Pride of the King, The (9 page)

Lauren's thoughts were frequently with Simone, and she longed to see her sister again. Many nights she shed tears of loneliness for her twin, struggling to understand why Simone would want to remain buried at the convent when there was a wide world to explore.

Rene felt as if he knew Simone, Lauren spoke of her so often. He promised to take her to the convent before they left for Paris, and it eased Lauren’s mind to know she would see Simone once more.

A year passing also meant another convoy journeyed to New Orleans. For months, the wives and mothers felt the strain of waiting and worrying, but today they could put their fears to rest. The convoy was downriver and had returned safe and complete, every bateaux in attendance. The whole town rejoiced and turned out to greet the men.

"Are you going down to meet the convoy?" asked Madame the afternoon of the arrival.

She sat in her favorite pink armchair twisting a lace handkerchief anxiously.

"No, I have no one to welcome," Lauren replied tucking in the sheets and shaking out the pink bed curtains.

Josephine Aberjon reached over to her nightstand, opened a drawer and pulled out a letter, "Well I do. This is from my son. He is returning home from his studies in Paris, and he will be with the convoy. I need someone to meet him at the docks and escort him home."

Lauren straightened up staring at Madame with surprise, "I didn't know your son was coming home. Why didn't you tell me?"

Madame looked down and said, "My son is not a topic we discuss in this house. Jean-Baptist and Claude do not see eye to eye. They never have, and I did not want Jean Baptiste to know of his return until the last minute."

"I see," said Lauren as she continued to arrange the bed, "You would like me to go now?"

"Yes, please, dear. Go to the stable and talk to Toussaint. He will get the carriage ready for you."

Lauren went down to the kitchen, took off her apron and put on her straw hat. Marianne looked up from her cooking and said, "Madame is sending you out?”

"Yes, I am to pick up her son from the convoy. He has returned from Paris."

The old woman's jaw dropped. "
He
has returned. Mon Dieu!"

"Why has no one told me about him?" asked Lauren.

"He is not worth talking about," said Marianne, shaking her head. "He is bad for this family. He is bad for us all."

Lauren stood staring at Marianne, unable to comprehend what she was saying.

"You better go quickly. He won't want to be kept waiting," the woman warned.

Toussaint drove the carriage down to the docks, and reluctantly Lauren stepped out into the afternoon sun. It was a lovely autumn day, but she did not notice the colorful leaves or the fresh crispness to the air. The noise and confusion of the docks bombarded her instead. Men loaded barrels onto carts, tearful wives embraced their husbands, children darted in and out playing tag and slaves laboriously unloaded the bateaux. There was shouting and crying, and the noise was deafening. Lauren wrapped her cloak around herself as if it would protect her from harm and stood by Toussaint, trying to stay out of the way.

"Do you know what he looks like?" she shouted to the old man.

The slave nodded. He remembered Claude Aberjon too well. He could never forget his face.

"I'm right here, Toussaint."

Toussaint turned around, and there stood a tall, thin pimply-faced young man with a cane. When Lauren turned around, his eyebrows shot up. "Well, I see father has refined his tastes."

"I am Madame Heathstone," said Lauren. "I am your mother’s companion. She has asked me to meet you."

With a sarcastic sweep of the arm, Claude Aberjon indicated that Lauren should step into the carriage first. He climbed in after her. Toussaint climbed onto the driver’s seat and snapped the reins, sending the carriage off with a jerk.

Claude sat back and ran his eyes over Lauren's figure saying with a smirk, "Spare me the pretense. You take care of my father, not my mother."

"No," explained Lauren, not understanding his insinuation. "It is your mother who needs the help. Her fits are growing more frequent. She has increased to ten outbursts a day."

Claude studied her for a moment. He could see that she was telling the truth and that his mother's condition had indeed grown worse. He closed his eyes and dropped back onto the seat, moaning. "Oh God, I come home to this. I suppose she will expect me to dance attendance on her, visit her day and night, take my meals with her, play cards with her--and the dogs! Oh, my God the dogs. How tedious," he whined.

There was a moment of silence, then suddenly he leaned forward and said, "But you will be a welcome diversion."

Lauren looked confused. She was unsure how to take this comment, but she did not like his tone. No one had ever talked to her like this before, and she did not know how to respond.

When they returned to the house, Madame was having one of her fits. Lauren ran up the stairs and Claude chuckled, throwing his hat and cloak onto a chair in the drawing room. "Well, well it’s good to be home," he said to himself as he opened the liquor cabinet. His eyes ran across the bottles of liquor and Madeira, and he picked up a crystal glass.

"What the hell are you doing here?” snarled Monsieur Aberjon coming up behind him, grabbing the glass from his hand. "I told you to stay in Paris."

"And I told
you
that I was out of money," returned the young man. "That paltry allowance was not enough."

"You wasted your time coming back here. I told you, I have nothing more to give you. There are no gaming tables in Kaskaskia, so you might as well return to New Orleans." Jean-Baptist yanked the brandy decanter out of the other hand and put the bottle and glass back in the cabinet.

Claude hated his father. His coarse demeanor and drooping eyelid repulsed him. He sat down flinging his leg over the arm of a chair and began arranging the lace at his wrists. "If you wanted me to stay in school you should have sent more money, Father."

"I cannot afford schooling for you any longer. You'll have to work like everyone else."

"Work! Where? At the lead mine like you?" Claude said with a smirk.

Jean Baptist stepped forward and grabbed his son's throat with one hand. "That
lead mine
fed, clothed and kept you in the lap of luxury for twenty one years. You will show some respect."

Claude's eyes grew large as he looked into Jean-Baptist's face. He had dropped his guard and showed his father exactly how much he scorned him.
That mistake must not be made again.
He realized the facade of respect must not drop if he wanted anything out of the old man.

Monsieur Aberjon withdrew his hand and turned away. His chest was heaving as he straightened his waistcoat. "I'll find something for you to do at the mines. Don't think you can lie around here. You’ll start tomorrow.”

Claude said nothing and stood up, walking to the window. He detested his father. He detested everything about his pedestrian life and his working class demeanor, but he must placate him for a while.
I’ll do what the old man wishes until I can get some money again
. Claude looked outside. He saw Lauren taking some rugs off a line and asked, "Is she yours, Father?"

"What?" said Jean Baptist walking over and looking out the window.

"No, she is your mother's companion."

"So I am free to amuse myself?" Claude said.

His father shrugged his shoulders and walked out of the room. Claude could hear him say as he passed into the hall, "I don't give damn what you do. Just stay away from me.”

Josephine Aberjon was delighted with her son's return. Even though the visits to her room were few, they sustained her for hours. From the moment Claude was born she doted on the boy, showering him with toys and gifts, deferring to his every whim, giving him the distinct impression that the world revolved around only him. Not until adulthood, when Claude began to make financial demands on his father, did the trouble begin. First, there were the failing grades at the academy in Paris, then there was the drinking and gaming, but what dominated Claude's attention the most was women. His taste in courtesans was expensive so in no time the boy began to drain the financial resources of the family.

Josephine brought a substantial amount of money into the marriage and those funds were the first to go. Initially, Jean-Baptiste was willing to indulge the boy's whims, being grateful he was an ocean away, but as time went by it became apparent that Claude was depleting every resource.

The young man was furious that he had to work. Claude had never lifted a finger to support himself his whole life, and suddenly he had to sit in the stuffy office of the family lead mine and scratch numbers into a moldy ledger all day. He thought the work of merchants was beneath him, and he detested his father for being too inadequate to support him properly. All day he would wait for the sun to set so he could slam the office door behind him and ride to the alehouses by the docks. There he found enough drink to sustain him and enough women to satisfy him, at least for a while.

Lauren was grateful Claude was gone all day until late every night. She had seen little of him since his return four months ago, but she locked her bedroom door every night without fail. Lauren did not speak of Claude to Rene She knew that he would worry and insist upon marrying her immediately, but a wedding in Kaskaskia during the Lenten season was taboo, and she needed time to make preparations.

The couple continued to meet several times a week even though it was the middle of winter. Rene found a small, abandoned cottage off the Cahokia road which the two cleaned up and set as their trysting place. There were holes in the roof that they patched, and it was small, but with a fire the structure kept the lovers warm and dry.

"I think that we should talk to father," said Rene one cold March afternoon as he stoked the fire. "I think that it's time to tell him that we are going to marry."

Lauren bit her lip. She liked and respected Gabriel, but she feared his temper.

"What will he say about us leaving Kaskaskia?"

"Neither one of them will like it, but we must make our way together in the world."

The fire snapped and popped as Lauren sat hugging her knees her long auburn hair falling over her shoulders. She turned to him suddenly and said, "We shall be gypsies you and I, Rene. No place will hold us. I love Kaskaskia, but I ache for something else. It's not--well, it’s not home."

Rene didn't hear a word Lauren said. He had stood up and was looking outside through a crack in the wall. "I heard something. Who would be down here this late in the day? It's almost nightfall.”

"Never mind, Rene, your father would never find us here."

He sighed and sat back down. "You're right.
You
are what I should be worrying about," and he pushed her down on the deer skin. "Now where were we?" he said and began to kiss her.

Chapter 12

The ox struggled as Gabriel reached deep into the animals mouth. Rene held the animal, but given the size of the beast and the pouring rain it was an impossible task restraining the brute. “I can’t feel anything. I don’t know why he is choking,” Gabriel said.

Rene loosened his grip on the massive animal as his father removed his hand from the ox’s mouth. “Are we done now, Father?” Rene asked anxiously.

“Why? Where are you going?”

“Oh, I told Jean Paul I would help him with the shearing,” Rene lied.

Gabriel dismissed him with a wave of his hand and went back to his work. He had known for a long time that Rene and Lauren had been meeting on a regular basis. Although he knew they were not a good match, he wanted a marriage before Lauren was compromised.

A few days later, the couple came and asked Anne and Gabriel for their blessing, informing them that they would be leaving Kaskaskia after they were married. The Lupones were not happy about their plans but said nothing.

Lauren had not found the courage to tell Madame Aberjon about her wedding. The matron did not do well with change, and this news would surely send her into frenzy. She continued to wake Lauren at all hours of the night, screaming and crying, calling for Jean-Baptiste or Claude. She always ended face down on the bed sobbing hysterically.

One night after a particularly difficult episode, when Lauren was leaving Madame’s room, someone grabbed her from behind knocking the candle to the floor, pinning her against the wall. "You'll like what I have for you," said Claude as he pressed himself against her breasts.

The candle extinguished when it hit the floor, and the hall was dark. Lauren's heart was pounding as she struggled to free herself. "Let go of me," she demanded trying to push him away.

In spite of his drunkenness, Claude was stronger than Lauren and began to pull up her shift. "Calm down. You'll be grateful in a moment," he said hoarsely.

Suddenly, there was a crash, and Madame screamed. Lauren freed herself dashing into the boudoir. There on the floor by the light of the fire was Madame reaching for the nightstand about to pull it over. Claude stopped at the threshold, weaving back and forth.