brewing, so the story goes, and everyone was jittery. That evening, not long before the storm broke, Melusine went up to her bedroom on the third floor.The Devereux place was spacious and imposing, so everyone says, and Melusine had a large room with a balcony and French doors that overlooked the front of the house.”
Dickce closed her eyes for a moment, and she conjured a mental picture of the scene as Thurston continued the story.
“Melusine decided to try on her wedding dress, evidently claiming that it still needed a few adjustments. The servant who was the best seamstress was with her in her room, along with Melusine’s mama. While they worked, the wind began to howl as the storm moved closer. The French doors to the balcony blew open, and a gust of wind sucked up Melusine’s veil. She ran toward the balcony to try to save the veil, and another mighty gust sucked her off the balcony and threw her to the ground.”
Dickce’s eyes popped open. She no longer wanted to envision the scene of such a tragic event.
“Mrs. Devereux roused the household, and Mr. Devereux and one of the servants rushed out into the storm, praying that Melusine was somehow unhurt.” Thurston’s voice dropped to a husky note. “But it was not to be. Melusine, dressed in her bridal clothes, lay broken and dead on the flagstones below.”
CHAPTER 7
N ow that she had heard the story of the tragic bride, An’gel was even more incensed that Estelle would talk about it in front of Sondra, Jacqueline, and Mireille. Why Mireille didn’t fire the housekeeper on the spot, An’gel couldn’t fathom.
She would also have a few choice words for Dickce later on, for bringing up the subject and basically forcing someone to tell the story. At least Sondra wasn’t in the room. An’gel had to wonder, however, whether the girl made a regular habit of having a fit and running away from the dinner table.
“That is truly a sad story,” An’gel said when the silence began to feel uncomfortable.
“Yes, it is,” Jacqueline said, looking sour. “Fortunately it has nothing to do with us or with my daughter’s wedding. I can’t believe Estelle brought it up like that.” She turned to glare at her mother. “ Maman , I have to say I agree with Sondra. What Estelle did is the last straw. She has to go.”
Mireille seemed to shrink in her chair, and An’gel felt sorry for her. Mireille hated confrontation of any kind, and here she was faced with one that she couldn’t ignore. From An’gel’s point of view, Mireille had no choice now but to fire her housekeeper.
“Now is not the time, nor is this the place, to discuss it further,” Mireille finally said, a note of iron in her tone. “I will deal with the situation as I see fit, and I will not be bullied in my own home.” She faced her daughter with a defiant expression.
Good for you , An’gel thought. About time Mireille showed some backbone.
The silence after Mireille’s declaration became awkward, and An’gel decided it was up to her to put an end to this unpleasant interlude. She pushed back her chair and rose.
“Mireille, my dear, the dinner was excellent, as always. I regret having to break up the party, but I am rather weary after a long day. I hope you won’t take it amiss if I excuse myself—along with Dickce and Benjy—and we retire to our cottages.” She sent a pointed glance in her sister’s direction, and Dickce quickly stood, with a smile for Mireille.
“Yes, as Sister says, we’ve had a long day, and we belles of a certain age need all the beauty rest we can get.” Dickce placed her hand on Benjy’s shoulder, and he stood alongside her, nodding.
Thurston rose as well. “I have to say, Miss Dickce, that I can’t see where either of you needs any beauty rest.” He winked at An’gel. “But I have to be in court first thing tomorrow, so I’d best be taking my leave as well.” He bent and picked up Mireille’s left hand and bestowed a quick kisson it. “If
Dickce closed her eyes for a moment, and she conjured a mental picture of the scene as Thurston continued the story.
“Melusine decided to try on her wedding dress, evidently claiming that it still needed a few adjustments. The servant who was the best seamstress was with her in her room, along with Melusine’s mama. While they worked, the wind began to howl as the storm moved closer. The French doors to the balcony blew open, and a gust of wind sucked up Melusine’s veil. She ran toward the balcony to try to save the veil, and another mighty gust sucked her off the balcony and threw her to the ground.”
Dickce’s eyes popped open. She no longer wanted to envision the scene of such a tragic event.
“Mrs. Devereux roused the household, and Mr. Devereux and one of the servants rushed out into the storm, praying that Melusine was somehow unhurt.” Thurston’s voice dropped to a husky note. “But it was not to be. Melusine, dressed in her bridal clothes, lay broken and dead on the flagstones below.”
CHAPTER 7
N ow that she had heard the story of the tragic bride, An’gel was even more incensed that Estelle would talk about it in front of Sondra, Jacqueline, and Mireille. Why Mireille didn’t fire the housekeeper on the spot, An’gel couldn’t fathom.
She would also have a few choice words for Dickce later on, for bringing up the subject and basically forcing someone to tell the story. At least Sondra wasn’t in the room. An’gel had to wonder, however, whether the girl made a regular habit of having a fit and running away from the dinner table.
“That is truly a sad story,” An’gel said when the silence began to feel uncomfortable.
“Yes, it is,” Jacqueline said, looking sour. “Fortunately it has nothing to do with us or with my daughter’s wedding. I can’t believe Estelle brought it up like that.” She turned to glare at her mother. “ Maman , I have to say I agree with Sondra. What Estelle did is the last straw. She has to go.”
Mireille seemed to shrink in her chair, and An’gel felt sorry for her. Mireille hated confrontation of any kind, and here she was faced with one that she couldn’t ignore. From An’gel’s point of view, Mireille had no choice now but to fire her housekeeper.
“Now is not the time, nor is this the place, to discuss it further,” Mireille finally said, a note of iron in her tone. “I will deal with the situation as I see fit, and I will not be bullied in my own home.” She faced her daughter with a defiant expression.
Good for you , An’gel thought. About time Mireille showed some backbone.
The silence after Mireille’s declaration became awkward, and An’gel decided it was up to her to put an end to this unpleasant interlude. She pushed back her chair and rose.
“Mireille, my dear, the dinner was excellent, as always. I regret having to break up the party, but I am rather weary after a long day. I hope you won’t take it amiss if I excuse myself—along with Dickce and Benjy—and we retire to our cottages.” She sent a pointed glance in her sister’s direction, and Dickce quickly stood, with a smile for Mireille.
“Yes, as Sister says, we’ve had a long day, and we belles of a certain age need all the beauty rest we can get.” Dickce placed her hand on Benjy’s shoulder, and he stood alongside her, nodding.
Thurston rose as well. “I have to say, Miss Dickce, that I can’t see where either of you needs any beauty rest.” He winked at An’gel. “But I have to be in court first thing tomorrow, so I’d best be taking my leave as well.” He bent and picked up Mireille’s left hand and bestowed a quick kisson it. “If
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