The Exiles (32 page)

Going downstairs, she found that the kitchen was not yet closed, and she had the cook fix her two plates of hot food. She stopped by the desk and asked them to bring up some fresh water, then went back to her room, where she found Veronique wearing her nightgown and sitting stiffly in a chair.

“Well, you’re all clean and have a nice, fresh gown on. Look, let’s use this dresser as a table. This food smells good.”

Veronique got up and pulled her chair closer. Without appearing to do so, Chantel noted that the child held her fork clutched in an awkward way. She bent over close to her plate and stuffed the food into her mouth as if she were afraid someone would take it from her. The juice ran down her chin and she wiped it with her sleeve. As she ate, she kept glancing fearfully at Chantel. She did not eat much, and she said nothing, but Chantel kept up a running conversation. She hardly knew what she said, and it mattered little, for all Veronique needed was the sound of a voice.

Halfway through the meal a servant brought water, and after they had finished their meal, Chantel undressed and washed herself as well as she could. She slipped into her other nightgown and said, “Now, we ought to sleep well tonight. “

She watched as Veronique moved to the bed and went to her side. She took the child in her arms and hugged her, saying, “I’m so glad I found you, little sister! I’ve always longed for you!” She felt the tension in Veronique’s body at first, but gradually the child relaxed. Chantel kissed her on the cheek, saying, “You look so much like Mama!”

“Do I really?”

“Yes, indeed.” Chantel ran her hand over Veronique’s wealth of light hair, saying, “Her hair was exactly the color of yours—and your face is oval like hers. I’ll show you her portrait when we get home and you’ll see.”

Chantel tucked the child into the bed, smiled, and said, “I’ll see you in the morning, sister.” She turned the lamp’s wick down, and when she got into the other side of the bed she saw that the silvery moonlight was coming in through the window. She lay still for a while, hoping that Veronique would say something, but she did not. She could hear the girl’s rapid breathing and knew she was not asleep, but decided to lie quietly without saying any more.

Soon she fell asleep herself, for she was exhausted. Sometime in the night she heard a cry that startled her. She sat up and saw that Veronique had buried her head in her pillow and was sobbing.

“What is it, dear?”

“I had a bad dream.”

Chantel’s heart went out to her sister. She had had her share of bad dreams, and now she reached out and pulled Veronique into her arms. She held her while the girl sobbed, soothing her, stroking her hair, and making meaningless sounds of comfort. Finally the sobbing ceased, and an idea came to Chantel.

“Now, that’s better. But I want to show you something.” She moved out of the bed, lit the lamp, and got something from her suitcase. She sat down on the bed and pulled Veronique into the circle of her arms. “Look. I want you to see this.”

“What is it?”

“It’s a locket. You see, it opens and there’s a picture inside.”

Veronique grew interested. She took the gold locket and with Chantel’s guidance opened it up. She looked at the picture. “Who is this?”

“This is your mother. Isn’t she beautiful?”

Veronique stared at the picture, hypnotized. She was still so long that Chantel said, “You look very much like her.”

“Do I really?”

“Yes, you do. She had very nice teeth, so even and white, just like yours. I want you to have this locket. When you get lonely, you can open it up and see your mother.”

Veronique turned suddenly. Her face was only inches away from Chantel’s. She whispered, “It’s mine? I can keep it?”

“For always and always. And someday when you have a little girl, you can give it to her.”

Veronique suddenly threw her arms around Chantel and clung to her. She did not speak, but Chantel knew that a bond had been formed. Under her breath, she thanked God that she had brought the locket.

During the trip from Baton Rouge to New Orleans, Neville went out of his way to keep Veronique entertained. He had told Chantel that they must keep her mind off of the past and on the future.

On one long, level stretch he asked her, “Do you know how to drive?”

Veronique shook her head, but Neville handed her the lines and said, “There, you are now a driver.” He winked over Veronique’s head at Chantel and said, “We’re in good hands now.”

Veronique’s eyes lit up, and when they stopped to water the horses, she got out of the wagon to stretch her legs along with the other two.

Chantel whispered to Neville, “That was a sweet thing to do.”

“How do you think she’s doing, Chantel?”

“She had nightmares last night, but I gave her my locket with our mother’s picture in it. She’s wearing it now.”

“I’ve seen her take it out and look at it several times.”

Chantel watched Veronique as she stood in front of the horses, reaching up to touch their noses. “She’s a sweet girl, but she’s had an awful life.”

“She’ll be all right now that she’s with you.”

Chantel suddenly reached out and touched Neville’s arm. “What would I have done without you?”

Neville stood very still, and suddenly Chantel blushed and moved her hand. “How long do you think it will take us to get to New Orleans?”

“Not long,” he said. He called to Veronique, lifted her up into the seat, then helped Chantel up. Climbing up into his own seat, he slapped the lines on the horses and got them to a sprightly trot. “Now, see if you can handle these, sweetheart.”

The trip back to New Orleans had been trying, but Chantel didn’t mind. She spent the hours getting acquainted with Veronique. The youngster was very quiet at first, but as Chantel told her stories about her own life then about things the two of them would do together, she became more talkative. Neville was a help with this, for he was gifted with young people, and kept Veronique entertained with humorous stories from his own life.

Finally they arrived at the town house, and as Neville helped Chantel down, he said, “I’m going to leave you here. I’ve got a lot of work to do. We’re going to have to make sure that things go well legally.”

“Will you come back and tell me as soon as you find out?”

“Yes, of course.” Turning, he stooped down to say to Veronique, “Don’t forget me now. When I come back, we can go downtown and see some of the sights. Would you like that?”

“Yes, please.”

“Good. You take care of your sister now. She’s a big girl, but she’s apt to get into trouble.” He was rewarded by a slight smile on Veronique’s face.

When he had left, Chantel said, “Come inside. I want you to meet my stepmother and our brother.”

“A real brother?”

“Well, he’s what you call a half-brother. His father is our father, but his mother is different. Come along.”

They entered the house, and as soon as the servant shut the door, Collette came to stand before them. “Chantel,” she said, “where have you been?”

“I have a lot of things to tell you, Mama, but first I want you to meet Veronique. Veronique, this is Madame Fontaine.” She had not known exactly how to introduce her. The idea of introducing a third mother would confuse the child even more. Now she saw the shock run across Collette’s face and felt Veronique stiffen beside her.

“Come inside. Will you want a special room for the child?”

“Oh, no, we can share my room.”

Collette said, “Well, you take her there, then come back and we’ll talk.”

“Yes, that would be best.”

Collette watched as the two went up, and her lips grew together in a tight line. She shook her head and murmured, “What foolishness!” then turned and walked rapidly away.

“I don’t think that lady likes me, Chantel,” Veronique said when the two were inside the room.

Chantel had seen the same dislike, but she said, “Of course she does. Now, don’t you worry about anything. I’ll tell you what. I’ll go down and see her for a few moments, and when I come back, you and I will go out and see some of New Orleans. Maybe we’ll go by Neville’s office and see him there, and we can all go out and eat somewhere. Would you like that?”

“Yes. But will you be gone long?”

Chantel sensed her fear. “You just look out the window there. And I have some books you might like to look through.”

“Can’t read, me.”

“Well, you can look at the pictures then.” She gave Veronique several books with pictures in them and went downstairs, where she found Collette in the study.

Collette was abrupt. “You should not have brought that child here. She’s a stranger.”

Chantel instinctively knew that the situation was hopeless, so she did not waste time arguing. She simply said, “She’s my sister, Collette.”

The use of her first name was not lost on her stepmother. Collette drew herself up but said nothing.

“We’ll be leaving tomorrow to go to the plantation,” Chantel said, “so she won’t be in your way. Now, I must go. I don’t like to leave her alone.”

She turned and went back with a heavy heart. She had hoped for better things from Collette, but it didn’t really matter. A fierce sense of possession came over her.
She’s my sister. I don’t care what Collette says. And I’ll protect her.

She did not want to leave the girl in the house, so they went out at once. They did go by Neville’s office, but he was not there. They spent the afternoon shopping and stayed out late enough so that they would not have to encounter Collette.

They had just gotten home when Neville suddenly appeared, asking for her. Veronique was already in bed looking at picture books, so Chantel drew him into the library.

“How is Veronique?” he asked quickly.

“Oh, she’s frightened at all the changes. But she’s young and very quick.” Chantel smiled warmly. “I can teach her, Neville. She’s going to be fine.”

Neville nodded, but then his face grew serious.

Neville was relieved to hear that Veronique was adjusting so well and felt it was the Lord’s doing. He then paused and said, “I’ve got something to tell you. It may change things.”

“Oh, Neville, don’t tell me we’re going to have trouble getting her.”

“No, we won’t have that trouble,” he said grimly. He shook his head and said, “Simon Tubberville was killed resisting arrest.”

“Oh, how awful!”

“He wouldn’t have it any other way. I got a telegram from Sheriff Prewitt. He talked to the man’s wife, and there’ll be no challenge over Veronique.”

“Whatever will I tell her?”

“I think eventually you should tell her the truth, but maybe not yet. She’s had too many shocks.”

“I’m not sure. She worries about her father coming after her.”

“Well, then perhaps you had better tell her.”

“Yes, but I will wait to do it when we are at the plantation.”

Neville looked at her questioningly.

“I won’t be staying in this house. Collette was not happy when I brought her home.”

“She wouldn’t be. Your father left his estate to be divided among his ‘lawful lineal descendants,’ so Veronique will get one-third of the amount. She doesn’t like to see Perrin’s assets reduced from a half to a third.”

“I didn’t think she would be that small.” Chantel shook her head sadly. “He could have my share.”

“No. Your father left it as he wanted. When will you be leaving?”

“Tomorrow.”

“I’ll stay here and get all the legal matters straight.”

As he rose to leave, Chantel called his name. “Neville—”

When he turned, she came to him and put her hand out. “I seem to be thanking you a lot, but this would have been impossible without you.”

“I’m glad we found her,” Neville said simply. He held her hand in his, and for one moment something came into his eyes. Chantel was not experienced with men, but she knew that he wanted to kiss her. She did not move—then suddenly he nodded and left. A strange sense of disappointment came to her.

Chapter thirty

Marie Bientot set the heavy pot on the stove, took the lid off, and examined the contents critically. “I hope this gumbo will be as good as it was last time.”

Clarice, who was chopping up vegetables, looked up and said, “Why would it not be good? I always make good gumbo.”

“Yes, you do.” Marie came over and sat down beside Clarice. “Where has the child gone today?”

“She is out riding with Miss Chantel.” Clarice finished slicing the carrots into thin coins, wiped the knife on her apron, and smiled. “That child, she has brought a new life to this place.”

“Yes. It is amazing how she has changed in a little less than a month. When she first came, I thought she was the saddest looking girl I ever saw.”

Marie shook her head, but smiled. “She ate like a little savage, remember?”

“Yes, but she’s learned very quickly.”

“Yes, and she should have! Miss Chantel has spent almost every moment with her. The hours those two have spent shopping!” Marie smiled at the thought, then added, “The child has good taste in clothes.”

“She’s learning to read so quickly. Have you noticed how often she laughs now? She didn’t smile for a long time when she first came.”

“Well, who wouldn’t be sad? Being yanked up from the only home she knew.”

“It wasn’t much of a home, from what I hear. Does she ever speak of it to you?”

“Never. And Miss Chantel says she only mentions the woman she called her mother. She had Miss Chantel write her a letter, but there is no answer yet.”

Marie picked up a carrot slice and ate it. “It is amazing how much she looks like her own mother. She will be just like her when she is grown.”

“It is a wonderful thing for the child that she was found.”

“It’s a wonderful thing for both of them. You know, Chantel never really believed that child was dead. I think the good God must have put it in her heart to have faith that she would be found.”

Chantel was riding Bravo, and she had assigned Lady, her first horse, to Veronique. Lady was getting somewhat old and Chantel’s weight was too much for her, but Chantel loved the horse still. When she gave the horse to Veronique, she said, “Papa gave the horse to me, and now he gives her to you because I give her to you.”