Bal Masque (32 page)

Armand needn’t have worried. Marie met them at the door, almost as if she’d sensed their coming. Though appalled at the state Lucienne was in, she gathered the girl into her arms and led her upstairs to a waiting room.

“I’ve been ready for you these three days
, p’tite
, and it’s good that you are here. I couldn’t endure the waiting much longer.”

Lucienne let her old companion undress her and wash her face and hands as if she were a child of three. The plate put before her steamed with food, and the girl ate it gladly, though she didn’t have any idea what it was she ate. She remembered sinking into a bed, soft and welcoming, a black kitten curled against her, and fine sheets drawn up over her. Sleep almost as deep as unconsciousness claimed her.

Late in the day, a ray of sinking sun woke her. Lucienne stirred, pulled at her cover, and tried to recapture the bliss that had been hers moments earlier. Some magical dream had filled her with a strange joy. She felt reluctant to leave its misty comfort.

“No, Lucienne, it’s time you rejoined the world.”

The voice came from a long way off, but its imperative tone reached her. “Grandmère?” Lucienne rubbed her eyes and sat up. “Grandmère, how can you be here?”

“I came to see for myself that you were back safely.” The slight figure in its deep wine dress came into her line of sight. “You’re back and you’re safe, but your condition otherwise is not worthy of note.”

“My condition, Grandmère?” She stretched, catlike, relishing the feel of fresh linens and a feather mattress. “I feel wonderful.”

Madame Thierry shook her head. “Freckles, Lucienne? And your hands look as if you’ve been digging potatoes. Marie despairs of your hair ever coming clean, not in time for dinner with your husband this evening, at any rate.”

Lucienne sat up. “Armand? Is he here?”

“Here? Yes, of course. He’s been home some time. He left word that he’d like for you to have dinner with him, if you’re up to it. I should hope you see the need to do so. You’ve led the man a merry dance. What have you been up to, Chou-Chou?”

Grandmère was fishing for information, Lucienne told herself. Armand hadn’t answered all her questions or given a detailed account of the last few days to the old lady’s satisfaction. Lucienne didn’t intend to do so, either. She had other plans and a dinner dress to select. Grandmère would have to wait.

Though the hair might not have been the perfection Marie wanted, Lucienne saw a vast improvement in her mirror. Washed three times and brushed to a high sheen, the long curls lay softly over her shoulders. A dusting of rice powder covered the worst of her freckles, though her nose still was too pink for fashion. The tub in the corner bore witness that Lucienne had had her greatest desire met. The hour-long soak in unending hot water with scented soap and lotion had eased the last of the travel grime from her skin. She felt renewed.

“What dress will it be, then
, chèrie
? I had them all pressed so you could have your choice.” Marie held open the wardrobe to show a parade of colors.

“The violet one. I’ve never even worn it.”

“The perfect choice, Lucienne,” her grandmother agreed. “The long sleeves and pelerine will cover a multitude of flaws. Freckles, bruises, that dreadful scrape on your arm. But your hands,
chèrie
, those will take a season of care. Be sure to wear your mitts every minute till they heal.”

The sheer silk framed her shoulders with wide puffed sleeves, and the tight bodice revealed Lucienne’s slight figure had lost none of its fashionable lines during her time away.

“M’sieu Armand said you might like to wear these at last.” Marie held out a long box with a cascade of pearls gleaming against folds of black velvet.

“The Dupre pearls! Armand had them repaired!” Lucienne held them to her cheek, loving their warm touch against her skin. “I never thought I’d see them again.” Marie took the strand and wound the shining pink orbs through Lucienne’s black curls. “What do you think, Grandmère? Am I beautiful?”

“You’re lovely, and I’m going home,” her grandmother announced as Lucienne turned before her. “Your cousin Pierrette is with me, and she’s eaten alive by curiosity by now.”

“You and Pierrette are staying in town?” Lucienne was surprised. She had assumed her grandmother would soon return to Mille Fleur to maintain the fiction she and Armand had created to cover Lucienne’s disappearance.

“Pierrette is not a good conspirator, Lucienne. Remember that, the next time you lure her into your schemes. I brought her here with me to keep her from telling things she shouldn’t. Actually I bribed her. She’ll spend the season in town with me.”

“And have a far better time for it,” Lucienne agreed, flitting her fan and spinning before the mirror. “Tell her I’ll see her soon.”

“Not for a few days yet, Chou-Chou. My nerves won’t bear it. The two of you will be into some new scrape. Now
, au revoir
,
chèrie.
I’m off.” Grandmère kissed her. “I hope things turn out well for you, Chou-Chou. He’s a better man than most, that husband of yours. See if you can convince him to keep you. If not, or you can’t swallow your pride enough to ask, you know my door is open. We can withstand any gossip about your adventures if this escapade becomes public. You and I might have some very good times together.” Her silken skirts whispered through the door. Lucienne cast a longing glance after her grandmother.
Wouldn’t it be easier just to go home with Grandmère?

“Don’t think of running back to her,” Marie scolded when the old lady was well out of the house. “Your place is here with M’sieu Armand. You’ve put him to no small amount of trouble.” Lucienne watched out the long window as her grandmother’s carriage rolled away. Then, drawing in a breath and squaring her shoulders, she turned back to face Marie.

“I gave myself quite a bad time, as well.” She picked up a spray of white rosebuds and, holding them against the shoulder of her gown, posed in front of the mirror. “But it had its compensations.” She studied the reflection. Then Lucienne laughed. She knew what she must do, and running off to Grandmère’s home had no part in it. “Have you ever been kissed by a man, Marie?”

Chapter Twenty-One:

Behind the Final Mask

Lucienne paused on the staircase to look down at the figure below. He’d exchanged the doeskin shirt for a well-tailored black coat. A dandy’s fine broadcloth and linen had replaced the rougher frontier garb. The elegant gentleman in the gallery shadows had little in common with the adventurer who brought her back from the swamp. He turned as she sashayed down.

She stopped as she came to the last step. “Pardon, m’sieu. I mistook you for someone else.”

“Indeed, madame? If you described this person, perhaps I could help find him.”

“Oh, like you, he is very handsome and tall, but not so well dressed.”

“And what would you do with this poor man if you found him, madame? Lure him into danger, toy with his affections, perhaps find a thousand ways to tangle up his life?” Before she could answer, Armand drew her arm through his. “Let’s go into the garden. Perhaps we will find him there.”

Armand led her through tall louvered doors into an enclosed courtyard. Buds just opening to the fullness of spring perfumed the air. A cascade of clear yellow covered one stone wall. Lucienne recognized the tiny flowers—forsythia. They made a perfect background for the small table placed between two ornamental trees. Crisp linen and table settings of crystal and silver gleamed in the fading light.

“We’ve dined so often in the open, Chou-Chou, that I couldn’t bear to think of dinner inside.”

Lucienne drew a long breath, inhaling a sweet fragrance that carried no hint of the cloying swamp. “It’s a far more civilized setting than the last dinner we shared.” She sat carefully in the delicate chair he held, spreading her violet skirts and snapping open her fan.

“Now about this man you were looking for, Chou-Chou. He seems to be very careless. What kind of man would leave such a lovely woman alone?”

Lucienne looked up through her dark fringe of lashes. “That is the thing about this man, m’sieu. He’s unreliable. You never know where he’ll be. He’s here, he’s there. He comes and goes. Just when you think he’s nowhere around, he appears. He’s unpredictable but very persistent.”

“Like a troublesome gnat. But handsome, you said?”

Lucienne fluttered her fan and lowered her look. “Oh, most definitely. Handsome in a way that makes all other men look insipid. And he has another talent, m’sieu. Would you like to know?”

Armand held up both hands to stop her words. “I think not. It’s bad form to praise one man to another in such glowing terms, you know? We gentlemen have fragile egos and are easily stirred to jealousy, madame.”

Lucienne tapped his hand with her fan. “None of that, m’sieu. I won’t have unseemly displays of jealousy. Perhaps we should discuss something else.”

“Yes, perhaps we should.” Armand moved his chair closer. “Did I mention how very lovely you look tonight? That color suits you, and the pearls in your hair are perfection.”

“A gift from an admirer, the one we agreed not to mention.”

Armand lifted her hand to his lips, then held it in both of his own. He stroked the sheer lace that covered the palm roughened by her labors of the last weeks. His fingers encountered the wide gold band beneath the lace. “Another gift from an admirer,
chèrie
?”

“Oh, m’sieu, you’ve found me out. Though I masquerade as a mere
jeune fille
, a girl just recently out in society, in fact I’m a married woman.”

The intensity of his look brought the blood to Lucienne’s head. She felt the heat rush to her cheeks. “A married woman? Married but planning to slip away from the bonds of a union not to your liking, perhaps?”

Lucienne shook back the curls that had fallen forward and looked into his eyes, eyes that challenged her to answer. “No, m’sieu, the union suits me very well. My husband is very wise. He knows how I chafe at pointless restrictions. He has told me I never have to abide by the silly rules that society decrees. The outlandish things I say don’t distress him.” She flipped her fan open so that only her eyes were above its lacy edge. “He’s not even scolded me for running away from him like an idiot after our wedding, though I think now I was tempting fate.” Lucienne dropped to an entreating tone. “Why would I leave such a man, only to go home to my parents or to my grandmère and create gossip?”

With arms crossed, Armand frowned at her. “You make him sound a paragon, madame, but you’re very young. You could be misled. Perhaps he’s only a tedious ninny who has managed to deceive you with a beguiling mask.”

“No, no, no, m’sieu.” Lucienne snapped her fan closed. “It is the face of the tedious ninny that is the mask. I have learned to see past the disguise he wears in public so no one will know him for the gallant adventurer he is. It was the true man, the dashing champion in leather, who won my heart.”

Armand shook a finger at her. “We seem to be talking about that man again. You’re determined to wound me by praising his exploits.” He leaned back and sighed in resignation. “Is there anything more you must say, or have you told me all?”

Lucienne fluttered her eyelashes and managed a faint blush. “Just one other thing, m’sieu. A small thing, but most important to a woman.”

Armand sighed again, as if he could scarcely tolerate her praise of this “other man.” “Very well, tell me this one more thing.”

“Ah, it isn’t something to be discussed in the normal course of things, but the fact is the man has a wonderful way with ladies.” She let a small chuckle escape. “And he kisses so very well.”

Gratified at the flush now rising in Armand’s cheeks, Lucienne sat back in her chair.

“Lucienne, you’re a vixen! And an incorrigible flirt.” Laughing softly, he cupped her chin in the palm of his hand. “Are you really saying you’ll stay here with me as my wife? You won’t be running from me again? Not to your parents or the convent or off into the swamp?”

“Armand, I only
thought
I was running from you. It wasn’t you, really. I was running because my life wasn’t my own. All the choices had been taken out of my hands. And no one asked what I wanted. So I ran away from that, not to Philippe. I fooled myself when I thought I cared for him. I ran not to something I wanted but away from something I didn’t. I understand that now, and I think you do as well.”

“Yes, I told you back in the bayou that only you would chose the future. Think carefully before you say what you want, Chou-Chou.”

“I have been thinking, and I still can’t say exactly what I want, but I know I
don’t
want to spend my life counting sheets and barrels of flour, re-arranging a dinner planned for four that must unexpectedly accommodate my husband’s additional six guests. When I ask a question, I want an answer. I don’t want to be told that such things aren’t suitable for women to know. I want to live without the mask that propriety says I have to wear, or at least not wear it inside the walls of my own home.” She fiddled with her fan, more nervous than she wanted to admit. “I know you didn’t have much choice in this marriage, Armand. Not once our papas decided we would do it. But you’ve been very gallant, even though I put you in a terrible position.”

Armand drew her up to stand beside him, his arms a safe haven around her. “Your description of what life offered you doesn’t appeal to me either,
p’tite
. I might well run away at the prospect of counting sheets and flour barrels forever.” His lips brushed her hair. “But let me tell you this,
chèrie.
While this union may have been the result of our families’ agreement, it was at my instigation. I insisted that my father consult with yours.”

“Armand, there’s no need…” Lucienne began.

He put a gentle finger over her lips, stopping her words. “There is every need, Chou-Chou. I must disabuse you of this notion that I would have married anywhere that profited the family. I’ve seen all the simpering belles and pretty fools I care to endure.” His look seemed to search her heart. “In you I saw not just your beautiful face. I saw spirit and courage. I heard curiosity and wit whenever we could speak plainly, away from censorious ears. Your eyes saw everything; you remembered what they saw.” Surprise and a sense of disbelief left her without an answer. Armand raised a rueful eyebrow. “Of course, our marriage was good for both families, but I would have convinced my father to approach yours regardless. And I did not lie when I said I hoped the mask you wore at our wedding was the last one you’d ever wear with me. Whatever society expects, it has nothing to do with us.”