Beside it sat a George I period chair in walnut on elegant cabriole supports, which were decorated with shell-carved knees that terminated in ball-and-claw feet.
To the side of the secretary, on the wall covered in yellow watered silk, hung a fabulous pair of carved wood and gilded two-branch girandoles, decorated with birds, torches, and wheat sheafs, and hung with crystal drops.
Kitty had crossed the room to where she kept her evening bottle of wine on a Chinese altar table with two secret compartments. It was one of her favorite pieces, and she watched, smiling with pleasure, as Dani admired her other pieces…fruits of long hours of laborious searching in out-of-the-way French antique shops.
She poured them each a glass of rosé, then served Dani before gesturing to her newest addition to the room. “A treasure,” she explained proudly as they stood before the painting of a young man and woman embracing as they sat together in a wooden swing, suspended by ropes from an overhanging branch. “I was at a tea last week given in honor of the new German ambassador, and it was such a lovely afternoon, I decided to walk home. Along the way, I discovered a tiny little shop on the Rue Jussieu, and the owner was not learned enough to know the works of Pierre-Auguste Cot. He died in 1883, and his paintings are becoming more valuable each year.”
Dani was appropriately impressed. Thanks to Kitty’s influence, she had herself been studying art for the past year, and she could well appreciate the works of Cot.
Kitty motioned her to join her on the Hepplewhite sofa.
Dani nodded in acknowledgment of the 1786 piece. Kitty had discovered this treasure, covered in blue velvet, with graceful curves and light, slender woodwork, along the Rue Bonaparte. “You are a wonder,” she said. “I’m afraid I’ve much to learn.”
“You grew up surrounded by art treasures,” Kitty was quick to remind her. “I’ve heard that once upon a time the deBonnett family possessed one of the most valuable collections of art in France.”
Dani laughed ruefully. “‘Once upon a time’ is right. I recall when we first went to live at the château, the halls were lined with paintings, but as the Count’s fortune diminished due to his compulsion for gambling, so did the enviable collection of art. By the time he was killed in that duel, the halls were bare.”
Kitty sighed. “Such a waste. But come, enjoy our wine, and I’ll tell you all about your father’s trip.” She went on to explain how Ferdinand de Lesseps, the noted French engineer who had built the Suez Canal, had organized a joint-stock company to cut a canal across the Isthmus of Panama, but the venture had turned out to be costly and difficult. Two years ago, the company had collapsed, and large numbers of shareholders had been stripped of their savings. Consequently, demands were being made for a parliamentary investigation, and Travis had been asked by his government to go to Panama and view the situation in preparation for the hearings because the interests of many American investors were also involved.
Dani listened, but halfheartedly, for she was still quite peeved over Perrine’s remarks.
Finally, Kitty dared to probe. “Something is wrong, Dani. Do you want to talk about it?”’
Dani felt a warm rush of gratitude and poured out all that had happened and her feelings about it.
Kitty listened quietly, patiently, nodding now and then until Dani had finished. Then she said, in what she hoped was not too stem a voice, “I know you want to be in control of your own life, dear, but are you sure you aren’t confusing the struggle for independence with obstinacy?”
Dani blinked, not understanding. “Obstinacy? Why on Earth would you think that?”
“I know it has to be very difficult to learn to make your own decisions when your every thought was manipulated by your Aunt Alaina, but just because you’re now determined to think for yourself, don’t close your heart to love.”
“I don’t understand what you’re trying to say, Kitty.” Kitty sighed, stood, and began to pace about. Dear Lord, she was not this girl’s mother, had not raised her, had only come to know her, actually, this past year. She realized there was a thin line between advice and interference, yet Kitty had never been one to mince words when she felt strongly about something, so she decided to plunge ahead. “Don’t turn your back on the possibility you might truly love Perrine, Dani,” she said. “You may be so determined to be independent that you might be willing to deny that love.”
A furious shake of her head sent chestnut curls flying about her face. “I don’t love Perrine, Kitty,” Dani said firmly, fiercely.
It was Kitty’s turn to be baffled. “But you seem so upset—”
“Yes,” Dani was quick to admit, “upset and angry because he dared to insinuate I was trifling with him. Since when is a woman obligated to marry a man merely because she accepts his company socially? Since when does it mean I’m looking for a husband because I enjoy going out with men?”
Suddenly, Kitty burst into uncontrollable laughter, sinking down on the sofa once again and covering her face with her hands as her body continued to convulse with amusement.
Just as Dani, somewhat miffed by Kitty’s behavior, was about to demand an explanation, Kitty reached out and clasped both her hands tightly. “Oh, Dani, you’re the echo of my own indignance when I was your age. I didn’t mean to laugh, but it just brought back so many memories.
“You aren’t wrong to feel as you do,” she went on. “You don’t owe a man anything except honesty, and not even that if you’re disposed to answer only to yourself. You certainly owe Perrine nothing. Not even an explanation as to your feelings.”
Dani was filled with gratitude but felt the need to confide further. “I can’t help but feel a little bit guilty because I did hurt him, and—”
“No!” Kitty cried sharply. “You are never responsible for what another person feels, only what you feel. Remember that you are never accountable for another person’s reactions to your feelings and beliefs.”
She paused to give her a hug. “I love you so much, Dani. You’re the daughter I never had but always wanted, and I want you to be happy.”
Dani grinned from her heart. “I know, and I’m so grateful for a friend like you.”
They shared a second glass of wine, and Kitty once more renewed her urging that Dani travel. “Spend some of your money, see the world, experience all life has to offer.”
Dani assured her she had thought about it but then declared, “The truth is, I don’t want to behave like a giddy-headed debutante, or rich society girl, flitting all over the world with no purpose except having fun. I want a goal. A challenge. A career. I want independence…a life of my own without having to depend on anyone else.”
Eyes glowing with the warmth inside, sired by the wine and the love she felt for her stepdaughter, Kitty leaned to embrace her once more as she whispered huskily, “Then do it, Dani, darling. If that’s your dream, then go out and find it.”
Chapter Two
Dani was awakened just before seven by Lurline, her personal maid.
Sunlight rushed into the room as Lurline opened the white brocade drapes. “Bonjour, mademoiselle. Your father would like you to join him on the terrace for breakfast.”
Dani stretched, yawned, smiled with delight. “Wonderful. I was hoping to see him before he had to leave.”
“Shall I draw your bath?” Lurline offered.
“Please.” Dani sat up, stretched once again. She loved the large bed, loved everything about this room. While Kitty had urged her to make the final choices of decor, she had certainly guided her all the way, and the results were, she felt, quite lovely.
The canopy gracefully draping above the bed was of the finest handmade Belgian lace. Nearby was a superb Louis XV bombé commode in kingwood, with gilded bronze mounts of the highest quality. Each morning, in season, a bouquet of fresh flowers from Kitty’s pampered gardens was placed on it.
Dani and Kitty had found the Queen Anne bureau bookcase at an estate auction only a few months ago. Enriched by ornamentation of hand-molded br
ass, it opened to reveal a leather writing surface and numerous shelves and pigeonholes within.
At one end of the room was a white Bechstein piano and a Regency loveseat covered in imported Spanish velvet with a hand-embroidered design of swans and geese.
There was hand-rubbed mahogany molding around the walls, with rich beechwood paneling below and wallpaper of Flemish design above.
Dani’s favorite in the room, however, was the wall opposite her bed, which displayed paintings from France, England, and Austria, representing four centuries of European landscape.
Dani bathed. Then, with Lurline’s help, brushed her hair back into a chignon, which was the quickest style. She adorned the coif with a scarf of chiffon the same lavender as her dress.
She looked among the many crystal atomizers which were displayed on a gilt-edged mirror tray on her dressing table, and selected the one her father had brought her from a trip to Austria in the spring. She’ misted herself lavishly, then rose to scrutinize herself in the large, oval mirror above the table.
Lurline, hovering nearby, pressed her hands together in delight. “Oh, mademoiselle, you are lovely, as always, like a breath of fresh air on a spring morning.”
Dani thanked her for such a dramatic compliment and continued to stare at her reflection thoughtfully. She had but one photograph of her mother, and that was in the tiny gold locket she wore about her neck. Her Grandfather Barbeau had given it to her when she was a child, and it was her most cherished possession. But back in Kentucky, in the short time she lived there before Aunt Alaina married and they moved away, she had spent long hours standing before the huge life-size painting of her mother which had hung in the parlor, memorizing every detail.
Her mother, she recalled, had been tall, as was she. Her hair was also chestnut, and her eyes brown. Yet, she could also see a part of her father in the reflection before her, in the thick lashes, the curve of her jaw.
Men said she was beautiful. She wondered if she truly was, then laughed to herself with a touch of vanity and decided maybe she was attractive after all.
There was a knock on the door, and Lurline hurried to respond.
She returned with a dozen long-stemmed red roses cradled in her arms and, smiling knowingly, declared, “They are from Monsieur Perrine Ribaudt. Shall I read the card?”
Dani’s retort was sharp, almost angry. “No! I’ll read it later. I’m late for breakfast.”
With a swish of her skirts, she moved by Lurline, who stared after her in bewilderment.
Glass doors opened from the dining room onto a sprawling terrace of marble. Overhead, the roof was camouflaged by a canopy of entwining vines and fragrant jasmine blossoms. Beyond the terrace, streams of buttery-gold sunshine made their way through leafy trees to tease and tantalize the bubbling diamonds birthed by the ornate fountain, situated amid Kitty’s prize lilies.
A narrow, shrub-lined path led from the fountain into the beauteous interior of the gardens. Melodious song rose from the variety of birds attracted to the meticulously cared-for landscaping. Butterflies of every kind and color flitted among the numerous flowers, oblivious to the humming of civilization just beyond the thick, protective hedge lining the busy Rue de Bordeaux.
The mansion afforded the Coltranes by the government was conveniently, and attractively, situated on a knoll that bestowed a splendorous view of the Porte de la Tournelle to the northeast.
Dani loved the scene before her but most of all, she reflected with a gentle skip of her heart, she loved the man seated at the round glass table on the terrace.
Maturity of years had not robbed Travis Coltrane of his build or stature. He was still ramrod straight and tall, with broad shoulders and firm, corded muscles in his arms and thighs. His steel-gray eyes glowed with the mysterious fires of a man keenly intelligent, attuned to adversary and admirer alike. And the touch of silver at his temples merely added to his allure.
Travis Coltrane was still a strikingly handsome man, who turned the appreciative eye of every woman he passed. And he was her father, Dani thought with glowing pride.
She hurried onto the terrace and went to stand behind him, wrapping her arms around him in a fond embrace. Bestowing a kiss on the top of his head, she said, “Bonjour, Poppa.”
Travis reached up to wrap his fingers around her wrist in a returning embrace. “Poppa, indeed,” he scoffed. “That sounds like one of those old men wool-gathering in front of the Square du Vert-Galant. Do I remind you of them?”
She shook her head merrily. “Of course not.” She gave a mock sigh. “Very well, then—bonjour, Father!”
“That’s more like it.” Then softly, fondly, he murmured, “Good morning, lovely daughter.” He was warmly grateful for the closeness spawned between them in the past year.
She sat down next to him, waving away his offer of the silver tray of warm, flaky croissants, glistening with butter. “I must watch my figure”—she saucily quoted Kitty’s fond saying—“so the men will watch me.”
Travis raised a teasing eyebrow. “Like young Perrine Ribaudt? I hear roses arrived first thing this morning.”
Dani made a face. “I’m afraid roses won’t smooth over his accusation that I’m trifling with him merely because I won’t marry him.”
Gone was the twinkle in his eye, and Travis’s voice took on a serious note as he covered her hand with his. “Kitty told me about your conversation last night, Dani, and I agree with you he had no right to make such an insinuation. Would you like for me to speak with him?”
She shook her head. “I’m not going to think about it anymore,” she announced. “If he wants to be ridiculous, then, sad though it be, I can live without his friendship.”
Travis nodded his approval. “Good girl,” he said, then added with fondness, “but I can’t blame him for trying. You are lovely, Dani, just like your mother. You have the same charm and grace, though I suspect sometimes you inherited a bit of vinegar from your ‘Poppa’.” He winked.
“Well, that’s just fine and dandy if I did,” she said. “I just wish I’d inherited it sooner, like years ago, when Aunt Alaina started her evil…”
She allowed her voice to trail off, deciding not to bring up such an unpleasant subject. They had already spent long hours talking about it when she had first come to Paris to live. They had decided it best, then, to get it all out in the open, discuss it, then put it away and try to forget. Yet, here she was, allowing the ugliness to surface once more.
She attempted to change the subject abruptly and asked, “Will you be away long? The ballet opens at the Théâtre National de l’Opéra in just three weeks, and Kitty and I are looking forward to having you escort us and make us the envy of every woman in Paris.”
Travis apologetically explained that in all likelihood he would be away much longer than three weeks, perhaps a month or more. “I’m leaving by train this afternoon for Cherbourg, and the ship leaves from there. Quite frankly,” he added, pouring himself another cup of tea, “I dread the trip. I wish Kitty were going with me.”
“Oh, do take her, please,” Dani said quickly, realizing her presence was probably preventing Kitty from going. “I’ll be just fine here alone, really. The two of you could have a nice vacation together.”
Travis shook his head and assured her she was certainly not the reason Kitty was staying behind. “The climate down there isn’t that appealing, and neither is the political atmosphere at this time. Besides that, she wants to be here for the ballet, as well as to start new classes at the Sorbonne.”
Dani remembered Kitty having mentioned taking a course there, had even thought about attending with her. She found the history of the college fascinating. Located off the little square called Place de la Sorbonne, the name of the university was taken from Robert de Sorbonne, who founded it in 1253. Near the main entrance the Church of the Sorbonne was situated, and it was there that Cardinal Richelieu was entombed. As a powerful cardinal and head of the Sorbonne, he decreed that the faculty should owe allegi
ance neither to Paris nor to France, only to the Council of the Sorbonne. This had permitted teachers wide freedom, which accounted for the independent spirit of the university.
Suddenly Travis flashed her a probing gaze and bluntly asked, “Why don’t you take Kitty’s advice and do some traveling yourself? You’re young. Intelligent. Beautiful. Financially independent. Why are you doing nothing with your life?”
Dani was at once hurt by his words. “I don’t call learning to know and love my family doing nothing with my life.”
Travis immediately apologized. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be so critical.” His eyes searched hers then with affection, and he said, “I think we do know each other now, Dani, as well as love each other, so perhaps it’s time you experienced other things in life, met new people, educated yourself by learning more about the world around you.”
She nodded thoughtfully. “Perhaps you’re right.”
He reached into the pocket of his coat and brought out a long white envelope and held it out to her. It was addressed to him, in care of the embassy, and had been opened. “Perhaps you can start by making one last trip to Monaco.”
She blinked, puzzled, took the envelope and withdrew the folded letter inside. As she scanned the pages, Travis explained, “As you know, when Alaina died, she was nearly destitute. The Count had lost the family fortune due to his gambling compulsion. Alaina had begun to sell off her jewels and the valuable furnishings. That was what motivated her to back Gavin Mason’s scheme to take your money and Colt’s in a swindle that almost worked.”
Dani closed her eyes in painful remembrance. “I really don’t want to go back over all that. It makes me think of the convent, and all that happened, and how I nearly lost you forever.”
He murmured in agreement, then continued. “Well, I made a trip down there to close out her estate, what, there was of it, and that’s when I discovered I could hang on to the château for you by paying the delinquent taxes.”
Love and Splendor: The Coltrane Saga, Book 5 Page 2