considerate and kind. And she had never made Brienne feel inferior because of her outdated and worn fashions. Instead, Vivie chose to blame her mistress's circumstances. She became very serious when she delivered diatribes-about what a sin it was that Brienne should have to wear the same dress more than once.
"How did your brother meet Avenel, Vivie?" Not wanting to appear as if she were prying, Brienne stood up from the dressing table, and in her sleeveless linen shift and stays she started to pull on a pair of her finest white hose; she rested her slim, shapely leg on the stool in front of her.
"It's a magnificent story!" Vivie exclaimed, and she started chattering just as Brienne had hoped she would. "My brother, Jean Claude, he was shot in the war. He had to walk very far to get rest from the fighting. He found a large plantation along a river. And at this beautiful, quiet plantation he was allowed to stay to heal. And there he met Monsieur Slane, who was . . . ah, le . . . houseguest! But that is not all.
"While he was still very sick, the owner of the house betrayed him. He brought the British to kill him and make him give them information! But the Monsieur had friends who came and took him away to
Virginia
to care for him. The plantation people never found out who it was that took their prize away. Monsieur Slane still laughs when he tells the story of how the cowards had to hide my brother's uniform in a hole in the paneling to keep from being found out as the American traitors they were. You cannot be on both sides of a war, ma demoiselle. Unless, of course, you are a coward." Vivie handed her her purple kid slippers.
"But Master Slane is playing both sides. Is he a coward, too?" Brienne slipped on her shoes, which regrettably did not match the gown, and then moved over to where her gown lay freshly pressed on the bed. She was trying very hard to be nonchalant. Finally she was obtaining some information about the mysterious man downstairs; she did not want Vivie to find her too eager.
"Mais non ! He is the bravest of them all! He has done much for his country. He is not a traitor!" Vivie exclaimed.
"But how can that be? He has forsaken his country and moved to the enemy's!" And how I wish he had stayed where he belongs, Brienne thought.
"Yes, it seems so. But his family was originally from here. He has pulled away from the war for just that reason."
"Family? You mean he is married?" She could hardly breathe while she waited for Vivie to answer her.
"Mais non ! He is very much unattached! What I mean to say is , his family came from here. The Monsieur knew he could not be a traitor to the British, so he came back here for his family and to leave the war behind him."
"And because he had other things on his mind besides that colonial war." Brienne suddenly shivered at the thought of seeing the earl at Osterley. Whatever was between these two men was far more important to Avenel than even that war for independence. She certainly did not want to get caught in the middle!
"Lady Brienne! You are shivering! Come stand by the fire - while I dress you! We must not let you catch a chill! " The little woman's voice pulled her out of her thoughts.
Obediently, Brienne moved to the fire and stood patiently as Vivie dressed her, tying each Of the ribbons along her bodice into a perfect bow. "There!" Vivie stood back and examined her work. Exclaiming in French, she said, "Oh my lady, there is not a more beautiful woman anywhere! You are truly ravishing!"
Brienne looked expectantly at herself in the pier mirror hung across from the fireplace. Disappointed, she saw only die same old girl staring back at her. Her blue dress, although painstakingly pressed to a fine finish, was as it had always been. And although the new hairstyle gave her an older and more womanly appearance, the heart-shaped face was still hers, despite the dusky glow cast on her cheeks from the fire and the sparkling plum shine in her eyes.
She laughed at
"How did your brother meet Avenel, Vivie?" Not wanting to appear as if she were prying, Brienne stood up from the dressing table, and in her sleeveless linen shift and stays she started to pull on a pair of her finest white hose; she rested her slim, shapely leg on the stool in front of her.
"It's a magnificent story!" Vivie exclaimed, and she started chattering just as Brienne had hoped she would. "My brother, Jean Claude, he was shot in the war. He had to walk very far to get rest from the fighting. He found a large plantation along a river. And at this beautiful, quiet plantation he was allowed to stay to heal. And there he met Monsieur Slane, who was . . . ah, le . . . houseguest! But that is not all.
"While he was still very sick, the owner of the house betrayed him. He brought the British to kill him and make him give them information! But the Monsieur had friends who came and took him away to
Virginia
to care for him. The plantation people never found out who it was that took their prize away. Monsieur Slane still laughs when he tells the story of how the cowards had to hide my brother's uniform in a hole in the paneling to keep from being found out as the American traitors they were. You cannot be on both sides of a war, ma demoiselle. Unless, of course, you are a coward." Vivie handed her her purple kid slippers.
"But Master Slane is playing both sides. Is he a coward, too?" Brienne slipped on her shoes, which regrettably did not match the gown, and then moved over to where her gown lay freshly pressed on the bed. She was trying very hard to be nonchalant. Finally she was obtaining some information about the mysterious man downstairs; she did not want Vivie to find her too eager.
"Mais non ! He is the bravest of them all! He has done much for his country. He is not a traitor!" Vivie exclaimed.
"But how can that be? He has forsaken his country and moved to the enemy's!" And how I wish he had stayed where he belongs, Brienne thought.
"Yes, it seems so. But his family was originally from here. He has pulled away from the war for just that reason."
"Family? You mean he is married?" She could hardly breathe while she waited for Vivie to answer her.
"Mais non ! He is very much unattached! What I mean to say is , his family came from here. The Monsieur knew he could not be a traitor to the British, so he came back here for his family and to leave the war behind him."
"And because he had other things on his mind besides that colonial war." Brienne suddenly shivered at the thought of seeing the earl at Osterley. Whatever was between these two men was far more important to Avenel than even that war for independence. She certainly did not want to get caught in the middle!
"Lady Brienne! You are shivering! Come stand by the fire - while I dress you! We must not let you catch a chill! " The little woman's voice pulled her out of her thoughts.
Obediently, Brienne moved to the fire and stood patiently as Vivie dressed her, tying each Of the ribbons along her bodice into a perfect bow. "There!" Vivie stood back and examined her work. Exclaiming in French, she said, "Oh my lady, there is not a more beautiful woman anywhere! You are truly ravishing!"
Brienne looked expectantly at herself in the pier mirror hung across from the fireplace. Disappointed, she saw only die same old girl staring back at her. Her blue dress, although painstakingly pressed to a fine finish, was as it had always been. And although the new hairstyle gave her an older and more womanly appearance, the heart-shaped face was still hers, despite the dusky glow cast on her cheeks from the fire and the sparkling plum shine in her eyes.
She laughed at
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