Madeleine said.
“It’ll be great fun. Then, after the holidays we’ll have to start planning your wedding! I will be maid of honor, won’t I?” Not giving Madeleine a chance to respond, she gushed, “You are so lucky. Lord Enfield will make the perfect husband. He is handsome and distinguished and respected and…and he’s rich. Isn’t he? I mean, I assume he is, everyone says he is.”
Madeleine smiled. “Desmond has, for years now, worked very hard and has made a great deal of money in the cotton and sugar markets. The profits were wisely invested in various other enterprises, such as real estate. Yes, he is a wealthy man.”
Melissa sighed. “Well, I’m green with envy. He’s so madly in love with you. You’ll be pleased to know that I have attended numerous social functions where beautiful women openly flirted with your blond nobleman, but to absolutely no avail. Lord Enfield’s heart belongs solely to you.” She gazed dreamily at Madeleine.
Feeling as if she had to comment, Madeleine said, “And mine belongs to him.”
“Oh, it’s all so romantic,” said Melissa, clasping her hands together beneath her chin.
The two young woman continued to talk and laugh until Avalina, knocking softly on the door, entered and said, “Miss Melissa, you have been here for over two hours. Time for you go so Lady Madeleine can rest.”
“Avalina’s right,” Melissa said to Madeleine and rose from the bed. She leaned down, pressed her cheek to Madeleine’s, and promised, “I’ll be back to see you real soon.”
Lord Enfield’s many business interests required all of his time and attention during the daylight hours. But he visited the Royal Street town house and his cherished fiancée each evening. Taking care not to overstay his welcome and tire his bride-to-be, he would ascend the stairs to her bedroom every evening, bringing with him a bouquet of fresh-cut flowers, or a book, or a box of bonbons. He would pull up a chair and visit with Madeleine, gently holding her hand and smiling at her as they talked quietly together.
Concern for her welfare always uppermost in his mind, the lord never stayed longer than an hour or two. And when it was time for him to depart, he would lean down and brush a brief kiss to her forehead or her cheek.
“I love you so much it hurts to leave you,” he’d whisper. “But I want you to get plenty of rest, so I’ll go now.”
Madeleine was touched by his thoughtfulness. Most men would have already been pressing her for intimate kisses and caresses, but the blond nobleman was chivalrous. He realized fully that she was not yet well enough to be receptive to displays of passion.
His unfailing kindness and astute understanding caused Madeleine to suffer even greater bouts of guilt. It would have been easier if he had behaved the impatient male and attempted to make love to her. Then she could have blamed him for being so unfeeling and intolerant.
As it was, she could blame him for nothing. He was consistently the empathetic, compassionate fiancé who cared only for her well-being. She was, she knew, a most fortunate woman to have such discerning gentleman eager to make her his wife.
Nonetheless, when Lord Enfield was not there with her, when Madeleine was alone, her thoughts unfailingly returned to the darkly handsome Creole who had gone down with the sinking ship. Armand de Chevalier was, she knew, dead. She knew, as well, that she would never completely forget him.
Fortunately, Madeleine was seldom left alone to brood. Overjoyed to have her in his home, her uncle Colfax spent long hours with her, talking, reminiscing, enthusiastically discussing her upcoming marriage to Lord Enfield.
On a hot, sunny day in early September after spending a full week in bed, Madeleine awakened feeling rested and eager to get up. She reached out and pulled the bell cord that would summon Avalina.
When the woman appeared, Madeleine said, “I can stand this bed no longer. I want to get up. I am feeling well enough to join Uncle Colfax downstairs for breakfast.”
Indulgent, Avalina smiled. “The master will be delighted and I will fix something special for the momentous occasion.”
Shortly before 9:00 a.m., Madeleine, aided by the stalwart Avalina, descended the stairs. Colfax waited at the base. When the two women reached him, Avalina turned and hurried downstairs to her kitchen, while Colfax ushered his niece into his paneled, book-lined study.
“Are you sure you feel like being up?” he asked, noting that she was still quite pale.
“I’m fine, Uncle Colfax, really I am.”
“Well, then we’ve a few minutes before Avalina calls us to breakfast and there’s something I want to show you.”
He led her across the carpeted study to where a portrait of LaFayette hung directly behind his mahogany desk. While she watched, curious, he slid the heavy portrait aside to reveal a hidden wall safe. A small round safe with a heavy bronze door.
“I keep my most valuable documents here,” he explained, then beckoned her forward. “I will tell you the combination and I want you to open the safe.”
When she had opened the safe, Madeleine stepped back. Colfax reached inside and withdrew a legal-looking vellum document. He handed it to her.
“My last will and testament,” he explained. As Madeleine unfolded and skimmed the document, he said, “Upon my death everything I own will belong to you, and as you surely know, I have accumulated a vast fortune over the years.” He smiled then and added, “Fortunately, we live in Louisiana, the only state in America where a woman can own property. Much of my fortune in is real estate holdings.”
Madeleine looked up and handed the will back without reading further. With a smile she said, “Uncle, let’s not talk about wills and dying. You are going to be around for at least another twenty or thirty years!”
“Perhaps,” he said, but with little conviction.
Madeleine noticed and asked, “Uncle Colfax, you’re not…you’re not ill, are you?” Worriedly, she studied his face.
“No, no, child,” he quickly assured her. “I’m in excellent health.”
He returned the will to the wall safe, but withdrew a second document. He began to smile as he told her that it was a provisional will that he had had drawn up some eight or nine years ago.
“You were,” he explained, “a rather flighty young woman then, as I fondly recall, and I wanted to make certain that you would be protected.” Madeleine stared at him, her eyes questioning. He continued, “As you well know, Lord Enfield has been a loyal, trusted friend almost from the minute our cousin arrived in New Orleans. I realized back then—well before the two of you discovered each other and became engaged—that he was an honorable, trustworthy man who would, I felt confident, look after your best interests.”
She nodded her agreement.
“So I wrote up a provisional will making Chilton coexecutor along with a couple of other old friends, giving the three of them total control over my estate, on your behalf.” Colfax frowned then and added, “Unfortunately, the other two gentlemen have since passed away.” He shook his graying head, then continued, “But I digress. The provisional will remained in effect for seven years. Then, a few months before you and Lord Enfield fell in love and decided to marry, I drafted my last will and testament making you the sole heir.”
She smiled at him and said, “As usual, you left no stone unturned. My inheritance had been protected all these years.”
“Indeed it has,” he replied. “Now I want you to memorize the safe’s combination.”
“I already have,” she said and then proved it by flawlessly reciting it.
He beamed with pride and said, “You always were a very clever girl.”
She slid her hand around his arm and said, “Well, of course, I am. I take after my brilliant uncle.”