Zoe Read online

  She would always remember the day of her wedding and its attendant celebrations as one of the happiest of her life, but it was a day of bittersweet sadness, too. When she’d envisioned this day, it had always been with her father and Marianne at her side. Their absence was a painful reminder of what happiness had cost her.

  She’d once dreamt of a large wedding, but with her father dead, she didn’t see the point. Thoughts of him reminded her of her other loss, Jean-Claude. She had La Roque send the boy’s remains to Marguerite for proper burial, but hadn’t attended the funeral.

  Six weeks later, the time to return had come. As the carriage drew up to the château, Zoé thought how

  small it looked. It had seemed so big and protective when she was a child. She thought of the last time she’d seen it, when a man who was intent upon destroying her had torn her from it, and how her stepmother had been his willing ally. She’d wondered then whether she would ever see it again.

  She sat back in her seat and adjusted the soft, rich folds of her grey cashmere hooded cape. The hood was so large that it covered her face, leaving it completely in shadow. Underneath the cape, she wore a soft blue gown that Gianelli had picked out.

  She sensed him sitting next to her. He was dressed in a gentlemen’s suit that was the same shade of grey as her cape. Her eyes traced his handsome profile and her heart leapt with love for him. She’d never imagined she could be so happy. Another memory surfaced, this one of the first time she’d seen his home. How forbidding it had looked and how she’d wondered at the nature of the man who inhabited it. Now, she knew.

  Gianelli glanced down at her and smiled.

  She asked, “What are you thinking?

  “How much I love you.” He gave her a kiss, then looked

  out the window and nodded at the front door. “You’re sure you’re ready for this? ” “Quite ready.” She arched an eyebrow. “The question is, will Madame be surprised? ”

  “Not at all,” he laughed. “I’m sure she won’t.”

  The carriage came to a halt and seconds later, LaRoque’s footman opened the door. Zoé and Gianelli gave each other another kiss, and stepped out. As they walked to the house, her mien was thoughtful, her hands clasped within her grey fur muff. Her long, rounded skirt swayed under her graceful cape. Her movements were slow and deliberate. Everything she would do today would be deliberate.

  La Roque, unaccustomed to waiting, used the large doorknocker to announce their presence. Zoé kept her head bowed, her face in shadow. Who, she wondered, would open the door? Marguerite or—

  It was Madame herself.

  Zoé couldn’t see, but she could hear her stepmother’s surprise. “Mon seigneur? ” she heard her ask.

  Zoé slowly raised her head, revealing her face. “Good day, Madame.”

  Madame fell back a step, clutching her chest. Zoé walked inside and pushed back her hood. Her rich black locks bounced into view.

  “Aren’t you glad to see me? ” she asked.

  Madame’s gaze went to La Roque. “Why did you bring her here? ” she gasped.

  “Don’t speak to my husband that way,” Zoé said.

  “Your what?”

  Zoé raised her hand to display the ring La Roque had placed there. Madame put her hand to her throat and uttered an inarticulate cry.

  Marguerite came around the corner and down the foyer. She stopped at the sight in the entryway. “Zoé? Is it really you? ”

  “Oui, mon amie. C’est moi.”

  Zoé went to her with arms outstretched. Marguerite hugged her tightly.

  “I thought I would never see you again.” Marguerite patted her on the back, then let her go and held her away. “I have some very distressing news: Jean-Claude is dead.”

  Zoé held onto her. “I know.”

  Marguerite’s eyes filled with tears of love and relief. She gave the Comte a look of gratitude. “I’m so glad you found her. But where have you been? ”

  Zoé looked back at La Roque and smiled. “Off getting married,” she said, beaming.

  Marguerite’s mouth formed a perfect O of surprise. She looked at La Roque, who was leaning against the wall, smiling sexily. “Oh, my goodness!”

  Zoé took Marguerite by the hand. “It was I who had him send Jean-Claude’s body home. I’m so sorry I wasn’t here with you to bury him, but I had to attend to some things.”

  The joy on Marguerite’s face faded. “There’s something else I have to tell you. It’s about Marianne. She’s—”

  “I know.” Zoé squeezed Marguerite’s hand.

  “You do? ” said Madame.

  Zoé turned on her stepmother. “Oh, I wasn’t surprised that you married her off to Claude Chafer so quickly. I was actually glad that she was out of your clutches. Claude is a good man.”

  Madame huffed. “Well, actually he’s a good poor man. He exaggerated his worth.”

  Zoé walked up to her, peeling off her other glove. “And that bothered you, didn’t it, that you weren’t able to profit from your daughter’s nuptials? ”

  “Marianne deserves better, but when I tried to stop them, they went off and married without my consent. Now she’ll spend the rest of her life living like some commoner!” “Actually, she won’t, but you will.”

  Zoé’s smile was icy. Madame sputtered.

  “Wha-what are you talking? ”

  Zoé looked back over her shoulder at her Gianelli. “If you don’t mind.”

  La Roque reached inside his topcoat and retrieved a yellow crepe envelope. He went to Zoé, kissed her on her forehead and placed the document in her hands.

  “What is this about? ” Madame asked.

  Zoé ran her fingers over the envelope. “It’s my wedding gift to Marianne, and it’s why I didn’t make it here in time for her elopement, although I heard all about it. If you weren’t so hateful and full of greed you would have seen the beautiful ceremony that all of Narbonne was talking about.”

  Madame was livid. “Get out of my house! I won’t let you taunt me in my own home! Get out!”

  “But that’s just it,” Zoé laughed. “It’s no longer your home.”

  Madame’s jaw dropped open. “What? ”

  “God bless Papa’s soul. He was a good man, but not such a good businessman. He constantly overextended himself, mostly because of us. But you know this already.”

  Madame watched her with tight, worried eyes. Zoé began to walk in a slow circle around her.

  “To keep the business open, and you in your fancy dresses, he mortgaged this house and his family’s land to the bank.”

  “But I have paid off the balance. Monsieur Sheridan’s money, it—”

  “Ah yes, the blood money. You did pay creditors with that, didn’t you? ”

  “You have no right to criticize. None. And I have no time for this. I—”

  “You’re right. You don’t. Have time, I mean. You only have one hour in fact. Exactly one.”

  “What are you talking about? ”

  Zoé stopped. “Imagine how surprised the bank was to know that you and Monsieur Sheridan stole from my husband. You used the money to pay down the mortgage on our family home and gain credit for father’s business to remain open.”

  “Are you mad? I did no such—”

  “Be quiet!” Zoé said.

  Madame was shocked into silence. She glanced at La Roque and colored to see his expression of amusement. Glancing at Marguerite, she received a withering look of contempt. She turned back to her stepdaughter.

  “Zoé,” she began. “I want-I demand that—”

  “Don’t you understand? The bank has signed it all over to mon cher seigneur le Comte—” she batted her eyelashes at her husband and he raised his eyebrows merrily to her “—who has signed it all over to me! They couldn’t deal with the scandal.” She brought her face close to Madame’s. “You will get your things and be out of here and you will do so within the hour.”

  “You can’t—”

  “I just did.
Now, please, please, do me the favor of disobeying me so I can have the pleasure of tossing you out on your ass!”

  Madame burst into tears. “What are you doing? Marianne would never agree to this!”

  “I believe she will.”

  Zoé pushed the copy of Madame’s eviction notice against the woman’s chest, forcing her to take it. Madame unfolded it and read it with shaking hands. She grabbed hold of the banister to steady herself.

  “Won’t you show me some pity? ” Madame asked Zoé. “After all, I raised you. I—”

  “You tricked my father into marrying and as much as killed my mother. Once Papa was dead, you sold me to serve as some man’s whore. I will show you as much pity as you showed us. That is to say, none.”

  Madame sagged to her knees, pale with shock.

  Zoé put her hood back on. She turned to Marguerite. “Get her things packed and put them out the door. She is to take nothing but her clothes. I will be back within an hour and I don’t want her here.”

  Zoé turned and headed for the door.

  “You evil, spiteful girl!” Madame called after her. “May God have mercy on your soul!”

  Zoé spun around. “Thank you, and may the devil have his day with yours!”

  La Roque tipped his hat to Madame, gave her a charming smile, and then gave Zoé his arm as they both walked out the door.

  EF Marianne got out of bed, her long golden locks all around her head. Claude reached for her.

  “Where are you going, princesse? ” He tried to pull her back to bed to make love to her again.

  She giggled. “To make lunch for you!”

  He was stunned. “You can cook? ”

  “Très drôle.” Marianne grabbed her heavy velvet robe, slipped it over her nakedness and cinched it around her waist. Marguerite had been coming over helping her prepare meals while he was at work.

  “I am your wife,” she said, “and I shall take care of you. Marguerite has taught me some things.”

  He sat up and looked into her emerald green eyes. “I’m so proud of you,” he said, “of how you have taken to my humble way of life without complaint. You are so remarkably wonderful to me.”

  Marianne came back to the bed and sat down next to him. For a moment, she was silent. “I didn’t think that I could be happy again,” she said finally. “Losing my family made me feel so empty inside. In two weeks, you have shown me that I can have a life of my own.”

  She leaned down and kissed him. “I will take care of you. Our love, although new, is the truest thing that I have now.”

  He reached up and moved the long curls that hung down into his face over her shoulder. “We shall take care of each other, sweet Marianne.”

  Pulling her to him, he kissed her deeply. She had spent the past several days discovering her own body’s desires. She hadn’t known pleasure and pain could intertwine the way it did. Now her virginity was gone and her body responded to him like that of a woman. She was discovering new depths of pleasure and passion by experiencing the power of being loved by a man like him.

  He drew her down onto the bed and rolled her over. She arched her back as he opened her robe and kissed her delicate porcelain skin. She watched him gaze at her plump, milky breasts.

  “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered. “I can’t believe you’re mine.”

  He closed his mouth over her right breast and swirled his warm, wet tongue over her nipple. She gasped at the sensation. He parted her velvet robe even more so that he could run his hand over her silky skin.

  Biting her lip, she moaned, “Take me, take me, mon amour.”

  It was all he needed to hear. He mounted her and eased his way inside. She closed her eyes and clung to him. Her body trembled under the power of his demands. He held her tightly as he always did when they made love and it made her melt into him.

  “I love you,” he whispered.

  Marianne’s eyes opened. She was loved. She had someone and he was all hers. Grasping his head, she kissed the side of his face. “I love you, too. Oh, how I love you!”

  Afterward, he held her and whispered of the things they’d do and places they’d see once he had secured their financial future. She listened to him, his deep voice lulling her to sleep. Having her sister back would be all she needed to make her life perfect.

  There was a knock at the door.

  They exchanged startled glances. Who could it be? It was Sunday and most of the villagers were at Mass. They shouldn’t be having visitors.

  Claude got up and retrieved his robe. Marianne sat up, clutching the sheet to her bare chest. She watched him walk over to the window, pull back the thin white lace curtain and look out. She swiped her long hair from her face.

  “Who is it? ”

  “I don’t know, but I think you should put something on. It looks like a formal visit.”

  She jumped up and grabbed the gown she’d thrown across her chair. Slipping it on, she watched him dress as well. They laughed, bumping into each other as they raced around the room, searching for their clothes. As they stumbled into their shoes, the knocks grew more insistent.

  Dressed, they raced down the stairs, Claude still buttoning his shirt and Marianne trying to pull up her hair. Laughing, they pushed each other aside to open the door. Claude got the better of her, ran to the door and opened it. His laughter died and his smile faded.

  Marianne couldn’t see who it was, but she saw his reaction. She walked up, wondering, and then she, too, froze with surprise.

  There was La Roque, standing there with a woman wearing a hooded cape and her head down. Something about her seemed so familiar…

  She lifted her head and Marianne gasped. “Mon Dieu!”

  Zoé opened her arms as her sister rushed into them.

  “Zoé! Zoé!” Marianne cried, hugging Zoé tightly.

  “Marianne! Let go. I can’t breathe,” Zoé choked.

  Marianne released Zoé, held her away for a moment, and then hugged her again. “Mon Dieu! Mon Dieu!” she kept whispering through tears of joy.

  Claude was speechless. When La Roque extended his hand and said, “I guess we’re family,” Claude shook it, but blinked, confused. “Family? ”

  Marianne let go of Zoé and also repeated in bewilderment, “Family?”

  “Oui,” said Zoé. “We’re married, just like you.”

  “You are? ”

  Zoé nodded.

  Claude stepped aside. “Come inside, everybody.”

  “Yes, do,” Marianne said, pulling Zoé along.

  Marianne cleared off a place for them to sit in their modest living area. She saw the smiles and glances of love shared between her sister and La Roque and felt happy for them. She had castigated herself many times over for not having given Zoé a chance to explain, for having run to Papa, weeping and wailing, so that he too was so outraged he would not listen. She was happy to realize that she felt no jealousy either. She was simply happy–happy to have Zoé back again, happy to see her with the count, and happy herself to have someone as wonderful as Claude.

  Marianne asked Zoé a million questions and listened with widening eyes to Zoé’s tale. Although Zoé told her a great deal, Marianne sensed that her sister held back. There were details that perhaps they would only discuss in private. She was sure that nothing was left out about Zoé’s wedding, however. It was wonderful to hear all the details. If only she could’ve been there.

  “Why didn’t you tell me that you were back? I could have stood up for you at your wedding? Zoé, you weren’t even present at mine!”

  “I’m sorry, but I wanted to wait until my wedding present for you had been finalized.”

  “Wedding present? ” Marianne perked up.

  It was then that Zoé told them of her visit to Madame. When she was done, she reached into her muff, pulled out a folded envelope and passed it to Claude. He opened it and leaned toward Marianne, so they could read it together.

  “The château and Papa’s fishing company are now part of
your dowry and go to your husband. You can move into the house as soon as you like.”

  “Oh, my!” Marianne gasped.

  “What about Madame? ” Claude asked.

  Zoé’s expression hardened. “My only stipulation is that she never set foot on the property.”

  “But Zoé, she’s my mother!”

  Zoé gave an elegant shrug. “I know, and if you two choose to show her kindness, I can do nothing about it. However, I forbid her to step foot on Bouchard land or business properties. It’s what she deserves and it’s non-negotiable.”

  Claude looked at Marianne, who blinked away tears. She couldn’t blame Zoé, and she had to admit that she, too, hated her mother for what she’d done and wanted some degree of revenge. She felt ashamed of those thoughts. Then, she looked up into her husband’s face and saw how happy this would make him.

  “Agreed,” she said.

  Claude pulled her to him and kissed her as Zoé laid her head on La Roque’s chest. Marianne said a silent prayer of gratitude. She had her Zoé back and that was a miracle.

  Toulouse, France – April, 1829

  She moaned softly and turned her face toward his. She felt him lean over and kiss her lips softly. Still tired, she opened her eyes sleepily and looked up at him. He was propped up on one elbow, studying her.

  “What is it? ” she asked, caressing his face.

  “I couldn’t sleep.”

  She touched his forehead. “Are you feeling well? ”

  He smiled. “You’ve changed my life in so many ways.”

  “We are connected. We belong together. I know that sometimes frightens you, but I know that our love will always sustain us both.”

  He lowered himself to her, rolling her onto her back. She closed her eyes as she felt his tongue slip into her mouth. The taste of him was always the best part, next to actually having him inside of her. Feeling his strong hands travel down her body, she sighed under his kisses and waited for him to take her in the now familiar way.

  “I love you,” he whispered.

  “And I you,” she said as he parted her legs and entered her. She didn’t understand why God had shown her such favor, but she was eternally grateful that He had. Being in her husband’s arms was the safest place in the world.