Strands of Bronze and Gold (28 page)

“My hair,” I said reluctantly.

“Beautiful. How clever! And how does it stand out so from the rest of the image?”

“Fine wire twisted among the strands.”

“You’ve always been better at needlework than I. And look at your bracelet. It shines like copper, but it must be hair as well.”

It was easy to let her believe it crafted solely of my own strands. I would never tell her about the wives. She wouldn’t understand.

We met together afterward for a round of billiards. Even Anne and I played, and soon we were all merry because my ladylike sister was naturally skilled at ricocheting balls. The familial camaraderie, the larking, the witty comments, all spread a warm golden glow around us.

No one wanted to retire yet, so next we gathered about the piano, with Anne playing. We sang popular lyrics—love ditties and Negro ballads and folk songs. I took the soprano part, Anne was alto, Harry and Junius tenor, and M. Bernard bass. We blended beautifully. M. Bernard’s voice was deep and mellow.

The glow about us continued until I glanced toward the window. Then my throat closed up even as the goose bumps rose on my arms. The shivery glimmering began, and soon a lady was seated upon the window seat, her halo of pale strawberry blond hair brightened by the sea foam hue of her gown. She slumped against the wall, staring desolately out into the black night. Tatiana.

M. Bernard put his hand possessively on my shoulder. “
Chérie
. It is time you retired for the evening.”

“Soon,” I said, “and then perhaps we should all go.”

“No,” Anne said, giving me a little shove toward the door. “How thoughtful of Monsieur de Cressac to note how tired you are. Go on up and we won’t be long afterward.”

I found myself heading upstairs even though I resented being treated like a five-year-old and was too excited by my family’s presence to think of sleeping. I undressed but kept the candles lit so I could read.

A soft knock sounded on my bedchamber door an hour later. Before I had time to fear it could be someone else, Anne’s voice called, “May I come in?”

I arose and turned the key.

“Do you always lock your door?” she asked, momentarily diverted.

I nodded but didn’t explain. “Come in.”

As my sister entered the room, her lower lip dropped. “Oh, so grand! And look at those wardrobes filled with beautiful dresses. You fortunate, fortunate girl!” she repeated.

“Did you come to tell me something?” I asked.

She swirled around to face me. “We have wonderful news. I couldn’t wait until the morning. Tonight Junius and Monsieur de Cressac discussed Junius’s profession and—oh, Sophie, you’ll never guess!”

“My godfather says he’ll give Junius a start in business.”

“How ever did you know? We’re so grateful to Monsieur. He’ll be the making of our brother.”

I didn’t tell her it was exactly what I had been expecting. A cold lump settled in my stomach. I suddenly felt very small and insecure standing in my vast bedchamber and could only squeeze out the words, “How grand for Junius.”

“You may use my little boat if you like,” I said from behind Harry, causing him to start.

I had known he intended to rise early to go fishing, and while it was yet dark, I had listened for his door to open. At the sound I dashed to follow the glow of his lantern down to the lake. Toby, a bright-eyed twelve-year-old who did odd jobs about the place, trotted behind him, toting Harry’s fishing gear. Evidently my brother had quickly learned the ways of the South.

“What are you doing out here?” Harry demanded once he had recovered himself. “You should still be snoozing for hours like all fashionable young ladies.”

I gave a delicate, derisive snort and took his arm as we walked out onto the dock. “I want to have you to myself for a while. You’ve been here four days and I’ve hardly seen you.”

“Well, you know, we fellows need to hunt while the hunting’s good.” He touched the curving swan neck of my boat. “Is this really your own? What a beauty!”

“Yes. Monsieur Bernard gave it to me.”

“You are certainly in the way to becoming spoiled, my girl.” He pinched my cheek, and I swatted his hand away.

Toby held the side of the boat as I stepped in. I inclined my head toward him as he handed Harry the pole and tackle. “
I’m
not the one who needs a poor little boy to carry my gear for me.”

Harry laughed.
“Touché.”
He rowed us out to the middle of the lake while Toby huddled sleepily on the pier.

With the black water beneath and the yet-dark sky all around, we were alone in the world within our little island of lantern light. I sat quietly as my brother cast in his line. The silence and the dark settled around us. He stared out with deep-shadowed eyes.

“What’s wrong, Harry?” I asked.

“Wrong?”

“Something is fretting you. Is it money?”

With one hand, he scooped a stray pebble from the bottom of the boat and pitched it hard across the lake. “Of course it’s money—isn’t that always the problem for us Petherams? I shouldn’t tell you, since there’s nothing you can do about it, but if you must know … I’m ruined. If I don’t come up with a great deal of cash in a very short time, I’m a dead man. The fellows I owe aren’t the forgiving sort.”

He looked very boyish, hunched over in the boat with fishing pole in hand, to be saying such desperate words.

“Didn’t Anne give you the funds from Monsieur Bernard?”

“Oh, yes. Thank you, by the way. But I owed far more than she knew. That amount paid my tradesmen bills, so at least they’re off my tail. Too bad it was a drop in the bucket compared to what I owe
the gaming hall. I was a fool—I know that now, but it’s too late. Got carried away by the company I kept. I always thought that I could keep up, that I’d land on my feet. And they’re devilishly fine fellows—kept me in whoops—but now they want nothing to do with me. Afraid I’ll ask for a loan, I guess. Anyway, they took me to their favorite haunt, and I won at first, which evidently is what those places always plan for green players.”

My mind raced frantically. I must help him. “And then you began losing soon after.”

“Of course. Lost it all, and kept thinking I’d win it back, so I gave my promissory notes, and the long and short of it is, I’m sunk. At least our time here allows me a reprieve. It’s hard to forget, though, that those oafs will be lying in wait as soon as I return.”

You must marry Monsieur Bernard
, a cold little voice in my head stated flatly. I remembered what Anne had said about becoming an adult and making sacrifices. My time had come. “There is a way you can get the money,” I said slowly.

“No, I shan’t plague de Cressac. As it is, he’s done enough I can never pay back. I’m going to take it like a man. Only problem is, I’m scared of how they’ll get me. Keeps me awake at night and keeps me drinking the brandy—something else I can’t afford—and always I feel ill. There’s no way out, so I’ll take the consequences.”

“Yes, there is a way. If Monsieur Bernard is my husband, he would gladly give the money to his brother-in-law without expecting to be repaid.”

“Brother-in-law?” Harry’s mouth fell open. “Are you telling me de Cressac wants to marry you? Really?”

“Yes, really.”

He ruffled my hair in teasing brotherly fashion. “Hard to imagine you being old enough for such a thing, but I have noticed he acts as if he owns you already.”

“He did make me a proposal, but I haven’t given him my promise yet. I’ll—” I paused, then quickly said the words, “I’ll give it to him today.”

“No, Sophie. I can’t have my sister selling herself for my sake. That would be wrong, unless … only … do you—do you like him at all? He seems a good fellow.”

“Of course I like him,” I said, tossing my head. Harry must never know how I really felt, what I feared. And perhaps it would turn out not to be such a terrible thing after all. Surely—surely—if I worked even harder to make M. Bernard happy, my life wouldn’t be a bad one. I would learn from his former wives’ mistakes.

“Capital, then. That’s grand if you really want to marry him. Tell me again you wouldn’t be doing it just for me.”

“I—wouldn’t—be—doing—it—just—for—you, you silly boy.” I would be doing it for him
and
Anne
and
Junius. People—my people—were all that mattered now.

He heaved a great sigh of relief, as if he’d been holding it in for days, and looked at me speculatively.

“Our little sister—a bride and a wealthy woman to boot. Imagine! I never dreamed you’d beat Anne to the altar, but you really do seem years older than you did last spring. I saw it first thing when we got here. Not near the flibbertigibbet you used to be. You ought to ask de Cressac for a sea monster boat as a wedding present, by the way; there was a brilliantly painted one at Boston Harbor a while
back that would look fine on your lake.” He tugged at his line and said cheerfully, “Look now, I’ve got a bite.”

Harry rowed me to shore, and I returned to my bedchamber. Odette dressed me in a morning gown of deep violet. I spelled it m-o-u-r-n-i-n-g in my mind, as violet is a color of half mourning, suitable for what I was resigned to do. This would be the death of so many things.

I placed myself on a carved bench in the hall near my godfather’s bedchamber door. It seemed indelicate to do such a thing, as if I were waiting to pounce, but there must be no time to reconsider.

When I spoke to M. Bernard, I would remind him of the ball he had mentioned previously. The neighboring world should know of my existence. I refused to live and die unknown here at Wyndriven Abbey, as had Victoire and Tatiana, Tara and Adele. When we were betrothed, while he yet strove to please, I would make some requests. The ball would be the first, and later I would demand to attend church and pay a few calls. I would carefully tread the balance between giving in to M. Bernard and standing up for myself. I didn’t let myself think of Gideon—or rather,
Mr. Stone
, as he must forever be to me now.

Achal eyed me suspiciously as he glided past my bench and into his master’s room. M. Bernard emerged soon after, wearing his paisley satin dressing gown. His hair was rumpled and his cheeks showed dark stubble. I had roused him before shaving. My face grew hot; it was too intimate to see him like this. But I’d better get used to it.

“What is it? Is something amiss?” he asked, yawning.

I rose. “No, sir, but I wanted to catch you alone.”

“Well then, you have caught me. What will you do with me?” He offered his arm. “Come, let us go down to the library. We can have a fire laid, and we will have one of our intimate
tête-à-têtes
.”

I laid a cold hand on his elbow and we made our way downstairs.

A housemaid lit the fire, and we sat together in the familiar manner, but this time was different. I stared at the tongues of flame licking and curling about the logs.

“So, what is on your mind?” he asked.

I turned and made myself look directly into his amber eyes, his tiger eyes. “Sir, last week you told me—you asked me to marry you, and you were so obliging as to let me consider it for a few days.”

“And have you finished considering it?”

“I have. Do you still wish it?”

A smile played about his lips. “
Naturellement
. Dare I hope you have decided you would indeed like to marry me?”

I took a breath. “Yes, if you please. And I should like to be wed very soon—as soon as possible.”

“Your eagerness is touching. We will have to consult the calendar to set the date. I am thinking the end of January would give us time for planning the ceremony and a wedding trip. Perhaps to Barbados, hmm? Lots of sunshine and little clothing.”

“I’ve heard that island is beautiful.”

He put his hands on my shoulders, and I studied the paisley pattern of his dressing gown. It helped to concentrate on that instead of my new fiancé’s face.

He lifted my chin so I had to look up. His expression was tender. “I plan to always be good to you. I want to always make you happy.
This is something I have never before spoken about to you, as it is painful, but I tell you now—my former marriages were terrible mistakes. They were unhappy women. I am not a young man, but all this time was necessary for me to finally know the sort of wife I need, and it’s you, Sophia. You, with your spirit of fancifulness and innocence. It took me all these years and all those mistakes in order to wait for you to grow up. This time I have chosen perfectly. These months we’ve been together—I have never been so happy.”

“Thank you, Monsieur Bernard,” I said in a taut little voice. “I shall strive to be a pleasant wife and companion.”

I wondered how soon I could ask for the money for Harry. I would have to wait a few weeks at least.

“Will you call me Bernard now, without the ‘Monsieur’ attached? Surely it would be allowed now I am officially your fiancé.”

I managed a weak smile. “Yes—Bernard. And there is one thing more.”

“Oui?”

“You mentioned a ball to announce our betrothal; I would like that—while my family is here.”

M. Bernard—or rather,
Bernard
—lifted his arms above his head. “Oho! Making demands already, and her not two minutes engaged.” He took my icy hands in his own and said softly, “But of course. I will give orders to Bass and Mrs. Duckworth to commence preparations. A Christmas ball to proclaim our joy to the world. Our neighbors will be astonished—Wyndriven Abbey open for a gala!”