Tarnished Gold

'I'm sure of that,' I said as bravely as I could. 'All right. I'll see her,' I said, and started down the stairs.

The driver waited for me and escorted me to the automobile, the rear, windows of which were tinted so that no one would be able to look inside and see the passengers. The driver reached for the door handle and opened the door, stepping back as he did so. I gazed into the dark interior and I saw her sitting on the far side.

'Entre, s'il vous plait,' she said. 'I just want to talk to you,' she snapped when I didn't move. I looked at the driver and then I stepped cautiously into the limousine. It had a large, plush black leather seat with a table before it on which there were glasses and a bottle of sparkling water. I was immediately struck by the heavy scent of jasmine. As soon as the driver closed the door, Madame Dumas leaned over and flipped a switch to light up the cabin.

For a long moment we contemplated each other. I could see she was a tall woman, perhaps as tall as six feet, with a regal demeanor. Her pale reddish blond hair lay softly over her sable shawl. She wore a dark blue ankle- length dress with a tight waist and a high collar. There were pearl buttons along the bodice and lace on the sleeves. So beautiful did she appear to me, with her big, light blue eyes and a mouth I couldn't have drawn more perfectly, that I wondered how any man could have risked losing her love, or would even contemplate turning from her, even for a short tryst. I thought I was in the presence of a movie star. Her radiant beauty and sophisticated demeanor made me feel so inferior, I felt sick inside.

Her lips cut a hard, cold smile in her rich peach complexion. She nodded as if to confirm a thought and then shook her head.

'You're just a child yourself,' she said. 'But that doesn't surprise me.'

She pressed a button that lowered the window on her side and then she reached down to take a cigarette from her gold cigarette case. At the same time she pushed the lighter in and then plucked the pearl cigarette holder from the table. She didn't speak until she had lit her cigarette and blown some smoke out the open window. Then she turned back to me.

'Do you know who I am?'

'Yes,' I said. 'You're Pierre's wife.'

'Oui, Pierre's wife. Whatever that means,' she added dryly.

'Does Pierre know you've come here?' I asked.

'No, but don't worry. He will. I have no fear of telling him anything.'

'What is it you want?' I asked sharply. I had my hand ready to grab the door handle so I could leap out if I wanted.

'I don't know what Pierre promised you or told you, but I assure you, none of it will come true.' She took another puff of her cigarette and waited to see what I would say.

'I didn't ask for anything,' I said.

'That's a pity and quite foolish. You have a right to ask for something. Your father has.'

'I know. I didn't send him, nor did my mother,' I told her.

She smiled coolly. 'I have heard how you Cajuns can be stubborn and foolhardy. Perhaps it's a consequence of having to live in this godforsaken part of Louisiana,' she commented.

'This is hardly the godforsaken part of Louisiana, madame. If God is anywhere, He is here. There is more beauty, more natural goodness, than there is in the city,' I told her proudly.

'Oh? You've been to New Orleans?'

'No, but . . . I know,' I said.

She smiled again.

'What is it you want from me?' I demanded. 'Or did you come here just to gloat or threaten me? I didn't plan for what happened to happen, but it did.'

'And you're not sorry, is that it?' she said, her eyes turning to glass.

'I don't know,' I replied.

She softened, her eyebrows rising. 'Oh?'

'I have brought a lot of pain to my family . . . to my mother,' I said.

She stopped smoking and quickly crushed her cigarette in the ashtray. 'I will come right to the point, Gabrielle —if I may call you Gabrielle?' I nodded. 'I would like Pierre to have his child. It's something that his father wants very much, too. I suppose Pierre told you that we have been unable to have children. The failure to have a family has made my marriage something of a failure as well.

'My father-in-law told me of your father's demands and his willingness to permit you to give up the baby.'

'And you would want this, too?' I asked, not hiding my surprise.

'I would like to see my father-in-law happy and . . . I'd like to have a child in the house. We could have adopted, of course, but he or she wouldn't have been a Dumas. You carry a Dumas and that means a great deal to my father-in-law.

'I have come here because your father has now informed my father-in-law that you refused to give up the baby, no matter how much money was offered. I hope to change your mind, but if you do, it will have to be immediately, for I am planning to take an extended holiday, during which time I will . . .'

'Pretend to be pregnant,' I said. 'I understand, only all too well.'

'Oui. That is my plan. So you see, if this is to happen, there can't be any more delays. It will either happen or it won't now. Soon it will be obviously impossible for us, for me, to take the baby as my own.'

'But no matter what you do, it won't be your baby, madame,' I reminded her.