Authors: Marie Lavender
It was morning when she woke. She felt sore everywhere and pain was ever present. It was as if somehow in childbirth, her body had been broken. Moaning, she tried to move, but a vise of some kind encased her. She opened her eyes. A man leaned over her, too close for comfort. She was half naked. She stiffened, and then opened her mouth to scream.
Seeing the alarm on her face, he squeezed her hand. “There, there,
Mademoiselle
. Do not be concerned. I am Dr. Larousse. I came by the request of your aunt. I was examining you.”
Embarrassed by her reaction and his proposal, she nodded. It was better to let the man do what he came for, however humiliating. After checking the stitches and pressing around her belly to gauge if there might be an infection, he readjusted her nightgown and stepped back. “You are a healthy young woman and I am impressed by the work of your aunt and nursemaid. It seems to be a clean wound and I find no signs of too much swelling or internal bleeding. You should feel very lucky,
Mademoiselle
Bellamont. In most instances where a physician or a midwife is not present, the mother or child does not survive.”
His comment made her remember. “Where is my child?”
“Sleeping most likely. They do that. I am told
Madame
Devereux is caring for the babe. I will take my leave now. I came to be sure things were done properly.” He bowed and left the room.
She thanked him as he turned away and then saw her aunt in the doorway after he'd left. “
Tante
.”
Her aunt reached her side in no time. “
Chère
, I feared you would sleep forever. It seems everything checked out with the doctor.”
She nodded. “Where is…”
“I'm having Francoise bring him along.”
“He? I have a son?” At her aunt's swift nod and answering smile, her heart did flips. She felt happier than she had in a long time. Grant would be glad to hear they had produced a boy. She only wished he could be here to witness it.
Francoise brought a small figure wrapped in a blanket into the room. She set the babe in Fara's arms and took her leave, bowing out of the room.
Lina watched Fara pull the blanket back just enough to have a look at her son. “After we cleaned everything up, we gave the child a bath. He was covered with blood. I'm sure he appreciates being clean. I sure do.”
“You did not have to do so much for me and my son.” She held the babe against her chest, loving his small form. Her fingers could not resist touching him.
Lina smiled. “My heart would not have let me do otherwise.”
Fara's eyes stung with the prospect of unshed tears. For the first time since she'd left her uncle's care, she was loved. It felt very nice and she was grateful that her son had been born into that love. “I am indebted to you,
Tante
.”
“Never. You owe me nothing more than your presence in this house. I gave you security, Fara. It wasn't an obligation to love you as my niece. I just did it.”
“Thank you then.”
“If you're speaking of your child's birth, you're welcome. You did all the work, I just nudged you along.”
“Then I'm grateful for the nudge.”
“But, I understand. If I was to have a child, I would certainly wish the father to be there.”
Fara tried to smile. “Yes, I've been thinking it will never be the same again.”
“It may never be, but you will survive. Besides, we both have a boy to look after now. I think we have a ride ahead of us,
chère
.”
She laughed in agreement. “What do you think of Gabriel?”
“I think it's a nice, strong name. Nice and strong like his father,
oui
?”
“Hmm…like his father.” Already she had noticed the child had been born with eyes of an intense gray. Grant's eyes. She wondered if that would change.
“Isn't he beautiful?” her aunt asked, eyes alight with pride.
Fara held the babe gently against her breast and looked down at him, smoothing her lips over his soft temple and over the light smattering of flame red hair. “He is very beautiful,” she agreed. Like his father, she added silently.
Chapter Sixteen
May 26, 1868
Fara smiled as she looked out the window to see Gabriel playing beside Pierre as he exercised the horses. Though she occasionally drew herself away from her household duties to keep an eye on him, she was certain Pierre would keep her son out of harm's way. Perhaps it was his job to look after his young master, yet she felt that Pierre looked after Gabe whilst he was away from his mother's care as he might if he had children himself. She needn't worry when there were faithful workers about.
Sometimes, however, an inkling of fear lingered at the back of her mind that Gabriel's adventurous spirit, so like his father's, would get him into trouble. He was a boy, she chided herself often
.
Boys were simply prone to curiosity.
Over the years, her own restless spirit had tamed itself. Though she often wanted to explore the world outside her existence, motherhood and social functions kept her busy. She rarely had a chance to spare a thought for what might have been. With afternoon teas, the bi-weekly trips to the market, the dinner parties her aunt received invitations to attend, or Gabriel's flights of fancy of which he could not wait to tell her, she barely had an opportunity to reflect on the past.
Fara shook her head, clucking her tongue softly as she remembered the night of the annual ball she'd attended almost five years before. What a fool she had been then, so naïve. So trusting. Though she had both cursed his name and loved him at once, she still did not know if Grant had felt anything for her besides desire. At times, he truly seemed the gentleman. Diversely, he could not seem to control his need of her during other moments.
She knew, though, she had been just as guilty. Though she'd known nothing about passion or love at the time, she had never refused the offer of pleasure his body gave to hers. But, she had been very naïve. Unaware that what he gave in the flesh could only lead to a deeper kind of emotion, she'd succumbed to him.
Fara frowned. Had she not begun to feel something new and different from the moment he'd saved her from being mauled? Yes, she could admit that now. Her heart had crumbled, tearing at her chest more than a thousand times it seemed since he'd left four years ago. She had Gabriel now though. That was all that mattered.
There were still nights when the threat of wrenching emotion would not allow her to rest. In those moments, she allowed herself to remember Grant. The way he'd stand on the deck of
La Voyageur
as if he'd been born to stand in that very spot. The times they'd laughed or fought or made love. She couldn't count the many times she wanted to hate him for leaving. And she could not deny that her heart betrayed her. While loathing the situation he'd left her in, she respected him for protecting her in a way, for leaving her in the care of family and providing funds for her security, instead of true abandonment.
There were times when she allowed herself to think these thoughts. There were times when she couldn't help but wonder if he'd made it, if he had reached the place he needed to find to be free and safe. She wondered if he had forgotten her. There were also times when that fleeting thought would cross her mind and she wondered if he was still alive, if perhaps he had perished in the sea long ago, the way his presence had. If that was true, surely she would know, right? She couldn't be for certain. At the notion that he might be dead, a desolate ache would grip her and after her tears had subsided, she felt more alone than ever, not knowing if his feelings for her ran as deep as hers for him.
Though she missed him with an ache time could not erase, she knew her life was now here, with Gabriel and Lina. Her son's needs were of more importance than her occasional bouts of loneliness and grief. Being a mother was the focus of her life and nothing could replace that.
* * * *
Fara often still found herself restless at night. Though sleep claimed her through exhaustion, memories would torment her in her dreams. Some nights, she would quietly pace the hallways so as not to wake the servants or her family. At times, she would even walk through the gardens whilst aware of the dangers of doing so. She knew how dangerous the night could be; Grant had made that clear enough. Evils seemed to lurk in the town after the sun went down. Resistant as she had always been to some rules, she still left the house at night, but refrained from going into town alone as she had after she met Grant.
One night after visiting the gardens, she returned to her bedchamber. Once inside, she removed her dressing sacque and slipped under the covers. Her thoughts slowly wandering away, she blinked a few moments and then closed her eyes. It seemed like minutes passed and she drifted off to sleep.
The cry came from within the house, reverberating off her walls as she sat up, shaking away the remnants of sleep. “Gabe,” she whispered. Hard on the word, she flung the covers back and slid from the mattress, heedless of the thin gown she wore or the way she only treaded on the pads of her bare feet as she exited her room and proceeded down the hall to her son's chamber.
He was a boy, just a boy, she thought as she opened the door to take in the sight of the child lying in his bed, obviously awoken by the sounds of the night. He was sniffling, struggling with his tears, which lay like tracks of water down his cheeks. Her heart clenched on the thought that he tried to be strong. He tried to be a man, like his father. “Gabriel?” she asked softly so as not to startle him.
He looked up, turned his head and reached out to his mother. “
Maman
,” he wailed through his tears.
She went to him then, propping her shoulders against the headboard as she reached to drag him against her on the mattress. She murmured soft assurances and caressed his neck, shoulders and back before his cries quieted to a sporadic hiccup. “What is it, my love? A nightmare?”
“A horse…”
“A horse? Tell me about this horse that frightened you.”
“Oh,
Maman
. He was big and black and…he wasn't very happy with me!”
It was a serious matter to him, she could tell. “I'm sure you did nothing to this horse. He was having a bad day, perhaps?”
“
Maman
, listen to me…”
She proceeded to oblige him for it would calm his fears enough to allow him rest. When she discovered that in his dream he'd only tied the horse to a tree to keep it from running off, she told him it was normal to treat horses as such and the horse had no reason to be angry.
When he'd accepted her words, she kissed his forehead, still reveling in the way his small boy's body fit to hers as she held him. God, but he was getting big. He was Grant's son in every way, she then realized, for she was delicate and her growth rate had been slower. Gabriel would one day be a man, just as tall and strong and even as striking as his father. He was already quite an attractive child. But, of course, she was biased as a mother should be.
“
Maman
?”
“
Oui
, my love?”
“Where is
papére
?”
She swallowed tightly. It had been inevitable. She'd always known Gabriel would observe the other children and their fathers and wonder where his went. He was a smart boy. “Why do you want to know, Gabriel?”
“You love me and there's
Tante
Lina. She loves me…”
“
Oui
?”
“But, you never talked about my papa. Is he in heaven?”
Tears rose to her eyes at the thought. She forced her voice past the thickness in her throat. “I don't know, Gabriel. I believe your father is at sea, traveling the vast oceans of the world…”
“He's a pirate?” The child's eyes lit up and she hated to dash his hopes, but also refused to lie to him.
“No, Gabe. He is a captain of a ship called
La Voyageur
.”
“A captain…” he said on an exhale of breath. “I want to be like him,
Maman
. I want to travel the seas!”
She nodded, unable to speak for the knot forming in her throat. Fara kissed him again and let him settle against her as he drifted off to sleep. Her son could never understand how it hurt to hear him to say that, to want to be just like his father and perhaps never having the chance to meet the man at all. She blinked back her tears and stared out the window into the midnight sky. Oh, Grant, she thought.
Why did you have to leave our child? Why did you ever leave me?
* * * *
Fara was in the market doing some shopping a few days later when she felt a hand on her shoulder. Spinning, she saw that it was
Monsieur
Bordeaux. She wanted to cringe. He had been hounding her for weeks. If he didn't follow her on errands, he made several unplanned visits to the house.
It wasn't the first time he had made an attempt to snare her into a life with him. Not only had he made that unethical mistake of entering her boudoir back in La Rochelle so long ago, he had approached her after that, about five months into her pregnancy when she was still shocked by Grant's departure. Then, she learned he had moved to Marseille and he meant to make her his wife as her uncle had proposed, even in her obvious disposition. Though Grant had rid her of the obligation long ago by seeking out her uncle's lawyer, as he had promised, Nicholas had still pursued her. Of course, she refused him. It was her choice now; even the courts could not gainsay that as long as her aunt approved of the decision.
“
Monsieur
,” she replied, attempting a jovial tone.
“Call me Nicholas. We are hardly strangers.”
She smiled flatly. “
Oui
, Nicholas.”
“I know our encounters may have seemed somewhat coincidental at times. I wish you to know my intentions, however, Fara.”
It was not courteous to carry on personal discussions in public. Fara interjected, “Nicholas, perhaps we should reserve it for another occasion…”
He shook his head, the talc in his hair flaking to the shoulder of his suit jacket. Why affluent men used the white powder rather than going natural, she could never understand. Even her uncle had used it from time to time. “I don't care about these commoners.” Aghast at his rude manner, Fara backed away, but he came closer. “I only wish to ask you to marry me.”
He had not even acquired permission from Lina. Her aunt, after all, was her only legal caretaker. “This is not the way to do things,
Monsieur
. And I am not ready for that kind of commitment.”
“I would take care of you, Fara. I know you would make an exceptional wife.”
“Nicholas...” Fara sighed. Nicholas Bordeaux was fairly attractive and respectable among society's elite. Most girls would consider it an honor for him to consider her for a wife, but she couldn't help remembering that he was once Grant's enemy. He'd nearly killed Grant and would have succeeded had she not revived him. She couldn't dismiss his continual amorous habits with
dames de nuit
. His behavior in most every situation was entirely inappropriate. He simply disgusted her, not to mention he was an arrogant
salaud
. “I can't,” she said softly.
“Why not? You're not a grieving widow. You're certainly not too young.” He hesitated, as if thinking of the possibilities. “You haven't accepted another man's proposal, have you? Fara, you would tell me if that were the case, wouldn't you?”
Well, she had promised Grant she would wait for him and that was so long ago. “Nicholas, you know I am no virgin. There's also Gabriel to consider...”
“Your son will be provided for and as for the other, that doesn't matter to me. Here in France, virginity should be the least of worries. It means nothing.”
But, it does mean something to me, she wanted to scream at him. Why, by the very things he said...it was as if Grant never existed, and he'd definitely been no fairy tale to her. “I'm sorry, Nicholas. I cannot accept your proposal.”
His jaw tightened and he nodded. “Well it is, of course, your decision. I'm sorry if the prospect of marrying me seems ghastly. Good afternoon,
Mademoiselle
Bellamont
.” He turned on his heel and walked to his carriage.
* * * *
The next morning as Fara sat in the parlor tending to Gabriel, she glanced over at her aunt.
Tante
Lina was older now, but the years had been kind to her. For all her time spent as a socialite, she never changed in appearance and she'd never put on extra pounds.
Fara wondered often of the woman's social life. She seemed content to play the widow, having no need of a man to please her. By now, Fara was aware that even though a woman's base needs never equaled that of a man, she still had them nonetheless, and they could not be forgotten. She survived by remembering her past with Grant, and had never sought another man to please her in that manner. Yet, how had her aunt survived so long without someone?
Fara herself was aware that although she hadn't reached the years of spinsterhood and she was young yet, the years passed quickly in this life and before long the offers of marriage would cease. Gabriel needed a father and if she wasn't so choosy, he would have one by now. In her heart, Grant could not be forgotten. Was that perhaps why her aunt remained in her position?