Finally, Colette pointed to the ceiling, then leaned her head to the side while placing her hands against her cheek and closing her eyes. Amanda smiled faintly when she realized the woman was asking her if she wanted to rest.
Amanda knew the proper response, but nodded instead. Then she accepted Colette’s outstretched hand and followed her to the rear of the house where the staircase to the second floor was located. Amanda had heard of Acadians building staircases on the outside of their homes to save space on the inside, and she followed Colette to the second floor. The floor plan above was situated much like the first floor, with two rooms on either side of the center wall, which housed the fireplaces. On the second floor, however, one had to walk on the outside balcony to get to the other side.
“Alcée,” Colette said, as they stood in the first room.
Amanda nodded, realizing that this must be the uncle’s room.
After they walked through a doorway leading to the next room, Colette announced, “René.”
Again, Amanda nodded and glanced around her husband’s sparsely furnished, yet extremely neat bedroom. A massive dark mahogany bed occupied the center with a mosquito net hanging from its canopy. Towards the front door, a small chest of drawers sat underneath the opened window that allowed a small breeze to enter. A comfortable-looking chair, next to a pile of books on the floor, completed the room’s furnishings. The scattered books appeared out of place in the organized setting, and Amanda wondered if they were an indication of René’s personality while the room’s cleanliness was a result of Colette’s. She made a mental note to check the books’ titles.
What Amanda noticed most of all were the light, lace curtains billowing in the morning breeze as if welcoming her home. The twisted majestic oak trees surrounding the house fought off the intense summer sun, yet the house radiated a soft, diffused light. She inhaled the fresh air circulating through the open windows and doors and felt rejuvenated despite her lack of sleep. As scared as Amanda felt standing in the strange man’s bedroom, her heart felt ten times brighter. Somewhere in the deep recesses of her soul a voice told her all would be well.
Colette pointed to the bed and made a hasty retreat, closing the door to Alcée’s room behind her. The door to the front balcony remained open and air continued to stream through, teasing the sweaty curls gracing her forehead.
Amanda removed her wrap before cautiously sitting down on René’s moss-filled mattress. It was then she noticed the painting. Above the fireplace hung a portrait of seven people, two seated in the center who appeared to be the parents of the group with five grown children, who resembled each other, surrounding them. René stood smiling at the back, the tallest and oldest of the siblings. They were all smiling, Amanda noticed, one large happy family.
Suddenly Amanda felt fatigue creep back into her bones and she lay down on the bed, facing away from the smiling people whose culture and language were so distant from her own. She had always envied people who came from large families. Now it was possible she’d lost her father, her closest, and as far as she was concerned, only relative. Her father had cut them off from her mother’s family a long time ago. Her Protestant Virginia relatives were elderly aunts and uncles who didn’t take kindly to Catholic children born from scandalous women. They had been little more than polite when she had boarded at the school near their homes. Only when she had agreed to attend church with them did they seem vaguely interested.
Again, the images of the past few hours came flooding back —the conversation with her father over her Catholic upbringing and the lack of proper suitors; René being so disagreeable at the gate; the crowded market and Tanner’s intrusive mouth upon hers.
How ironic life worked. She had wished for a kiss, and a kiss she received. But she never dreamed it would be one standing in front of a priest.
Amanda gently touched her fingers to her lips and vividly remembered how René had gently kissed them after she had said her vows. He was the epitome of a gentleman throughout the ceremony, holding her right hand tightly in front of them and placing another arm around her waist to support her. He translated the priest’s words when she failed to comprehend them, and when the priest said his final words, René turned toward her and ever so cautiously leaned over and brushed his lips to hers.
It had been the most exciting thing she had ever experienced.
Amanda rolled over and gazed up into her husband’s eyes staring at her from above the fireplace. His eyes, she determined, were her favorite feature. Although his broad shoulders, tall stance and feather-soft brown hair were enticing from a woman’s point of view, Amanda preferred his eyes above all else. They spoke of a warm, friendly personality, sparkling like firecrackers when he broke into a smile. Those deep brown eyes her grandmere used to call “French eyes” seemed to announce that she was safe within their reach. Feeling their presence blanketing her, she drifted off to sleep.
It had seemed like only minutes had passed when she heard two horses approach and the raised voices of two angry men, even though Amanda knew the sun had reached its zenith and was now cascading down towards the western horizon. René’s voice she recognized immediately, but the other, throatier man was a new one. It was he who argued heatedly with René, his voice reaching up to the second floor.
The French words came fast and furious, much too quickly for Amanda’s unpracticed ear. She made out a few words, however, ones such as “imbecile,” “reckless” and “you should have known better than to marry an American.”
Had René told his relatives what happened? Were they critical of his actions regarding Henry Tanner or just marrying American girls in particular. She didn’t imagine they would be happy about either.
Amanda quietly crept down the stairs, anxious to learn of René’s meeting with her father. She peered into the living room until René and the other man came into view. René stood pensively at the fireplace, one hand grasping the marble mantle, the other hand inside his trousers pocket while a boot rested on a fireplace log. His jaw tightened at the other man’s words and his face exhibited a diligent attempt to remain calm despite the anger brewing at his temple. Every few moments his hand balled into a fist, then relaxed as if he was fighting the urge to strike something or someone.
Amanda doubted René was listening. He seemed to be enduring the conversation more than heeding the other man’s words. She suspected it was a repeat performance.
Staring at the now worried brown eyes that had not seen sleep in two days, Amanda felt a desire to rush into René’s arms and hold him tight, to shelter him from the unkind words this relative was inflicting upon him. Didn’t this man realize what René had done, how noble he had been to marry a woman he barely knew for the mere sake of saving her reputation?
As if René read her mind, he looked up and noticed Amanda standing at the threshold. He stared emotionless at her for several moments before the other man realized her presence.
“Alcée,” René announced calmly when the other man stopped talking. “Let me introduce my wife, Amanda.”
The blood retreated from Amanda’s face and she felt her heart quicken when the slightly older man turned the corner. His gaze was critical and harsh.
“Madame Comeaux,” he said with a short, stiffly polite bow, his voice colored with cynicism.
René rubbed his temples, visibly irritated that Alcée had made the introduction unpleasant. Amanda extended her hand to Alcée in an attempt to ease the tension between the two men. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Monsieur Dugas. I have heard a lot about you.”
Alcée eyed her hand, then cautiously accepted it. “When did you hear these tales, between midnight and morning?”
His tone unnerved her, but Amanda fought to keep her ground. If René could take the beating for her honor, then she at least must stand the fight. “I have heard quite a few tales about the famous Comeaux and Dugas horse track, sir. And René has talked about you quite often at my house.”
“You mean outside your house,
don’t you Miss Richardson? If I’m not mistaken, Acadians aren’t allowed inside.”
Before Amanda could fully digest the words, Alcée angrily passed her on his way out the door. She took a deep breath and gazed up to René for support. The deep eyes which had held laughter in the portrait upstairs stared at her with a solemn intensity.
“I take it the meeting with my father this morning didn’t go well.”
René laughed, which startled Amanda more than his brooding. “No,” he said with a sad grin. “It didn’t go well.”
“What did he say?”
René looked off as if pondering the right words. “What didn’t he say is more like it. Let’s see. There was a part about me being a treasure hunter, I believe is the right expression. Wanting to marry you for your hordes of money or something to that extent. Oh no, I’ve got it. I’m a ‘swindler of an old man’s money and his only daughter.’ There was also a delightful speech about me ruining such a chaste woman and being a father’s worst nightmare. Did I mention the part where he insulted my family? No, I don’t think I did.”
“René.” Amanda reached out to touch his arm in an offer of sympathy, but he instantly moved away. “I’m sorry.”
“Sorry?” he asked, his voice rising. “Sorry for falling for that fool Tanner or for having to marry me?”
The guilt and shame over her actions resumed its ugly hold on Amanda’s heart. “I’m sorry for hurting you,” she forced out, hoping the words wouldn’t turn into the sobs fighting to be released.
René grabbed his hat from off the mantle and straightened. “Well, it’s too late for that.”
When he placed the hat on his head, Amanda knew the conversation was over. Panic seized her. “Where are you going?”
He paused at the threshold. “I’ve lost almost a day. There’s work to be done.”
“Then let me help.”
René smiled cynically. “At a racetrack? Now what would the Judge say to that?”
“Please don’t leave me,” she pleaded.
“You won’t be alone long. Your father’s on his way. He wants to make sure you’re well, that I haven’t chained you to the altar or beaten you into submission. Perhaps he’s afraid I’ve put you to work shoveling manure at the stables.”
“René....”
Pausing at the doorway, René turned, showing Amanda the anger lurking beneath the surface. “I can stand being called names. I can understand him thinking that an Acadian such as myself might want to ‘marry up.’ I can even take his criticism of my work. But I will never allow a man to belittle my family. Do you understand?”
With those final words, René headed for the racetrack.
Alcée stormed into his bedroom and slammed the door. He didn’t know what made him angrier, his nephew’s irresponsible behavior or his violent reaction to the news. He had always been able to talk to René, always able to reason with him, work things out. Instead, he unleashed a fury on his nephew he never released before. When he learned René approached Judge Richardson regarding the elopement of his only daughter, for the first time Alcée imagined his beloved friend and nephew in jeopardy. René gambling with his life so recklessly infuriated him.
Amanda was indeed pretty in a sweet sort of way. He could see now why the boy had fallen in love with her. She had a pleasant, cheerful, unpretentiousness about her that reminded him of René. He could understand how the two had become friends.
But marriage? They were cultures and worlds apart. Their marriage had a slim chance of survival. Alcée could tell by the confused look on Amanda’s face that she didn’t understand French. Who was going to teach her the language, he wondered? What would their children speak?
Alcée stopped pacing and sat on the edge of his bed. How would she communicate with Marie, René’s mother, and the rest of their family? None of them spoke English, except for an expression or two.
As Alcée’s heartbeat slowly returned to normal, he sighed. He was thankful René was all right. Amanda appeared unharmed as well. Perhaps, in time, they would work it all out.
A carriage approached the house and Alcée moved toward the front balcony to see who was visiting. He watched Amanda walk toward the carriage apprehensively, standing a good yard or two away from its doors.
Who on earth, thought Alcée, until the doors opened and an angry Judge Richardson emerged. The two stood staring at each other in silence until the judge raised his right hand and sent a scalding slap across his daughter’s face.
Alcée jumped at the sight of the man striking his child. His first urge was to run to Amanda’s side in case her father decided to harm her again, but he soon assessed that the worst was over. Her father began shouting and demanding answers, but Amanda stood still, much like René had when Alcée vented his anger. Alcée watched the blonde head carefully, but it never flinched. Whatever anger or pain she was experiencing was carefully hidden away.
Finally, her father grabbed her by the shoulders hoping to make her talk. Alcée again thought of descending the stairs, but his instincts warned against it. He would not let the Judge hurt Amanda, but he would equally not act in haste, causing more problems between the two families.
“Amanda Rose,” the Judge said almost in a pleading voice. “Tell me this is a mistake. Mistakes we can fix. I can have the marriage annulled in no time. Life will go on as before. It will be like this nightmare never happened.”
Amanda stared down at the ground by her feet, saying nothing. The opportunity was perfect, Alcée thought. All she had to do was agree and they would all go back to normal. Problem solved.
“And what about René?” Amanda asked.
“What about him?” the Judge answered between gritted teeth.
She looked up then, staring at her father proudly. “If I annul the marriage René will be the laughing stock of town. He has a business to think of and a reputation. You’re asking me to destroy everything he has built.”
“What business? It’s a horse track, for God’s sake. No one’s going to care if he failed at trying to marry into one of the most prominent families in town. People like him have nowhere else to go but up. They may laugh, but they’ll soon forget it. He’ll be free to marry one of his own kind.”
“Like you did?”
Alcée was surprised to see Judge Richardson flinch at the words. A look passed over his face that Alcée never witnessed in the always solemn Judge. A look of vulnerability, perhaps. A hint of being human after all.
Alcée was equally surprised at Amanda’s next words.
“I love René,” she said with difficulty.
The Judge laughed cynically. “The hell you do.”
“Why do you doubt it?”
“Because before this week René Comeaux never existed. If you had pined for the man and I had repeatedly refused, you may have done such a thing as elope but you have never mentioned the man except for the fact that he greets you at the fence every once in a while.”
“Every morning,” Amanda inserted, which made the Judge pause momentarily.
“You never would have defied me,” he insisted. “You always did as you were told.”
“I turned twenty-one yesterday or have you forgotten?”
The Judge removed his hat to wipe the sweat from his brow. “We said a lot of things yesterday, but nothing to incite you to this.” He waved a hand with disgust toward the house. Alcée backed up a few steps, hoping he hadn’t been seen. When the two resumed talking, he assumed he hadn’t.
“Amanda, it’s a simple procedure,” the Judge pleaded. “You can come home with me now and all will be forgiven.”
“At the expense of René.”
“Damn René,” he shouted. “He’s a blood sucker.”
“No, Father,” Amanda lifted her chin bravely. “He’s my husband. And I intend to keep it that way.”
The two remained silent, again staring at each other in a war of wills. Judge Richardson, admitting defeat, slammed his hat back on his head and turned to enter the
carriage.
“Don’t expect my blessing or my support,” he said without turning. “You will get neither.”
Her resolve slipping, Amanda swallowed, then quietly said, “I would appreciate it if you would have Virginia pack my clothes for me and send them around. As it is, I have nothing to wear.”
The Judge paused at the remark but said nothing. He entered the carriage and motioned to the driver. The carriage bolted off toward the road.
Amanda stood silently, watching the carriage until it disappeared from sight. Alcée thought to go to her, but before he could reach the bottom floor, she was gone.
The emotions that raged inside her were dangerously close to the surface. Amanda knew she had to find a secluded spot soon before she lost all control.
Finally settling under the wide expanse of a live oak tree, far away from the house and its inhabitants, Amanda started to shake violently. At first the sobs seemed lodged inside her and all she could do was hug herself and rock slowly back and forth. Then, as if the pain manifested itself and rose up through her chest to freedom, she began to sob incessantly. She wrapped her arms around her knees, then buried her head inside her hands but nothing relieved the choking emotions. All the guilt and fear of the past two days, coupled with her intense fatigue, were a weight upon her chest, dragging her down into an abyss of despair.
Amanda’s hysterical sobbing drowned out all other sounds. She comprehended nothing but the relentless pain tearing at her heart. When the leather boots appeared at her feet and a gentle arm pulled her softly against his chest, all Amanda grasped was that God had taken pity on her and sent an angel to comfort her in her anguish.
“Go ahead and cry,” she heard her angel say while he planted kisses on the top of her head. “I’m here.”
Amanda buried her head into the soft cotton shirt and held on to her angel’s lapel, fearing he might disappear as quickly as her former life had done.
“Things will turn out all right in time,” the voice reassured her.
A Cajun Dream (The Cajun Series Book 5) Page 5