After gulping a few sips that nearly burned her tongue, she set her cup down and scowled at her mother. “Well, I hope they won’t make matters worse, because I wanted to spend time with Philippe to get to know him better. I don’t need them alienating him any further.” Her voice sounded rude and abrupt. “I apologize for being so harsh this morning. It’s that I have a splitting headache.”
“I’m sorry you’re not feeling well.” A motherly look of concern filled her eyes. “You should spend as much time as you can with Philippe. He is your father who has been robbed of the pleasure of knowing you for eighteen years.”
Why did everything that came out of her mother’s mouth irritate her so much? Before she could even think if her words might hurt her, she made a snide remark. “Did you feel robbed of my presence all these years, too?” She asked harshly with cynicism. Suzette did not flinch at her comment but appeared to accept it with understanding.
“When I left your father, Angelique, it was during a time when the courts would have never given me custody of you. I knew that no matter what the outcome, the ruling would not be in my favor because I had committed adultery. Your father, I believe, would have been intent on keeping me from you out of anger anyway.” She lowered her head thinking for a moment and then continued. “Of course, we will never know what would have happened because Jacquelyn robbed us of the future.”
Jolene considered her mother’s rationalization. Eighteen years ago, divorce laws even in Austria were much stricter. What may have happened could only be speculation now. She agreed.
“No, it seems as if Jacquelyn stole that right from both you and father.” As she sat there considering the mother she had never known, she pursued questions that still needed answers. “Did you not care to stay and look for me? Why did you leave Paris?”
Her mother exhaled a deep sigh and down turned her gaze sorrowfully. “I don’t expect you to understand the decisions that I made eighteen years ago, except to say that Robert promised me he would do everything in his power to find you.” Suzette lifted her head and began to reason. “What could I have done? I had no money or means to help.”
Jolene thought about her question. “I don’t know,” she admitted, feeling confused.
“When we returned to England, Robert kept his promise. He hired private detectives who searched years for you, Angelique.” Her mother’s voice trembled. “Believe me when I tell you there hasn’t been a day that has gone by when I did not think about you or your welfare.”
Speechless and touched by the sincerity in Suzette’s voice, she desperately wanted to believe her words. As she sat there looking at her mother, the stone heart in her chest cracked. Perhaps the basic need for nurturing had finally broken her resolve to remain aloof.
The pleading look in her mother’s eyes convinced her that she had been terribly unfair and critical. Now that she knew everything about her past—her childhood struggles of being abandoned and alone—she realized the similarities they shared. Jolene had turned eighteen, the same age that her mother had been when thrown into a situation of destitution and despair. Had it been her, would she have made the same decisions? It must have been terribly frightening for her mother, and yet Jolene had harshly judged her at every turn. Whatever the mistress of the brothel had used to intimidate her to stay, she did not know. However, it happened and by God’s grace, the man who fell in love with her rescued her from a life of prostitution.
Jolene sighed and lowered her head fighting tears. Her hand wrapped around the coffee cup feeling its warmth in her palm. At that moment, she felt a twinge of warmth rise in her heart toward her mother. She glanced up and saw that Suzette had pulled her gaze away from her as if she had given up all hope of reaching her daughter. Finally, the urge she had kept penned up for months released through her lips.
“I want to love you, Mother, honestly I do. I don’t know how.” Her breath caught in her throat, and her chest felt crushed under the weight of her confession. She waited for her mother to answer. An understanding glow brightened her face.
“In order to love someone, Angelique, it takes time. We hardly know each other, and the years we could have had together have long since passed.” Her countenance filled with sorrow. “I doubt we will have much of an opportunity in the future either, once you return to Austria to take your place as komtesse. I shall return to England, and who is to tell if fate will allow the two of us to see each other again?”
Unexpectedly, her mother rose and walked over to the other side of the table, pulling out an empty chair. Jolene stiffened unsure what to expect. She sat down, smiled, and then reached out and took her hand.
“I want you to know,” she began with a trembling voice, “that I am sincerely sorry if I have hurt you by my actions. I made the decision to go with Robert, whether you deem it morally right or wrong. I cannot undo the past and, in the end, I accept the consequences of that decision.”
Touched by her plea for forgiveness, Jolene nodded. “I understand, Mother. Perhaps if Jacquelyn had not taken me, we would have had some sort of a relationship.” She squeezed her mother’s hand in return. “It is wrong of me to blame you.” She fought back tears as she confessed her own fault. “I have judged you severely, and for that I ask for your forgiveness.”
Tears welled in her mother’s eyes, and she bent forward giving her a hug. Caught off guard by her actions, it took a few moments before Jolene found the courage to return the embrace. After holding each other in silence for a few moments, Jolene pulled away, wiped a tear off her cheek, and smiled.
“Have you ever been in love with a man, Jolene?” Her mother looked at her endearingly.
It was an odd question. She lowered her eyes. “No, and perhaps that has been my problem. It has been hard for me to understand the passion and love that drove you and the duke to want to be together. Nevertheless, it is not my place to judge, and I feel convicted from heaven above for having done so.”
Jolene thought for a few moments and then looked at Suzette. “Perhaps we can write while apart. I would like to confide in you, Mother if you wouldn’t mind. One day I will need a woman’s advice should I fall in love.”
Her mother glowed. “I would love to,” she said lightheartedly. “It’s not easy being a duchess in a stuffy English household. I often wish for a woman to talk to as well.”
“Well then,” Jolene replied briskly, “We shall write often and share our joys, worries, and hopes with one another.”
Suzette returned to her seat taking a sip of tea. “I wonder how Robert and my husband are progressing.”
“What are they up to?” Jolene asked, leaning forward.
“They are making a bid to end the war, I imagine.”
“Oh, dear,” she said. “Do you think they will succeed?”
“Philippe can be stubborn and prideful,” Suzette declared. “Let us hope for your sake, he softens and releases the bitterness of the past.”
“I don’t want any more strife,” Jolene said, shaking her head.
“I know, dear, and God willing it will soon come to an end.”
* * * *
Robert glanced through the glass window and quickly retreated out of sight. He walked a few steps back toward his father.
“Yes, he’s working, but there appears to be a patron in the store at the moment.”
“Then we’ll wait,” his father replied.
Robert, unable to remain in one spot, paced a few steps back and forth. He turned and looked at his father, worried over the impending meeting. “Now, you promise this won’t turn into some brawl,” he joked.
With a sly smile, the duke lifted one corner of his mouth and responded. “As far as I know, but I cannot promise how he will react.”
“Dear God, let’s hope he keeps a level head and doesn’t have a gun behind the counter,” Robert said.
His father frowned over his comment. “All will be well, Robert. Trust me.”
A few minutes later, the customer left with a cigar
box in hand. Robert’s father nodded toward the door and led the way. Without an ounce of hesitation, the duke placed his hand on the handle and pushed the door open. The bell rang above his head, catching Philippe’s attention. Robert followed close behind his father. After they entered, he closed the door and flipped the sign over to closed.
Philippe scowled. “What do you two want?” He ignored their presence and began fiddling with boxes of cigars on the shelf.
The duke approached the counter where Philippe stood. “I’d like to have a word with you, Philippe.” He hesitated, sucked in a deep breath, and spoke resolutely. “I’ve come to make peace between us.”
“Peace?” Philippe spun around. His eyebrow rose questioning the words. “And what, might I ask, does that mean?” His mouth pulled to one side in disgust.
“Your daughter wants reconciliation in her family,” the duke answered without a waver in his voice. “For her sake, we need to put behind us what happened eighteen years ago.”
Philippe stepped back and postured himself showing his height above his old rival. “Don’t you think it’s a bit late for that?” He appeared unmoved by the offer.
“It’s never too late,” the duke replied. He stood his ground and continued. “Eighteen years ago I manipulated and deceived you in the vilest possible way in order to steal your wife.”
“I haven’t forgotten,” Philippe replied. His nostrils flared. “If you recall, I tried to kill you because of it.”
“No, I haven’t forgotten,” the duke replied miserably, looking as if he were staring at the barrel of the gun once more. “Perhaps I owe you an apology for the way I went about bringing Suzette and Robert back into my life.” He stepped closer. “But I cannot apologize for the years I have enjoyed having them with me.”
Philippe looked at him showing no emotion. Robert held his breath hoping that he would be the man he believed lay underneath his hardened exterior. Frankly, Robert thought it sounded like a half-ass apology, but at least his father had admitted his duplicity after all these years. Philippe appeared unmoved and no closer to reconciliation. His father tried once more.
“I apologize.”
Philippe stared into the duke’s eyes. “Humph,” he spouted. The moments ticked by to the tune of the clock on the wall, while Philippe mulled over the duke’s words.
“Must I remind you that you were guilty of deception too?”
Philippe picked up a white cloth from below the counter and began wiping the glass countertop back and forth. Silent and not responding, Robert couldn’t figure out what the hell he was doing. Was he ceremoniously cleaning the excrement of his father’s words or erasing the past once and for all?
“Of course, I deceived you,” Philippe said, finally stopping and focusing his attention upon the duke. “We feared you would take Robert, so I lied to protect him.” He glanced at Robert with a glint of affection. “I also lied to protect Suzette.”
Philippe returned to cleaning the counter. Irritated that nothing had been accomplished, Robert thought they had failed. Apparently, his father bothered by his lack of response also, pressed for an answer.
“You haven’t accepted my apology, Philippe.” He sighed, clearly showing his frustration. “Are we going to end this once and for all or not?”
Having had enough, Robert spoke up keeping his temper under control. “For heaven’s sake, Philippe, this isn’t about the two of you and your petty grievances any longer. It’s about Angelique and her wishes for the future. Do it for her.” Robert reasoned with Philippe’s heart. “It’s about her—your daughter, who has finally returned to you and mother. Have you no delight in her discovery?”
The frown on Philippe’s face dissipated into a somber admission. Offering a gentleman’s handshake, the duke stretched forth his hand toward Philippe.
“Robert is right, Philippe. It is for her—not for you or me. Let us bring peace once and for all.” He glanced at Robert. “From what my son tells me, we are actually all she has left in this world. Can we at least give her a loving family to make up for the lost years?”
Philippe laid down the white linen cloth on the counter. He looked at the duke’s outstretched hand and grimaced. “I’ll be damned, you blackguard, if you think I’ll ever love you.”
Robert swallowed the lump in his throat and prepared to intervene once Philippe threw the first punch. Then to his utter surprise, his stepfather cracked a smile.
“But for Angelique’s sake, I will call a truce between us.”
Robert released a sigh of relief and lowered his tense shoulders. Philippe reached out, took his father’s hand, and shook it. He narrowed his dark eyes to make his last point.
“I do it for her, not for you.”
“Fair enough,” his father replied. “I do it for her as well.”
“Well, it’s about time.” Robert clapped. The sound of his palms slapping back and forth echoed in the small shop. He felt as if he had watched the ending of a dramatic opera scene. “Well done,” he congratulated them both.
The two clasped hands of foes parted. Philippe looked at the sign. “You’re hurting our sales, do you mind?” He nodded his head toward the door.
“Now that’s over, I’m happy to reopen,” Robert replied, walking over and turning the sign over.
Robert and his father looked at each other satisfied over what had transpired. But one thing remained unsolved in Robert’s mind, and he determined to bring it up before departing.
“Do you remember the conversation we had the other day and the question I asked you?”
“You’re asking a lot,” he grumbled.
His father appeared confused over the conversation but didn’t pry. “We are having dinner at seven thirty this evening. As I recall, we never fed you last night, and I think that’s the least we can do. Why don’t you join us tonight and take care of it then?”
“You bloody Englishmen” Philippe complained.
“No white ties,” Robert assured him. “Come as you did last evening.”
Philippe thought for a moment and smirked. “Well, I did go home hungry, I’ll admit that much.”
“Will you take care of it when you come?” Robert asked again.
“I will think about it.”
Robert shook his head over his stepfather’s stubbornness, but something in his voice told him he would relent. “Well, don’t think about it too long,” he scowled teasingly. “You have had eighteen years to decide whether you would grant it or not.”
“Fine, I’ll take care of it,” he said. “Now stop pressuring me about it.”
Robert smiled.
Chapter 31
The Final Pardon
Jolene had spent the majority of the day upstairs in her room. She returned to bed to sleep off the pain. The headache would not go away despite all the coffee she drank or the cold compresses she placed on her forehead.
The only comfort in her pain had been the release of estrangement that she struggled with concerning her mother. Unfortunately, their future relationship would probably consist of nothing more than correspondence between the two of them. It would not be the perfect relationship she envisioned, but nonetheless the thought of having no one would be worse.
As she pondered her days ahead, the thought of Jolene’s future began to look dim. Eventually, she would need to return to Austria alone. Everything she had set out to accomplish had been done. Whatever time remained in Paris with the duke, Suzette, Philippe, and Robert, she would try to savor until the day it ended. Responsibilities toward her stepfather’s estate awaited. For now, she must attend to the legacy he so graciously gave her to oversee.
Punching her pillow with her fist, she rearranged the feathers to support her aching head. Worrying about what to do next would only make her feel worse, so she closed her eyes and took a nap.
After a few hours of deep sleep, Jolene awakened. Her eyelashes fluttered, almost afraid that the light might pierce her with pain again but it did not. The headache had f
inally subsided. When she sat up and looked at the time, she couldn’t believe the late hour.
She rang for Maria, who swiftly arrived to help her bathe and dress for dinner. Everybody by this time probably wondered why she had kept herself locked in her room all day.
“Will everyone be home for dinner this evening?” she asked Maria. “I’ve barely exchanged a word with our guests except with the duchess.”
“Yes, as far as I know. The duke and duchess, plus his lordship are in the parlor together.”
Jolene looked in the mirror feeling awful. Dark circles were underneath her eyes, her hair was in disarray, and her nose hadn’t been powdered all day. “Well, you have your work cut out for you, Maria. I look wretched.”
“Oh, now, it’s not that bad,” she comforted her as she brushed the tangles from her hair. “Did something happen to make you ill?”
Poor Maria hadn’t a clue as to what had transpired all these months. “Yes, much has happened Maria. When we return to Austria, I shall tell you all about it.” For now, Jolene couldn’t even bring her mind to think of the next half an hour, let alone rehash the last eighteen years of her life with her lady’s maid.
After a few more brush strokes, Maria stopped. “I’ll go draw your bath water and put in lavender scent. The aroma will relax you before dinner.”
It sounded inviting. Jolene glanced at the clock counting the minutes she had left to bathe, dress, and join the family. The family, she thought to herself. A grin spread across her face at the thought that she had a family. But then, as if the joy had been snatched away, she remembered that soon she would be required to leave them all behind.
* * * *
Nothing could have prepared her for the sight her eyes beheld when she joined everyone in the parlor before the dinner hour. When she entered the room, she came to an abrupt halt. Philippe sat next to the duke, calmly sharing a before dinner drink. Her mother and Robert looked as peaceful as doves.
All the men stood to their feet upon her arrival. She brought her hand to her chest catching a breath of air. What were they all doing here? “Well, this is a surprise,” she said, slowly stepping into the room.
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