Pride of the King, The (13 page)

“Chosen him! Is that what you think?" she said, turning toward Lauren. "Did it ever occur to you that I
have
to go there?"

"But--" stammered Lauren.

"But what? You forget. I am a slave. He owns me and has the right to beat me or sell me. He can do whatever he wants. He could sell me into a life that is even worse!"

Lauren stared at Eugenie then put her hand to her forehead. She walked down the steps and murmured, "Oh. I have been so stupid."

"You'll never know what it’s like to be a slave," Eugenie said. Her were eyes cold. “You are a white girl. Free to leave here whenever you wish!"

Suddenly they heard Madame scream. It seemed to reverberate through Lauren's bones. The blood drained from her face as she stared at Eugenie. She turned abruptly and took the stairs, two at a time with Eugenie behind her. When the girls burst into the boudoir, they found Madame thrashing and writhing on the bed, her eyes open and glazed. She was biting her swollen tongue and gasping for air through her clenched teeth. The girls watched in horror as the woman convulsed on the bed, rising and falling grotesquely. Suddenly Madame fell back onto the bed and sighed.

Lauren watched in disbelief, too horrified to move. Madame was not moving.

"Is she alright? What's wrong, Lauren?" cried Eugenie.

"Oh my God! Oh my God!” Lauren cried rushing to her side. She pressed her fingers to Madame's neck then frantically shook her. There was no response. Lauren backed away, tears filling her eyes. She shook her head. “I am too late. They have won. They have killed her."

Eugenie stared at the lifeless body of Josephine Aberjon. She backed out of the room and murmured, "I'll get Marianne."

Lauren slowly approached Madame once more. The woman was on her back with her mouth open and her hair plastered her face. She was as thin as a skeleton and an odd metallic odor emanated from her. Lauren had never seen anyone die. The nuns had grown old and sickened, but she had never witnessed their demise. It seemed to her as if Madame had simply shed her skin like a snake and passed on. Reaching over she gently closed her eyes. With a hankie, she wiped the drool from her lips remembering Madame Aberjon’s words. “If we could examine everyone’s problems like clothes hanging on a line, we would always choose our own problems back again.”

Lauren agreed with her. Rather than have Madame’s difficulties, she would indeed choose her own problems all over again.

Chapter 16

Lauren sat staring at the fire in her room. She could not sleep. This was her first experience preparing a body for burial and most disturbing. Lauren assisted Marianne washing and clothing Madame in her best gown, and they sprinkled her with holy water and lavender flowers. They moved her to the sitting room in the candlelight with her hands folded. Lauren left the room the instant their work was complete. She could not bear to be with the body and left Marianne to say the prayers.

Although it was not a cold night, Lauren shivered, pulling her shawl around her. She was certain now that Jean-Baptist and Claude had poisoned Madame, and she was not going to keep quiet. Even though these were powerful men, and she was a homeless girl from New Orleans, she was determined to expose them.

When dawn broke, she dressed and left the house heading for Fort de Chartres. Lauren knew little about the government here, but she
did
know that a lieutenant by the name of Antoine Brobriant was the supreme authority.

The fort was a half-day walk up the Mississippi, and it was the first time Lauren had ever visited the structure. It was not large, but it was certainly imposing perched on a hill keeping watch over the river. The fortress was made of upright logs set directly into the earth, and in the middle of the parade ground stood a stone powder magazine. Men in blue uniforms leered down at her from their posts as she pulled herself up the hill. Lauren jumped when one of them shouted, "What is your business here?"

She cleared her throat and called back, "I am here to see Lieutenant Brobriant."

The soldier looked at her suspiciously and then opened the gate leading her across the grounds to a building that looked like headquarters. After running his eyes over her, the man spit tobacco juice and barked, "Wait here!"

The ground beneath Lauren's feet was brown and dry, and the sun baked her skin. It was only morning and already the temperature soared. She could feel drops of perspiration run down her back as she tried to calm herself.

She waited for what seemed to be an eternity before the guard returned saying, "You may go in now."

The temperature dropped instantly as Lauren stepped inside the Lieutenant's office. It was cool and dark, and it took her eyes a minute to adjust to the low light.

"May I help you, Mademoiselle?"

Lauren blinked and discovered a gentleman lounging behind a large desk smoking a white clay pipe. He was a man of middle years wearing a powdered wig and a blue waistcoat. To fight the heat he had removed his jacket and was in his shirtsleeves.

"Mademoiselle?"

Lauren swallowed hard and asked, "If a crime has been committed in Kaskaskia, Monsieur, to whom do I report?"

"To me, I am the First Lieutenant of the King. What crime are you reporting?" he said, taking up his quill.

Lauren hesitated. She was afraid that he would respond like the doctor, but she must find the courage to try once more. If she remained silent then she would be as guilty as Jean-Baptist and Claude. Madame's lifeless body sprang into her mind, and she blurted out, "Murder."

"Murder!" the lieutenant exclaimed, sitting up straight. "Did you say murder?"

She nodded.

"Who has been murdered?"

"Josephine Aberjon, wife of Jean-Baptist Aberjon, owner of the Kaskaskia--"

"I know who he is," the lieutenant interrupted. "Who murdered her?"

Lauren felt as if she was going to gag, her throat was so dry. "Jean-Baptist and his son, Claude."

"What!"

"Yes Monsieur, I believe they poisoned her by putting something in her food--”

Lieutenant Briobriant put his hand up and said, "Govern your tongue, girl! Before you say anything more, I want you to realize the serious nature of your allegation. If you have any doubts, any doubts at all, I suggest you walk out that door and never return."

She hesitated a moment then murmured, "I have no doubts, Lieutenant."

He stood up and walked around his desk. His eyes narrowed as he scrutinized her. Lauren did not move as the lieutenant approached her. Like a rock, she stood her ground and boldly looked him in the eye.

"Who are you?"

"My name is Lauren Heathstone."

"Your family?"

"I have one sister in New Orleans."

"What is your business in Kaskaskia?"

"I was engaged as a companion to Josephine Aberjon."

He circled Lauren, looking her up and down.

"Really Mademoiselle--I want the truth! You have been slighted in love by one of Aberjon men and you are here to exact your pound of flesh."

"Lieutenant Brobriant," pleaded Lauren. "I am most sincere. Madame Aberjon overheard them plotting--it was all for money."

"Go home! You are nothing more than an adventuress, and I am a very busy man."

He sat down at his desk and took up his quill, dismissing her.

Lauren was mortified. This man had been her final hope. She must try once more. Suddenly without thinking, she grabbed the quill from his hand.

He looked up, thunderstruck by her audacity.

"Monsieur, if you do not listen to me I shall be forced to appeal to Father Peron. He will not stand by and let you ignore this crime.”

The Lieutenant’s eyes narrowed. He did not want that meddlesome priest involved. The Church looked for any excuse to undermine his authority.

Lauren continued, “I believe if you check the personal accounts of these men and the books at the Kaskaskia Lead Mine, you will find that Monsieur Aberjon and his son are in dire need of money; enough money to require a prosperous marriage. You will find that Jean-Baptist has been keeping company with a very wealthy woman who lives on Rue Saint Germaine.”

Lieutenant Brobriant wanted nothing more than to throw this brazen wench out on her ear, but he felt compelled to investigate further before she brought in that ambitious priest.

"Damn you!" he barked. "When did she die?"

"Last night."

"Of what nature was her decline and death?”

“She had severe cramping and the flux. She could keep no food down. It ended in a grotesque, uncontrollable spasm on the bed."

He rubbed the back of his neck and heaved a sigh. He was overworked and in no mood for schoolgirl fantasies. "I will be down shortly to talk to Monsieur Aberjon and his son. Say nothing of this to anyone."

Lauren's heart jumped.
Someone was listening to her at last!

*                *               *

Jean-Baptist looked up and down the hall before closing the door to the drawing room. He grabbed the brandy decanter from the cabinet and filled his glass to the brim, looking over at his son.

Claude was leaning on the harpsichord, with his head on his hand, carelessly plucking the keys of the instrument. In keeping with the latest fashion, he had placed a heart shaped patch at the corner of his mouth. His white face makeup was so thick; one could scrape it off with a fingernail.

"Well, what was so important, Father that you had to see me right away?"

"Lieutenant Briobriant was here to see me after the funeral yesterday. He wants to look at our books."

Claude chuckled. "Really Father, I had no idea you were such a worrier. You simply have no stomach for this. I know you loathe me, but you have to admit I was creative in solving our financial problems."

Jean-Baptist gulped his brandy and stared out the window sullenly. He felt surly today, and he would take great pleasure in pummeling his son's face right now. He hated partnering with him in this unseemly business, but it was inevitable, he was in dire need of money.  

"You were right about one thing, that wench from New Orleans became suspicious. But never mind, I have everything taken care of. Our man arrived this morning," said Claude.

Jean-Baptist whirled around. "He's here?"

"Definitely.”

"And the arsenic?"

"Where it should be."

"Good! Then it will be today," said Jean-Baptist feeling his spirits rise.

"I told you that I'd hold up my end of the bargain," said Claude, rising from his seat. "Now it's your turn. How soon can you wed?"

"Immediately, I don't give a damn what anybody in this town thinks. They'll have their murderer, that's all they want."

"Bravo, Father, bravo," cooed Claude. "Everything is going as planned."

Chapter 17

Late that afternoon Lauren returned to the Aberjon residence to retrieve the last of her belongings. Eugenie and Marianne were in the kitchen preparing supper when Lauren poked her head in and whispered, "Are they gone?"

"Yes, they are gone. Come in quickly," Marianne said.

"I must run up and get my things right away," Lauren whispered looking down the hall. "Have you heard them say anything about my visit to the lieutenant?"

"Nothing at all," whispered Eugenie, looking out the window. “But they spend a lot of time together in the drawing room with the door closed."

"Come and see me soon at the Lupone's," Lauren said hugging the women. The relationship between Lauren and Eugenie had improved slowly.

"You will be a married lady soon," said Eugenie.

"Not soon enough for me!" said Lauren as she inspected the hall on her way upstairs.

Once in her room, Lauren cleared out the wardrobe, threw some gowns over her arm and closed the bedroom door. She started down the hall, but when she passed Madame's room she hesitated. Furtively she turned the knob and opened the boudoir. Nothing had changed. The pink drapes still hung in folds onto the floor. The mauve rug was still in place and the rose-colored bed curtains were neatly tied back. Everything was as usual, but the bed was empty. The room was like a loyal dog waiting for its master to return.

Lauren felt a tightening in her chest. She spied Madame's dainty music box on the nightstand and picked it up turning it over in her hands. It seemed like only yesterday she was dancing right here in this room. She wound the box up and the delicate notes filled the room once more. Lauren could see herself gliding past the bed, sailing around the armchairs and soaring by the divan as Madame clapped her hands in delight.   

Suddenly loud voices interrupted her reverie. Noise was coming from the back of the house. Rushing to the back room, she threw the shutters open and leaned out. Two soldiers emerged from the slave quarters. One of them had Eugenie by the arm.

Lauren raced down the stairs as they were throwing Eugenie to the floor clamping an iron mask onto her head. Marianne was screaming and sobbing.