with someone, but she could not. Her pride prevented her from approaching the girl, so she carried on alone and frightened.
Returning to a familiar routine seemed to be the best antidote for the anxiety, so Lauren threw herself back into taking care of Madame Aberjon. They spent long afternoons together playing cribbage and savoring the delectable petite-fours Marianne made for them. On several occasions, Madame wound up her music box and watched Lauren dance around the room with an invisible partner. The charade amused them both and helped Lauren to forget her worries. She loved the delicate tune the porcelain box played, and she marveled at the graceful little dancer turning round and round on the cover.
"What does he look like?" asked Madame one day as Lauren danced.
"Who?" asked Lauren as she glided around the room.
"Your partner."
"Oh--well he's handsome of course, Madame.”
"Of course," was the woman's reply.
"You know, I was a handsome woman in my day," said Madame wistfully, leaning back onto her pink pillows.
Lauren stopped dancing and sat down on the edge of the bed. "Tell me what you were like, Madame."
"Well," she said reaching up to her hair, "my locks were a deep, brilliant red. Not streaked with gray like now, and my figure was fine and full in all the right places. I had dreams like you of parties and romance, and there were many men courting me. Girls who were jealous said that men only wanted my large dowry, but I knew better."
Lauren pulled a pillow into her arms and leaned forward, eager to hear more. "What were they like? Your suitors I mean?" she asked.
"Oh, there were many but none to compare with Jean-Baptist. He was strong and good-looking and took charge of my needs immediately. I knew instantly that I could depend on him the rest of my life."
"Was he," Lauren paused uncomfortably, "kind to you?"
"Oh indeed he was and very sympathetic. He said that he loved me and would marry me in spite of my illness." Suddenly the smile dropped from her face, and she said, "But father didn't like him. He called him a gold-digger and a moneygrubber. Father didn't like any of my beaux ."
Lauren agreed with Madame's father about Jean-Baptist, but she said nothing. "Are you happy Madame, I mean, in spite of it all?"
Madame smiled, and for the first time Lauren saw how lovely she must have been as a girl.
Josephine Aberjon looked out at the bare trees against the icy blue afternoon sky. "Happy? Yes, I suppose I am happy. My mother used to say, ‘If we could examine everyone’s problems like clothes hanging on a line, we would always choose our own problems back again.’ ”
Madame sighed and slid down under the pink duvet. The afternoon's entertainment had exhausted her, and she faded off to sleep, but her words did not fade from Lauren's mind. The girl pondered them, and for the first time since the incident with Claude, she found some peace.
The next afternoon as Lauren was about to take Madame's chocolate upstairs there was a knock on the front door. She put the tray on the hall table, pulled the heavy door open and to her surprise; Gabriel Lupone was standing in front of her. She smiled instantly.
"Hello Lauren. I am here on a matter of business with Monsieur Aberjon."
"He is not here," Lauren said. "He has not been home since this morning."
"That matters not. I have purchased his pistol and come to pick it up."
"Oh," said Lauren stepping back. "Please come in. I'll get it for you."
Lauren had seen Monsieur Aberjon cleaning the piece in the study and after searching several drawers, she found the weapon. It was a lovely lightweight piece with a fleur-de-lis carved onto the ivory handle. She handed the box with the pistol to Gabriel.
“Is that the one?” she asked.
He nodded and said with a sigh, "I can rest now, knowing Anne will be able to protect herself while we are on the convoy."
Lauren brightened instantly. "Any news about how soon we will be leaving?"
"Nothing yet," he said
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