Destiny's Kiss (23 page)

The past three months had been filled with the joy she had hoped to find here. Spring had arrived, along with the opening of the river. Each week, a boat ran between Azilum and Wilkes-Barre to the south. Monsieur Davignon had purchased the boat after selling his share of the land around Azilum to Yves Suchard, who wanted to give it to his sister as a wedding gift. Maybe Monsieur Davignon had been the wisest of all of them, because he could enjoy an easier life along the river while the others struggled to clear their fields and get their planting finished. Soon those seeds would burst forth with food for next winter.

She laughed as she hooked her dress, struggling to close the ones around her waist. Those fields were not the only thing that would prove to be fertile before the summer arrived. She had wanted to tell Philippe she had conceived again before he'd left earlier in the week, but she had feared he would not go if he knew. He would want to watch her carefully as she went through this pregnancy, which was a true miracle. She guessed he would be as amazed as she was that she was able to have another baby.

She ate breakfast only because she knew she must do everything she could to make this baby healthy and strong. By the time she reached the river, where the wharf was half-built, a crowd had gathered in the spring breeze that whispered warm secrets through the leaves.

“Lirienne?”

She turned to smile at Agathe. Holding out her hands, she embraced her dear friend. “So this is what the happy bride-to-be looks like on the day after her betrothal.”

Agathe flushed, but could not hide her joy. “You know?”

“I happened to see you bidding Mr. Jacobs good night last night.” She laughed. “You looked very happy.”

Holding up her hand, she pointed to a ring with a small ruby in it. “He gave me this. Isn't it beautiful?”

“It's wonderful.” Lirienne smiled, although curiosity teased her. She had been sure Mr. Jacobs had traded the horses for her wedding band because he'd wanted to give it to Agathe. He must have traded it for something else. Maybe
this
ring. “Mr. Jacobs certainly must love you dearly to give you such a fancy ring.”

“He loves me, and I love him.” She wrapped her arms around herself. “I wished for a love like you and Philippe have, and now my dream has come true.”

“I hope it's even better than you've dreamed.” It was not easy to keep her smile from wavering. Agathe was only half-right. Although she loved Philippe, he never had told her that he loved her. But he would love their child. Of that, she was sure. “I have a bit of good news of my own.”

“What?”

“I'm going to have a baby.”

“A baby!” Agathe cried. “How wonderful!”

“Hush!” Lirienne laughed. “I shouldn't have told you until I told Philippe, but I can't keep it a secret any longer. You must, however, until I tell him.”

“I won't tell Yves.”

“Or Mr. Jacobs.”

Her eyes twinkled. “I'll try not to.” Suddenly her smile vanished. “Excuse me, Lirienne.”

She turned to see Monsieur de Talebot. She wanted to pretend she was looking at someone else, but he walked directly to her.

“I'm surprised to see you here,” she said, trying to be polite. “I thought you'd be overseeing your planting. Philippe told me that you had problems with the laborers you hired.”

He swore. “These Americans are useless. I wish I had some of my men from home. They knew how to bend their backs and keep their mouths shut. You know what I mean, of course.”

“Of course.” She looked back at the river. No matter what Vachel de Talebot said, it always was meant to remind her that she had been one of the servants who had slaved for the nobles. If she said that even in France things had changed radically, he would be infuriated with her … again. He already was furious that Philippe preferred to spend his evenings with her instead of calling on him as he had before. She did not want to argue, so she said, “Madame Davignon told me there would be some newcomers arriving on the boat this week. Is your wife coming north on this trip?”

“No.” He laughed shortly.

“You don't expect her to come here?”

“Not if I'm lucky.” He stamped away.

Lirienne frowned. She was sure Philippe had said Monsieur de Talebot would not be complaining much longer, because he would not be spending the summer nights alone as he had the winter ones.

Shouts from the river shook Monsieur de Talebot from her mind. The boat was almost to the landing. Her hands clenched on her apron. Where was Philippe? She could not see past the crowd surging toward the river, but she could wait a moment or two longer as she savored the thought of how, tonight, he would hold her. In that sweetness, she would share the news that she was pregnant. She remembered how delighted he had been in Philadelphia. She wanted to savor such a moment again in his arms.

Ropes were tossed ashore to moor the flatboat. With all the rushing on the boat and on the shore, she could see nothing but the backs of other people. Madame Davignon had been correct. The boat was crowded. She hoped they had enough room in the new cabins that had been built at the beginning of spring for all these new villagers.

“I saw him on there a few moments ago.”

When Yves laughed as he put his hand on her shoulder, Lirienne asked, “Am I that obvious?”

“Yes, but don't worry. Everyone is as excited as you are.” Yves grinned. “You want your husband, and I want that silk which he promised to bring back for Agathe's wedding gown.” He rolled his eyes. “I shouldn't have said that.”

“She just told me, so you didn't betray her secret.” She patted his arm. “I don't know how you two expected to keep it a secret when you both are grinning like children with a bowl of candy.”

Lirienne looked at the river when Yves was called away to help secure the boat. Leaning one way and then the other, she sought a glimpse of her husband. She saw him and started to wave.

Her hand halted as she heard the familiar, caustic laugh that carried over the voices of everyone on the shore. No, it was impossible! But it was certainly so, she realized with horror as her gaze locked with Charmaine Fortier's when the blonde stepped ashore like a triumphant explorer claiming this land for her own. She choked back her shock when she saw Madame Fortier's hand possessively holding Philippe's arm.

Madame Fortier said loudly, so no one could miss her words, “I see you have found the proper home for your peasant wife,
mon cher
.” She laughed as they walked toward Lirienne. “And with a tanned face and a red and peeling nose.”

“Welcome to Azilum, Madame Fortier,” Lirienne said with a quiet dignity which required all her strength to maintain. She looked at Philippe, but he wore no expression. Why? Did he fear that she would see his elation at having his beloved mistress back at his side?

Aware of too many eyes and ears eagerly eavesdropping on the conversation, she heard the buzz of whispers. The newcomers to Azilum were being informed about the past shared by Madame de Villeneuve, her husband, and Madame Fortier.

“Aren't we becoming egalitarian, Lirienne?” sneered Madame Fortier. “Once you bowed when you spoke to me.”

“Yes, we are egalitarian here, so I will forgive you for not addressing me as Madame de Villeneuve.” Hearing a giggle, she glanced over her shoulder to see Agathe.

Yves herded Agathe away as Madame Fortier scowled and swept past Lirienne.

Lirienne held out her hand to Philippe, but he did not smile. Something cramped in her stomach.

She would not let him close her out of his life again. Putting her hands on either side of his face, she drew his mouth to hers as she whispered, “Welcome home. I can't wait to tell you—”

“Aren't you going to escort me to my new home,
mon cher
?” called Madame Fortier in her most imperious voice. “Or have you become as vulgar as your wife and can no longer be the charming gentleman you once were?”

Philippe halted Lirienne's protest by saying, “Both Lirienne and I shall escort you to your cabin. That way she can see that you have what you need for your first night here.”

“I doubt that she will be willing to see that I have what I truly need tonight,” Madame Fortier said smugly.

Lirienne bit her lip to silence her outrage as Madame Fortier maneuvered herself between her and Philippe. Madame Fortier linked her arm with Philippe's, and the two continued up the path toward the village.

Hating to follow like a well-trained lapdog, Lirienne sighed. Her only other choice was to stay with her friends and neighbors, who would smother her with questions and pity. She would not do that.

“Madame de Villeneuve?” queried a tremulous voice behind her. “Are you Madame de Villeneuve?”

She turned to see a young woman. The woman was slight, but her brown eyes were huge with fear. Her simple dress and plain bonnet identified her instantly as a servant.

“Can I help you?” Lirienne asked.

“Madame de Villeneuve, I don't dare to be alone in this horrible wilderness, and my lady is so far ahead that I doubt I can catch up while I carry this bag.”

“Your lady?” She choked, feeling as if she were seeing her reflection in the young woman's fearful face which could have been hers last year. She glanced to where Philippe and Madame Fortier had reached the common area. “You work for Charmaine Fortier?”

“Yes.” The newcomer hefted the heavy bag she carried. “I am Giselle.”

“I don't recall you at the Fortiers' home.”

“I arrived after Monsieur Fortier died.”

“He's dead?”

“Yes, a few months ago.”

“By the guillotine?” Sickness ate through her. Living on Monsieur Fortier's estate had not been horrible until he married Charmaine. The old man had been kind to his servants.

Giselle said hastily, “No, not like that. Time simply became too much for his heart, Madame de Villeneuve.”

“If she has his wealth, why is she here?”

The maid regarded her with pity. “I shouldn't say if you don't know about it.”

“Know about what?”

“The letter,” she whispered.

Her throat tightened. “What letter?”

“I shouldn't say.”

Again Lirienne looked at the village. When Madame Fortier tipped her head onto Philippe's shoulder, Lirienne recoiled as if Madame Fortier had slapped her. “Tell me about this letter,” she said as Philippe assisted Madame Fortier up the steps of one of the new cabins.

“Madame de Villeneuve, my lady, received a letter begging her to come here if she ever had the good fortune to be widowed.” Anger whetted her voice. “Those were the exact words. ‘The good fortune to be widowed.'” She lowered her eyes. “I'm sorry.”

Madame Fortier's strident voice intruded, “Giselle? Girl, are you stupid? Get over here.”

Lirienne watched the serving woman race to do her lady's bidding. Waves of remembered fear crashed against her despair as she met Philippe's gaze from across the common area. She knew he expected her to welcome his mistress to Azilum. Was Madame Fortier's arrival why he had been so excited about going to Wilkes-Barre?

“This should be very intriguing.”

She stiffened as she heard Monsieur de Talebot's comment. Not replying, she walked toward the settlement. She did not slow her pace until she opened her own door. A sob was trapped behind her tight lips. It became a gasp when she heard her husband's footsteps on the porch.

Philippe's face was still devoid of emotion as he said, “I trust everything went well while I was away.”

“It was fine.” She fought to keep her voice as steady as his. “Cristal is doing well with her foal. The other horses are enjoying the pleasant weather.”

“Good.” He rubbed his eyes with his knuckles and yawned. “I'll be back as soon as we get the boat unloaded and the newcomers settled.”

He kissed her swiftly before he rushed back out the door, letting it slam behind him. She put her hand to her lips and struggled not to cry. This was not the kiss she had waited for.
Trust me
. He had asked it of her so often. And she had, when trusting had been easy. Now … She was no longer sure of him, of herself, of anything.

Lirienne whirled away from the door, which showed all the activity on the common. Going out the back way, she turned her attention to her chores, hoping that the tiring tasks would silence her pain. Dishes needed to be washed, as well as clothes.

Sunshine burned down as she spread the clothes on the bushes to dry. She was draping Philippe's best shirt onto a shrub when she heard her name called in that hateful voice. In astonishment, she saw Madame Fortier picking her way across the muddy yard.

Lirienne held her laundry basket like a shield as she said, “I didn't expect you'd be making calls when you are so newly arrived.”

“Where is Philippe?”

“Helping unload the boat,” she said, smiling. Her heart soared with happiness that her husband had not returned to Madame Fortier. But, if he had written to his mistress and invited her here …

“Good!”

“Good?” That was not the answer she had expected.

“I wanted to speak to you alone.” Arrogance filled her voice. “I should have guessed you'd be in the dirtiest place here. This barnyard must remind you of the one where you were born.”

“This barnyard,” she said, leaning the basket against the railing and looking at the horses, “is one of Philippe's favorite places.”

Madame Fortier ran her fingers across her breasts and smiled. “His favorite places may change.”

“I would not wager on that, if I were you.”

“You are, thank heavens, not me, and you never could be.” Reaching into her low bodice, Madame Fortier pulled out a small purse. She tossed it at Lirienne's feet. “Pick it up, and use the gold in there to buy yourself passage to France. When you arrive, file for a divorce from Philippe.”