‘Is anything the matter, madame?’ Josette asked with concern.
‘No, Josette.’ Louise replied quickly. How could she say that she had had a sudden sense of foreboding, as if a dark cloud had passed over her? ‘Perhaps I felt a draught.’
Josette went to check the windows. She was a sensible, conscientious girl with a pleasing round face, silky black hair and long-lashed dark eyes. In spite of having had to flee for her life when her family was slaughtered in Paris, she could not conquer her homesickness for France. She had come to Boston about the same time as Louise had arrived in New York, but had never gained a good grasp of the English language. She had entered Louise’s employ from an American household and was relieved to be able to speak her own tongue with her mistress at all times, as well as to the chef and to another émigré servant in the kitchen.
‘All the windows are shut, madame,’ she affirmed.
It was then that Daniel came into the room. Louise met his smiling eyes in the swing mirror in front of her. He stood waiting while Josette fastened a necklace of pearls around her throat, which with the matching eardrops had been his special homecoming gift to her.
‘Are you ready?’ he asked.
‘Yes.’ Louise rose from the dressing-table stool and took her fan from Josette. ‘This is going to be a wonderful evening, Daniel!’ she declared, deliberately dismissing that chilling sensation she had experienced. ‘Welcome to 1800!’
Madeleine and Theodore had a handsome rectangular ballroom and over a hundred guests had gathered to dance in the iridescent sparkle of the crystal chandeliers. Louise observed that, as usual, Delphine had a wide choice of male partners. She had blossomed into full beauty during the cosseting of her adoptive parents, whose surname she now used. Twice she had been on the brink of becoming betrothed, but in her capricious way had changed her mind at the last minute. This evening, swirling around in the dances, her gown a flurry of apple-green silk, with ribbons in her coppery curls, her expression was smugly triumphant. She exulted in her social success and in drawing men to her like the proverbial bees to honey, and Louise thought it was not surprising that her sister had few, if any, young women friends.
During the evening Delphine snatched a few minutes on her own to draw Louise away from a group of people to whom she and Daniel were talking.
‘I’ve met someone very special this evening, Louise,’ she confided excitedly, forgetting how often she had made similar announcements in the past. ‘His name is John Huntington and he’s just returned to Boston after three years abroad. We’ve had only one dance so far, but we sat out a gavotte in the conservatory. Mama-Madeleine was furious with me over it, but he took all the blame so charmingly that I think she’s forgiven us. After all, his family is the richest in Boston.’
‘I don’t think that aspect would have influenced Madeleine,’ Louise commented dryly. His mother and sister, both pleasant women, were two of her best customers, and socially she knew them well.
‘He’s coming to meet you!’ Delphine clasped her hands together in excitement, seeing that he was crossing the ballroom floor in their direction.
John Huntington at twenty-six was tall and lean with shortcut brown hair and an energetic face, his dark eyes very alert and observant. When the introductions took place he bowed over Louise’s hand.
‘I’m honoured to meet you, ma’am. I’ve heard from Miss Delphine that you know London well and I spent some time there before returning home.’
‘I stayed with my aunt once in Mayfair before the Revolution and enjoyed every moment. There’s so much to see and explore. One cannot take a step without treading on history. But setting that aside, how did you find the present situation there?’
‘There is great fear of a French invasion. Defences along the south coast are being strengthened and regiments appear to be constantly on stand-by. But that doesn’t stop a lively social round in London and Brighton and elsewhere. Now, if Miss Delphine will pardon us, I should like to have the pleasure of the next dance with you, ma’am.’
Delphine beamed her approval, able to see that Louise had liked him on sight.
John was leading Louise back to Daniel after they had danced a bourrée when a servant approached her. ‘There is a French gentleman asking to see you, ma’am. He’s waiting in the Blue Drawing Room. I requested his name, but he withheld it, saying he wanted to give you a pleasant surprise.’
She hurried from the ballroom, eager to see her visitor. Would it be Alexandre making a surprise visit, although he had never been yet and in any case that seemed highly unlikely at this time of year. Was it an old friend from France looking her up?
The double doors of the drawing room were closed and she opened them to the candlelit room, a fire blazing cheerfully in the grate. A tall, slim man stood gazing into the flames and he turned slowly to look towards her. Instantly she stood frozen on the threshold in shock. It was Fernand!
‘Good evening, Mrs Lombard,’ he said with sardonic emphasis. ‘I must say I hadn’t expected to find you had committed bigamy in my absence.’
The only movement about her was the dancing of her pearl eardrops and the shiver of her silver-striped gown in the candle glow. All colour had drained from her face. ‘I thought you had died at the guillotine,’ she uttered in a strangled whisper.
‘That’s what would have happened if fate hadn’t intervened. Hell’s fire! Don’t stand there as if you’d seen a ghost! I’m very much alive. A servant at your home directed me here. Come in and shut those doors. I don’t want anyone intruding and we need to talk for a while.’
Her immediate thought was that Daniel must not know of this awful turn of events before she had a chance to prepare him. After swiftly closing the doors she turned the key in the lock. Moving stiffly, she crossed the room to face her husband from the past. Tall, fair-haired and proud-looking, he was still a handsome man in spite of a bloating of his features by years of self-indulgence. His forehead was broad, his aristocratic nose long and thin, and his eyes a curiously light amber. Always alert to fashion, his coat collar and neck stock were so exaggeratedly high that his head seemed supported by them.
‘What happened?’ she asked, reaching for a chair and sitting down, for her legs seemed to have lost their strength. ‘How did you escape the blade?’
‘I made the mistake of staying on in Paris longer than was wise. The revolutionaries tried me in court and condemned me on the same trumped-up charge that sent so many other people to their death during the Reign of Terror. I was thrown into the Temple prison, but when I was with others in the tumbril on the way to the guillotine there was an accident. A runaway horse sent its cart crashing into us. I was thrown out by the impact and, apart from my shoulder, I was unharmed. So I scrambled to my feet and ran as I had never run in my life before, knowing a place where I could hide out for a while.’
‘Weren’t you pursued?’
‘There was such confusion, with the tumbril horses rearing, the injured screaming and the cart on its side trapping people underneath, that nobody saw me go. Then, after several weeks and on a moonless night, a friend smuggled me down to one of the barges on the Seine and I hid under cover. It sailed down the river at dawn, taking me away from Paris into safety. Not that I didn’t have several other narrow scrapes,’ he added in case she should think it had been all too easy, ‘before eventually I reached England.’
‘I went home to Delphine,’ she said in the same tight voice as before. ‘Didn’t you receive the letter I sent to Paris?’
He shrugged. ‘No, but I guessed you’d gone home when you weren’t with the Queen. Later in England I began to think that you must be still alive when neither your name nor Delphine’s ever appeared on any list of the condemned.’
‘How did you find me here?’
‘It took a damnable long time,’ he stated accusingly, as if she were to blame. ‘I was still in London when I happened to meet an émigré from Bordeaux, who told me he’d heard you’d both gone to America.’<
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‘We went first to New York. Not Boston. How did you discover my present address?’
‘That took a hell of a time too. I’d remembered you had an aunt in England and I’d been trying to trace her, because I was in urgent need of cash. The allowance granted by the British Government to émigré aristocrats didn’t meet my needs and I was sure that she would be generous to her nephew by marriage. When eventually I discovered her address she had been widowed and had moved through her own failing health from Mayfair to her country seat in Sussex. But when I arrived there the old bitch refused to see me!’
‘Don’t speak of her in that way!’ Louise flared. ‘She knew I had married again and would have wanted to protect me. She has never mentioned your visit in her letters.’
‘I called every day until eventually I caught her unawares in the rose garden, where she was picking flowers. She had no choice but to hear what I had to say. I declared that I’d heard you were in America and the alarm in her face told me I was on the right track. That’s when I explained to her that my sole aim was to find you again, and I was desperately in need of funds to continue my search.’
‘What did she say?’
‘Only that if I didn’t leave immediately she would have me thrown off her property, and that you were well rid of me. But afterwards I waylaid one of her maidservants and I bribed her to find your address, which was how I learned of your new surname.’
‘When were you at her house?’
‘That was over a year ago. I’m living in France again these days. You must have heard of the amnesty that was granted a while ago, allowing certain émigrés to claim back property and land confiscated during the Revolution.’
‘Yes, I read all about it at the time. But you have no property left. You’d gambled it all away before you married me, and your Paris apartment belonged to one of your mistresses.’
‘That’s true,’ he agreed with a dangerous amiability that only increased her anxiety. He had rested an arm on the marble mantelshelf with one glossy-booted foot on the fender and he looked down at her where she sat. The firelight flickered across the planes of his face. ‘But you are still the rightful owner of your château and its lands and forests.’
‘You mean my home has not been destroyed?’ she exclaimed thankfully. ‘I feared it might have been burnt to the ground. That’s what happened to Alexandre de Clement’s château in the same district.’
‘I went to see it for myself. It appeared to be in good order apart from a few broken windowpanes, but I was told that some looting took place before it was officially sealed. It was a great relief to me when I found it intact, because it’s become fashionable to spend time in the country these days and a gentleman must have his roots. The château is ideal for that purpose.’
‘So that’s why you’re here!’ Louise shook her head in relief that his visit was purely mercenary. ‘You want me to sign the property and land over to you!’
‘All those acres, including the vineyard, are more valuable now than ever before and there’s a great demand for timber.’ Then he added bluntly, ‘I need the château and the money, Louise.’
‘I refused you often enough in the past,’ she answered straightforwardly, rising to her feet, ‘but circumstances have changed. I have a new life here and the château can never be my home again. I’m sure that eventually new gambling debts will force you to sell it, as well as everything else, and then, at least, I can only hope that the buyer will come to love my old home as much as I did when I grew up there.’
‘So?’ He raised his eyebrows questioningly.
‘I’ll do what you wish if you leave this house as secretly as you came and meet me at my lawyer’s office tomorrow morning. My only condition is that you go back to France and never trouble me again.’
He gave a quiet laugh. ‘You’re in no position to make conditions, my dear wife. A word from me to the Boston police and you’ll be in prison for your bigamous marriage. I have terms of my own to dictate. Claiming back sequestered property in France has to be done by the rightful owner or the legal heir in person, not by anyone who has bought it or obtained it by deed of gift.’
In spite of the warmth of the room, she felt herself chill at his words. ‘Are you saying that you want me to go back to France with you?’
He nodded. ‘Yes, as my wife.’
‘No! Everything was over between us long ago!’ She backed away from him. ‘Get someone to impersonate me! It shouldn’t be difficult!’
He shook his head. ‘Do you think I’d be stupid enough to take such a risk? Others have tried it and ended up behind bars. You’re coming with me and there’s no way you can get out of it.’
‘If you force me back to France I’ll reclaim my property for myself! You shall never have it!’
‘But you can’t stop me living there with an adequate personal allowance. As for refusing to accompany me back to France, the law in this new country is no different from the old in upholding a husband’s rights over his wife. Even if I kept quiet about your fraudulent marriage, I’d still have the law on my side in demanding that you return to me. The result would be your deportation in my charge as your lawful husband.’
At that moment the handle of the door was tried. They both looked sharply at each other. Then Daniel’s voice was heard.
‘Louise! Are you there? Have these doors jammed?’ There was a rattling as he gave them a shake. ‘It’s nearly midnight. The new century is almost here.’
In anguish she turned to Fernand. ‘Don’t let him see you yet!’ she implored. ‘Give me a little time alone with him first.’
He cast a contemptuous glance at her and strode to the double doors himself, unlocked them and flung them wide. ‘Come in, Lombard. I’m the Marquis de Vailly, and I’ve come to take my wife home with me to France.’
For a few seconds Daniel’s face registered total disbelief. Then he looked beyond Fernand to where Louise stood, her tortured expression conveying the terrible truth of the announcement. In an explosion of fury he gave the Frenchman a violent thrust in the chest. As Fernand staggered back into the room, Daniel slammed the doors shut again before crossing the floor to Louise. With his eyes holding hers, he touched her cheek reassuringly before facing Fernand again.
‘Now, sir,’ he demanded dangerously, ‘what is this fakery all about? If you think I’ll surrender Louise to you or anyone else, you’re entirely mistaken!’
Fernand, enraged by the thrust that had almost made him lose his balance, tidied his coat and smoothed his waistcoat buttons into a straight line again. ‘You’re the one in error, Lombard! But I’ll let my wife explain the situation to you.’
Haltingly, Louise managed to tell Daniel all that had happened. When she had finished he turned back to Fernand. ‘What is your price for returning to France and leaving us in peace?’
Fernand regarded him disdainfully. ‘How crudely you Americans express yourselves! I’ve heard often enough how uncivilized it is in this country. In any case, you’re wasting your breath. Not only do I want the château as a country seat, but also Louise will inherit a fortune when her aunt in England dies. My wife is worth more to me financially than anything you could hand out.’
‘Try me!’ Daniel had taken a step towards him, fists balled at his sides.
Fernand ignored him, addressing Louise. ‘You have seventy-two hours in which to pack before we sail.’ He took a folded piece of paper from his pocket and held it out. When she made no attempt to take it he placed it open on a side table. ‘The time of sailing and all details are listed there. I’ll collect you two hours beforehand on my way to the harbour. If you should take it into your head to go into hiding or attempt any other such foolery, I shall go straight to the authorities.’
‘Get out!’ Daniel roared in fury.
Fernand regarded him with narrowed eyes. ‘I find your attitude extremely offensive. If we were in France, I’d run a blade through you, Lombard! And I shall do it if ever you dare to follow us to our ch�
�teau!’
‘I advise you not to be overconfident about taking Louise away!’ Daniel gave back fiercely. ‘I’ll be contacting my lawyer immediately. There is such a thing as extenuating circumstances to counter your proposed charge of bigamy. The entire world thought you were dead and that can be endorsed.’
Fernand opened the double doors to leave, letting in the merry sound of music and voices from the ballroom, and he paused to regard Daniel mockingly. ‘But, whatever happens, Louise will still be my legal wife. There isn’t a court of justice here or anywhere else that would rule against my demand for the restoration of my conjugal rights.’
He went from the room. Daniel, unable to contain his wrath any longer, would have rushed at him for his final taunt if Louise had not hung on to his arm. ‘Let him go!’ she implored desperately. ‘I can’t bear any more.’
Contritely, Daniel took her into his arms. ‘We’ll find a way out of this mess! There must be a loophole somewhere. We have the new century ahead of us – our century! Nobody shall take it away from us.’
The Sèvres clock on the mantelshelf announced the imminence of midnight in its preliminary tinkling chime. At its first stroke Daniel kissed her lovingly, but Louise feared, no matter what he said, that their time together was drawing to an end.
Daniel’s lawyer, Harry Tyler, was an old friend and, as he had also been celebrating the New Year, he was not yet in bed when Daniel arrived asking to see him immediately. He came downstairs in his dressing gown to find Daniel pacing up and down in the library. One look at Daniel’s face told him that something extremely serious had happened.
‘Sit down, my friend. I’ve some excellent cognac. We’ll each have a glass.’ When Harry had poured it he put one glass into Daniel’s shaking hand and sat down himself. ‘Now tell me what’s brought you to this state.’
He listened attentively to Daniel’s account of Fernand’s reappearance. When it ended he spoke gravely as he summed up the situation.
‘I have to say that Fernand de Vailly is entirely within his rights in demanding his wife’s return, and she is still a French citizen. If there had been an annulment or a judicial separation, it would have been a different matter.’
New World, New Love Page 21