New World, New Love (26 page)

The fresh flowers she had ordered arrived promptly at seven o’clock and she set about arranging them in the crystal vases that Theodore and Madeleine had given her, the scent banishing the last hint of new paint from the showroom. Then she stood back to get the effect. A dividing wall had been taken down during the alterations and the showroom was now a spacious area enhanced by cream wallpaper striped with green and supplied with plenty of gilt-framed mirrors and chairs. The whole place was unrecognizable from how it had been before. Everything was ready, even the specially made leaf-yellow silk turban that she had set aside as a gift for Madeleine, knowing how it would suit her.

Her staff arrived early, all of them excited by the importance of the occasion, Amy wearing the new russet velvet gown that Louise had supplied. For the winter, spring and summer collections there would be a gown for her in keeping with the main colour of the season, but for the present it had to be in tone with autumn. Louise herself had chosen bronze silk gauze, but had not dampened it to cling to her figure as Mrs Jackson had said many fashionable women were doing in France.

The shop window had curtains across it to hide the display until the opening at ten o’clock. Louise gave a final touch to the cream silk draped over the stand holding the solitary creation, a pumpkin-orange hat with a rolled brim and a sunburst of feathers in all the hues of the brilliant foliage that made the trees such a vista at this time of year. It was both spectacular and beautiful, a work of art that would enhance the looks of any woman, whatever her age.

Shortly before ten o’clock Madeleine arrived with Delphine, coming in through the staff entrance. ‘There are quite a few carriages waiting outside, Louise,’ Delphine exclaimed excitedly. ‘And I saw Mrs Featherstone and Mrs Lucas chatting on the opposite side of the street, but they had one eye on this shop and I’m sure they’re waiting to be first in.’

Her words proved to be right. They must have moved at the first ripple of the drapes being parted in the window, because, as Louise looped back the cream silk folds, they had already crossed the street to peer in at the window. When they entered the shop, both wanted the hat in the window. Louise, seeing there would be friction, explained that it was only for display at the present time, but she would show them other hats that were on the same theme. When they were seated, together with Madeleine and Delphine and several other women who had come from their carriages, Amy paraded in the various hats as rehearsed. More well-dressed customers arrived and the novelty of seeing the hats being shown in this completely new way proved highly popular.

In spite of their quarrel, Louise fully expected Daniel to make an appearance during the day, but he did not come. She had sold many hats and there was a long list in her order book when she took the special creation from the window and placed it in one of the new black and white striped hatboxes for Delphine.

It was then that Daniel came, tapping on the door as he looked through the glass panel at her. She shot back the bolts again and let him in.

‘Did you have a good day?’ he asked reservedly, making no attempt to take her into his arms.

‘Yes, it was more successful than I dared hope. My milliners will be kept busy for weeks to come.’

‘Congratulations. But you must be tired.’ He made a conciliatory gesture. ‘I’ve come to take you home to dine. I’ll bring you back here afterwards.’

‘No, stay here. I ordered a cold supper to be brought in for the two of us. It’s ready upstairs.’

His reserve broke and he pulled her to him, locking her in his arms as he kissed her passionately, her head cupped in his hand, and she responded with loving abandon, tears flowing from under her lids at the mending of their quarrel, even though its cause still remained.

‘I love you so much,’ he declared ardently, drawing back to look into her face and smoothing away her tears with his thumbs. ‘Have your two years and longer if it means you’ll come home to me eventually. Live your own life. Follow your own way. But don’t ever leave me.’

‘Never!’ she promised vehemently, unable to envisage anything able to take her from this man. ‘Nothing shall ever part us.’

T
wo years went by during which Louise’s shop became renowned for its beautiful creations, and her customers could be sure that they would never meet anybody else in the same hat. It also became the place for brides to order hats and headdresses, and Louise began a successful sideline of bonnets for babies, employing two lace makers.

Her relationship with Daniel had never been stronger. There was constant speculation in their social circles as to why they lived apart, some of the women privately envying Louise’s independence, while most of the married men thought Daniel fortunate that he did not have his wife under his roof to check all his comings and goings.

By this time Louise felt ready at last to move back into Daniel’s house. He had been saying that he wanted her to have her portrait painted, but in the meantime she had had a miniature of herself done for him, which she would give him on their first evening together. The two years of hard work had enabled her to prove herself and to feel at last a person in her own right, with all nightmares banished. Before the Revolution there had been a strong movement in France, by women in her social class, to gain equality with men. She had heard that it had survived with renewed force and she found it intensely satisfying that she had achieved that same equality here in her new country. Most important of all, it was the foundation of her marriage in a true partnership. Daniel had never asked her to return sooner than the time she had stated, but now that the two years were up she knew he was hoping that she would not extend it.

She had stopped using precautions against pregnancy. An understanding duchess at Versailles had given her certain advice during her first marriage, when she had become fearful of having a child by Fernand after being abused by him. Now every time she and Daniel made love she hoped to become pregnant. She was soon rewarded and he shared her joy.

‘I’ll be able to come home with you to stay very soon now,’ she promised him when they met to go to a concert together. ‘Today I appointed an experienced manageress, Mrs Saunders, who has been in millinery herself, and she will take over my workload. It means that in future I’ll be able to concentrate wholly on designing and, most importantly, on taking care of our child.’

But their happiness over her pregnancy was short-lived and her homecoming not as expected. On her last day in her apartment she missed her footing at the head of the stairs while carrying one too many hatboxes. She had the sickening sensation of stepping into nothingness before she began to fall, crashing from one tread to another all the way down the flight. Mrs Saunders and Amy heard her cry out and ran to find her tumbled at the foot of the stairs amid crushed boxes and hats. She had knocked herself out on the way down.

‘Fetch Mr Lombard at once!’ the manageress ordered immediately, sending off one of the apprentices. ‘And run!’

Then she and Amy carried Louise to a couch with the help of a customer. Daniel arrived in great haste and rushed to where Louise was lying. She had recovered consciousness, but a large bruise was already showing on her forehead.

‘It was my own fault,’ she said weakly.

‘You haven’t broken any bones,’ he said consolingly. He took her home, where she was put to bed and a doctor attended her. But the damage was done and in the night she miscarried.

At first Louise was inconsolable and then deeply depressed for a long while afterwards. Eventually she recovered her spirits, taking heart from the doctor’s reassurance that if she waited for a few months there was no reason why she should not become pregnant again. It gave her high hopes for the future and she looked forward to New Year’s Eve, when Madeleine and Theodore were holding a ball to welcome in the new century. She hoped that the year of 1800 would bring the child that both she and Daniel wanted so much.

He had been extremely pleased with the miniature of her, but he had arranged the first sitting for her portrait and she had decided to wear the gown that had been made for New Year’s Eve. As Louise was dressing for the occasion, helped by her émigré maid, Josette, she gave thought to her native France. She was glad that the old century was passing, with all the horrors of the latter years. Now a thirty-year-old Corsican, named Napoleon Bonaparte, was rising to heights of political and military power in France and, according to the latest newspaper report, he seemed destined to become a great ruler of her homeland. France had been at war with Britain and other nations for far too long, and she hoped fervently that eventually he would lead her homeland into more peaceful times.

With the last hook fastened at the back of her high-waisted, silver gauze gown, Louise sat down again at her dressing table. Then, just as she was putting on her pearl eardrops, she suddenly shivered.

‘Is anything the matter, madame?’ Josette asked with concern.

‘No, Josette.’ Louise replied quickly. How could she say that she had had a sudden sense of foreboding, as if a dark cloud had passed over her? ‘Perhaps I felt a draught.’

Josette went to check the windows. She was a sensible, conscientious girl with a pleasing round face, silky black hair and long-lashed dark eyes. In spite of having had to flee for her life when her family was slaughtered in Paris, she could not conquer her homesickness for France. She had come to Boston about the same time as Louise had arrived in New York, but had never gained a good grasp of the English language. She had entered Louise’s employ from an American household and was relieved to be able to speak her own tongue with her mistress at all times, as well as to the chef and to another émigré servant in the kitchen.

‘All the windows are shut, madame,’ she affirmed.

It was then that Daniel came into the room. Louise met his smiling eyes in the swing mirror in front of her. He stood waiting while Josette fastened a necklace of pearls around her throat, which with the matching eardrops had been his special homecoming gift to her.

‘Are you ready?’ he asked.

‘Yes.’ Louise rose from the dressing-table stool and took her fan from Josette. ‘This is going to be a wonderful evening, Daniel!’ she declared, deliberately dismissing that chilling sensation she had experienced. ‘Welcome to 1800!’

Madeleine and Theodore had a handsome rectangular ballroom and over a hundred guests had gathered to dance in the iridescent sparkle of the crystal chandeliers. Louise observed that, as usual, Delphine had a wide choice of male partners. She had blossomed into full beauty during the cosseting of her adoptive parents, whose surname she now used. Twice she had been on the brink of becoming betrothed, but in her capricious way had changed her mind at the last minute. This evening, swirling around in the dances, her gown a flurry of apple-green silk, with ribbons in her coppery curls, her expression was smugly triumphant. She exulted in her social success and in drawing men to her like the proverbial bees to honey, and Louise thought it was not surprising that her sister had few, if any, young women friends.

During the evening Delphine snatched a few minutes on her own to draw Louise away from a group of people to whom she and Daniel were talking.

‘I’ve met someone very special this evening, Louise,’ she confided excitedly, forgetting how often she had made similar announcements in the past. ‘His name is John Huntington and he’s just returned to Boston after three years abroad. We’ve had only one dance so far, but we sat out a gavotte in the conservatory. Mama-Madeleine was furious with me over it, but he took all the blame so charmingly that I think she’s forgiven us. After all, his family is the richest in Boston.’

‘I don’t think that aspect would have influenced Madeleine,’ Louise commented dryly. His mother and sister, both pleasant women, were two of her best customers, and socially she knew them well.

‘He’s coming to meet you!’ Delphine clasped her hands together in excitement, seeing that he was crossing the ballroom floor in their direction.

John Huntington at twenty-six was tall and lean with shortcut brown hair and an energetic face, his dark eyes very alert and observant. When the introductions took place he bowed over Louise’s hand.

‘I’m honoured to meet you, ma’am. I’ve heard from Miss Delphine that you know London well and I spent some time there before returning home.’

‘I stayed with my aunt once in Mayfair before the Revolution and enjoyed every moment. There’s so much to see and explore. One cannot take a step without treading on history. But setting that aside, how did you find the present situation there?’

‘There is great fear of a French invasion. Defences along the south coast are being strengthened and regiments appear to be constantly on stand-by. But that doesn’t stop a lively social round in London and Brighton and elsewhere. Now, if Miss Delphine will pardon us, I should like to have the pleasure of the next dance with you, ma’am.’

Delphine beamed her approval, able to see that Louise had liked him on sight.

John was leading Louise back to Daniel after they had danced a bourrée when a servant approached her. ‘There is a French gentleman asking to see you, ma’am. He’s waiting in the Blue Drawing Room. I requested his name, but he withheld it, saying he wanted to give you a pleasant surprise.’

She hurried from the ballroom, eager to see her visitor. Would it be Alexandre making a surprise visit, although he had never been yet and in any case that seemed highly unlikely at this time of year. Was it an old friend from France looking her up?

The double doors of the drawing room were closed and she opened them to the candlelit room, a fire blazing cheerfully in the grate. A tall, slim man stood gazing into the flames and he turned slowly to look towards her. Instantly she stood frozen on the threshold in shock. It was Fernand!

‘Good evening,
Mrs
Lombard,’ he said with sardonic emphasis. ‘I must say I hadn’t expected to find you had committed bigamy in my absence.’