Pride of the King, The by Amanda Hughes Page A

with a faint smile. "Be patient, girl." Gabriel's expression grew somber. "Is there any chance I could talk to you away from the house for a moment?"
    Lauren looked up the stairs toward Madame's room and back down at the chocolate which was growing cold on the hall table. Madame was still sleeping, so she nodded and stepped out the door.
    There was a funeral procession passing by the house, and the two stopped outside the gate to let it pass. Lauren couldn’t look at the sober faced mourners and grotesquely draped hearse. The driver pulled up on the reins to let the two pass, but Gabriel waved his arm to move the funeral on.
    "You never want the procession to pause in front your house, Lauren. It's bad luck."
    "Really?"
    "I don't suppose it's true, but that's what everyone says."
    They walked down to the river side by side. The wind was strong that afternoon, and it whipped Lauren's skirts wildly about her legs and sent the trees waving back and forth furiously. Whenever Lauren was around Gabriel, she felt like a naughty child, and this time her intuition told her he was very concerned about something. She raised her voice against the wind and asked, "What is it Monsieur? Have I done something wrong?"
    "No you have done nothing wrong--yet."
    He stopped and rubbed the back of his neck saying, "Lauren please listen to me. It is wrong for you to marry Rene."
    Lauren frowned, and she turned away. She refused to listen and began to walk away. Gabriel caught her arm and said firmly, "Listen to me, child."
    She wheeled around, pushed the hair from her face and shouted over the wind, "Monsieur, I am not a child anymore."
    “You are acting like one."
    Lauren tossed her head.
    Because of the wind, Gabriel raised his voice too. "You long for exotic lands and grand adventures. Don't you? You may have these things for a short while if you marry Rene but-- " he paused and shook his head firmly. "He will always return to Kaskaskia."
    Lauren would not look into Gabriel's eyes, but she heard what he said.
    "He will bring you here and bury you in this back country--forever."
    "That's not true!" she said stamping her foot. "He wants to leave here as much as I do. We will make our home together anywhere but here!"
    Gabriel shook his head sadly and took her hand. "My darling Lauren, you are not meant for Rene. This is his home, not yours. Kaskaskia will never be your home. You must move on and find your place somewhere else. You must find your home. That restlessness you feel inside--" and he tapped his chest. "It will plague you relentlessly until you find where you belong."
    Hot tears welled up in Lauren's eyes. Gabriel had no right to tell her how to run her life. She would marry Rene and prove him wrong. They would live their lives together as gypsies and be wildly happy.
    "Is that all Monsieur?" she asked, pulling her chin up and snatching her hand away.
    "Lauren, please believe me. Follow you heart elsewhere. Do not allow yourself to spend eternity in a Kaskaskia graveyard like me.”
    Lauren's heart was pounding. She was the happiest she had been in months, and now it seemed as if Gabriel was trying to steal it away from her. She turned her back on him and walked up to the house. The wind fought her every step of the way, but she was determined to get away from him as soon as possible. Lauren said to herself that she was through with Gabriel and all of his advice. She was sick to death of his meddling, and she was not going to take it anymore. She would marry Rene and never set eyes on that man again.
    That evening after the cows were milked and the barn was cleaned, Gabriel Lupone neatly rolled out a large canvas tarp in front of the cow stalls. After combing his hair and straightening his clothes, he stood in the middle of the tarp, took up Monsieur Aberjon's ivory inlaid pistol and put a bullet into his mouth.
     
     
     
    Chapter 14
    Every time Lauren closed her eyes she could see herself handing Gabriel the gun. She could only