Page 63 of The Unforgiven
Madeline thought she was going to be sick. She sucked in a deep breath to calm her heaving stomach, but it didn’t help much. She’d been too young and naïve to comprehend what Miss Cole had been referring to, but now she understood very clearly.
“Well, we’re all done now. Good day to you, Miss Besson,” Charlotte said, raising her voice slightly as a new customer was brought back for a fitting. She wanted Madeline to leave, which was understandable. Telling her about Miss Cole was a breach of etiquette, which would have been treated with the utmost severity if Mrs. Bonnard ever got wind of it. Charlotte had taken a great risk in telling Madeline.
“Thank you, Miss Charlotte,” Madeline said. “You’ve been very helpful. I look forward to wearing my new gown.” She laid a hand on Charlotte’s arm, her eyes telling the young woman that she would never betray what she’d done. “I’m grateful.”
Charlotte gave a slight nod and hurried away, taking the gown with her to be folded and stored in a box with tissue paper so Madeline could take it home.
Madeline stood stock-still for a moment. She needed to get her feelings under control before going to find Sybil in the parlor, and her reflection in the mirror stared back at her with wide, startled eyes as if she’d just seen a ghost. Perhaps she had. Paula Cole had already been a ghost the last time Madeline saw her. No wonder she’d sounded so bitter. She’d been carrying the child of aman who could no longer make a respectable woman of her. Charles Besson would have married Paula Cole in a heartbeat had he known. But Madeline’s father was gone, as was his mistress and their baby—Madeline’s brother or sister.
She forced a smile onto her face as she stepped out of the fitting room. Sybil would be waiting for her, and George was supposed to join them directly after the fitting. After lunch, they planned to visit several more shops to purchase new gloves and silk stockings, and order a bonnet to be ready in time for Christmas. Madeline had looked forward to this outing for weeks, but now she only wanted to return to the plantation and hide in her room where she could grieve for Paula Cole and her baby in private. The food tasted like ashes in her mouth, and she could barely recall which bonnet she’d agreed to in the end. Madeline was relieved when it was finally time to return home and sat quietly all the way back to the plantation, lost in her own thoughts despite George’s valiant efforts to draw her out.
“Let her be, George,” Sybil said irritably in response to George’s chatter. “Madeline’s tired, and she’s had too much champagne.”
George cast a worried look toward Madeline but didn’t argue. He remained silent for the rest of the ride, his gaze averted from her.
Madeline went directly to her room, glad to finally be on her own. She undressed with Cissy’s help, got into her dressing gown and lay on the bed, book in hand, but she couldn’t focus on reading, not after what she’d learned. She closed her eyes instead and allowed the tears to fall, crying not only for Miss Cole and her child, but for herself as well.
She barely noticed when the door opened and Mammy slipped into the room. She held a small paper-wrapped package and approached Madeline hesitantly.
“Miss Madeline, I wanted to give you a small token to mark the day.”
Madeline nodded, unwrapped the package, and took out a cotton handkerchief, beautifully embroidered with vines and pink flowers.
“I asked Cissy for some colored thread,” Mammy said. “I hope you likes it.”
“Thank you, Mammy. It’s very pretty,” Madeline replied. A year ago, she would have been delighted with the gift, but no amount of kindness could rekindle the affection Madeline had once felt for her nurse. “It was kind of you to remember my birthday.”
“Like I could ever forget,” Mammy replied. “I was there the day you was born. I helped bring you into this world, and I was the first person to hold you.”
Madeline felt a pang of sadness at Mammy’s words. They had loved each other once. Why had she lied? Why had she withheld so much?
“Well, I won’t keep you. You enjoy your evening, Maddy.”
Mammy rushed off, leaving Madeline feeling even more forlorn. How different life had been only a year ago. Her father had been gone for four months, but she felt as if she’d aged a decade since his death.
THIRTY-THREE
MAY 2014
New Orleans, Louisiana
Quinn fled the main salon and stepped out on deck, eager for a breath of fresh air. The dusky sky twinkled with countless stars and the moon hung unusually low, its glowing belly grazing the dark outline of the treetops in the distance. The banks of the Mississippi slid by as theNatchezcruised past the well-developed shores of the river. There were other boats nearby, but the massive steamboat dwarfed them and made them look like children’s toys bobbing along on the waves it created.
Jazz music floated from the main salon and several other guests stepped out on deck for a breath of air or a stealthy cigarette. Snatches of conversation and laughter erupted every time the door opened, and everyone who came out of the salon made a passing comment to Quinn, since the guest of honor couldn’t be ignored. Quinn didn’t know any of them, but she smiled in greeting when her grandmother came out on deck with her nurse. Seth had made sure his mother could attend the party and had hired a nurse to look after her for the evening.
“Good evening, dear.” Rae returned Quinn’s smile. “It’s nice to see you again.”
“I’m so glad you’re here,” Quinn said, taking the older woman’s hand. She didn’t know anyone else at the party besides Seth, Brett, and Dolores. And Brett had introduced her to his mum.
“Oh, me too. I can’t remember the last time I’ve been to a party. And Seth knows how to throw a party,” Rae added. “I am looking forward to dinner. They serve slop not fit for pigs at that nursing home. Were you the one who made the arrangements?”
“No, Seth took care of everything.”
Rae looked confused. “But aren’t you his secretary? He always speaks so highly of you. I told him he shouldn’t hire such pretty young girls, especially not while his wife is pregnant. It makes her feel insecure. She’s having a boy,” she confided. “Kathy wants to name him Brett, but Seth is trying to talk her into naming the baby Seth Junior. I prefer Brett myself. Everyone should have their own name. Don’t you think?”
“Yes,” Quinn muttered. She wasn’t surprised her grandmother didn’t remember her, given her diagnosis, but it made Quinn feel sad. She might never see the old woman again, and it would have been nice to share this moment with her.
“Well, you enjoy the party.” Rae turned to her nurse. “Seth is so good to his staff,” she said as they walked away. “Probably a lot more generous than he should be. That young woman should be working, not behaving as if she were a guest.”
