"Disregard what I just said," he muttered. "If he abuses you or betrays you, or something unexpected happens, I will find a way for you to return," he promised, and turned to look at me intently. "I'd turn the world topsy-turvy to get you back at my side," he added.
Was this why he was being so cooperative? I wondered. Because he wanted to be there for me should something go wrong? Deep in my heart I knew, no matter what he said or did, Paul would never give me up.
He went into Pearl's room to get the suitcase of things I had packed for her and then we all descended the stairs quickly.
The rain had started, so we had to ride with the windshield wipers wagging monotonously. As we left the long drive, I turned back once to look at the great house. Our lives are filled with so many different sorts of good-byes, I thought. We can say good-bye to the people we love, or the people we've known most of our lives, but we can say good-bye to places, too, especially the places that had become a part of who and what we were. I had said good-bye to the bayou before, once thinking I would never come back, but I always believed that if I had, it would still be what it had been to me. In a strange way, I felt as if I were betraying it, too, this time, and I wondered if a place could be as reluctant to forgive you as could people.
The rain came down in a solid sheet. Despite the humidity, I had a wintry feeling rush through my body, and shuddered. I checked Pearl, but she seemed quite comfortable and content.
"Isn't it funny how far we will go to be with someone we think we love," Paul suddenly said, speaking softly. "A grown man will behave like a young boy, a young boy will do everything he can to appear like a grown man. We'll risk our reputations, sacrifice our worldly possessions, defy our parents, even our religious beliefs. We'll do illogical and foolish things, things that are impractical, wasteful, just for a moment of what we think is ecstasy on earth."
"Yes," I said. "Everything you say is true, but knowing it's true doesn't keep us from doing these things."
"I know," he replied bitterly. "I understand better than you think I do. I know you could never fully understand me and why I wanted to be with you so much, but I have a feeling you appreciate my feelings for you now."
"I do," I said.
"Good. Because you know what, Ruby?" He looked at me with icy eyes. "Someday you're going to come back." He said it with such assurance, I felt a chill in my heart. Then we turned onto the main highway and sped up, shooting into my new destiny with a fury that took my breath away.
Pearl fell asleep during the ride. She usually did fall asleep in the car. Two hours after we had started, the rain began to move off and some sunlight pierced through the layer of lighter clouds. Paul studied the directions Beau had given him earlier, and less than an hour later, we found the road to the ranch.
The main building of what Daphne used to refer to as her ranch was chateauesque. It had a steeply pitched hipped roof with spires, pinnacle, turrets, gables, and two shaped chimneys. The ornamental metal cresting along the roof's ridges had elaborate moldings. Both the windows and the doorway were arched. To the right were two small cottages for the servants and caretakers, and to the right of that, some thousand yards or so away, were the stables with the riding horses and a barn. The property had rambling fields with patches of wooded areas and a stream cutting across its north end.
Like some chateau in the French countryside, it had beautiful gardens and two gazebos on the front lawn, as well as benches and chairs and stone fountains. When we arrived, the caretakers were busily at work trimming hedges and weeding. They were an elderly couple and looked up for only one curious moment before turning back to their work so fast, it was as if someone had snapped a whip.
Beau was in the doorway before we had parked our car. He gestured for us to come in quickly. Pearl was still asleep, her eyelids barely fluttering when I lifted her into my arms to follow Paul to the house. Beau stepped back, smiling softly at me.
"Are you all right?" he asked.
"Yes," I said, even though a paralyzing numbness gripped me.
Paul and Beau looked at each other a moment and then Beau became very serious, his eyes narrowing and darkening.
"We'd better hurry," he said.
"Lead the way," Paul replied sharply.
We entered the chateau. It had a short foyer decorated with drapes and large scenic paintings. The furnishings were a mixture of modern and some of the same French Provincial found in the New Orleans house. The lights were low, the curtains closed on the windows. Shadows fell everywhere, especially over the stairway. We hurried up.
"Let's get Pearl settled in first," Beau suggested, and took us immediately to a nursery. "That was Gisselle's old crib," he said. "Apparently Daphne had guests with children from time to time. She loved being the hostess with the mostest," he said, smirking at me.
Pearl moaned when I placed her in the crib. I waited a moment to see if she would wake, but she just sighed and turned on her side. Then Beau turned to Paul.
"I managed to get a folding gurney for us to use. No one knows or suspects anything," he assured me. "Money stops curiosity."
"It doesn't solve every problem," Paul said pointedly, shifting his eyes to me, too. I looked down and Beau nodded without a reply and ushered us out. We followed him to the master suite. Gisselle looked tiny in the king-size canopy bed with the quilt up to her chin. Her hair was strewn out over the pillow and her complexion was pasty white.
"She goes in and out of coma now," Beau explained.
"Oh, Beau. She really belongs in a hospital," I moaned.
"Paul can have her put in one if his doctor so advises. Mine didn't think it would matter much as long as she had good nursing care."
"I'll take care of it," Paul said, his eyes fixed on Gisselle. "She'll get the best possible attention."
"Then let's get started," Beau said, obviously anxious to begin before any of us changed his or her mind. Paul nodded and went around to the side of the bed to help move Gisselle, to the waiting gurney. Beau leaned in and scooped under her arms. Her eyelids fluttered but didn't open as he lifted and slid her toward the edge of the bed. Then he nodded at Paul, who took hold of her legs. They placed her on the gurney. She was in a white cotton nightgown with frilly sleeves and a blue flower pattern over the bodice. I was sure Beau had picked it out, knowing it was something I would wear.
He put a blanket over her and then looked at me. "We have to exchange the wedding rings," he said. "I've already taken hers off."
He handed it to me. It felt hot in my fingers. I looked at Paul, who stared with an expression of curiosity. It was as if he were studying my every move to see just what I would do and how I would feel about what I did. I turned around and twisted at my ring. My finger was a bit swollen and it wouldn't come right off.
"Run some cold water over it," Beau advised. He nodded toward the bathroom. I looked at Paul again. He seemed happy about the difficulty I was having symbolically separating from him.
Water helped and the ring came off. Beau quickly worked it onto Gisselle's finger.
"Any other rings?" he asked me.
"No, nothing I wear all the time."
"She changed her jewelry so often, no one would remember anything she wore, except her wedding ring." He started to wheel the gurney toward the door and stopped.
"I'll bring the station wagon to the front. I'll back right up to the front steps. Wait right here." He hurried out and down.
Paul gazed at Gisselle a moment and then sighed deeply and looked at me. "Well, here we are, doing it," he said.
My heart was tripping along so fast, I couldn't catch my breath. "Do whatever the doctor says, Paul," I told him.
"You don't have to say it. Of course I will." He hesitated a moment and then added, "I've already spoken to a doctor about this condition."
"You have?"
"Yes, someone in Baton Rouge this morning."
"And?"
"She could recover," he said, and fixed his eyes on me. Now I understo
od. This was his hope: Gisselle's return to health forcing me to return to Cypress Wopds.
It was on the tip of my tongue to put an end to our exchange of identities.
"Stay with her a moment," he said before I could comment. He left to go down to speak with Beau. Alone with my sick twin sister, I stepped up to the gurney and took her cold hand into mine.
"Gisselle," I whispered. "I don't know if you can hear me, if it's only your eyes that are shut and not your mind, but I want you to know that I never did anything to hurt you and I'm not doing anything to hurt you now. Even you, in your sick state, must realize Fate has taken over and decided our destinies. I'm sorry you are so ill. I did nothing to bring it about unless you want to say my love for Beau is so great, I must have stirred the spirits to decide we belong together. In your secret, most put-away heart, I know you believe we belong together, too."
I leaned over and kissed her on the forehead. A moment later I heard Beau and Paul come up the stairs.
"Just wheel her to the top of the stairway there," Beau instructed. "Then I'll fold the gurney's legs up and we'll carry her down."
"Be careful," I warned.
The two of them did struggle on the steps, but they managed to get her down quickly. Beau released the legs and the wheels again and they rolled her to the doorway. I started after them and followed them out, watching them load the gurney into the back of the wagon. Beau closed the door and then the two of them looked back at me. After a moment Paul stepped up.
"I guess this is good-bye. . . for now," he said. He leaned forward to kiss me. I watched him stroll back to the station wagon.
"I'll be back as soon as I can," Beau promised.
"Beau." I seized his hand. "He thinks she will make a full recuperation and we'll have to return to our true identities someday."
Beau shook his head. "My doctor has assured me that won't happen."
"But . ."
"Ruby, it's too late to turn back," he said. "But don't worry. It's meant to be." He, too, kissed me and then went to Paul's car. Then he hurriedly returned to me. I held my breath, expecting he had decided not to go through with it. But that wasn't it.
"I almost forgot. Just in case," he said, "the caretakers' names are Gerhart and Anna
Lenggenhager. They both have such thick German accents, you probably won't understand them half the time, but don't worry. Gisselle would never talk to them unless it was to shout an order at them. She had no patience when it came to trying to understand them. But they're very nice people. Also, the maid's name is Jill and the cook's name is Dorothea. I've left instructions for your dinner to be brought to the suite. No one will think anything of it. Gisselle often ate in the suite."
"What about Pearl?"
"Just tell Jill what you want brought up for her. They know our niece was coming. And don't worry. No one will ask any questions. Everything's been taken care of," he assured me. Then he kissed me again and returned to the car.
I stood there, watching them drive away. When I gazed to the left, I saw Gerhart and Anna looking at me. They turned away quickly and went to their cottage. With my heart thumping, I entered the house again. I thought about exploring, but decided to go up to Pearl instead and be sure she hadn't woken to find herself in a strange room. I knew it would frighten her. It frightened me to realize I was here.
From the look in Jill's eyes when she came up for her instructions a little while later, I knew she feared Gisselle. Pearl had woken and I had her with me in the suite. Jill knocked so softly on the door, I didn't hear her the first time.
"Yes?" I called. She opened the door slowly and stepped only a few inches into the room. She was a tall, thin girl with a birdlike face, her mouth small, her nose long, and her dark eyes set back in her head. Her dark brown hair was snipped short.
"Dorothea would like to know if Madame wants anything special this evening."
I hesitated a moment, realizing this would be the first time I would speak to anyone as my sister, Gisselle. I envisioned her first, recalling the way she always smirked with annoyance when a servant made an inquiry or request.
"I'd like a light meal. Just some chicken and rice with a little salad and ice water," I replied as matter-of-factly as I could. I looked away quickly.
"And the child?"
I gave her instructions for Pearl's meal just as firmly and she nodded, quickly retreating, seemingly happy to hear nothing else. What an ogre Gisselle had been, I thought. Surely I was not capable of performing exactly like her.
Later, when she brought up our food and set the table, Jill risked smiling at Pearl, who was gazing at her with great interest. Immediately after, however, she shot a fearful glance at me, expecting to be reprimanded for taking too much time or permitting herself to be distracted. It was all I could do to remain silent rather than try to be nasty.
"Will there be anything else, madame?" she asked.
"Not at the moment." I started to say thank you and then stopped, recalling that was an expression Gisselle rarely used, except sarcastically. Jill didn't expect it either. She was already turned and marching out.
I didn't think I would have much of an appetite, but I was so nervous, my stomach felt like it had a small bird trapped inside, flapping its wings. I thought it would be best to put something in it. Even though the food was delicious, I ate mechanically, unable to do anything but wonder what was happening, how Paul and Beau managed the delivery of Gisselle. I thought about the shock on everyone's face when Paul said something had happened and they had decided to bring me back quickly. I was on pins and needles until I heard footsteps on the stairway hours and hours later, and opened the door to see Beau rushing up the stairs, taking two steps at a time. He smiled at the sight of me.
"It's all right," he said quickly, catching his breath. "It went well. Your servants bought it hook, line, and sinker." He took my hands into his. "Welcome to your new life, Mrs. Andreas, the life that was meant to be."
I looked into his eyes and thought, yes, I'm Mrs. Andreas, Mrs. Beau Andreas.
He embraced me and held me tightly to him for a moment before kissing me on the forehead, and then moving down my face to kiss me firmly on the lips.
Our first night together as man and wife was not as romantic as either of us had anticipated. Despite his bravado, Beau was just as emotionally drained by the ordeal as I was. After we lay together in bed for a while, holding and kissing each other, he revealed how tense he had been and how nervous about the exchange.
"I wasn't sure what Paul was going to do," he said. "To be honest, I half expected he was going to sabotage it all deliberately. Especially after what you had told me on the front steps. I began to realize how much he didn't want to lose you," he said.
"Before you took Gisselle down to the car, he went out to talk to you. What did he say?" I asked.
"More like warn and threaten me, you mean."
"Why? What did he say?"
"He said he was going through with this only because he was convinced it was what you wanted and what you thought would make you happy, but if he heard just one negative thing about our
relationship, if I did anything to make you unhappy, he would expose the exchange and reveal our deception. He assured me he didn't care about his own reputation or what the consequences might be for him. I believe him, so don't you ever tell him anything bad," Beau said, half smiling.
"There won't be anything bad to tell him, Beau."
"No. There won't," he promised. He kissed me again and started to caress me, but I was exhausted and still too nervous.
"Let's save our honeymoon nights for New Orleans," he decided.
I nodded and we fell asleep in each other's arms.
Our plan was to return immediately to New Orleans, explaining that something terrible had happened to my sister, Ruby, and we had to care for her child in the interim. No one seemed particularly upset about our leaving the chateau so abruptly. On the contrary, I thought I saw a look of relief on Gerhart and Anna'
s faces, and genuine happiness on Jill's.
On the way back to New Orleans, Beau revealed he had let go of all of the servants in the House of Dumas. "Oh no," I said, feeling sorry for them.
"It's all right." He smiled. "They weren't exactly in love with serving Gisselle, and I gave each and every one of them six months' severance salary. It's better that we start with new people. It will make it so much easier for you," he said. I had to agree with that.
For me, returning to the House of Dumas was perhaps the most difficult part of our deception. it was a partly cloudy day in New Orleans, with the sun only teasing the world from time to time with slim rays of sunshine. The shadows cast by the heavy clouds made the streets under the long canopies of spreading oaks darker, and even the beautiful Garden District with its rich, fine homes and extravagant gardens looked sad and depressed to me.
All of the windows in the grand house were dark, the shades drawn in the ivory mansion that had once been my father's happy home. Absent of any activity in and around it, the property looked so deserted and lonely, it made my heart feel as heavy as a lump of lead in my chest. As we drove up to the front gallery, I half expected my stepmother, Daphne, to appear in the doorway and demand to know what we were doing here. But no one appeared; nothing moved except an occasional gray squirrel whose curiosity had been tickled by our arrival.
"We're home," Beau declared. I nodded, my eyes fixed on the tile stairway and front door. "Relax," he said, taking my hand and shaking it as if he could shake the nervousness out of my body. "We're going to do just fine."
I forced a smile and looked hopefully into his summer blue eyes, bright with excitement. How far we had come from that first day when I had arrived secretly from the bayou and he had met me standing in front of the great house, gaping with wonder and filled with trepidation about meeting my real father for the first time. Now it seemed even more ironic and perhaps even prophetic that Beau had mistaken me for Gisselle back then, thinking she had disguised herself as a poor girl for the Mardi Gras costume ball.