The Unforgiven (Echoes from the Past Book 3)

by Irina Shapiro

  Madeline had her last fitting on her sixteenth birthday. She hadn’t told anyone it was her birthday, fearing they would feel obligated to celebrate and get her presents, but she intended to enjoy her outing to New Orleans, particularly since George had promised to take them to lunch after they finished their business at the dressmaker’s. Madeline was taken to the back room by herself, since Sybil’s gown was finished and ready to take home. Her grandmother elected to have a cup of tea in the parlor, especially since the proprietress, Mrs. Bonnard, asked if she might join her. The two women had known each other for years, and as much as Sybil pretended not to care, she enjoyed a good gossip now and then.

  The fitting room was nearly empty, with only one customer being fitted for a silk ball gown in a startling shade of green. The bright color made the woman look sallow, but she seemed quite pleased with the dress, turning this way and that and admiring herself in the long mirror. The lady appeared to be hard of hearing and yelled at the poor seamstress as she crouched on the floor pinning the hem.

  Madeline’s gown was the color of liquid gold. It wasn’t a shade she would have picked for herself, but Mrs. Bonnard had suggested it, and she had been right. The color brought out Madeline’s dark hair and hazel eyes, and made her look youthful without appearing too prim in a gown of white or cream. Her father used to say that her eyes were the color of the bayou on a sunny day. How proud he would have been to see her looking so lovely, and so mature. She was no longer the girl he’d loved, but a woman, ready to shape her own destiny.

  “How does that feel, miss?” the seamstress asked as she stood back, surveying Madeline with a critical eye. “I had to let it out a bit at the waist, and I took up the hem another inch. It was still too long.”

  “It feels fine,” Madeline replied. Cissy hadn’t laced her corset as tightly as she usually did, which accounted for the loosening of the waist, but Madeline didn’t mind. She hated the feeling of not being able to take a deep breath, especially when dancing. Her waist was small enough that she could get away with this tiny indulgence.

  “Would you have a forwarding address for Miss Cole?” Madeline asked as the seamstress began to unbutton the gown, her fingers deft on the cloth-covered buttons.

  “Miss Charlotte,” Madeline called to her when she failed to respond. “It is Charlotte, isn’t it? Miss Cole used to be my governess, and I would like to write to her and find out how she’s faring in her new position. You wouldn’t be betraying her confidence if you told me where she’s gone.”

  “She’s gone to the cemetery, Miss Besson,” Charlotte replied quietly, so the other seamstress wouldn’t overhear.

  “What do you mean?” Madeline whispered. “I saw her only recently, and she seemed well enough.”

  The seamstress came closer to Madeline and began to adjust her sleeve, so her face was close to Madeline’s ear. “If you tell anyone, I’ll deny you ever heard it from me, but Paula Cole died of severe hemorrhage.”

  “Did she cut herself?” Madeline gasped.

  Charlotte looked exasperated, but then must have remembered Madeline’s tender age and rearranged her face. “She was in the family way, Miss Besson, not that I should be telling you that,” she whispered. “But as you knew her, maybe you’ll mourn for her. She had no family, and Mrs. Bonnard didn’t see fit to pay for a fancy funeral. She just used whatever was owed to Miss Cole to pay for a pine box and a burial service. Not even a stone to mark her life.”

  Madeline shook her head. “I don’t understand. What brought on the hemorrhage?”

  Miss Charlotte looked distinctly sorry that she had ever opened her mouth, but it was too late to back out now. She had to explain. She helped Madeline out of the gown and assisted her in dressing in her own clothes while she waited for the other seamstress to leave the room.

  “You see, whoever the father was, he had no wish to marry her, and Mrs. Bonnard would have cast her out without a reference, and possibly without paying her wages once it became known she was with child. Paula tried to get rid of the child before her condition became apparent.”

  Madeline thought she was going to be sick. She sucked in a deep breath to calm her heaving stomach, but it didn’t help much. She’d been too young and naïve to comprehend what Miss Cole had been referring to, but now she understood very clearly.

  “Well, we’re all done now. Good day to you, Miss Besson,” Charlotte said, raising her voice slightly as a new customer was brought back for a fitting. She wanted Madeline to leave, which was understandable. Telling her about Miss Cole was a breach of etiquette, which would have been treated with the utmost severity if Mrs. Bonnard ever got wind of it. Charlotte had taken a great risk in telling Madeline.

  “Thank you, Miss Charlotte,” Madeline said. “You’ve been very helpful. I look forward to wearing my new gown.” She laid a hand on Charlotte’s arm, her eyes telling the young woman that she would never betray what she’d done. “I’m grateful.”

  Charlotte gave a slight nod and hurried away, taking the gown with her to be folded and stored in a box with tissue paper so Madeline could take it home.

  Madeline stood stock-still for a moment. She needed to get her feelings under control before going to find Sybil in the parlor, and her reflection in the mirror stared back at her with wide, startled eyes as if she’d just seen a ghost. Perhaps she had. Paula Cole had already been a ghost the last time Madeline saw her. No wonder she’d sounded so bitter. She’d been carrying the child of a man who could no longer make a respectable woman of her. Charles Besson would have married Paula Cole in a heartbeat had he known. But Madeline’s father was gone, as was his mistress and their baby—Madeline’s brother or sister.

  She forced a smile onto her face as she stepped out of the fitting room. Sybil would be waiting for her, and George was supposed to join them directly after the fitting. After lunch, they planned to visit several more shops to purchase new gloves and silk stockings, and order a bonnet to be ready in time for Christmas. Madeline had looked forward to this outing for weeks, but now she only wanted to return to the plantation and hide in her room where she could grieve for Paula Cole and her baby in private. The food tasted like ashes in her mouth, and she could barely recall which bonnet she’d agreed to in the end. Madeline was relieved when it was finally time to return home, and sat quietly all the way back to the plantation, lost in her own thoughts despite George’s valiant efforts to draw her out.

  “Let her be, George,” Sybil said irritably in response to George’s chatter. “Madeline’s tired, and she’s had too much champagne.”

  George cast a worried look toward Madeline, but didn’t argue. He remained silent for the rest of the ride, his gaze averted from her.

  Madeline went directly to her room, glad to finally be on her own. She undressed with Cissy’s help, got into her dressing gown and lay on the bed, book in hand, but she couldn’t focus on reading, not after what she’d learned. She closed her eyes instead and allowed the tears to fall, crying not only for Miss Cole and her child, but for herself as well.

  She barely noticed when the door opened and Mammy slipped into the room. She held a small paper-wrapped package and approached Madeline hesitantly.

  “Miss Madeline, I wanted to give you a small token to mark the day.”

  Madeline nodded, unwrapped the package and took out a cotton handkerchief, beautifully embroidered with vines and pink flowers.

  “I asked Cissy for some colored thread,” Mammy said. “I hope you likes it.”

  “Thank you, Mammy. It’s very pretty,” Madeline replied. A year ago she would have been delighted with the gift, but no amount of kindness could rekindle the affection Madeline had once felt for her nurse. “It was kind of you to remember my birthday.”

  “Like I could ever forget,” Mammy replied. “I was there the day you was born. I helped bring you into this world, and I was the first person to hold you.”

  Madeline felt a pang of sadness at Mammy’s words. They had loved each other once.
Why had she lied? Why had she withheld so much?

  “Well, I won’t keep you. You enjoy your evening, Maddy.”

  Mammy rushed off, leaving Madeline feeling even more forlorn. How different life had been only a year ago. Her father had been gone for four months, but she felt as if she’d aged a decade since his death.

  Chapter 33

  May 2014

  New Orleans, Louisiana

  Quinn fled the main salon and stepped out on deck, eager for a breath of fresh air. The dusky sky twinkled with countless stars and the moon hung unusually low, its glowing belly grazing the dark outline of the treetops in the distance. The banks of the Mississippi slid by as the Natchez cruised past the well-developed shores of the river. There were other boats nearby, but the massive steamboat dwarfed them and made them look like children’s toys bobbing along on the waves it created.

  Jazz music floated from the main salon and several other guests stepped out on deck for a breath of air or a stealthy cigarette. Snatches of conversation and laughter erupted every time the door opened, and everyone who came out of the salon made a passing comment to Quinn, since the guest of honor couldn’t be ignored. Quinn didn’t know any of them, but she smiled in greeting when her grandmother came out on deck with her nurse. Seth had made sure his mother could attend the party, and hired a nurse to look after her for the evening.

  “Good evening, dear.” Rae returned Quinn’s smile. “It’s nice to see you again.”

  “I’m so glad you’re here,” Quinn said, taking the older woman’s hand. She didn’t know anyone else at the party besides Seth, Brett, and Dolores. And Brett had introduced her to his mum.

  “Oh, me too. I can’t remember the last time I’ve been to a party. And Seth knows how to throw a party,” Rae added. “I am looking forward to dinner. They serve slop not fit for pigs at that nursing home. Were you the one who made the arrangements?”

  “No, Seth took care of everything.”

  Rae looked confused. “But aren’t you his secretary? He always speaks so highly of you. I told him he shouldn’t hire such pretty young girls, especially not while his wife is pregnant. It makes her feel insecure. She’s having a boy,” she confided. “Kathy wants to name him Brett, but Seth is trying to talk her into naming the baby Seth Junior. I prefer Brett myself. Everyone should have their own name. Don’t you think?”

  “Yes,” Quinn muttered. She wasn’t surprised her grandmother didn’t remember her, given her diagnosis, but it made Quinn feel sad. She might never see the old woman again, and it would have been nice to share this moment with her.

  “Well, you enjoy the party.” Rae turned to her nurse. “Seth is so good to his staff,” she said as they walked away. “Probably a lot more generous than he should be. That young woman should be working, not behaving as if she were a guest.”

  Quinn looked around, desperate for a more private spot where she wouldn’t be quite so noticeable or feel so vulnerable. She needed a moment to compose herself before going back inside. She didn’t want to ruin the evening for Seth. He’d pulled out all the stops with the party. The food was superb, the music quickened the pulse like a shot of caffeine, and the dozens of guests he had invited were all friends, business associates, and relations of the proud father.

  Quinn had had every intention of blending into the background, but Seth had made that impossible. Once the Natchez had pulled away from the dock and everyone got comfortable and made at least one trip to the open bar, Seth had called for silence and beckoned for Quinn to join him on the small stage set up for the band. He smiled at her warmly and took her hand, as if she were a little girl.

  “Good evening, everyone,” Seth had said, beaming like a lighthouse at the assembled guests. “I’m not going to bore you all with long speeches or flowery toasts. I just want to raise a glass to by beautiful girl, Quinn. I thought I had a pretty good life until this amazing woman walked into it and showed me exactly what I was missing. I thank God that she found me, and I couldn’t be prouder of the daughter I didn’t even know I had. And not only is she beautiful, brilliant, and successful, she’s going to make me a grandfather. I love you, kiddo.”

  Seth leaned in and planted a kiss on Quinn’s flaming cheek. She hadn’t told Seth about the pregnancy, but Brett must have spilled the beans after she unwittingly told him her news. It was silly to feel so upset about her personal business being made public when anyone who looked at her closely could probably see the gentle swell of her belly beneath the flowing skirt of her dress, but Quinn felt as if she were standing under a huge spotlight, stark naked in front of all the guests.

  Seth downed his champagne and motioned for the waiter to refill his glass. “And a mineral water for the mommy-to-be,” he’d added, noting that Quinn’s glass was empty.

  “I just need some air,” Quinn said as she slipped her hand out of Seth’s grasp. Seth looked like he might follow, but became distracted by some friends who came approached congratulate him.

  “Quinn, are you all right?” a voice broke into Quinn’s reverie.

  Kathy, Seth’s ex-wife, leaned on the rail next to her, her eyes full of concern. “You looked very flushed in there.”

  “Just a little embarrassed, that’s all,” Quinn replied. “I’m not used to parties thrown in my honor.”

  “Who is?” Kathy laughed. Her long blond hair moved in the breeze and she wrapped a shawl closer about her shoulders, but her dark eyes never left Quinn’s face. “You were flushed before Seth made the toast. Do you mind?” she asked as she reached for Quinn’s wrist. She stood perfectly still, her head cocked to the side as she took Quinn’s pulse. “Your pulse is very rapid. Has anything been bothering you?”

  “I’ve had a headache for the past few days, and my ankles are a bit swollen, but I think that’s just from the humidity. I’m also rather tired,” Quinn admitted.

  She’d been on her feet for the past several days with Jason, traipsing all over the plantation and its outbuildings, including the sugar mill, which was within walking distance, but still a trek from the main house, and covering nearly every inch of the French Quarter. They had also spent a day sailing down the bayou in a hired canoe. The boat trip hadn’t been strenuous, but Quinn had felt a growing sense of unease as they drifted deeper into the swamp. When she’d begun to feel oddly claustrophobic, she asked Jason if they could turn around and return to New Orleans.

  “How far along are you?” Kathy asked.

  “Nearly twenty weeks.”

  Kathy nodded. “Are you sleeping?”

  “Not well. I’ve had difficulty adjusting to the time change for some reason.”

  “Have you felt movement yet?”

  “No,” Quinn confessed. She hadn’t meant to crumple in front of Kathy, but sudden tears slid down her cheeks. “I think there might be something wrong,” she wailed. “I can’t feel the baby.”

  Kathy wrapped Quinn in a warm hug and patted her back as though she were a colicky baby. “Have you had any spotting or full-on bleeding?”

  Quinn shook her head.

  “Quinn, I have a friend who’s an obstetrician. Do you mind if I give her a call? There’s no cause for panic, but I’d like her to have a look at you, just as a precaution.”

  “All right,” Quinn replied, still sniffling. “I want Gabe,” she said, sounding like a child desperate for the comforting presence of a parent.

  “Have you spoken to him?”

  “I’ve had a text, but I can’t seem to reach him in person.”

  “Nothing to worry about, I’m sure. Just the time difference and all that. Here, let me call Annette.” Kathy made a brief call and turned to Quinn with a reassuring smile. “Annette is on call tonight at the Tulane Medical Center. She’ll meet us there after the party.”

  “Maybe we should see her tomorrow,” Quinn suggested.

  “I’d rather not wait. Now, let’s go back inside. When did you last eat?”

  “I had a few canapes when we first boarded.”

 
“Let’s get you something to eat, and another mineral water. You must stay hydrated, but don’t drink anything alcoholic. And try to enjoy the party, Quinn,” Kathy said with a smile. “I promise you, if there was any urgency, I’d have Seth turning this boat around and an ambulance standing by. Everything will be all right. Okay?”

  “Okay,” Quinn said, feeling marginally better. She was hungry, and needed to sit down.

  Kathy took Quinn’s arm and led her back inside and over to a table where Seth was sitting with Brett. The dinner was buffet-style, since Seth didn’t want his guests to be limited to just one delicacy, and Seth and Brett already had full plates.

  “Seth, get Quinn something to eat. Nothing too spicy,” Kathy said, her tone brooking no argument. “And Brett, ask one of the waiters for a bottle of mineral water and a glass of ice.”

  “Is everything all right?” Seth demanded, his protective paternal instincts kicking in.

  “Everything is just fine. Quinn’s feeling a little lightheaded. It’s not uncommon in pregnant women.” Kathy took a seat next to Quinn and patted her hand. “You’ll feel much better once you’ve eaten. In fact, you’ll feel well enough to dance with Seth. I know he’s been looking forward to having a dance with you since he won’t get to have a father/daughter dance at your wedding.”

  “I wish I could invite him, but…”

  “It’s complicated. I know. My mom remarried when I was two. Both my dads were at my wedding and both wanted to walk me down the aisle and have the father/daughter dance with me,” Kathy said, smiling at the memory.

  “So, what did you do?”

  “I had both of them walk me down, and then my stepdad cut in halfway through the dance. It made them happy and kept the peace.”