A Sister's Quest (32 page)

She wanted to agree. This was too peculiar. But if there was a chance the money she could get for the ring would help her save Alexei, she must play this game. She went to sit in one of the trio of chairs by the other table. For a moment she thought Rusak would storm out. Then he sat beside her.

An hour had never seemed so long … or so short. Michelle was tossed between expectation and despair as the hands on the clock by the door slowly moved, then seemed to leap forward like a runaway horse. Beside her, Rusak was lost in his thoughts, and she guessed he was thinking about his new job at the school. It was a wonderful opportunity for him, but …

The door opened again, and two people entered. The dark-haired woman was dressed in the height of fashion. Beside her, a tall man also had jet black hair, but when he passed the window, the sparkle of a gold earring glistened in his left ear.

Monsieur Mauriac rushed forward to greet them. Turning, he said, as Michelle and Rusak came to their feet, “Mademoiselle D'Orage, may I introduce Lady Sommerton and the
Duc
de Tonnere du Grêlon, who are interested in your ring?”

A
duc
? Wearing a gold earring? And the lady's name was decidedly English. What was going on here? She knew it did not matter. All that mattered was selling
Maman
's ring. With the aplomb she had honed in Vienna, she held out her hand.

The
duc
took it in his gloved hand and bowed over it, then glanced at Lady Sommerton. His mistress? But why would a French
duc
have an Englishwoman for a mistress? She almost laughed. Alexei had been pretending to be a Russian with a Swiss mistress. The wisest thing would be to sell them the ring and leave.

Quietly Michelle said, “I would like to introduce my friend Feodor Rusak.” She tried to smile.

Rusak nodded in their direction. She did not explain that he could not speak. She wanted to conclude this deal and continue her search for Alexei.

The
duc
said smoothly, “Mademoiselle D'Orage, we are pleased you agreed to meet us.”

“Monsieur Mauriac led me to believe that this meeting was necessary to complete our business.”

“May I examine the ring you are offering to sell?”

“Certainly.” Despite her attempts to remain calm, her fingers quivered as she drew off the ring. She did not want to sell her last connection with
Maman
.

He ran his finger along the raised lightning bolt. When he offered it to Lady Sommerton, Michelle was shocked to see tears in her eyes.

“Mademoiselle D'Orage,” Lady Sommerton asked, her voice cracking, “is it possible that your mother's name was Sophie?”

“Yes, but how—”

“Dominic, it could be her!”

He put a calming hand on her arm. “Don't jump to conclusions too hastily, Brienne.” His piercing ebony eyes reminded Michelle so much of Alexei's green ones as he asked, “Would you be willing to answer a few questions?”

“About what?” She was losing valuable time here. She wanted to say that, but heated words might destroy the chance to get the money she needed.

“Your mother's name was Sophie. Sophie what?”

“Sophie D'Orage.”

He rubbed his chin. “D'Orage. That is French for ‘storm.' It could suggest Tonnere du Grêlon.”

“Thunderstone?” repeated Michelle in confusion, noting for the first time his odd title. “Like the one on
Maman
's ring?”

Lady Sommerton smiled. “And your father's name?”

“Michel. I was named for him.”

“Not Marc-Michel?” Lady Sommerton asked.

“No. I told you; now can we speak of the ring?”

“Your father is where?” asked the
duc
.

“He is dead.”

“When?”

“Your Grace, I do not believe that this conversation is necessary in order for you to purchase my ring. If this is how business is conducted here in Paris, I shall wait until I return to Zurich to sell it.” She was bluffing, but she hoped they would not realize that.

“Zurich?” asked Lady Sommerton as she sat. “Is that where you have been? You have been so close all the time?”

Icily, Michelle said, “If you will give me back my ring, I think we shall leave. This has gone on long enough.”

“Please be patient, Mademoiselle D'Orage,” Monsieur Mauriac urged.

Michelle shook her head and held out her hand. She refused to be taunted because she needed money.

The
duc
said, “Forgive us, Madeomiselle D'Orage, but we have a reason for asking these questions.”

“Then mayhap if you were to explain, I, too, might understand.”

“Monsieur Mauriac asked you to meet us,” the
duc said
, “because we offered him, as we have every jeweler in Paris, a handsome reward if he found this ring. But we asked to meet the owner face-to-face.”

She looked from the
duc
to Lady Sommerton. She wanted to trust them, but she had learned smiles sometimes hid the truth. “You still have not explained your interest in
Maman
's ring.”

In a voice raw with emotion, Lady Sommerton said, “Mademoiselle D'Orage … Michelle, I think you are my younger sister.”

“Sister?” She shook her head. “You have made a mistake. I am not the one you are looking for. I do not have a sister. It was only
Maman
and me.”

“Because your father was beheaded during the Terror?”

Rusak clutched Michelle's arm, but she did not need his warning to be careful.

“Many died then,” she answered coolly. “I am sorry you lost your parents and sister, Lady Sommerton.” Holding out her hand again, she said, “My ring, please, Your Grace.”

When he did not return it to her, she hesitated. The
duc
stood a head taller than Rusak. As Rusak shifted his stance and clenched his fists, she motioned for him to do nothing. If he tried to get her ring back, someone might be hurt.

“Mademoiselle D'Orage,” the
duc
asked, “will you let us explain?”

Grudgingly, she nodded.

“As Brienne said, we believe you are our sister.”

“
Our
sister?” She sat and stared at him.

He drew off his left glove. Her eyes grew wide as she saw the ring on his hand. It matched
Maman
's. Taking it off, he handed it to her. “Our father's ring. Our father, Marc-Michel Levesque.”

“Marc-Michel Levesque?” She tilted his ring and saw the engraving inside. It was just as in
Maman
's ring. “MML and SR. Marc-Michel Levesque and Sophie Rameau?”

“We had hoped,” Lady Sommerton said with a tentative smile, “that when
Maman
fled Paris after our father was executed, that she took her wedding ring along with our baby sister.” She took Michelle's hands. “Our father's name was Marc-Michel Levesque. Michelle, you are our sister. Whether you believe it or not, I do.”

“I do not know what to believe.”

“I know exactly how you feel. Like you, I was raised far from home.”

“Home?”

Monsieur Mauriac grinned and interjected, “Mademoiselle, your brother and his wife have returned to France to claim your family's estate, Château Tonnere du Grêlon. You, Mademoiselle D'Orage—or, I should say, Mademoiselle Levesque—are a
duc's
daughter.”

Michelle fought to breathe. She looked at Rusak, but his face was as ashen as hers must be.
Maman
had been a
duchesse
? How had
Maman
kept this secret for so many years? Had Alexei known? He had been so closemoudied about other things. He might have known and never told her.

“Are you all right?” Lady Sommerton asked.

“Yes,” she whispered. “I believe I am.”

The
duc
chuckled as he handed her
Maman
's ring. “I suspected you would be. Such tidings are not enough to defeat a Levesque. Will you and Monsieur Rusak join us at the family's house here in Paris? We can speak further there.”

As she opened her mouth to answer, Rusak gripped her face, turning it toward him. He signed furiously.
Say no, Michelle. Think first
.

“Why?”

Not sure. Mayhap lies
.

“I am not sure either, but—” She switched to sign language.
Duc help find Alexei. Must try
. She saw the others watching with curiosity. “Rusak was injured in the war, and this is how he speaks.”

“Fascinating,” said Lady Sommerton. “You talk with your hands, Monsieur Rusak? Did you know there is a school that teaches that manual language here in Paris?”

“He has been offered a position as an instructor there.”

“Perfect! Our house is convenient to it.” She smiled at her brother—not just hers, but Michelle's. “I cannot believe we have finally found her. Who would have guessed that Armistead LaPorte was honest when he told me that my sister was in a place that would be difficult to reach in the winter? Zurich fits that description perfectly, and now here she is.”

“Armistead LaPorte?” Michelle asked.

Lady Sommerton smiled. “A long story about an old enemy, Michelle.”

“Shall we go?” asked the
duc
. “You can tell her that story in the carriage, Brienne.”

Again Michelle hesitated.

“Is there a problem, Michelle?” the
duc
asked as he opened the door.

She should have guessed any man who reminded her of Alexei would not miss something as obvious as her distress. “Your Grace, I—”

“Please call me Dominic.” He gave her a roguish smile. “You are unsure of our familial ties, but I am not. You look exactly like the paintings of Sophie Rameau that are still hanging at the château.”

“That is how we knew instantly it was you,” said Lady Sommerton—no, Brienne.

A sister and a brother? Michelle wished her mind would stop whirling. When she stepped out of the shop and saw Brienne run up to a man and a woman standing by a carriage, she took a steadying breath. The man and woman were obviously waiting for them.

With a sparkling laugh, Brienne said, “Michelle, come and meet my husband, Evan.” She put her hand on the arm of the man, whose hair was a tawny brown, and smiled up at him. Then, looking at the woman who had the most amazing red hair Michelle had ever seen, she added, “And this is Dominic's wife, Abigail.”

Michelle's smile grew uncomfortable as she greeted this sudden family. So many questions teased her to be asked, especially because she realized Evan was English, and Abigail was an American. Michelle blinked back tears as she thought of how Alexei wanted to travel to America.

“We should go,” Brienne said, her smile widening even more. “By this time, Lucile will be awake from her nap.”

“Lucile?” asked Michelle.

“Our daughter,” Evan replied, putting his arm around Brienne. “And she already has the Levesque contrariness and determination.”

Michelle shook her head in amazement. “I cannot believe all the relatives I now have.” She glanced at Rusak, and saw her uneven emotions reflected in his frown. She was so happy to have found this family, but her joy was diminished by her fears for Alexei.

Mayhap can help
.

She nodded. Mayhap her family could help her find Alexei. A
duc
must have allies who might be able to unearth even a hint of Alexei. She shuddered, wishing she had not thought of the word
unearth
. He could not be dead.

Michelle waited for the other women to climb into the carriage. She smiled as Dominic handed her in. His hand was as rough as Alexei's, surprising her, because she had not guessed a
duc
would lead a rough life or wear an earring like a pirate.

Rusak stepped into the carriage after Michelle and sat facing Brienne and Abigail. Michelle sat next to him as he continued to sign his concerns and his hopes to her. He still did not trust these people. As Dominic sat beside Brienne and joked about the crowded carriage, her breath caught. It was as if she looked at the picture of her father, for they both had the same determined expression in their dark eyes.

As the carriage jerked into motion, Michelle gasped. Too late she realized how she was sitting. She clenched the edge of the red velvet seat.

Evan smiled. “I realize it is not comfortable, but we need go only as far as Îsle Saint-Louis.”

Michelle could not answer as she shivered. Since the ambush on them in Vienna, she had been careful not to ride backward. Her stomach roiled.

“Evan,” cried Brienne with abrupt concern, “something is wrong. Michelle's face is as gray as the cobbles. Stop the carriage.”

“No! Don't stop the carriage! Don't!” Michelle hid her face against Rusak's shoulder as memories pummeled her with the pain of that horrible night.

“Michelle?” Abigail put her hand on Michelle's arm. “The signs Monsieur Rusak is making … Were you shot in a carriage?”

Taking deep breaths, Michelle tried to banish her panic. “Yes,” she whispered. “In Vienna.” She started to explain, but Evan stood awkwardly and motioned for her to take his seat.

“Michelle, you will be much more comfortable here,” he said.

She dropped gratefully into his seat, glad that he had not suggested that they stop the carriage to change places. “Thank you,” she whispered.

“Let us speak of something else,” Brienne said softly. “Tell us about
Maman
, please.”

As Michelle glanced at the entreaty on Brienne's face, she pushed aside her terror. Her sister longed for any connection with their mother. Touching
Maman
's ring, she whispered, “
Maman
was always kind and laughing and making everything more exciting. I wish I could have spent more time with her.”

“I thought she died only a few years ago,” Dominic said.

“Yes, but I did not see her as often as I wished when I was growing up because
Maman …
worked. She was a … a … a spy.”