Decision and Destiny (40 page)

“Oh, what a stroke of wonderful, extraordinary, marvelous luck!”

“Woman, are you mad?” he enjoined angrily, searching her face for a sign her senses had returned. “I nearly lost my head to the executioner in there!”

“Robert, Robert, Robert,” she cajoled, taking his hand into her lap and patting it reassuringly. “Do you think I would have allowed that to happen? Quite the contrary. Things could not be better. You fail to see the benefits we stand to reap. You must learn how to find good fortune in a setback! Fortune, Robert,” she chortled again, “fortune! The truth is out. I’m certain our extortionist will be extremely disappointed. Poor man, he thought he had everything arranged so comfortably.” She pouted prettily for emphasis. When his laugh blended with relief, she went on. “What did you think of my acting? Was I convincing?”

“You practically had me crying, dear sister!” he laughed again, suddenly in awe of her ability to think under pressure, her stately beauty. “You should consider the theatre. It’s not too late, you know. Think of it—New York!”

“No, no, Robert. This production is far more profitable.”

“How do you suppose Frederic knew about Colette?”

“It doesn’t matter. If he had any more information, he would have challenged my story. Personally, I think he was bluffing.”

“Nevertheless, he’s suspicious of us.”

“And we admitted he had reason to be suspicious,” Agatha replied. “But now he views any unscrupulous tactics on our part as concern for his welfare. How can he fault us for that? No, Robert, we needn’t worry about Colette anymore. We have other matters to address.”

“John?”

“Yes, John.”

“Agatha, he is leaving Charmantes. Paul said as much when I spoke with him after the funeral.”

Agatha eyed Robert speculatively. She did not doubt his assertion, but leaving was quite different from expulsion, her good humor suddenly tainted.

“You are Frederic’s wife now,” he continued, “mistress of the manor—of Charmantes. What more do you want?”

“I want it all, Robert. I want the rightful heir named sole beneficiary to the Duvoisin holdings. Don’t tell me you won’t sleep more soundly knowing Frederic’s fortune will pass to Paul and Paul alone. As it stands now, John will cast us to the dogs the moment Frederic dies.”

Robert cringed, silently agreeing with his sister’s prediction, and whipped the mare into a brisk trot.

Charmaine didn’t cross paths with John, and found upon her return she hadn’t left the paddock but five minutes when he arrived home by way of the main road. She handed the reins to Gerald and headed toward the house.

John was not in the study, nor in the drawing room. As she returned to the foyer, she noticed the correspondence sitting on the table there. The letter crowning the odd assortment was addressed to her. It was from Loretta Harrington, and she quickly broke the seal and devoured its contents.

Dear Lord
, Charmaine groaned. She would have to answer Loretta tonight, scripting a letter that would erase the scurrilous image she had painted of John. She did not know how she would bring herself to write about Pierre’s death.

The hour was late. Charmaine had just finished her prayers and was getting into bed when a knock fell on her door. She pulled on her robe and opened it. John was standing there. “Were you asleep?” he asked.

“No, not yet,” she replied.

“I must speak with you for a moment, Charmaine,” he said, gesturing for her to come into the hallway.

She felt uneasy, knowing she wasn’t going to be happy with what he had to tell her. She followed him to his dressing room and stepped inside. He closed the door and leaned back against it. She turned to him, waiting for him to speak.

“I am leaving for Virginia before daybreak tomorrow.”

She drew a deep breath and closed her eyes. Didn’t she already know this was coming?
˜e girls will be devastated
.

“I have imposed upon your kindness already, Charmaine,” he continued, “but I hope you will do me another favor, and give Yvette and Jeannette my goodbye. I didn’t tell them myself because I cannot endure their pleading for me to stay. I do not want to refuse them.”

“Must you leave?” she whispered.

“Aside from my sisters, there is nothing left for me here. If I could, I would take all three of you with me, far away from this hell. But my father rejected that request a week ago, and he will be less inclined to allow it now.”

She was stunned and could see the bitterness smoldering in his eyes, aware of his thoughts. If he had been allowed to take them, Pierre would still be alive.

“Don’t tell them that,” he enjoined, reading her expression, his
voice dead serious. “They will hate him for it. I do not hold my father responsible for what happened, only myself. None of us would be suffering this misery if it weren’t for my terrible judgment four years ago.” The room fell silent until he spoke again. “So, will you tell the twins goodbye for me?”

“Yes, of course I will,” she ceded. “Will you come back?”

“I don’t know,” he replied. Then, seeing the despair in her eyes, he added, “In the spring, perhaps my father will change his mind and allow the girls to visit Virginia, once the turmoil has settled here.”

“They are going to be very upset with this,” she said. “They will miss you. And what of you? You will be all alone. You should not be alone right now.”

“I cannot stay. In Virginia and New York, I have work to occupy me, and I have friends there. I neglected much while I was here.” He sighed. “So, I will take a page from my brother’s book and keep busy.”

She nodded in resignation. Though she wanted to press him to change his mind, she knew he wanted to avoid an emotional scene. It would be cruel to attempt to sway him. She said instead, “I will miss you.”

He smiled for the first time, a hint of warmth reaching his eyes. “Well, then, at least one good thing came from my visit.” He opened the door. “I will miss you, too, my Charm.”

As she reached the doorway, she hesitated and looked up at him.

“Thank you,” he murmured.

She knew what he was doing could not be easy. She was compelled to comfort him, to convey some small measure of mercy and kindness before he set out to bear his crucible alone. She breached the short distance between them and encircled his waist with her arms. Closing her eyes, she pressed her cheek against his chest and listened to the steady beat of his heart. She took comfort from his arms closing around her shoulders, his chin atop her head.
“Goodbye, John,” she whispered, pulling him tighter to her, emotion now rising painfully high in her throat, “goodbye.” Then she pulled away and fled the room.

Sunday, October 15, 1837

The next morning, George greeted her and the twins at the chapel doorway. They were early for Mass and stood in the empty ballroom, smiling sadly as he walked toward them. He’d come to convey the news Charmaine already knew and had told the girls when they awoke: the
Falcon
had set sail at dawn, and John was aboard, heading back to Virginia.

“He left notes for you,” George said. “They’re on the table in the foyer.”

As the girls ran to retrieve them, Charmaine looked back at George. “I’m worried about him, George. He’ll be alone.”

“He wants to be alone, Charmaine,” George replied softly. He never thought he’d hear such concern for John from her. “He will be all right.”

The girls returned with their letters; one was for her. She ushered them through the vestibule and sank into the nearest pew as she opened and read the brief words penned in masculine scrawl.

Charmaine folded the letter and slipped it into her pocket. She looked up at the crucifix above the altar. The words in the note left her empty: very kind, friendly, detached.
And who will comfort you, John?
her mind screamed.

But she understood John’s departure in the same way she now understood why he had come home. The things that had drawn him to Charmantes no longer existed. Colette and Pierre were gone, and he was estranged from his father. And though she knew he cared deeply for the twins, they belonged to Frederic, not him. He no longer had a reason to stay.

She looked to the girls and read the disappointment in their blue eyes. They turned away in misery and slowly walked to their usual seats at the front of the chapel. Charmaine marveled over their fortitude; neither of them pressed the matter with the lamentations they had used before. Perhaps they knew they could never recapture those happy, carefree days before Pierre’s tragedy.

Charmaine resigned herself to that reality as well and began to pray she’d be able to accept it. There was nothing she could do. John’s decision had been made, and there was no turning the
Falcon
back now. It was time to move forward, to find comfort in the mundane and routine. They had done so before, they would have to do so again, difficult though it might be. But as she willed herself to look to the future, a terrible loneliness stole over her. It was as if she were losing Colette all over again, and for the first time, she realized John had swept that feeling of loneliness away the moment he had stepped into her life.

She was just about to rise when Frederic entered the chapel. She didn’t breathe as he limped past her and joined his daughters. She watched in wonder as Jeannette swiftly stood, hugged him, and coaxed him to sit first.

Agatha was equally surprised when she entered the sanctuary moments later. Charmaine heard the woman whisper, “Why didn’t you tell me you were attending Mass? I would have come down with
you,” but she couldn’t discern Frederic’s response. To Yvette’s displeasure, her stepmother sat next to her.

Charmaine remained exactly where she was, leaving without a word as soon as the Mass was over. She had no desire to converse with the master of the manor and knew the twins could find her in the nursery. She even avoided breakfast. But at lunch, Travis informed her Frederic wanted to see her privately in the study at one o’clock sharp.

She was stunned by the message. Why the study? Why the meeting in the first place? He’d had days to mull over what she knew. Had she become a liability, a shameful reminder of his terrible secret, just as she’d suggested to Rose? Would he dismiss her after all? Rose had assured her this would not happen. Still, she was upset.

At five minutes to one she left the girls in their room and made her way to the library. She was trembling as she knocked on the door.

“Come in.”

The room was unusually bright with both sets of French doors thrown open, sunbeams splashing onto the large desk and across the carpet. Frederic was seated at the secretary, papers strewn over it, stacks of ledgers piled on the floor nearby.

“How are you, Miss Ryan?” he asked, motioning for her to sit down.

“I am well, sir,” she lied, unable to read his intent from the polite opening. “You wished to speak to me?”

“Yes. I won’t detain you for long. I wanted to let you know I am making some changes in my daughters’ schedule.”

Charmaine gulped back her dread.
Here it comes.

“From now on, they will spend their Saturdays with me. They are to be dressed and in the dining room at nine o’clock this coming Saturday morning. They will be in my company for the whole of the day, so from nine in the morning until seven in the evening, you are released of your duties.”

“Released of my duties?” she repeated, confused, noting only the word “released.”
Is he dismissing me?

“You are free to spend your Saturdays as you wish. I will only infringe upon that freedom on those days I am indisposed or otherwise occupied. Is this satisfactory to you?”

Charmaine paused, unsteady. “It is not a matter of what is satisfactory to me, sir, but to respect your wishes regarding your daughters.”

“Miss Ryan,” Frederic smiled, “I am giving you a day off each week. Your wages will not be affected, as I will expect you to be able to change your Saturday plans if you are needed. Is this not satisfactory?”

“It is quite satisfactory, sir.”

“Good. Then you will have my daughters ready at nine o’clock six days hence. That is all, Miss Ryan. You may return to the twins.”

Charmaine let out a great sigh of relief as she closed the study door behind her. Not dismissed! More important, Frederic had acted as if nothing had happened between them. She was immensely grateful.

Yvette was not happy with the news, decrying this latest turn of events. “He’s just trying to copy Johnny! He’ll never be like Johnny! Now our Saturdays are ruined!”

Charmaine looked at Jeannette, who remained ever so quiet, then back to Yvette. “Perhaps your father wants to make time for you both while he’s still able. Even if he is imitating John, is that such a bad thing?”

Yvette pondered Charmaine’s reasoning, then flung herself into a chair. “But what are we going to do with him all day?”

“Why don’t you start thinking of some ideas? I’m certain your father will appreciate the help.”

The girls took up her suggestion, leaving Charmaine to wonder
just how Frederic would execute the grand plans they had already conjured: picnics, excursions into town, ship rides, and lawn games. He had barely left his chambers in four years. Would he really be out and about with two nine-year-olds? Charmaine shook her head and laughed in spite of herself. What other changes would they face in the coming days?