Sable shook her head. “Did he tell you where they’re originally from?”
“He didn’t offer much—just that their parents are dead. Afterward, and I’m not certain when, a preacher brought them from a camp in Mississippi to New Orleans.”
Sable thought back on the evening’s surprising outcome. “Cullen didn’t really want to stay here with us.”
“I know, but I intentionally left him little choice. He’d already admitted the streets weren’t safe for his sisters. They’re not safe for him either, no matter how clever he thinks he is. I offered him the means to stay and to save face as well. That’s very important to a twelve-year-old lad.”
“Do you think his sister’s bleeding played a role?”
“Maybe. At twelve, I certainly didn’t have the fortitude to deal with a woman’s courses. When he finished his bath, he and I talked about why his sister’s body was changing, and how vulnerable to thugs she would be as she grew older. I could tell from his expression that he’d never been party to such a discussion before.”
Sable snuggled against her husband’s side. “He’s really very intelligent, you know.”
“I do. Once his schooling is finished he’ll be a formidable force in whatever endeavor he chooses.”
“Remember Levi Bond back in the camp?”
Raimond thought for a moment before he remembered. “Yes. There was a man who had two wives. Levi Bond married the wife the man didn’t want. She had a passel of children, if my memory is correct.”
“You’re right, she did. Do you remember what you said about Bond at the time?”
“Nope.”
“I don’t recollect your exact words, but you said something like, it takes a very special man to take on a woman and her bunch of kids. Well, I think you are very
special also, to take on three children and vow to raise them as your own.”
“Cullen touched my heart the moment I laid eyes on him. I’ve no idea how close he will let me get, but he and his sisters deserve a chance to lead full lives.” He kissed her forehead, adding, “We can’t save all your orphans, but these three we can. In thinking back, I suppose I should have consulted you before agreeing to expand our family so dramatically, but I didn’t want him going back on the streets.”
“I didn’t either, and your solution is a perfect one.”
Content, Sable sat back to watch the twinkling stars.
The next morning, after Raimond and Sable shopped for clothing and beds for the children, they all traveled to the house Raimond and Sable now called home.
Mrs. Vine met them at the door. When Sable introduced the children and said they were now members of the family, the look of surprise on the housekeeper’s face made Sable wonder if she would quit on the spot. Then she smiled and said, “I always insist adults call me Mrs. Vine, but my best children friends call me Kitty. What’s your favorite dessert, Miss Blythe?”
Blythe looked to Cullen for an answer and he said, “She doesn’t have one.”
Mrs. Vine’s eyes met Sable’s for a moment before she said, “Well, every boy and girl should have one, so I guess I’ll have to feed you nothing but sweets and treats until you decide. How about we start with the strawberry tarts I just took from the oven?”
Sable couldn’t decide which child seemed most delighted.
“Strawberry tarts sound fine,” Hazel offered.
“Then strawberry tarts it shall be.”
Mrs. Vine sailed off to the kitchen, leaving three very stunned children in her wake.
The children looked over the expansive room with its beautiful furniture and paintings, and the irrepressible
Blythe asked, “Is our new family rich or poor?”
Sable looked to Raimond in surprise.
Cullen answered, “Rich, Blythe. Richer than old Master Wheeler.”
“Is Cullen telling the truth?” Hazel asked Sable.
Sable struggled a moment, trying to come up with an answer, before finally replying, “If Cullen means we are rich with love and a family who cares, then yes, we are richer than old Master Wheeler ever was.”
Hazel looked skeptical but didn’t say more.
Raimond herded the children upstairs to see their new rooms. Cullen would have a room of his own, but the girls wanted to share for now.
“Cullen, come help me bring in the beds,” Raimond invited.
And thus began the first day in the newly expanded house of LeVeq.
In the days leading up to Henri’s ball, Sable spent fewer hours doing charity work and more time with the children. There were clothes to be purchased, Brats to meet, and lessons to begin. None of the children could read, but they took to their studies like ducklings to water. Cullen seemed the most driven, and each night he fell asleep atop his books. He was no more talkative or less watchful than before, but he seemed to be settling in nicely.
Grandmere
Juliana and the new uncles did their part too: Archer took the girls shopping and then to his restaurant for lunch; Phillipe took them all down to the docks and gave them a tour of his ship. Each brother spent time helping the children adjust to their new lives, and Sable gave them all sisterly hugs in reward for their kindness.
The night of the ball finally rolled around. After a week of seemingly never-ending childrearing, all Sable really wanted to do was soak in a tub until the next day. She rallied, though, having looked forward to the grand
event for weeks. Were all mothers this exhausted? She wondered.
As the bedroom door opened and Raimond walked in carrying an armful of roses and lilies, her spirits perked up. He presented the bouquet with a sweeping bow. “For you, madame, in honor of your recent motherhood.”
She took the blooms with a smile and tears of gratitude. She seemed to be crying at the least little thing lately, and had no idea why.
Raimond saw her tears and gathered her into his arms. “I didn’t know you were going to cry,
ma reine
…”
“They’re happy tears, I think.”
He tightened his embrace, making her feel cherished.
Looking down, he kissed her sweetly and said, “Being parents has cut deeply into our
discussion
times.”
“I know. We haven’t lectured each other in over a week.”
He grinned. “You’re keeping track?”
“Aren’t you?”
In response, his hands began roaming slowly over her curves. Her dressing gown was open and he treated her bared breasts to a soft, warm palming. “Yes,” he said, lowering his mouth so he could touch his lips to her half-parted mouth. “And I miss you…”
A sharp knock on the door made him raise his head. “What?” he yelled out.
“Raimond!” Sable chastised. “It’s probably one of the children.”
Sable adjusted her gown and went to the door. It was Blythe.
“What’s the matter, sweetheart?”
“Hazel took my pencil and won’t give it back!”
Sable chuckled and sighed all in one sound. “Tell Hazel I said to return your pencil or she won’t get to watch the ball tonight.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Blythe stomped off.
Sable closed the door and turned back to her husband,
who stood shaking his head across the room. His eyes were filled with humor.
He said, “As soon as they can read better, I’m making a ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign for that door.”
“I’ll help,” Sable vowed with a smile.
The road leading to Juliana’s house was choked with all manner of vehicles, all moving at a snail’s pace. It took Raimond’s carriage a full thirty minutes to reach the property. The house was so filled with people one could hardly move. Sable spotted the beaming man of honor standing next to a beautifully gowned Juliana. The crush around them was so dense, it ensured she and Raimond would not get to offer their congratulations for some time, so they headed for the stairs. The children would be spending the night at their
grandmere’s
. No one had any idea how long the festivities would last and Sable did not want to have to put three sleepwalking children into a carriage just before dawn. They would watch the goings-on from the top of the stairs for an hour or two, and then it would be off to bed.
After making certain the children had a good viewing spot, Sable and Raimond left the elegantly attired Cullen in charge of his fancy-gowned sisters, gave the girls kisses and last-minute instructions on minding their manners, and went down to join the ball.
Sable held Raimond’s hand as he threaded his way through the crush toward his mother’s side. They were stopped often by male and female acquaintances who congratulated them on their new brood. Sable saw many highly regarded members of the free elite community: merchants, bankers, business owners, doctors. She and Raimond paused to say hello to the newspapermen Louis-Charles and Jean-Baptiste Roundanez before moving on.
They finally reached Juliana’s side, where they received hugs from her and an enthusiastic Henri. Sable and Raimond stayed beside them for a while, helping to
receive the guests and murmuring thanks for the many well wishes. One by one the Brats made their appearances. Beau and Phillipe arrived with the young ladies they were courting. Archer and Drake arrived alone.
This event was the first Juliana had hosted since the war. According to Raimond, his mother’s parties were fabled. The crowd eventually moved to the newly refurbished ballroom, where they were greeted by the melodic stains of the lively, six-piece band.
One could hardly hear the music for all the happy chatter. The buffet was well stocked with all manner of delicacies—gumbo, seafood cakes, jambalaya, and hopping john, to name a few. For dessert there were fools and cakes and the tarts Little Reba and her new staff had been preparing since dawn yesterday. Raimond filled a plate, then he and his wife slipped out onto the terrace for some fresh air.
There were quite a few people walking the grounds. Inside, the heat was stifling, but out here where a soft breeze blew Sable sighed at the cooling relief. She told her husband, “This is infinitely better than the crush in there. I seriously thought I would swoon, it was so warm.”
“You should have said something. We could have escaped earlier.”
“No, I’m fine now.”
“Are you certain?”
She nodded.
She helped herself to some of the roasted hen on her plate. As she chewed she glanced up to find him watching her intently. Trying to talk politely around the meat in her mouth, she asked, “Is something the matter?”
“Did I tell you how beautiful you look tonight?”
“No, as a matter of fact, you did not.”
“Then let me remedy that oversight. You are the loveliest woman in all of New Orleans.”
She set aside her plate and closed the short distance between them, her gauzy off-the-shoulder gown rustling
as she moved. “Just in New Orleans?” she asked saucily.
He chuckled. “Being humble is not your strong suit.”
Her eyes sparkled with mirth. “You should talk.”
He grinned and stroked her cheek. “I’m glad you’re in my life, Sable LeVeq.”
She placed her hand against his bearded jaw. “And I am honored to have you in mine, Raimond LeVeq.”
He turned her hand over so he could place a tender kiss in the palm. “You know, I’ll bet we can find a nice private spot where we might
discuss
a few topics of interest.”
“Oh really? Then I propose we see the children off to bed at once and search out this
discussion
spot.”
They turned to go back inside, waiting for a well-dressed woman to exit the doors before they could reenter. Both Sable and Raimond nodded politely as she passed. A quick glance at her familiar features made Sable widen her eyes in shock. “Bridget!”
The woman stopped and scanned Sable’s face, then she too stared in shock. “Fontaine!” she screamed.
The two women hugged happily until Bridget noticed Raimond’s cool stare.
“Major?”
Raimond inclined his head in acknowledgment, his eyes hard. “How are you, Bridget?”
“Fine. I’ve been fine,” Bridget stammered. She stared at Sable again. “What are the two of you doing here?”
“He’s my husband,” Sable explained.
“Your husband?” Her voice reflected her surprise.
Bridget scanned Raimond again, almost in wonder. “We
have
been out of touch, haven’t we?”
“Yes, we have,” Raimond answered, “so let’s find a place where we can get reacquainted.”
Bridget appeared to want no such thing, but considering Raimond’s mood, and the many unanswered questions left from that fateful night at the camp, she had little choice but to cooperate.
They went to Juliana’s solarium. Raimond used a key on his chain to undo the lock, then ushered them both inside. He found an oil lamp and lit the fuse. The light revealed Juliana’s blooming roses and lilies in all their exotic beauty.
Bridget began, “So tell me how you two came to be married.”
“I’ve a better question,” Raimond said. “Did you know Randolph Baker was a Confederate spy?”
The blunt question seemed to throw her for a moment, but she gathered herself and answered simply, “Yes.”
Sable felt sick to her stomach. “You did!”
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Would you have left the camp with him, had you known?”
“Of course not.”
“That’s why I didn’t tell you. You’d’ve stayed there, and wound up Lord knows where, had Morse taken you back.”
Sable countered, “I agree my life might have been in jeopardy, but Baker was a spy.”
“Yes, he was. But he also got us to Boston safely, did he not?”
“He did, but Bridget, you should have told me.”
“Why? So you could’ve told someone? I lived with you, Fontaine. You’re too honest. I was afraid you’d give it all away.”
“So my wife was not privy to Baker’s plans?” Raimond asked.
“Fontaine? Of course not.”
“Do you know Baker’s real name?”
Bridget seemed surprised. “It isn’t Baker?”
“No, he took the name and identity of a dead soldier.”
“Now that’s news to me. I guess I didn’t know him as well as I imagined.”
Sable asked, “Bridget, why would you involve yourself with a man like that?”
“Fontaine, I would have gone with old Jeff Davis himself if he could’ve found me a way out of that camp.”