Louisa Rawlings (6 page)

Madame Givet looked flustered at the unexpected compliment. “Honorable work, you say?”

“There’s only one difficulty, Maman,” said Topaze quickly. “That’s why I wanted Michel here as well. There’ll be fresh burdens for him. You see, I must…go away with these men.”

“Holy Mother. Go away? For how long?”

Ducellier cleared his throat. “Some months, I fear. At least until the beginning of June.”

“No.” Madame Givet shook her head. “Don’t you see, Topaze? Michel has apprenticed himself to Guillaume. He’ll have to give it up and go back to Monsieur Baïse. And still there wouldn’t be enough for us to live on. You can’t go.”

“There’ll be money, Maman. These gentlemen have promised to give you money today; to keep you all until my return.”

“Money? How much?”

Topaze looked around the cold, dim room. It would be lovely if they could afford to rent their cottage again, buy a few sticks of furniture. Well, why not? She stared at Lucien Renaudot, her amber eyes filled with defiance. “They’ve promised two hundred and fifty livres, Maman. They’ve
sworn
it, as God is above.”

Ducellier frowned in bewilderment. “
Two
hundred and…?”

Renaudot put a restraining hand on his arm. “Two hundred and fifty. Yes. Look about you, my friend. It won’t go to waste.” He turned and smiled at Topaze. His eyes were blue ice, despite the smile. “There
will
be a reckoning,” he said softly.

Topaze gulped. She wasn’t at all sure she’d won that round. It seemed more likely that he’d allowed her to have her way, out of sympathy for the Givets. The next battle might not go so easily in her favor.

Madame Givet sighed. “I don’t know…”

“That’s a great deal of money, Maman,” said Michel, his eyes lighting up with hope. “We wouldn’t have to live here no more.”

“I know that. But…is it dangerous, Topaze? It
must
be, for all that money!”

“Of course not, Maman,” she lied. “Just a…foolish trick that these gentlemen want to play. That’s why it’s a secret. If anyone should come here asking after me, you must tell them I’ve gone away. Alone. You mustn’t say these men were here.” She laughed, to put Maman’s doubts to rest. “That would spoil the prank,
n’est-ce pas
?”

Madame Givet shook her head. “It must be nice to be rich enough to pay good money just for a prank. I aren’t never had that much to spare, myself.” She scowled at the two men. “They look a roguey sort. Especially that one, with the scar.”

Renaudot was at pains to hide his mocking smile. “Have a little Christian charity, madame. ’Twas not of my own doing.” He fingered the line on his cheek. “Though perhaps it was God’s judgment upon me.”

Madame Givet made the sign of the cross. “Heaven forbid! God is more merciful than that.”

Renaudot laughed softly. “Is He?”

“What a thing to say! When was the last time you went to church?”

“Not for a very long time, madame.” His eyes were cold.

She turned to Martin Ducellier. “And you?”

Ducellier smiled, a warm smile that served to heighten his handsome features. “Only last month, madame.”

Madame Givet grunted. “Well, I suppose you aren’t no worse than some. Where will you go with Topaze?”

“Alas, madame, that’s part of the secret. But the girl will be well cared for. Fed and clothed. She’ll sleep in a clean bed, stay in a warm house.”

At those words, Madame Givet seemed struck by a fresh thought. Her eyes darted suspiciously from one man to the other. “Are you married?”

“Oh, Lord,” muttered Renaudot, seeing fresh difficulties. ‘‘No.’’

“Neither of you?”

“No.”

“And when you take Topaze away with you, will there be others around? As chaperon?”

“Not for a few days. But Monsieur Ducellier’s aunt…”

“And I’m to trust this innocent child with you? And will you send her back to me in June with a fat belly?”

“Oh, Maman, I’m not a fool!”

“Topaze, my child, we raised you to be a God-fearing girl. But you don’t know a man when he’s filled with lust. And a single man? With no bonds of holy marriage to keep his prick safely tucked away? Your pardon, messieurs, but it’s so, for all you may swear to the contrary.”

Ducellier appeared offended. “Madame Givet, you misjudge us. We’ll treat the girl with all the deference due her young innocence. As though she were a fond sister.”

The woman pursed her thin lips together and straightened her back. Despite her shabby clothes and straggly graying hair, she had never had more dignity. “No, messieurs. You can’t have her. Not for all the gold in the king’s palace. Go away.”

Dear Sainte Anne!
Topaze saw their one opportunity vanishing. Now there’d be nothing save grinding poverty. Or the horror of marriage to Philibert. “Maman, I swear to you that I’ll guard my virtue with my life. Didn’t I promise you and Papa years ago? And what of the money? You know we need it. The little ones…”

Madame Givet wrung her hands, clearly torn by the dilemma. “You don’t know how seductive a man can be. Filled with false promises. Didn’t I see my own sister ruined by a man’s blandishments, so she prayed for death and God granted it?”

“But, Maman…” Topaze felt the sharp pang of disappointment. Not just for the loss of the men’s gold, though she’d already begun to picture her family warm and well fed. And not only because now she’d be forced into marriage with Philibert.
God forgive my wickedness
, she thought. But the danger, the challenge of going away with men who were rascally strangers, of plunging into the unknown future, had set her heart to pounding in wild anticipation.

“Madame Givet. Perhaps I can appeal to your mother’s heart.” Renaudot’s voice was as smooth as silk. He gazed earnestly into the older woman’s eyes.

What the devil is he up to?
thought Topaze.

“I must confess, madame,” he went on, “I…have a fondness for your daughter.”

Topaze’s mouth made a little surprised O. “Monsieur?” she squeaked.

He favored her with a warm smile. “Yes, it’s true. The very first time we met, Madame Givet, she stole a part of me.”

With a dramatic gesture he touched his heart. Then, as his hand slid down to rest on the pocket where he’d put his knife, he smiled again at Topaze. “Isn’t it so, my charming one?”

Topaze nearly choked, swallowing the oath that sprang to her lips. The black-hearted devil!

“We’ve only just met, I know. Yet I find myself growing so fond of her. A charming girl. Sweet. Gentle-natured. I’d intended to wait until she knew me better, knew her own heart. But, seeing your unease, madame, perhaps I shouldn’t.” He caught Topaze’s hand in his and kissed it with fervor. “Topaze. My sweet. Will you do me the honor, the extreme pleasure, of becoming my bride? For I swear, by all that I hold most dear, that you’re precious to me. My very future, my happiness, depends on you.” Only the flash of his blue eyes betrayed the cynicism behind his words.

“Name of God, I do protest!” cried Ducellier.

Topaze was having difficulty finding her voice. She tried to free her hand from Lucien Renaudot’s grasp, but he held her firmly. “This is…so sudden, monsieur,” she said at last. “Maman, have I your permission to speak to the gentleman in private?” At Madame Givet’s assent, Topaze pulled him to one corner of the room. It was clear that Ducellier itched to join the conversation, but Renaudot motioned him away, giving him a reassuring nod at the same time. Topaze glared at Renaudot. “Now, damn your eyes,” she muttered in a low voice, “what are you about?”

“Sweetling,” he murmured, still holding fast to her hand, “try to look pleased. For your mother’s sake. It’s quite simple. I think we’re both eager for the challenge of duping the Chalotais family. Not to mention the money. For Martin and me. And your family.” He glanced about the bare room. “I begin to understand your thievery.”

“Of course I want what’s best for them, you poxy knave,” she hissed. “But not at the price of my virtue, damn you!”

“Lord!” He sighed in exasperation. “I’m not in the least interested in your virtue, your person, your maidenly body.” He smiled, a world-weary grimace. “If indeed you haven’t sold that as well, for a few coins.”

“You villain! Maman—”

“—is, I suspect, a truly pious woman, with a simple heart, who sees good in everyone. And would scarcely fathom the trickery of which her daughter is capable. So spare me your protestations of innocence.”

“You scoundrel,” she sputtered.

He shrugged. “The tiger recognizes its kin. You’re no more God-fearing than I, for all your training at that woman’s side. Now, as to the matter of the marriage. I have no wicked designs upon you. I only wish to placate your mother. If she needs a marriage with one of the ‘roguey’ gentlemen, she shall have it. It will only be a civil marriage, after all. And I swear it will remain unconsummated. When we’ve plucked the Chalotais feathers, I’ll return to Guadeloupe and Adriane de Ronceray. You’ll never see me again. As for you, with your share of the Chalotais money as a dowry, you can marry well. And properly, in a church, which should please your mother.”

“But it’s wrong.” Topaze frowned. It was her duty to protest such a wicked scheme. She knew it. Then why was she even considering the possibility of such madness? She found she couldn’t look him in the eyes.

He laughed softly. “Since you’ve already tarnished your immortal soul with all manner of lies and thievery, I doubt that the minor breach of a
civil
law will prick your conscience.”

She winced. What was it he’d said? The tiger recognizes its kin. Damn the rogue, for giving her conscience no hiding place! She turned to Madame Givet. “With your blessing, Maman, I’ll send Michel to fetch a notary to perform the marriage.”

“Lucien, you’re mad!” said Ducellier.

“Trust me, Martin. I want this girl. I
must
have her.” His true meaning was clear to Topaze, though Madame Givet seemed somewhat comforted by the ardent tone of his voice. “Send for a notary, if you please.”

“Alas, not a priest?” asked Madame Givet.

“There isn’t time.”

‘‘But…”

Topaze crossed the room to the older woman and put a gentle hand on her shoulder. “As soon as we can, we’ll seek out a priest, and repeat our vows,” she lied.

“You swear it, Topaze?”

She glanced up at Lucien Renaudot. He was smiling in triumph. She
was
a
liar and a thief. “I swear it, Maman.”

“Will you be happy, my child?”

“Oh yes, Maman. Monsieur…Lucien has shown himself to be a good and kind man. I’m sure I’ll not regret it.”

Madame Givet looked bemused. “It’s so sudden. I don’t know…”

“Maman, it’s a wise choice for me. And for you and the little ones. Think of what you can do with two hundred and fifty livres! Can it be wrong to take advantage of the gentleman’s generosity?”

Lucien grinned. “Yes.
Two hundred and fifty.
I confess even
I
was surprised at my generosity.” Topaze felt her heart thud. The wicked gleam in his eyes reminded her that he expected a reckoning for her trickery.

Michel had listened in silence to all that had gone on. Now his small voice piped up, his mouth twisting unhappily. “But we’ll never see you again!”

Topaze bent to him and held the small body against her bosom. “Foolish boy. Of course you will! I’ll be back in June.”

“To stay in Bordeaux?”

“To stay in Bordeaux. Yes.”

Madame Givet beamed at Lucien. “Why then, we look forward to greeting you again this summer, monsieur.”

Lucien’s face betrayed nothing. “Yes. It will be my pleasure, madame.”

At Madame Givet’s bidding, Michel was dispatched to bring back Monsieur Teissier, the notary. Topaze noted with alarm that Maman had begun to droop, her fragile strength drained by the events of the afternoon. Gallantly Ducellier offered a small flask of brandy, and the use of his greatcoat to warm the poor woman until firewood could be fetched. While Topaze saw to Maman’s comfort, Ducellier drew Renaudot’s to one corner of the room. By their animated expressions, Topaze could see that they were scarcely in agreement over the propriety of the marriage.

She found herself examining Martin Ducellier more closely. He was extraordinarily handsome, almost beautiful, with soft, sweet features, a straight nose, boyish dimples in his tanned cheeks. A gentle man, that was clear. And kind to Maman. Her heart reached out to him. If
he
had proposed marriage, even in sham, she thought, she wouldn’t have protested for a second. But he was reserved, he spoke little. So she’d be yoked to that devil instead. And despite her boldness, she had to admit that Renaudot frightened her a little.

She sighed unhappily, half regretting the madness of the whole scheme, then shrugged in resignation. Ah, well. Best to put as good a face on it as possible. Maman and the children would be comfortable. And in four months’ time (God protect her!), she’d return to them with more riches than she could have hoped for. She’d return alone, of course, without the husband they were expecting. But seven thousand livres should help to ease Maman’s disappointment. She could always lie and say that Renaudot had died. After the deception that was planned for the Chalotais family, one more lie wouldn’t damn her any further to Hell than she already was!