Love's Vengeance

Chapter One

Rouen, France

May 3, 1688

Desiree! Stop that fidgeting and stand still!

Desiree Chandelle snapped to attention with exaggerated obedience. She glared into the looking glass, challenging her nurse’s scowling reflection.

And stop that frowning! You'll age before your time!

Ohhh… Desiree growled, as she searched her vocabulary for a suitable retort. She clenched her fists in tight balls at her sides and sputtered, Ohhh…Pooh!

Pooh indeed! Her nurse nodded curtly. Eighteen years old and I swear you have the patience of a sparrow. Always flitting about, first here, then there, she said in a sing-song voice, while gesturing with a waving hand. One month! she announced, slicing the air with an index finger. One month you've been home from Paris and the well-mannered young woman you appeared to have become…poof! Gone, over night!

What are you referring to, dear Bridgett? Enlighten me, Desiree demanded.

She crossed her arms over her chest and lifted a curious brow at her nurse's reflection.

Cast your eyes there, Bridgett snapped, pointing sharply to a dusty-rose colored riding habit which lay draped over an open armoire door. The delicate hue was splattered and smeared with dry mud. Water spots streaked the last few yards of fabric untouched by the muck. A tear stretched along the hem, leaving a good arms length of muslin dangling limply to the polished oak floor.

You left yesterday for a pleasant ride with Antoine Fabre' and returned in a wild fiasco! Soaking wet! Dirty! Your lovely gown ruined, totally ruined! With an exaggerated shake of her head, Bridgett closed her eyes as if to block the memory.

Desiree wrinkled her nose at the garment, shrugging her shoulders, indifferent to the fact. Then her eyes flashed with fire as she recalled what had set the chain of events into motion.

Not I, but Antoine turned our outing to a shambles, Bridgett! she gasped as her nurse rolled her eyes upward with a wry smile and a shake of her head, Why Bridgett! You don’t believe me?

Bridgett combed through a lock of Desiree’s silky black hair, coiling the curl about her finger while seeming to ponder the question.

Well! You show great faith in me! Desiree snapped. As I told you, we were riding near the creek when I urged our horse to attempt an easy jump over the water and Antoine, fool that he is, simply…fell off! She shrugged innocently before going on. "It was my misfortune to have consented to ride double with the cad, for he pulled me off the horse with him! He is lacking in proper disposition for a young gentleman, if you ask me."

Dismissing the subject with that, Desiree glared out the bedroom window through the lavender sheers covering the window, and to the large walnut tree beyond. Concentrating on the swaying boughs, she tried to ignore the amused chuckles behind her and waited until Bridgett's laughter subsided before daring a look, then bristled, finding herself the subject of a wise and knowing stare. Oh, how Bridgett enjoys watching me squirm!, she fumed silently.

My sweet, Bridgett laughed, hugging Desiree from behind and placing a light kiss upon her unwilling charge's cheek, for as long as I can recall, since the time you were old enough to walk, you have been stumbling from one calamity to another. Antoine and the other boys have bore the blame gallantly, but don't you think, she paused, smiling adoringly at Desiree's injured expression, you would be missing from at least one of these occurrences? Am I to believe they are so clumsy? Dim-witted? When Desiree refused to answer, she continued thoughtfully. Strange how they seem to maneuver around water, mud holes, come in out of the rain, avoid all sorts of obstacles in their lives when they are alone. If they are truly as accident prone as you would have me believe, it is a miracle they have survived this far!

Very amusing, Bridgett. Desiree drawled without malice, but held an expression of irritation carefully in place.

It seems, Bridgett laughed softly, they do quite well for themselves unless you are somewhere close by, more often, in the middle of the fray!

Bridgett leaned her face close to Desiree's cheek, shifting her stance from left foot to right, swaying Desiree side to side, while staring into the pouting visage reflected before her until Desiree's expression began to soften and then brighten. You have a great gift, child, she continued, speaking quietly. Though I've never approved of the comradery you share, you have a power over men like nothing else I have witnessed in all my life. It goes beyond your beauty—to your very soul. Men adore you. Would deny you nothing you asked of them, nor would they do or say anything which might bring you unhappiness or pain.

Desiree thought on this for a moment but her nurse's words, her meaning, eluded her. Adore her? Ha!, she thought silently, recalling the argument Antoine and she had shared before their spill yesterday. He treated her as though she were a child. As though he had no idea she had grown into womanhood. But then, she often failed to behave in a mature fashion, she admitted to herself. Her lips curved into a smile as she recalled yesterday's scene.

You should have witnessed Antoine's expression when I unseated him, she confessed with a giggle. He tried with all his might to stay astride.

I know, Bridgett interrupted. He grudgingly admitted to me that you gave him a ‘none to gentle’ urging with an elbow. But little did you suspect that he would turn the tables on you.

That was a bit of a surprise, Desiree bubbled and then sighed happily. You are right Bridgett, I seem to be forever bringing them strife. I wonder why my friends still include me at all.

I have little doubt they shall be close by for many, many times yet to come. You share a kinship with Antoine and many others, which grows stronger with each passing year.

Desiree smiled and looked to her image, surveying her hair. May I go now, Bridgett? Mama and Papa shall be waiting.

Not quite yet. Now stay still, Bridgett ordered, turning her attention back to her task.

You act as if I'm attending a ball in Paris instead of a casual dinner, Desiree observed, wincing as Bridgett tugged at her hair. Ouch! For goodness sake, Bridgett! We are simply going to the other side of the lake, to the home of my own godparents! You needn't fret so! Neither Francois or Madeleine care a whit about my attire! She swept her hand sharply in the direction of the lake and their home.

Bridgett turned a deaf ear, concentrating on making the final adjustments to Desiree's cascading mane. Pulled back abruptly from her face, it flowed in a mass of ebony ringlets, falling about her shoulders.

Next she moved her attention to the laces of her violet-blue satin gown, which matched exactly the color of Desiree's eyes, setting the sparkling orbs off to their full splendor. The demure décolletage was cut high and square showing, ever so slightly, the womanly shape beneath and her tiny waist was accentuated by the fullness of the wide skirt.

Desiree tapped her foot impatiently. Standing arms akimbo, she admonished her nurse, Bridgett, don't fuss so!

You want to look your best my dear. Just, a moment, more, she hissed through clenched teeth, with the effort of taking in the lacing.

Desiree continued to grumble but moved to brace herself against the back of a nearby chair and waited on the tiresome ministrations. When finally released she pointedly ignored the command from behind her as she dashed for the door.

Walk young lady! Bridgett ordered and then shook her head with a heavy sigh as the door slammed in an anything but proper fashion behind her charge.

***

The rustle of soft material brought the attention of Robare Chandelle to the sunlit staircase and he smiled up at his only child with fatherly pride.

Desiree you are a vision, he marveled.

Desiree plucked and arranged the billowing sleeves of her gown carefully. Are you sure it isn't a bit much? Bridgett insisted on this one.

My sweet, how can you even ask? You are exquisite, he assured. Now if we can but somehow keep you clear of water you shall be the most gorgeous creature attending today.

Desiree watched as he stroked his fleshy jaw, looking askew and furrowing his graying brows as if pondering how to accomplish this feat. Raising a hand toward him in a halting gesture, she rolled her eyes in anticipation of his next words. Fear not, Papa. Bridgett has already seen to scolding me. No need to trouble yourself.

Raising her nose haughtily, Desiree lifted her skirt in a dainty fashion and descended the stairs, brushing past her father. His rich laughter hastened her flight across the front hall to the closed paned-glass doors of the drawing room, where she spied her mother within. Deciding to take refuge there, Desiree swept through the doors but pausing to close them behind her, her eyes were caught in her father's and she allowed a touch of a smile to lift the corners of her mouth, leaving him grinning broadly in return.

Robare Chandelle chuckled as he drew heavily upon his pipe and watched his daughter retreat into the drawing room. The concession of a sweet smile, ending with certainty any question as to her mood. He mused that he saw, undeniably, the same regal beauty and teasing good humor in his daughter which had attracted him to her mother years ago and was still fresh and alluring upon his wife.

Desiree was fast coming of an age to marry, he thought almost sadly. In fact, several formal proposals had come from wealthy French aristocrats taken with Desiree during her year at court. He had, to date, declined all requests, although quite grudgingly. Any one of them would have been a fine addition to the family. In the end though, he had bent to Desiree's wishes, pledging that she would be allowed the freedom to marry the man of her choice. In truth, he was thankful that decision was not upon his shoulders, as he could not, for the life of him, imagine Desiree as any man's wife.

Over the course of the last year, a good supply of scrubbed and ready to court young local peacocks had also been bountiful and eager to try their luck. Some very much bent on winning her favor and one day her hand in marriage, but Desiree had turned each, one by one, from rutting stag to obedient puppy dog, cooling their lust with her irrepressible charm.

He mused, it was as though she were a fair damsel, as Mary the old housekeeper often likened her. Mary…Bah! Always filling the girl's head with English fables and fairytales, Princes—knights—sorcery—such foolishness. But they, these young suitors, did little to dispel the girl's starry-eyed notions. They acted as though her knights in shining armor willing to fight any foe, for no compensation, only satisfying their need to protect Desiree, even if from themselves. As if it unthinkable to allow any emotion but chaste and reverent regard to be bestowed upon the fair Desiree, they raised her high upon some lofty pedestal of their own creation, raised her there by their own hands and in so doing, placed her out of their very reach.

Instinctively he knew it would take an unusually virile, perhaps older man, to resist the magic of his beautiful daughter and court Desiree with ardent passion. The young men of Rouen seemed to lack the experience or the daring to attempt such.

***

Desiree’s slight smile was quickly hidden as Celeste Chandelle turned her attention to her daughter. "Ma Petite, Celeste crooned with a frown of concern. What is the trouble? Are you upset with someone?"

Desiree was not in the slightest upset but sighed dejectedly nonetheless. She could think of no better way to broach the subject of yesterday and thereby lead into the questions she had been pondering since then.

Papa teased me about the spill, she growled, "but Bridgett, that one may as well have blamed me for the misfortune of every male resident of Rouen. She makes such a fuss over the silliest things."

Celeste approached, plucking at the sleeves of Desiree’s gown, readjusting the shoulders demurely. They seemed to have slipped, or more likely been deliberately lowered, to reveal a tad more white shoulder.

You know they mean you no harm, sweet. In fact, I believe you enjoy all the commotion you stir. Bridgett, poor woman, was positively gray when you strolled into the house yesterday.

Celeste’s laughter, like the tinkling of gentle bells followed Desiree as she moved away and pensively meandered about the room. Pausing, she inhaled a fragrant bouquet of mixed flowers displayed upon a treasured Louis XIII table. She removed imaginary dust from the smooth marqueterie inlaid tabletop.

Bridgett told me that I have some power over Antoine, men in general… she turned to face her mother and was met by a curious frown. What did she mean by that?

Isn’t it obvious to you, pet? her mother asked, spreading her hands before her with a surprised expression.

Celeste was amazed when Desiree shook her head gently. But it is true sweet! she paused thoughtfully, then asked, Do you recall last year when the Comte’ de Cheveis was in discussion with your Papa?

Desiree remembered well Pierre de Cheveis and his visits. In fact, she still saw him often—in Paris, at balls or other social gatherings. He was dashing—handsome and young. He had come to their home several times and she had always enjoyed his company immensely. Of course, Pierre is a dear friend.

"Oui, Celeste nodded, but once upon a time I believe he had other objectives in mind concerning you. He never made a formal request to your papa and in truth Robare would not have promised him your hand, your father is set that you shall choose your own husb…"

Mama! Desiree burst out with a giggle. Surely you are not being serious! Pierre? Marriage? Why he is…has never been more than a…a…dear friend!

"Exactly, Ma Cherie! Celeste agreed, taking Desiree by the hand and leading her to a sofa where she took a seat beside her. That very truth is your gift. Because you win a man’s respect, his admiration, it makes it nearly impossible for him to think along those lines. Men adore you."

Bridgett said that very thing this morning, Desiree said wonderingly and then tilted her head, but I have had formal offers. Several offers! Papa has shown me each one received and you know, only too well, the arguments which erupt between he and I when I tell him to decline.

"True, Ma Petite. Your papa wishes you to make a good match. That is my wish for you as well…that you are well and happily wed. But from whom have those proposals come? Take a moment to consider that. A well-titled nobleman, rich merchants, even a diplomat from England as I recall. Many well-established and older gentlemen, who have no idea who you are other than what they have seen of you, and that, in itself, is most assuredly enough for most men. You are a beautiful young woman, Desiree. You would make an elegant and graceful spouse for any man. One who would enrich his life beyond his wildest dreams."

Desiree frowned, considering this. She had, to date, declined every offer, despite her father’s wrath. She could not choose a husband by merely reading over an eloquent document, nor from one meeting in Paris. She needed and was determined to fall in love first. Before accepting any proposal of marriage, she wanted to be thoroughly wooed, to hear stirring words of poetry, vows of undying passion. This set the stage for her next question and she looked into violet-blue eyes as vivid as her own.

Mama… she faltered and her mother arched a gentle dark brow in question.

Yesterday, before we were at the creek, Antoine and I were in the meadow on the upper plateau, talking idly… she paused.

"Go ahead, Ma Cherie. I'm listening."

Desiree hesitated, unsure whether she should go on. She groaned audibly, standing and pacing about the room. I…I… she stammered and then touched her cheeks which were growing warm with the embarrassment she felt as she glanced to her mother. You'll think me terribly wicked, she warned.

Will I? Celeste returned calmly.

"Oui and it was so humiliating, Desiree admitted. She stopped before her mother with her hands clasped tightly together before her and then blurted softly and confidentially, I asked Antoine to kiss me! She waited in tense anticipation for some reaction but her mother's face was expressionless. And the worst of it is, the cad refused me! Have you ever heard of such a thing?"

Celeste suppressed her amusement, seeing the real anxiety upon her daughter's face. It is usually the man who makes such a forward advance. Perhaps you caught him off guard? she suggested helpfully.

Hardly! Desiree spat, then her brow knitted forlornly and she spoke passionately. Many girls younger than I are wed. Some already made mothers! And I—I have yet to even sample my first kiss, except in a disgustingly brotherly fashion. Why? Am I so unattractive? Undesirable? She moved to a large oval mirror across the room and scrutinized her image closely.

No, sweet…. Celeste began, but was interrupted as Desiree whirled away from the mirror, pacing the room again furiously.

He is my friend, he is dear to me and I simply asked him to kiss me…in a fashion that I might know I had been kissed by a man and, and you would have thought I had asked him to commit a crime for me!

Celeste attempted to convey concern and appear appalled by such a revelation but laughter was close to the surface. How ungentlemanly of him! she gasped with feigned indignation.

Not only that, Desiree nodded with new vigor, but he also told me if I didn't stop talking of such things, he would turn me over his knee! Then he leapt up, declaring that we had been out long enough and fairly forced me to mount the horse. He refused to even discuss it! I tell you Mama—he deserved that dunking! Odd behavior—especially for Antoine of all people. Why—he is no innocent! Not naïve! I've heard gossip of his af... She stopped short on that confession. Oh why would he treat me as if I am a leper?

My dear you need to realize that Antoine is your friend and it would be difficult for him to cross that line. He, Rene' Vermillion, Honore' Romains, Philippe—I could name a dozen more! They are all as close to you as family.

Desiree sat down heavily beside her mother, speaking wistfully. I did not ask him to cross any line Mama, only a simple request for a small favor. The same favor he has most assuredly granted a score of women, without their even asking. It is humiliating and so unfair.

Desiree studied her folded hands as tears threatened, until she felt her mother’s touch upon her chin and raising her eyes, Desiree waited for some words of wisdom.

"Sweet, is it, in fact, fair to ask such of him? Of a young man, who for most of his nineteen years has guarded your honor ferociously?"

Yes he had done that, Desiree reflected silently, as had so many others. The memory came to mind of a summer festival last year on the town square in Rouen. There had been music and dancing and somehow she had found herself with a constant unwelcome companion, a visiting cousin of Antoine’s. He had sidled her off away from the activities, where in no uncertain terms he had made known his desire for her favors with a clumsy, groping hand which had found her décolletage. She had been aghast at his vulgar attempt at seduction and had delivered a sound slap, heaving against his chest to free herself, only to feel the bodice of her gown give way as he fell back. She had shrieked, flaying him with an assortment of well-chosen words and turned away trying unsuccessfully to hide her bosom in the tatters of her chemise.

Then from all directions, across the square had come her heroes at a jog, as always, rushing to her aid. They had surveyed the young Fabre' seated against a tree rubbing his jaw in stunned silence and then Antoine's eyes had fallen to her gown. Quickly accessing the damage he had removed his coat with a curse, draping it carefully about her shoulders while the other young men had glared at their foe with rage.

Rene' Vermillion had made to lay the offender lower still but she had tugged at his arm, assuring him she was fine and pleading with him to see her back to the inn to change clothes. His eyes had been afire with anger, his fists clenched ready to do battle but he had nodded, placing an arm about her shoulders and leading her away.

She had heard Antoine's voice, very tight and menacing behind her as he spoke to his cousin, Never touch her again or by God you will have me to answer to.

Although Antoine had been very close to his cousin, the rift caused by that indiscretion had taken the whole of this last year to reconcile.

You have two types of men in your life, Pet. her mother was now saying. Those you don't know and those you know too well. One day, you must learn to restrain yourself and allow a man to court you or you shall have a multitude of confidants but not a one brave enough to give you even that first kiss.

Desiree quietly digested this statement. The same words she had heard time and again from Bridgett but to hear them from her mother gave them added weight. Perhaps she were right, perhaps she befriended too easily.

Philippe Barbre came to mind. He looked to her as almost a mother image, although she was only one year his senior. He had been orphaned ten years ago, at the age of seven and taken in as an apprentice to her godfather’s groomsman. She had met him shortly after his arrival and they now shared a closeness which had stemmed from his need to have someone…anyone to care for him. She could not imagine how lonely he would have been if not for her openness which had brought him out of his shell those many years ago.

But if her mother spoke true, then she must be distant. And what man would she distance herself from in order to spark his interest? Which one could she honestly consider as a mate for life? None came to mind. They were all as close as family. And what would she do if she lost the friendship of even one by distancing herself? She could not bear it, she knew.

Then, too, she had witnessed enough of the sickening ploys girls who were her peers practiced to entrap a man's interest. In the close living quarters of an exclusive private finishing school in Paris, she had found that she shared nothing in common with the other young women attending. They had but one topic of conversation; men, or more specifically the strategy they were plotting to woo one into a proposal of marriage, and she could not abide their prattle.

Her dearest friends had always been boys and over the years she had spent many happy summers romping in the cool murky lake, riding horses, attending social and other functions with Philippe, Antoine and others. She felt a fierce sense of loyalty to each of her friends. Men were not merely a quest to her, not a quarry to ensnare.

Of her closest friends, the four young men who lived within a few miles of her home, three were from well to do families, but Philippe, the fourth, worked, and worked hard, for his keep. Three were vied for by many of the young women of Rouen, while Philippe was given hardly a passing glance. How that fact infuriated her and in itself gave credence to her vehement opinion of most women and their ploys. For Philippe was by far the most appealing of the four; extremely handsome with smoky dark-gray eyes and a sensitive, gentle and loving soul. But that mattered not to those in search of a husband by the weight of his purse or the holdings of his family.

"Ma Petite?"

Desiree came from her musings to find her mother waiting for some reply. No—she decided silently, she would not act against her nature, not with Antoine or any other man. She was not some supposedly doe-eyed little twit, secretly conniving and scheming, all for a man’s unwitting entrapment. Aloud she said lightly, I fear I shall be forced to move to the south of France to find one I have not befriended.

Worry not, my precious. One day a man will come into your life and he shall woo you, perhaps dare a kiss, ask you for your hand and take you as his wife.

Do you believe that, truly Mama?

I do! Now go and find your papa so that we may be off.

***

Desiree found her father in the front hall, pensively staring out the large window overlooking the grounds before their home. She quietly moved up beside him, looking out the window and expecting to see some disturbance, which caused him to frown so.

Papa? she questioned.

He turned with a start to find an angelic face close to his shoulder. Twinkling eyes sparkled up at him lovingly.

What on earth were you thinking about? she giggled, hugging his arm adoringly. You looked positively pained!

I have been contemplating losing my sweet little girl to some man in the not too distant future, he confessed.

Desiree pursed her lips, knitting her brow. To be sure Papa, she quipped, you spend sleepless nights worrying on just that loss.

Do you doubt my concern for you? More nights than you know I wonder on that very topic. He nodded curtly.

That must be why I am forever feeling the lash of your tongue when I decline an unappealing offer to wed! You are simply cranky and cross from lack of sleep. Now it is all clear to me, she teased mischievously, kissing his cheek and with a theatrical flair and swishing of her skirt, swept out the front door, leaving him to glare after her.

Celeste emerged from the drawing room, having caught the conversation as she approached and he scowled darkly at her amused expression.

Celeste, that child is incorrigible! he fumed, flailing his hands in exasperation. Where on earth did she acquire her prowess with a gibe?

His wife touched his jaw with a lilting laugh. "Mon Cheri…I cannot imagine where she inherited that trait!" she taunted wonderingly and then mimicked Desiree’s flamboyant exit, following her to the waiting carriage.

You two are a pair, to be sure! Robare hissed, stealthily stalking his wife’s backside and delivering a gentle swat.

***

The drive around the lake to the Roche’s took the lesser part of an hour. A pleasant outing when compared with the drive into the town proper of Rouen or the eighty miles to Paris, which took days and wore on a body with the constant jostling of the carriage. A light breeze blew across the water, stirring the gold tassels of the raised leather shades and carried on it the soft scent of lilac, in full bloom. The warm air of spring brought a high-spiritedness to the matched pair of white Boulonnais’ and they pranced and nickered merrily along at a smart clip.

Desiree anxiously watched from the window as familiar landscape passed by. The ride seemed interminably long to someone with little patience. She had always been one to run if she could arrive at her destination sooner for her efforts. She enjoyed horseback rather than a carriage, which seemed the slowest mode to travel of all. She felt as if she could dismount the contraption and make the trek faster by foot. They moved along at what seemed a snail's pace and she was relieved when the sharp curve came into view ahead, heralding the more than halfway point in their journey. She could hear Georges’, the driver, above the creaking carriage and horses hooves. Whoa down there…whoa.

The ground fell away abruptly at this point in the road, to a steep gully on either side. Scruffy weeds and wild flowers flourishing in unrestrained abandon camouflaged the severity of the drop to jagged rocks below. On the one side the lakefront, on the other, a twist of dense trees partially hid a newly turned field beginning to sprout the greens of this year’s crop.

The horses responded quickly to Georges’, slowing their gait further still under the command of the bit as they turned sharply to the left, following the lakefront. Desiree was about to make some comment on the advanced state of the field across the road when her words were halted, replaced by a gasp of shock. The silence of the countryside was suddenly shattered by a loud grinding crack, for the world sounding like a cannon blast, but Desiree could feel the jolt under her feet and knew the sound came from below the carriage.

The frightened horses bolted, with hooves frantically pawing at the dry earth and churning up gravel which pelted the carriage as they tried to escape the unknown. Georges’ voice, calm and reassuring attempted to bring the wide-eyed animals back under control but with heaving sides and nostrils flaring, acting without sanity, they could not be calmed. The carriage careened close to the shoulder of the road and Desiree screamed, seeing the gaping gully so near.

Against the momentum pushing him into the side of the carriage, Robare Chandelle struggled to the edge of his seat, grasping the far window frame. With a turn of the handle, he pushed the door open, slamming it soundly against the side of the carriage just as the leather harness and shafts broke free. The horses turned and bolted for their home and safety, while the carriage flipped over and over down the embankment toward the lake.

Chapter Two

The first blinding pains at her temples started Desiree on the slow climb from the black void of unconsciousness. The throbbing persisted until after a few minutes, she opened her eyes, watching with curiosity as white flashes of light stole snatches of her vision as if she were looking through fine lace sheers as she struggled to a sitting position and nearly swooned. Gradually, she came to realize that she was seated on the road with the grit of gravel dust covering her face and invading her eyes and mouth. All around was quiet but for the buzzing of insects and the chirping of birds.

"Mademoiselle Desiree, stay still. You may have injuries, a panting Georges’ implored as he passed by her. You have been unconscious."

I do not seem to be injured, she tried to assure him but her wavering voice was unconvincing. Inanely, groggily she busied herself straightening her bunched skirt beneath her, patting the dust from her clothes, running her hands through her disheveled hair, before it finally dawned on her that Georges’ had crossed to the steep embankment and disappeared. Then it all came flooding back to her; the carriage, her parents were nowhere in sight.

"Mon Dieu!" she shrieked in horror. Without further thought to herself or her possible injuries, she shakily came to her feet and made her way to the point where Georges’ had descended. He was there, at the bottom of the gully, near the water's edge and the mangled wreckage. It was then that she saw the two still forms he was tending.

"Mon Dieu…no…Mama! Papa!" she cried covering her mouth with her hands and falling to her knees. She maneuvered over the rocky pitch by grabbing handfuls of grasses to slow her decent. Her slippered feet were gouged by sharp rocks and grasses cut into her hands like razors as she scrambled down and made her way to the lakefront.

Mama…Papa? she sobbed, Georges’ are they…

"They are both gone, Mademoiselle Desiree. Both gone…gone," he wailed, dropping down beside them in the sand.

Let me see…let me… Desiree moaned, as she knelt beside her mother, checking for a pulse at her neck. She leaned over her chest, listening intently for a heartbeat then stumbled to her father—nothing—useless. They were gone.

With a groan, she sat back upon her heels, covering her eyes with her hands and lifting her face to the heavens. Why? Oh, how could this be?

"I…I am sorry, Mademoiselle Desiree. It is my fault. The axle gave way. I had no warning. I should have slowed sooner," Georges’ blubbered, lifting his hands in supplication.

Georges’, it wasn't your fault. You mustn't blame yourself, Desiree cried dejectedly. It was an accident. But Georges’, you must now start for the Roche’s. Are you able? she inquired brokenly, as she lifted the hem of her gown and began tearing off a length of her underskirt.

"Oui, I am. I was able to clear the carriage as it went over. I am uninjured, he sniffed loudly. But Mademoiselle, I don't want to leave you here alone."

Georges’, she implored, if the horses get waylaid with grazing, no one will know what has happened. It may be hours before we are missed. You must!

We are nearly an hour late already, Georges’ confirmed, watching as she went to the water’s edge and dipped the cloth into the lake, wringing it out and returning to her parents. You were unconscious for some time.

All the more reason, we are overdue. Georges’, go now. I shall be fine.

Reluctantly Georges’ turned for the climb up to the road and when he mounted the summit he looked down to see Desiree gently wiping blood from a gash above her father's eye and placing his hands over his chest. She was blinded by tears and used the backs of her hands to clear her vision, then pulling herself to her feet she turned back to the lake to wet the cloth once more as Georges’ hurried on his way.

***

It had been less than an hour when the thunder of hooves echoed above Desiree on the road. Francois Roche’, Georges’ and Philippe were among the first to skid to a halt and look down to find her seated on the ground beside her parents.

She was leaning against a large boulder, with her legs drawn up and resting her pounding head upon her arms to relieve some of the pain in her temples. She had managed to retrieve a lap blanket from the interior of the carriage and had draped it over her parent's heads, lending what dignity she could to the scene.

Philippe was down the embankment first, dropping to his knees before her. Desiree, you are bleeding, he said softly, inspecting the slight blood matted gash in the hairline near her right temple and finding it was not a serious injury.

I didn't expect you so soon, Desiree sniffed. Georges’ just left a short time ago. She hugged Philippe tightly and sobbed into his throat.

I was on my way to Antoine's and saw Georges’ on the road near the Roche’s, Philippe stated, rubbing her back gently, I went back for help and we got here as soon as we could. Thank goodness you are uninjured.

"Merci, Philippe, she said softly and then bravely, with a deep breath released her hold upon him and looked to her godfather. Francois, Georges’, please let us move my parents out of here and home, Desiree requested, rising with Philippe's assistance. Please send someone ahead of us to the house to break the news. The horses must not have made it home or someone would have surely come looking for us. Please ask that he keep an eye out for the team."

She had risen too quickly and squeezed her eyes shut briefly, accepting Philippe's steadying arm about her waist. She held her hands to her temples until the wooziness subsided, then continued strongly, Mary will need to prepare the parlor to receive Papa and Mama, then Father Beine will need to be sent for and the undertaker…

I shall take care of all the arrangements, Francois broke in, rising from where he crouched beside Robare Chandelle while dabbing at his teary eyes with a kerchief. Don't worry about a thing.

No! Desiree snapped, then thought better of it and rubbed her aching brow with the back of her hand, speaking more gently. Forgive me Francois, but this is my family, my duty and I would have no one else tend to the details.

Francois motioned to a rider and called up to him from the gully. Go to the Château and give them Desiree's instructions. The man nodded, pulling his horse around and kicking it to a run.

Desiree bent down to gently smooth the wind rustled cover over her family and then started for the embankment and the road above.

Philippe, I shall ride with you please, Desiree requested, wiping again at her tears after she accepted a helping hand and arrived at the summit. I believe the carriage can wait until the morning to be collected. I think it would be closer to your home Francois for an inspection of the damages.

"Oui, I agree, Francois conceded. I shall see to it."

A flatbed wagon was just arriving and was moved into position to receive its precious cargo. Desiree was assisted up before Philippe on his mount, while more men headed over the embankment to retrieve her parents and start them on their last journey home.

Chapter Three

Seated upon a settee in the drawing room of the Château awaiting the services to begin, Desiree found herself feeling alone in the world and lonely, in spite of the fact that a wealth of friends hovered about her trying to give comfort. All had been so kind over the past days and were so very determined to divert her attention and bring her momentarily out of her grief. It was amazing to her how she could feel so very alone in such a crowd.

The room, the entire house for that matter, was overflowing with friends and acquaintances here to extend their condolences as well as mourn their own loss. Neighbors from adjoining properties, as well as townspeople milled about, talking of this as well as other news of the day.

Young men though, for the most part, tended Desiree. Crouching before her to speak tender words of sympathy or holding her gently within their arms. She smiled lovingly at each and with a caress or a slight kiss upon their cheeks, expressed her thankfulness for their presence.

It was while sitting at a momentary lull in conversations, when a hand caressed her arm and Rene' Vermillion appeared over her left shoulder, placing a kiss upon her cheek.

Oh Rene'! Come, sit here! she exclaimed, patting the seat beside her. Clasping his hand in her own, she pulled him around the settee to her side. I had hoped you would make the ride. I didn't know whether you would be well enough to travel, she said quietly, so as not to be overheard.

As good as new, Rene' returned softly, while pressing a kiss to her hand with a low chuckle.

It had been just over a fortnight since he had been injured in a most personal locale by a horse he was breaking to ride. Turning his attention for an instant from the animal, he had received a hind hoof almost squarely in the groin.

Even with your, ah, help, he added softly.

She knew he was referring to her visit, the day after his unfortunate accident. She had burst into his bedroom and he had barely been able to draw a sheet over his unclad frame before she had rushed to his side.

Rene', Antoine told me, are you going to be alright? Oh…you are so reckless with yourself! she had fumed, plopping down beside him on the bed. The movement had caused an involuntary moan to escape from his lips.

Desiree, please! Do not jump about! I am in enough pain without adding insult to injury! What are you doing here anyway? he had asked gruffly, then his eyes had widened as a thought dawned on him. And don't you dare tell me you plan to tend to my affliction! He had pulled the sheet high over his lean frame with a stern scowl.

Rene', don't be silly! This is one affliction I shall allow you to tend to on your own. I simply came over to cheer you up and help you to pass the time. I rather doubt chicken broth would help in this case anyway, she had teased, trying in vain to squelch a giggle.

Rene' had crinkled his eyes, sneering contemptuously. Very amusing! Just please, he had pointed to a small chair across the room, pull that over for yourself and I beg you, rise gently. He had covered his eyes, gritting his teeth as another jolt racked his frame with her rising.

She had brought the chair beside the bed and seated herself near him, unconcerned with the intimacy of his injury or the fact that under the sheets he was as naked as the day he was born. The pain had made it impossible to don breeches.

She had contemplated him with a smile. Just imagine the brokenhearted young ladies in town, such as Anna Marie, if you were not to recover from this completely. It could put quite a kink in her plans to have you sire a dynasty for her, she had crooned, while opening a book upon her lap.

Anna Marie! Don't make me laugh! But fear not, I shall recover my former vigor. Now, can we dispense with talking of my injury? It is very personal you know and I feel foolish enough without your remarks. Just read to me…please? he had pleaded.

I'm sorry, Rene'. I'll not mention it again, she had promised, squeezing his hand and turning her attention to a comedy by Moliere’.

It was Rene's turn to give comfort now, and Desiree could see he shared her pain, reflected in the depths of his troubled eyes.

His gaze moved across the hall to the parlor, where her parents lay in state. They look at peace, he offered respectfully. "How are you holding up, Ma Cherie? I cannot begin to express my sorrow for your loss. I cared for your parents so very much."

Desiree absently caressed his hand. I am doing fine…I feel… she began bravely but tears welled up. I can't speak of them now, she whispered with a shake of her head.

Oh sweet, Desiree, let’s go for a walk. Would you care to? he suggested with a tender smile, while dabbing her spilling tears away with his index finger.

Desiree looked about the crowded room and the thought of a few moments of solitude with him was most alluring. "Oui. That would be wonderful."

Rene' stood, extending a hand to assist her to her feet and with a protective arm about her shoulders, they exited through a veranda door.

Birds sang gaily and flitted about the clipped lawns and into the lush green trees. The air was warm and breezy. Desiree drew a deep breath, for an instant the weight of mourning lightened and she turned slowly in circles, looking up at the clear blue sky. She outstretched her arms, as if to embrace the whole outdoors.

It is so lovely, Rene'. Not a day meant for such sadness. I wish I could lift this weight and, I don't know, ride to the meadow or just enjoy the quiet or read a book—simply be with you and have no cares in the world.

She stopped her rotations to find Rene’ observing her quietly.

It will take time, sweet, he said taking her hand and leading her across the yard, past marble benches and statues in the flower garden, toward the sandy shore of the lake.

Desiree looked up at him thoughtfully as they strolled, her observance of him going unnoticed for a time. He was twenty now and although his frame had taken on size in his transformation into manhood, he was still in the midst of filling out. His lean, hard body was becoming muscular and there was a strong, graceful power in his stride, an assuredness in each measured step.

Rene’s eyes turned to her and a gentle smile spread across his lips. What are you thinking? he inquired with a chuckle. I swear it can't be good.

Just how handsome you have become. I would never have guessed that the boy who once enjoyed chasing me, with a worm dangling from his fingers simply to hear my screams, would have turned into such a fine man, Desiree confessed, admiring the finely chiseled features and the flash of white teeth as he too remembered those times, so many years ago.

I seem to recall an impish little girl who took great delight in scooping the slimy mud from the floor of this very lake and pelting her unsuspecting victims as they lay reclining in the sun. Remember, he questioned with amusement, when Antoine lay asleep on the shore and you flung mud straight into his open mouth?

Desiree leaned against him with a laugh. He chased me all the way to the Château before he caught me.

Rene's arm slipped about her waist with a squeeze. I never saw a girl run so fast in my life, as you did that day.

Stopping at a marble bench placed strategically beneath a shade tree near the water’s edge, they took a seat, looking out over the sparkling expanse.

Rene’, I cannot believe they are gone. I do not know how I shall ever get past this horrible emptiness, she confessed softly, looking into his amber eyes.

You will, he assured confidently. Do you remember when I lost my mother?

"Oui. You were eleven," Desiree nodded.

I remember how you came to the house and found me hiding in the barn. We sat amid saddles and bridles in the tack room and we cried and talked—for hours it seems. And I remember feeling that same emptiness in spite of your brave efforts to help. But with time and with your constant encouragement, as well as that of many others, I came to terms with her death.

Do you know what I fear most? Desiree asked but continued on before he could respond. Being alone. I know now the loneliness Philippe has endured all these years. I have no relatives—at least not in this part of the world. It's frightening. I do have Bridgett and Mary but they are not true family. I am so afraid of being alone, she admitted, wiping a tear impatiently. She reached for his hand, gripping it tight.

Rene' pressed a kiss to her hand and then inexplicably he slipped off the bench, onto one knee before her. In total confusion, Desiree stared blankly into his eyes.

My sweet, I cannot bear to see you in such pain. You are so dear to me. You are my closest friend and I love you more than life itself. Desiree—if you would consent, I would be honored to take you to be my wife.

Her mouth dropped open in surprise and he rushed on before she could find her voice, nodding in response to her shock. "I know, it’s abrupt and we have never even discussed such before. But we have love for one another, we could be married right away and you could move into my home. I have a fine house and some land of my own and I am ready to settle down. I would be your family."