content to live apart from Gilbert; folks assumed that Kate took after her mother.
Let them talk, Kate decided. Speculation was far better than the truth.
After two weeks in the city without any word from Belle Fleuve, she was certain she had made a big mistake by leaving. After three weeks she was heartbroken. She should have stayed to plead her case. How else could she convince Colin the last thing she ever wanted was to hurt and embarrass him?
Just as she made up her mind that it was high time she returned to the plantation to reason with him, she stopped by the reception desk at the St. Charles. A letter from Cora Bolton awaited her. Cora and Eugenie were making the trek to New Orleans with the children. They were all looking forward to visiting her for the day. She read the brief missive over and over. There was no mention of Colin.
Her heart sank. If he was sending the children to visit, there was little hope of reconciliation anytime soon.
Kate shook off her disappointment and tried to see the bright side; soon she would be with Damian and Marie again, and perhaps Cora or Eugenie could shed some light on Colin’s mood.
“I won’t be in tomorrow,” she reminded Roger, as she handed him her latest drawing.
He smiled as he peered over his spectacles. “I may be in my fifties but I’ve still got my wits about me, young lady. That’s the third time you told me today.”
“I’m sorry. I’m just excited. The children are coming to visit.”
He sat down on the arm of a chair and studied her.
“You know, Kate, there’s nothing good to be had by living apart from Colin. I know a man in love when I see one, and he was certainly in love with you when I met him. Why don’t you go home?”
She sighed a small sigh and shrugged. “It’s not that easy.”
“This has nothing to do with Ezekiel Stevens does it?”
“Not at all.” Kate wished things were that simple. “I assured Colin he had no reason to be jealous of the captain. I’m certain he believed me
.”
Roger was a true gentleman, and Kate had come to consider him not only a mentor and employer, but also a friend. Still, she could tell him no more.
“I had a client in here last week, a man named Sparks. He and his wife saw your plans for Belle Fleuve and wondered if you’d be willing to copy them. They’re preparing to build on some land they recently purchased on the river.”
A replica of Belle Fleuve?
“I’m afraid Belle Fleuve is far too precious to me. Besides, the original plans belong to the Delanys. They belonged to the Baudiers before them.”
“He’ll be very disappointed.”
“I’d be more than happy to come up with something equally lovely for them. Something with the same colonial feel.”
“Good. I’ll let them know.” He put the new set of drawings on the table.
“Any word yet on your periodical contest entries?”
Kate shook her head. “Not yet.”
“Don’t be discouraged. I’m sure you’re going to become so sought after that I’m afraid I’ll lose you.” Roger was headed around his desk.
“I’m not going anywhere.”
He gave her a thoughtful appraisal. “You’ll be going home soon, Kate.”
Her heart contracted with a familiar ache of longing. She hoped he was right. Weeks ago nothing could have kept her from Belle Fleuve, not even Colin’s temper. Now she wasn’t certain of anything.
The day of the visit dawned on the chilly side, but it was warm in the sunshine. Still wearing mourning colors out of respect for Amelie, Kate chose one of her finest day outfits, a long jacket of striped gray silk with plain sleeves. She donned a small felt hat with short feathers. Kid gloves the color of her narrow-cut boots and matching silk bag completed the ensemble.
She might not have much left in her account, but she had never scrimped when she had money, so her wardrobe wasn’t lacking. She could always have her things altered to keep up with trends. She set her hat at a jauntier tilt and then adjusted her glasses before she looped the silk drawstrings of her reticule over her wrist. Finally, she was ready to await the children in the grand vestibule of the St. Charles Hotel.
Heart of Glass Page 24
