***
I found an apartment in Paris, using one of my many assumed names so that Alexis wouldn’t be able to find me. It was an awful risk to take since she did sometimes bring the children into the city for shopping, visiting friends, and the like. Marco rarely came with her; out of patriotism to his native Italy, he believed Paris to be a “second-rate city with delusions of grandeur.” If Alexis or her children saw me here, there wouldn’t be any way to explain it away; Alexis wasn’t that naïve. Maybe I could tell her a lie about the father’s identity, or maybe she would finally put the pieces together.
I considered this before renting the place, but decided the city was big enough that I could go unnoticed. Out of some kind of misplaced patriotism I wanted my daughter born here, for her to be French like her mother and aunt, though I hadn’t thought of myself as “French” in centuries. How long I could keep her here without Alexis finding out I didn’t know. Eventually I would have to come clean about why I hadn’t visited her in months.
I also figured that near the end of the pregnancy I would be big enough that I wouldn’t want to leave the safety of the apartment. For that I brought along my servant from Cairo, Jasmine, and her two children. I had found Jasmine begging on the street, her husband dead, leaving her with no way to provide for her children. I took the three of them in and let Jasmine handle the mundane chores and cleaning up after my bouts of morning sickness.
I offered her the choice of coming with me to Paris or taking a lump sum of money to stay in Cairo; she agreed to come along. I spent days showing her and her children around the city and teaching Jasmine basic French so that she could run errands for me. The biggest adjustment for them was the difference in temperature; the children wore several layers of clothes to keep themselves warm even though it was summertime.
Jasmine’s children often watched me from a distance with intense curiosity, like I was an exhibit at the zoo. They were too respectful, though, to get near me or to exchange more than pleasantries. Or maybe they were just scared of me and my ever-expanding stomach.
We had been in Paris for about a month, when the question of what to do with my daughter was answered. A letter came in the mail from Alexis. It took a circuitous route from the estate near Marseilles to Edinburgh, where it was forwarded by one of my employees to Cairo. Then it boomeranged to Paris thanks to a friend of Jasmine.
When I opened the letter, I saw Alexis had written it a month ago, at the same time Marco and I were meeting in Florence. My heart fluttered for a moment, but Alexis hadn’t figured it out, at least not yet. Instead, she wrote:
Dear Stephanie,
I hope this letter finds you well. Marco is off to find a boarding school for Mathieu and Marcus. I feel terrible that soon they will be gone. When next I see them, they will no longer be my adorable little boys; they will be handsome young men. I don’t want them to go, but Marco insists they need a proper education so they can make something of themselves.
The boys would love to see you again before they leave. They love their Aunt Stephanie so very much. Luc misses you almost as much as I do. He drew a picture especially for you. As you can see, he’s becoming quite the little artist. We may have a little da Vinci on our hands!
Gretel stopped by about a week ago and assured me that you are doing well, but I wish you would write more often. I know you have never been comfortable with the quill and parchment, but it does me good to hear from my sister.
Please take care of yourself and stop by when you are able.
Love,
Alexis
I had to stop in the middle of the letter to wipe at my eyes. I wished I could write Alexis back to tell her why I hadn’t come to visit her and why I wouldn’t in the near future. But I couldn’t. My continued absence would hurt her far less than if I told her the truth.
As the letter had promised, there was a folded-up sheet of paper included as well. I unfolded this and saw the drawing Luc had made. It was quite good for a six-year-old, the lines steady and clear, although the figures were a bit exaggerated.
The drawing was of me, in my gray coat with my crossbow in one hand and my hair writhing like a nest of snakes. Behind me were two smaller figures of equal size. Their faces were vague but boyish; I assumed they were Luc’s older brothers. We were in the forest, where I grappled with a bear the same size as me. Luc had captioned it, “My Aunt Stephanie.”
I remembered the last time I had been back to the estate at Christmastime. I took Mathieu and Marcus out in the forest to teach them how to track game. I didn’t plan for them to actually kill anything, just to learn some of the basics. Alexis wasn’t thrilled about the idea of letting her precious children go out into the forest, but Marco convinced her that it would be good for them to learn something of the outdoors.
Like any boy his age, Luc wanted to do what his older brothers were doing. “Why can’t I go?” he whined as I stood at the door to go.
I knelt down so that I could look him in the eye and then touched his hair. “You’re too young to go. In a couple of years—”
“I’m not a baby,” he protested.
“Are too,” Marcus said.
“Boys, be nice or you aren’t going anywhere,” Alexis chided.
“Yes, Mama,” Marcus said.
“I promise I’ll be good and I won’t be scared,” Luc said. His face reddened and I could see he was on the verge of tears.
There wasn’t an easy way to tell him the real reason I didn’t want him to go: he was too much like his mother. He had inherited her blond hair and delicate features, but more than that, he had inherited her sweetness too. I didn’t want to take that away from him by taking him into the forest, where he would be confronted with the horrors of real life. I didn’t want him to end up like me.
“I know you won’t,” I said. “But your mama and I think it’s best to wait a little while.”
Alexis put an arm around Luc’s shoulders. “That’s right, dear. But you and I can play inside the house. Would you like that?”
Luc clearly didn’t, but he was also too nice to disappoint his mother. “Yes,” he said.
“That’s my good boy,” Alexis said.
I tousled Luc’s hair and smiled at him. “We’ll bring you back something. I promise.”
I stared at the drawing, my fingers too numb to even wipe at my eyes. The drawing was probably Luc’s way of apologizing for the incident. Knowing him, he probably thought that was the reason I hadn’t been around in so long, that he’d driven me away.
Though I knew he didn’t mean to, the drawing hurt me far worse than any demon or bogeyman ever had. This was how he saw me: a wild woman who went out into the forest and wrestled with bears. That’s when I made up my mind.
I didn’t want my daughter to think of me like that. More importantly, I didn’t want her to be like me. At the same time, over three centuries had taught me I wasn’t going to change; I’d never be the kind of mother like Alexis who stayed home, sewing and baking cookies. I’d never be the proper lady Mama had wanted me to be and that my daughter would need me to be. I didn’t want her growing up with the other children laughing at her and making her an outcast because of her strange mother who dressed and acted more like a man than a woman.
There was only one thing I could do to avoid this: I had to give her up.
***
While Marco thought Paris to be second-rate, it was also the kind of city where you could get just about everything if you knew where to look. That included black market adoptions. Through some contacts of mine, I found out about a lawyer named Souray who would arrange discreet adoptions for wealthy families.
Souray’s office wasn’t much to look at, about half the size of my apartment’s living room. He had a few legal books on a shelf behind him that I doubted he’d touched since before the Revolution. The wooden chair I sat on creaked dangerously from my weight.
The lawyer’s suit was probably older than his legal books; I’d seen a lot of garments l
ike it when I used to make powdered wigs for the gentry. It hung off him like clothes on a scarecrow, his body just about as lean. Either his practice wasn’t exactly booming or else he was extremely frugal with his money. He didn’t seem like the kind of man I should entrust with my daughter’s life.
But I didn’t have many other options, except to leave her on the steps of an orphanage or a church. Then who knew what would become of her? If Souray could do what he was known for, then she would have a good life, one better than I could provide—a normal life.
“Hello, mademoiselle,” he said, his voice sounding like someone sharpening a knife. “Before we begin, do you require any refreshment?”
Looking around, I didn’t see where Souray had anything to offer in that regard; he didn’t even have a secretary to fetch anything. “I’m fine,” I said.
He motioned to my stomach. “I understand you’re looking to arrange an adoption for your child?”
“That’s right.”
“If I may pry—”
“You may not,” I snapped, knowing he wanted to know how I came to this sorry state. I reached into my handbag for a sack of gold coins. “This should be all you need to know.”
“I see,” he said, his eyes going wide as he stared at the money. “And what specifically would you like me to do, mademoiselle—”
“My name isn’t important. What is important is that you find a home for my daughter when the time comes. A good home with a reputable family. Where she can be happy.” I reached into the handbag again, this time for a handkerchief to wipe at my eyes. “You have to promise that under no circumstances will you or the adoptive family tell her anything. She’s not to know she’s adopted. Is that clear?”
“Of course, mademoiselle. Whatever you wish.”
“And you’re not to tell me anything about her. I don’t even want to know what name they give her. Once I hand her over we’re through, you got that?”
“Yes,” he said. He looked down at the money again. “I will take care of everything.”
“Good,” I said. I motioned to the bag. “There’s another one of those for you after you carry through with your end of the deal.”
“I understand.” When the lawyer smiled it was like looking into the face of the Grim Reaper. “I have an excellent home in mind for her. A wealthy family, very good name. They recently lost a little girl—”
“I don’t want to know any more.”
“Of course. I was merely assuring you that your daughter will be in excellent hands.”
I nodded and then reached into my jacket for the crossbow. With a shake it unfolded. As Souray’s eyes widened again—this time from fear—I loaded a bolt. “You even think of double-crossing me and I’m going to put this bolt through your neck. Understood?”
“Very well, mademoiselle.”
“Good.” It was difficult getting to my feet with the crossbow in one hand, but I didn’t dare ask for his help or put the weapon down until I’d made my point. Once outside of the lawyer’s office I put the crossbow back in its sling and then set out for the apartment.
I felt the baby kick and put a hand on my belly. “I’m sorry,” I whispered to her.
***
My water broke at the same time I heard someone knocking on the door. I had thrown off my blankets to try and get out of the bed when Jasmine came running in, accompanied by an old woman. “Madame Joliet, there’s a woman here—” Jasmine stopped as she no doubt saw the mess on the bed. Having two children of her own, she knew what it meant.
The old woman gently brushed Jasmine aside and then put a hand on my shoulder to push me back down. “It’s all right, dear,” Sabrina said. “You still have a while until it comes.”
“Madame?”
“It’s all right, Jasmine. She’s a friend of mine. A midwife. God knows I need one of those right about now,” I said and tried unsuccessfully to smile.
“Be a dear and get some fresh sheets,” Sabrina said. “And a blanket for the baby when it comes out.”
I waited until Jasmine had gone off to get the sheets and blanket before I asked, “Did Gretel send you?”
“We didn’t want to entrust your life to some mortal butcher,” Sabrina said with an exaggerated shiver. She brushed hair away from my face and then smiled at me. “Lie back down and we’ll take care of everything. Before long you’ll have a wonderful little baby, just like your sister.”
I nodded to her, not wanting to mention that I didn’t intend to keep my baby for long. Sabrina had delivered all three of Alexis’s sons, each one a longer and more painful labor than the previous one. I thought of the night Luc was born, which had led me to this point. “Did you say anything to Alexis?”
“Of course not, dear. She doesn’t know a thing.”
“Good. Whatever you do, don’t tell her about the baby.”
“You can’t hide it from her forever.”
“I’ll tell her when I’m ready.”
Sabrina shook her head sadly, but she said, “If that’s what you want.”
“Thank you.”
Giving birth was the most painful experience I’d ever endured. Each wave of pain was more excruciating than the last, to the point where I was sure I’d split in two long before the baby ever came. Dying while giving birth to my illegitimate daughter was probably the fate I deserved for betraying Alexis.
As with an Inner Child spell, Sabrina gave me a wooden spoon to bite down on. By the thirty-sixth hour, I’d bitten almost clean through the handle of the spoon. Sabrina sat at the foot of the bed, looking so calm that I wished I could hit her with a Static Charge spell, but I was far too tired for that. Jasmine sat at the side of the bed, mumbling prayers in Arabic for my safety and the baby’s. At times she would go to fetch water, returning to apply a damp cloth to my head and dribble a little water in my mouth.
As time wore on, I wished Alexis were there to hold my hand and tell me that everything would be all right. All I had to do was ask Sabrina to go fetch her and in minutes she could be here. But that would mean having to tell her about the pregnancy and the baby’s father. She wouldn’t want to hold my hand then; she’d want to wring my neck.
I closed my eyes and imagined a different scene. I was in my childhood bedroom, crude wooden dolls on the shelves around me. I was much younger in this scene, just sixteen or seventeen years old. Mama sat at the foot of my bed, watching for the baby. Alexis and Caroline were on either side of me, Alexis assuring me that everything would be all right while Caroline lectured me on the biological processes of my body—her way of trying to comfort me.
I could feel another presence too, although he wasn’t in the room. Henry waited for me downstairs with Clare and the rest of his brothers and sisters. He would be let into the room once I’d given birth to our first child—the first of many. I couldn’t wait to see the look on his face when he saw our daughter and held her in his arms—
I screamed again as another wave of pain ran through me. I opened my eyes and the fantasy vanished. I was still in this undecorated apartment in Paris, with only two relative strangers in the room. Henry was long dead, as were Mama and Caroline, and Alexis I couldn’t speak to without fear of revealing my terrible secret. I was alone in this, and in a few months I’d be even more alone when I gave my daughter away to a sleazy lawyer so that she might have the normal upbringing I couldn’t provide for her.
“Here it comes!” Sabrina called out. I closed my eyes, feeling Sabrina’s hands between my legs as she helped to guide from between my legs. “One more push, dear.”
I put every ounce of strength I had into that push. This was for my daughter’s life, a life she would live without me. I thought of the little girl in Florence, seeing her face clearly in my mind as I made that last push.
I still had my eyes closed when I heard her first cries. “It’s a girl. A beautiful baby girl,” Sabrina said.
I kept my eyes closed as I turned to where Jasmine was sitting. “In the nightstand there’s a piece
of cloth. I need you to tie it around my eyes.”
“Madame? I don’t understand.”
“I want you to blindfold me. Please.”
“Stephanie, what are you doing?” Sabrina asked.
“I can’t look at her. Not ever,” I said. “Jasmine, please, do as I say.”
I could hear the sadness in her voice as she said, “Yes, Madame Joliet.”
I waited until I felt the cloth around my eyes before I opened them. I could see only a pink haze with vague shadows. “Now you can give her to me.”
My daughter went silent once she was put into my arms. In that moment I desperately wanted to take off the blindfold and look upon her, but I didn’t. I couldn’t. If I did I’d want to keep her with me and then she would never have a real life. So I kept the blindfold on, contenting myself with feeling the warmth of her body against mine. The moment didn’t last as long as I would have liked, before Sabrina took her from me. “You need to get some rest, dear,” she said. “Both of you.”
My daughter didn’t cry when she was taken away from me. Perhaps she already knew.
***
I lived with my daughter for six months without once ever seeing her. Jasmine did most of the mundane tasks like changing dirty diapers and giving her baths. Most of the time I spent with my daughter was during feedings, where I kept the blindfold on while she suckled from my breasts.
I did coo to her if she fussed, which she rarely did, and let myself stroke the down on her head. I made Jasmine swear that she wouldn’t tell me if that down was red or black or if the baby’s skin was pale like mine or olive-toned like Marco’s. I didn’t even give her a name, always referring to her as “the baby” or “the child.” Like with a stray animal, giving the baby a name would make her a part of the family and then I couldn’t give her away.
After three months I visited Souray again. He had consulted the family he mentioned during our first meeting. They were excited to adopt a little girl and from what Souray said, they would be able to give her anything she wanted. I thanked Souray by brandishing the crossbow again, reminding him the consequences of if he tried to betray me.
Awakening (Birth of Magic #1) Page 22
