Lyn Cote's Blog, page 96

Lyn Reviews DiAnn Mills' The Fire in Ember

The Fire in Ember: A Novel by DiAnn Mills

My rating: 4 of 5 stars

The Fire in Ember by DiAnn Mills features one of her signature bull-headed heroes who thinks he has to take care of the world. And her heroine Ember is a waif, not sure she can defeat the demons who plague her in her mind and in reality. But she won't give in and just fade away. If you enjoy a good Western with a stubbon hero and cattle rustlers, this is the book for you!

View all my reviews

Chapter Twenty-One Scene 3 La Belle Christiane

If you've just discovered this free read, click Archived Free Read and start at the beginning.

La Belle Christiane

2011 Copyright Lyn Cote

All rights reserved

Chapter Twenty-One Scene 3

Down in the stable the major was standing silently by Penny. He had come down to stretch his legs and be among plainer, more comforting surroundings. But seeing the horse he'd given Christiane had affected him.

"That's Mother's Penny. Isn't she pretty?" Sarah had slipped in unheard.

"Yes." He looked down at her and then stroked the nose of the horse he had taken so much time in choosing those years before. "Are you supposed to be down here?"

"Dolly said I could go out a little."

"I see." A pause.

"Know what?"

"What?" he responded.

"Mama says I can have a pony when I'm six."

"Really?"

She nodded very seriously.

"Will you like that?"

"Yes." They looked at each other solemnly a long moment. Suddenly the little girl smiled. "Want to see something special?"

"What?"

"My hiding place."

He nodded and smiled in return. She held out her hand. He took it gently and she led him out.

#

Seven p.m. arrived. Christiane sat at her vanity. She still felt head-achy and slightly sick. How could she eat a meal with him? If she were a man, she would call him out and shoot him. She crumpled another handkerchief. At first she had agreed to dine with him only because Mrs. Washington had insisted. Did Christiane want the Englishman to know how much he upset her, her friend had reasoned. Finally Christiane had decided she wanted to have a chance to tell him exactly what she thought of him. With this in mind, Christiane peered once again into her mother's jewel chest.

Dolly had dressed her heavy, chestnut hair to perfection. Long curls teased their way down the sides of her neck and onto her bare shoulders. She was wearing her best gown, one of deep brown satin and wide creamy lace. The rubies or the pearls, which? Finally she chose the long rope of white pearls and twisted them into a triplet. She would show him she did not need to accept pearls from him. Then she added the extravagant matching earbobs. Critically she looked down into the small mirror. The pearls glowed against her skin, accentuating it and the lace. She rose and for a moment she tried to imagine herself at Versailles being presented at court as she would have been if she had not fled to America. She would make him regret losing her. That would be her revenge.

Gracefully Christiane glided down the candlelit hall and staircase. Though it was just seven, stern autumn had already put away the sun for the night. She thought for a moment of her afternoon ride, all the crumpled auburn leaves she had raced over. Another winter coming. This Christmas she would turn twenty-two. The first time she had met the major she had only been fifteen. What a contrast between these two meetings–a rude frontier fort and a gracious dining room on a Virginia estate. She lifted her chin and stepped into the parlor.

John and Sarah Renee sat comfortably, side by side, in front of a large fire. This irritated Christiane immediately, but she pushed the emotion down. There would be no scene. She acknowledged the men as they rose, "Good evening."

The major held Sarah's hand and allowed himself to take in all her mother's loveliness before he spoke, "Good evening, Christiane."

His familiarity in addressing her by first name infuriated her, but she only smiled glacially and turned to the lieutenant.

"Good evening, madam," he said over-politely and bowed over her hand. She allowed herself to be seated beside Farnsworth and though they made the effort of conversation, her eyes never left her daughter, who in turn never left the major's side.

Mrs. Washington entered and soon Breechy summoned them to dinner. In the little dining room on the main floor the cozy table was set for five. The room was striking with its sea green walls and ornate mantel. Mrs. Washington was helped to her seat by John. At her request he took the seat to her right and helped Sarah up into the chair next to his. Farnsworth seated Christiane and sat to Mrs. Washington's left. The meal began.

Christiane ate, but did not taste. She nodded and smiled to those who spoke to her, but she did not really follow the conversation. How dare he sit there and smile at her? Finally the ordeal ended. The major and lieutenant rose. Little Sarah then went reluctantly with Dolly off to bed.

"I think I will take my wine with me," Mrs. Washington said and took Farnsworth away with her much against the usual custom of leaving the men to enjoy the wine alone.

In brittle silence, Christiane and the major moved uncomfortably to Windsor chairs opposite each other near the fireplace. "Why are you here?' Christiane opened without introduction.

"To find out why you left me."

"That should have been obvious. I read the general's letter. Why are you continuing your pose of being unmarried?"

"I am unmarried."

"Liar."

He raised one eyebrow. "I am not married. I told you that Mary Ann died before I left for Canada. How did you ever come to such an erroneous conclusion?"

His calm tone grated on her. She frowned deeply.

"That last morning in Philadelphia," she began. "I prepared to go riding, but I forgot my gloves. So I came upstairs to our room. I went behind the dressing screen to find them. While I was hidden there, Alfred came in with a friend." She stopped and looked him straight in the eyes. "They were joking about my not knowing about your wife and child in London." There was complete silence then. "Don't you have any quick answer, my lord?" she asked in bitter sarcasm.

A look of deep distress had come to the major's face.

She took it as a sign of guilt. "Did you think you could keep it from me forever? Or did you plan to tell me when the marriage never took place? Or would you have married me falsely and never let me know?" Her voice shook, "What really makes me angry is that you would have let me bring Jean Claude along. You would have let him call you father, knowing it was a lie. How could you have been so selfish?"

He raised his eyes to hers. "Now I begin to understand," he said slowly.

"The truth cannot be denied."

"No, but it can be obscured by a lie. I see now that there is no such thing as a harmless lie. For this one has wounded us and our child."

"You admit it then?" she asked very near to tears.

"No, I do not. I am unmarried." He looked at her speculatively. "Why didn't you come to me and confront me?"

"You were in that meeting."

"Yes, I remember. But you mean you left on the strength of one idle comment you overheard?" His tone accused her and she hated him for it.

"You have your nerve questioning me," she declared.

"Answer my question."

She was stung by his attack. He dared berate her as though she had not loved him. How dare he? "I will answer, but only because I want you to know that you are not fooling me. I could not believe it at first, so I went to Mrs. Loring."

"Mrs. Loring?" His voice was incredulous.

"Yes, can you think of anyone else who would know more than that gossip?"

"No, but I would not deem her a reliable source. Why would you?"

"Your attitude is beyond my comprehension. What does it matter who I asked? If you remember, the day was quite unusual. You and Lord Hazelton were both in that meeting and then Lieutenant Hansen, that double agent, appeared before my eyes in the yard. I could not stay once I had seen what he was."

"I remember the day well, Christiane. Why did you flee when you saw Hansen, as you call him? Why didn't you wait? Didn't you have enough faith in me to know that I would have protected you no matter what?"

Her mouth gaped in rage as she struggled with herself. She would scream if he persisted in this manner. At last she mastered herself, but in a venomous voice she accused him, "You are married. Why don't you just admit it instead of trying to put the blame on me? I was willing to turn my back on my ideals, my friends, everything, all for you! I loved you and you used me. Admit it for once and be a man."

His face was grim. "I am deeply sorry for the pain you have suffered, but I never wished to cause you hurt."

Trembling, she kept her eyes down and would not look at him.

"Now I will explain what you heard Alfred say. When the Revolution began, I asked for a transfer to a combat post. When I arrived, the army was already in New York. It became apparent as we stayed there that the worthy matrons of the city were husband-hunting among the staff. At the time–as you know–I did not desire the company of women. The usual precautions did not work, however, especially with one family. This mother and daughter were more than persistent. So I had a friend drop the word that I was married with a daughter in London. This did the trick and it became a popular jest among the officers. Now do you see what I mean about there being no such thing as a harmless lie?"

"I don't believe you." She turned her back to him.

"I am not married, Christiane. I have no proof yet, but I am not married. I told you only the truth in Philadelphia."

"Really, my lord?" She whirled around to face him. "Sarah Renee is my proof that you lied. I did not want to believe at first that you had misrepresented yourself. I left not only to protect myself from suspicion, but also you. How does it look for an English major to be intimate with the companion of the enemy general's wife? But later when I realized my condition, I had no choice but to acknowledge your treachery. I suppose you have an explanation for how a man unable to father children got me with child?" She dared him with her flashing eyes.

"I can only say that it was a miracle, a once-in-a-lifetime boon from the Divine. And I can only thank Him and you for my daughter."

"She is my daughter. You have no legal right to her."

"I will when we marry."

Her mouth dropped open. "Marry? Why do you persist in this charade? I will never marry you."

"Yes, you will. I will prove that I am telling you the truth and we will marry."

"General Washington has already called your bluff."

"I beg your pardon?"

"The general has written to his friend in London and asked that he find out the truth." She sneered smugly. "By spring the truth of your falsehood will find you out."

"Christiane, I am sorry that you feel that way. I regret not being with you when you needed me, but you are wrong. My innocence will be proved come spring. And come spring you will marry me. Even if you still despise me as you seem to, you will marry me for Sarah's sake. And whatever my feelings may be, I will marry you because my only child will not be a bastard, but my legitimate heir."

Oh, she wished she had her riding crop! How she wished to strike him for his pompous insincerity! She could stand no more and swept from the room. She could hear his footsteps following her and then they stopped. She continued down the hall and up the staircase. The gall of the man.

The course of true love never ran smooth–is that true or not?–Lyn

Tweet

Author Rachel Hauck & Her Adventure into Ebooks & a Giveaway!

My guest today is Author Rachel Hauck. She is doing something a bit different. Leave a comment and you could win a copy of Softly and Tenderly plus a gift certificate.


Here's Rachel:


"Long before the Kindle, the Nook, or the Sony reader. Long before the iPad was a spark in Steve Job's eye, I sold an e-book. I'd written this rancher girl story for Heartsong but they had a book very similar coming out by Kathleen Y'barbo (don't think I've let her forget it) so they turned me down.
Writer's-Exchange was leading the way in those days in epublishing, a small venue from Australia, my second favorite country, so I sold them Belle and Burke's story.
With the advent of e-readers, this story is finding a new audience and I thought I'd share it with you. As the used cars sales men say, "It's priced to sell!"
Leave a comment on the blog and I'll draw a name to win a copy of Softly and Tenderly, my book with Sara Evans and a $10 Amazon gift certificate.



Here's what a reader said about This Time

This story made me feel hope, that all wrongs can be righted and that something you believe is gone forever can come back to you. Belle and Burke are great characters.I recommend this book. –One of my favorite Rachel Hauck books
Blurb
Oklahoma Rancher Belle Jamison's world topples when her best friend announces that Burke Benning, their former classmate and an NFL superstar running back, is coming to their fifteenth class reunion to act as Master of Ceremonies. Twelve years earlier the handsome athlete broke Belle's heart by deserting her minutes before their wedding ceremony.

Burke's retirement from professional football brings him home to Haskell for good. While his new career in life is uncertain, he knows he must deal with his hurtful actions toward Belle. A mountain of unspoken words looms between them and only the grace and peace of God can help them overcome.

Seeing Burke stirs the love and pain Belle still has hidden in her heart. As they rebuild their friendship and rekindle a lost love, Belle must choose to forget and trust him once more.

Will their desire for love overcome the devastation of the past? This time, will their love last?

Link to the book
http://www.amazon.com/This-Time-ebook/dp/B0041T4FDE
To learn more about Rachel, visit her web site: www.rachelhauck.com

Rachel, you're not the only one who is going to try this new ebook route to readers. I hope to have my original ms. La Belle Christiane available this fall in ebook form and print form. These are exciting, innovative times for authors.–Lyn

Chapter Twenty-One Scene 2 La Belle Christiane & a Winner Annouced!

If you've just discovered this free read, click on Archived Free Read and start at th beginning!

La Belle Christiane

2011 Copyright Lyn Cote

All rights reserved

Chapter Twenty-One Scene 2

Four chilling hard days of riding had come and gone for the quartet: Major Eastham, his man Alfred, and the Americans: Lieutenant Farnsworth and Sergeant Brown. They had travelled up the coast, stopping at Williamsburg to bank three hundred pounds sterling in the name of Sarah Renee Kruger. They had crossed the James and the York Rivers and then, starting at Middlesex County, the Rappahannock River became their guide. Finally they had reached the Potomac. The autumn was well into its prime. As they journeyed, the gold, scarlet, and brown leaves drifted onto their shoulders and fell to the brown earth around them.

It was a hostile party. John decided at the end of the first day that Washington had hand-picked the two men from the Continental Army that hated English nobility the most. Therefore, all communication was done grudgingly and in single syllables. As they rode, thoughts and feelings buzzed through the major's mind and heart. He did not want to see Christiane, but he did want to see Christiane. A letter would have been preferable. All he wanted was to know the answers to two mysteries. What facts had she learned? And why had she left? The pain of her betrayal of him, though numbed by time, awoke and shredded his heart all over again. Still there was a fascination about seeing her, being near her again, that he could not deny.

Farnsworth dropped back and came alongside John. "Sir," he managed to say in complete disrespect, "we will reach Mt. Vernon within the hour."

The major nodded. Without conferring, they all quickened their pace.

It was mid-afternoon. Thoughts of hot tea and golden, buttered toast urged them on. They had passed a number of beautiful estates and had viewed with pleasure their stateliness and elegance, so the first glimpse of Mt. Vernon was no surprise. John thought of the many times he had heard his fellow officers disparage Americans as country bumpkins. He wondered what Cornwallis himself would say upon seeing Mt. Vernon.

They rode up to the house. Farnsworth dismounted and went quickly to the doors. He had barely touched it when the door opened. The old butler asked, "Yes, sir?"

"Lieutenant Farnsworth of the Continental Army with a communication from General Washington."

"Very good, sir. Would you and your party come in please? Mrs. Washington will see you." Grooms had already appeared. They took charge of the horses and directed the sergeant and Alfred to the kitchen. The major slid down and stretched his cramped leg muscles.

Suddenly a little girl popped out of the doorway. "Hello!" she called cheerfully. She looked up at Farnsworth who ignored her, so she skipped over to John. "Hello?" she repeated hopefully.

"Hello," he replied absently, dusting himself with his hat, and then he looked down into her upturned face. The impact was so great that his knees became weak.

It was his mother's portrait, alive and in miniature. He had never given any thought to Washington's claim that his own daughter was at Mt. Vernon. He had deposited the cash at Williamsburg as a necessary payment to see Christiane. But a miracle had been granted him. Christiane had borne him a child. And so he would not doubt it, God had signed his name to her. Even a fool could not miss it.

"Mistress Sarah Renee, these gentlemen have come from the general. I am taking them to the parlor," Breechy said gently.

"I'll help," she said. With that she reached up, took John's hand. "Come along."

Farnsworth went on ahead. Breechy and the major flanked the child on each side as they entered the house. John still could not speak, but he managed to keep pace with the bouncing, chattering little body beside him. They entered the parlor. "Gramma Martha! Gramma Martha! Company is here!"

The lady of the house sat on a sofa of ivory brocade. "Hello, gentlemen, welcome to Mt. Vernon."

"Lady Washington," Farnsworth displayed all the courtesy that he had withheld for the past four days. "I have a letter for you from General Washington."

"Thank you, Lieutenant. Please warm yourself by the fire."

Major Eastham stood, holding Sarah's hand. He pulled himself together, doffed his tri-corn hat, and bowed. "Allow me to introduce myself, madam. I am Major John Eastham of His Majesty's Army." With that, he handed her his letter of introduction.

If she were puzzled, she gave no outward sign. "Major, please make yourself comfortable." She turned the butler, "Breechy, please ask to have tea served early. Sarah, why don't you show Major Eastham what you learned today while I read my letter." The lady motioned him to a place in an adjoining chair.

Sarah lifted a slate and chalk from Mrs. Washington's lap. "I learned to write my name today," the child reported shyly. "Want to see?"

"Yes."

Carefully she scraped S A R A H for him. "See? My name. Sarah. S.A.R.A.H."

"Well done," he said. Tentatively he brushed his hand down her dark straight hair, so like his own as a child. She looked up at him soberly, but did not pull away.

"That's not all my name. I am Sarah Renee. I'll learn that next time."

"I'm sure you will."

"Do you know any rhymes please?"

"Rhymes?"

"Yes, Gramma Martha and my mother tell my rhymes."

"Where is your mother?" The words nearly caught in his throat.

"Out riding Penny. Will you tell me a rhyme?"

"Would you like 'Mary, Mary Quite Contrary'?"

"Yes." So he began reciting nursery rhymes to this child, his child. He was surprised that they came back to mind so easily. How long had it been since he learned them at his nurse's knee? He had never pictured himself reciting ditties to his own child and he was unexpectedly bathed in a warmth he had never known. I am a father.  I have a daughter. What he had longed for suddenly was his.

Martha observed all this and then opened her letter.

3, November 1781

Dearest Martha,

Something that neither you nor I had anticipated

has occurred. Sarah Renee's father has come forward of

his own accord. You see before you Major John Eastham,

Sarah's father in person. You can imagine my surprise

upon discovering that Christiane had been involved with

an English officer.

He came to find out where

Christiane was. Somehow he knew of our connection to

her. He was evasive about his relationship with

Christiane, but admitted to being on intimate terms

with her in Philadelphia over Christmas of 1777.

He also denied, at first, fathering her child

but, of course, the resemblance is unmistakable. He

finally agreed to assume responsibility for his child.

I have demanded that he make a sizable deposit in

Sarah's name at a bank in Williamsburg. He will not be

conducted to you until he has done so.

He has also denied being married and has sworn

his oath as a gentleman that he is not. I wish to

believe him, but since Christiane and Sarah Renee's futures

are at stake, I intend to make certain. I am going to

write to Will in London and ask him to investigate the

matter for us.

I only had a brief interview with this major. I

will leave to your good judgment whether or not an

alliance between them is advisable. If he does not

marry her, at least, he will have made provision for

Sarah.

The days go on, dearest. I only wish I could

personally conduct the major home to Mt. Vernon.

With truest affection,

George

When Martha was done, she carefully examined the major. Yes, the resemblance was striking. She went into deep thought all the while keeping the Englishman in view. Tea arrived.

John found it difficult to make small talk for all his attention was focused on his daughter. Her every movement, every word, every nuance was glorious to him.

Without warning, Christiane opened the door and stepped in.

Eastham recognized immediately the velvet riding habit that Lagneaux had designed for her in Philadelphia.

She was walking quickly, looking down while pulling off her riding gloves. "I am sorry. Breechy said tea is already served and that we have military company. I did not realized that I had stayed out so long." She looked up and smiled.

"That is all right, my dear," Mrs. Washington replied smoothly. "I had tea served a bit early."

Lt. Farnsworth and Major Eastham rose.

Christiane's smile was replaced by a look of pure shock. Her mouth opened and closed, but no words came. Finally one word became audible, "You." It was filled with accusation and anger. "You."

Mrs. Washington remained unruffled. "I believe that you and Major Eastham are already acquainted. This other gentleman is Lt. Farnsworth." Farnsworth made his most elegant bow and was completely ignored.

Christiane's mouth remained open and she trembled with emotion. She wanted to scream at John, strike him, but she could not move. Till suddenly she could stand to be near him no more. She whirled and left the room, her riding skirt billowing out behind her like the tail of a kite. Her footsteps clattered away on the polished wooden floors and steps. She rushed into her room and slammed the door. She leaned back against it, breathing in deep gasps. Icy drops sprang up on her forehead. Her heart raced.

He was here! In this house! In her haven! Her mind kept pace with her pounding heart. Forgotten memories, sensations gushed through her. How had he found her? Why had he come? Her head ached and she felt weak with anger, ill. She bent over the basin on her dressing table, thinking she might be sick. The waves of nausea finally passed and she lay down. She reached up and pulled the cord to summon her maid.

Dolly came in blithely and then stopped at the sight of her mistress. "Miss Christiane, you be sick?"

"Dolly, where is Sarah?" Christiane asked weakly.

"She still be having tea with the comp'ny."

Christiane moaned slightly. "Dolly, go get Sarah and bring her to me."

Dolly, wide-eyed, bobbed and hurried out.

Breechy entered the parlor. "Mrs. Washington? Dolly says that Miss Christiane is indisposed and that she would like her daughter to come to her."

Mrs. Washington looked at John speculatively. "I will come myself, Breechy. Have Dolly take Sarah up to her room please." The child pouted, but was led away.

"Major and Lieutenant, make yourselves at home. Breechy will provide anything you need." She rose and the men rose politely. "There are usually only the three of us. Because of Sarah's age dinner is at seven. Good day." She walked out and went directly to Christiane's room.

Christiane looked up from where she sat, crumpled on her bed. "Mrs. Washington–"

"Here. Read this," Mrs. Washington answered, putting her husband's letter in Christiane's face.

"But–"

"Read it." She sat down. Her face was sober.

Christiane raised herself on one elbow and read the letter. She read it again. Finally she breathed one word, "Liar."

The older woman sat calmly across from Christiane. "Are you so sure?"

"You do not know him as I do," Christiane answered. Her mouth twisted into an unpretty smile. "He is an amazing actor."

"Well, that may be true or it may be false. I have watched him with Sarah. He seems sincerely taken with her.  Time will tell, I suppose."

"What do you mean?" Christiane's tone rose, shrill.

"The letter to Will. It takes time to get a letter to and from England. It may take Will some time to find out the truth. We must just be patient."

Christiane handed back the letter without further comment, but her stormy expression said much.

So is John married or not? And the winner of Christine Lindsay's Shadowed in Silk is Margie Mijares! Christine will contact you Margie and ask whether you want the book in electronic or print form.–Lyn

Tweet

Chapter Twenty-One Scene 1 La Belle Christiane

If you've just discovered this free read, click Archived Free Read and start at the beginning.

La Belle Christiane

2011 Copyright Lyn Cote

All rights reserved

Chapter Twenty-One Scene 1

Major John Eastham of His Majesty's Army, future Earl of Gresham, sat in the outer room at the Continental Army headquarters near Yorktown, Virginia. It was early November and more importantly less than a month since the American victory at Yorktown. Though a peace treaty had yet to be signed, Howe's successor, Cornwallis, had surrendered there. Now Major Eastham, under a flag of truce, waited outside General Washington's office. The secretaries and various officers who came in and out looked askance at this enemy officer. He shared their feelings himself.

He fought the urge to tug at his tight collar. But in Philadelphia almost four years ago, he had promised himself that he would find out what had happened so drastically that day. She had left him without giving a clear reason and he had to know why.

John Laurens stepped out of Washington's office and stopped in front of Eastham. "Major?"

"Yes." He stood politely.

"General Washington will not see you. He can think of no matter he needs to discuss with you."

John felt his face grow warm. "It is a personal matter."

"I explained that, but the general has never met you," Laurens spoke glibly. Cornwallis had sent a subordinate to present his sword of surrender. This slight obviously still stung American pride. Laurens half-turned in dismissal.

Major Eastham spoke up in desperation. He had not come this far to fail. "It concerns Mrs. Christiane Kruger," he said in a hard, even tone.

Every voice in the room stopped. Every pen halted. Every eye turned to him. His face grew warmer.

Laurens gave Eastham a penetrating look. Without speaking, the American knocked on the door again and went back into the office.

Silence and intense interest surrounded the major. In less than two minutes the door opened. "The general will see you now." Eastham walked the few feet to the door, feeling every eye following him. Laurens closed the door. The major faced the enemy alone.

General Washington sat behind a large desk. The shelves behind him were lined with dark-hued volumes. The red, white, and blue flag of the young nation was draped on the adjoining wall. "General Washington, this is an honor, sir," John said by rote, bowed low, and waited to be asked to take a seat.

The general took his time and examined the major carefully. He saw that the major was, of course, an aristocrat. His dress and manner displayed that. Since his temples were threaded with gray, the Englishman seemed a man nearing his middle years. His appearance reminded Washington of someone. What was this Englishman doing here, asking about Christiane? Washington locked eyes with the Major's cool, blue ones. "You are Major John Eastham, is that right?" Washington asked in an unfriendly tone.

"Yes, sir." John, looking into the face of the general, was sincerely relieved that a desk, not a dueling field separated them. This man's countenance had a shoot-to-kill quality about it. John swallowed to ease his dry throat.

The interrogation started. "How do you know Mrs. Kruger?"

"I met her in Philadelphia some years ago."

"When?" the general barked.

"The Christmas of 1777."

The general's eyes seemed to draw a bead on a spot between the major's eyebrows. There was a silence.

"What were the circumstances of your acquaintanceship with Mrs. Kruger?" Washington asked bluntly.

"I do not care to say."

"Why have you come to me?" the American challenged him.

"I understood that Mrs. Kruger is a friend of yours and I wished to communicate with her."

"Why?"

"It is personal."

Suddenly Washington knew whom the major reminded him of and it made him angry. By God! He slammed his fist on the desk and lunged to his feet. The walls reverberated with the sound.

Instinctively John wanted to pull back, but his military training held him in place.

"Men like you disgust me!"

"I do not know what you mean, sir," John replied evenly.

"Don't you? My, God, you have nerve. You come to me all innocence, asking to communicate with a very fine woman you have wronged, and you expect me to cooperate with you."

"I do not know what you mean. I have wronged no one."

"Perhaps I would have believed you if I had not met your daughter this September."

"My daughter?"

"Yes, your daughter by Christiane Kruger."

"It is impossible."

"Impossible? By your answers you have insinuated that you were on intimate terms with the lady during December of 1777. Is that not true?" Washington hammered at him like a prosecuting attorney.

"Yes, that is true," John admitted reluctantly.

"Well, late September of 1778 Christiane gave birth to a daughter. Do you deny the child is yours?"

"Yes."

Washington became literally speechless with rage. Several seconds passed while he gained control of himself. Finally he was able to speak, "Trying to put the blame on another shows singular disrespect for the lady and it will not work. I told you I have seen your daughter. I have often heard that God marks a bastard with the father's features. The child has your hair, your eyes, and an exact duplicate of your nose. You may continue to deny paternity, but no one seeing your child would believe that anyone else could be her father."

John sized up his opponent. He realized that if he continued to insist that he was not the father, he would soon be choosing a weapon and naming seconds. More importantly obstinacy on this point would only put him farther from his goal of communicating with Christiane again. In any case, he did not wish to reveal that it was impossible for him to father any child, so he would let it go. "Very well," he said quietly, "I will accept responsibility."

General Washington relaxed visibly and sat down. "You intend to be reasonable then?"

"Yes, sir."

"Please be seated."

"Thank you." John sat. "Where is Christiane?"

"First I want to know what kind of arrangement you intend to make to support your child?"

"What do you suggest?"

"Perhaps a liberal sum deposited in her name in a Williamsburg bank?" Washington suggested.

"That seems fair."

The general studied the man in front of him, sizing him up even more carefully.

Finally John asked again, "Where is Christiane?"

Washington ignored the question. "How did you and Christiane become acquainted?"

John stifled his impatience, realizing he would have to follow the superior officer's lead. "She was detained by sentries at a road block."

"Ah." The general waited.

"We had met before in Canada."

"Yes."

"She asked for my protection."

Washington's expression became grim again.

"General, you probably will not believe this, but forming a liaison with Christiane was not my intent. However, we were in each other's company so much so that finally we did become attracted to one another. I thought I had made it clear that I wanted our connection to be of a long-standing nature. Evidently Christiane decided against it. One day she went riding and did not return."

"I see." The general pressed his fingertips together in front of his mouth. "She must have left when she learned that you were married."

"Married? I am not married."

Antagonism sprang back into Washington's eyes. "Christiane said that the man was married."

John took a deep breath. "Then she is mistaken. My one and only wife died over ten years ago."

The general, almost at the point of contradiction again, stopped. "Are you prepared to swear to that?"

"I am."

Washington felt among the papers and pulled out an old Bible. "Will you swear by God and your king on this Bible that you are unmarried."

"I will." John stretched out and put his right hand on the black leather. "I swear by God and King George that I am unmarried."

The American waited as though expecting immediate Divine retribution.

"Where is Christiane?" John hazarded again.

"At my estate in Virginia," Washington answered promptly.

"How may I communicate with her?"

"Face to face. Return here tomorrow morning at dawn. I will provide an escort for you, a letter of safe conduct and an introduction to my wife. Does that meet with your approval?" .

John was almost speechless, but he managed to say the right words and maintain outward calm. He walked out of the room, almost dazed. He had never expected to be conducted to Christiane, but now he had been given no choice.

As soon as the Englishman closed the door, the general took out a fresh page of foolscap and quickly wrote a letter to his Martha explaining the situation. He could do no more than bring them back together. He hoped the Englishman was not fool enough to let Christiane get away from him twice. And just to be sure, a letter to his friend, Will Fairfax in London might be a good idea. A gentleman's word should be true, but he would test this one. He began the second letter with a look of determination.

Tweet

Author Christine Lindsay & a True God-Incidence

My guest today, debut author Christine Lindsay, is offering either a free ebook or if you can wait till fall, a print copy of her first book. Now read on– she has quite a story. Here's Christine:

"Unmarried at 21, I gave birth to a baby girl. Wanting my baby to have a loving dad as well as a loving mom, I made the tough decision to relinquish her to adoption.

Grief overtook me afterwards, and I sought comfort at church. Sitting in a mid-week prayer meeting I first heard about a true-life heroine by the name of Ramabai. This brilliant Indian woman had died in 1922, but she had done so much for women and children in India that England awarded her the Kaisar-I-Hind Gold Medal.

Born into a high caste Hindu family, Ramabai's father broke with tradition and taught her to read. This was the beginning of my heroine's search for enlightenment. After her parents and siblings died, Ramabai also broke with tradition and married a lawyer of a lower Hindu caste, but he died of a cholera leaving her alone with a tiny daughter.

One day, looking through her husband's papers she found a Bible, and found fulfillment to her spiritual search in the person of Jesus Christ. This prompted her to translate the Bible into her local language. To name just a few of her accomplishments—she started the first Braille School, promoted the need for female medical doctors, and was the founder of the Ramabai Mukti Mission, a home for sexually abuse Hindu widows and children.

This woman who'd been born a century before me inspired me at a time when my own life was at a low ebb, after giving up my baby girl.

But the years passed, and I met a wonderful Christian man. God blessed us with 3 children. And twenty years later Sarah and I were reunited. But the reunion I'd waited for so long brought back the pain of losing her in the first place. The Lord encouraged me to write out my emotional pain, and my loss became my muse.

My debut novel, Shadowed in Silk, is being released this year. It shows my fascination with British ruled India, but also the inspiration of Ramabai. An integral secondary character, Miriam, rescues Hindu widows and children. It is she who teaches my main character, Abby, about the Lord.

God writes on our lives with far bolder pen than most novelist do in a story. It was arranged that my daughter, Sarah, be the model for the front cover of my book, wearing the sari I had purchased in India.

At the time of the photo-shoot, Sarah and her husband (both ER nurses) were applying to various missions, feeling called into full-time missionary work. It wasn't until several months later, that Sarah told me the mission they were going out with would be overseeing the very mission that Ramabai founded over 100 years ago. Here is a picture Pandita Ramabai. Pandita is not her first name, it is an honorary Indian title meaning "wise one."

I couldn't believe my ears. Of all the missions around the globe, why this one? Sarah had no idea what Ramabai meant to me. I'd kept that tidbit to myself.

It's not wonder I write, trying to scrabble down on paper the amazing things that God does through surrendered lives."

Now about Christine's book Shadowed in Silk.

She was invisible to those who should have loved her.

After the Great War, Abby Fraser returns to India with her small son, where her husband is stationed with the British army. She has longed to go home to the land of glittering palaces and veiled women . . . but Nick has become a cruel stranger. It will take more than her American pluck to survive.

Major Geoff Richards, broken over the loss of so many of his men in the trenches of France, returns to his cavalry post in Amritsar. But his faith does little to help him understand the ruthlessness of his British peers toward the Indian people he loves. Nor does it explain how he is to protect Abby Fraser and her child from the husband who mistreats them.

Amid political unrest, inhospitable deserts, and Russian spies, tensions rise in India as the people cry for the freedom espoused by Gandhi. Caught between their own ideals and duty, Geoff and Abby stumble into sinister secrets . . . secrets that will thrust them out of the shadows and straight into the fire of revolution.

Author Bio:

Christine Lindsay writes historical Christian inspirational novels with strong love stories. She doesn't shy away from difficult subjects such as the themes in her debut novel SHADOWED IN SILK which is set in India during a turbulent era. Christine's long-time fascination with the British Raj was seeded from stories of her ancestors who served in the British Cavalry in India. SHADOWED IN SILK won first place in the 2009 ACFW Genesis for Historical under the title Unveiled. Shadowed in Silk is being released by WhiteFire Publishing in 2 stages this year, first as an eBook on May 1, 2011, and as the printed version Sept. 1.

The Pacific coast of Canada, about 200 miles north of Seattle, is Christine's home. It's a special time in her life as she and her husband enjoy the empty nest, but also the noise and fun when the kids and grandkids come home. Like a lot of writers, her cat is her chief editor."

I love that about her cat! Well, do you think it was a coincidence that her long-lost daughter and husband were planning to work at the exact mission which fascinated Christine? Or a God-incidence? Remember, leave a comment and be entered into the drawing. I'll post the winner Sunday.-And remember this is her first book, please leave a comment to encourage her, a sister in Christ.-Lyn

For more info:

Her website is www.christinelindsay.com,

Blog address is www.christinelindsay.org
Readers can buy the book at Amazon.comhttp://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_sb_noss?url=search-alias%3Dstripbooks&field-keywords=shadowed+in+silk

Chapter Twenty Scene 5 La Belle Christiane

If you've just discovered this free read, click Archived Free Read and start at the beginning.

La Belle Christiane

2011 Copyright Lyn Cote

All rights reserved

Part Three

Chapter Twenty Scene 5

The men were leaving for the war again. On the steps of Mt. Vernon, Mrs. Washington, Christiane, and Sarah Renee had watched them ride away. Far down the lane General Washington paused and turned for one more look back at his home. He waved again and Martha returned it. Then he was gone around the bend. At that moment Christiane asked herself the same question he must have asked himself. Would it be another six years before he saw home again? And more importantly would he finally come home victorious or defeated?

The women stood a long time. At last they could not even detect the dust from the leaving party. The butler, housekeeper, and other servants appeared and waited, obviously to be of comfort. "Christiane, I believe I will visit the cabins today. I have been so busy that I have neglected them. Oney," the lady addressed her maid, "go fetch my herb basket please."

"I want to go, too," Sarah stated.

"If your mother agrees."

Sarah turned to Christiane, silently asking permission.

Christiane nodded absently. "Yes, go ahead. Be a help, not a hindrance." Christiane turned and went in, wandering into the quiet west parlor. The past four days had been so hectic that she had had little time to think about the import of her grandmother's gift.

She stood beside the ivory-brocaded draperies and light blue walls and looked out at the green and amber hills behind the manor. What to do about her future? She now had the wherewithal to proceed with her life, but what was her life destination? All the jewels in the world could not buy her what she really wanted–Sarah's legitimacy. Only one man in the world, the major, could give Sarah that and, since he was already married it was even beyond his power.

The door behind her opened. "Mr. Evan Marsh," Breechy announced and then withdrew.

She turned, hiding a frown. "Good morning, Mr. Marsh."

"Good morning, Mrs. Kruger."

"Mrs. Washington is making her rounds of the cabins."

"So I was told. But it does not matter since it is you I came to see."

"Oh?" She was surprised and then wary. "Would you be seated please?"

"Thank you." They sat across from the cold hearth on matching brocaded chairs. He looked up at her face and studied it carefully. She took his interest calmly, waiting for him to start the conversation.

Finally he spoke, "Madam, I will state my purpose in coming directly. I believe the time has come for me to ask you to marry me."

Her mouth opened slightly.

"Do not feign surprise. I believe that I have made no real secret of my interest in you."

"Yes, but we have never really–"

"Behaved like sweethearts? No, we have not. The situation has been an unusual one. I, for one, did not entertain the idea of marrying again till the past year or so. I was content merely to watch you. I expected you to rouse yourself and be off about your life. But you have cut yourself off from society and I know that the only reasons that you allowed me to become acquainted with you is that I called often and was an old widower, one who could not be tainted by association with a 'scarlet woman'."

She pursed her lips. "It is nothing to be made light of."

"Why not? You made a mistake. You became pregnant out of wedlock and gave birth to a very beautiful child. It is a very old plot. Don't you realize that it is only because you are a woman that society is shocked?"

"It does not matter whether others have done it or not," she answered soberly. "And it does not matter whether I am male or female. I did wrong and my Sarah will pay for it."

He looked at her searchingly. "You have always shown yourself a clear-minded woman. I like that. You say that little Sarah will pay. Well, she need not. I will be frank. I am a wealthy man. My first wife died barren. I have no living relatives, save a few distant cousins in England. Marry me. I will adopt Sarah and raise her as my daughter. I am forty-nine years old which makes me about thirty years older than you. I could live another twenty years. I could die tomorrow. I would be a considerate husband and an affectionate father. You have all to gain and naught to lose."

She returned his frank look. She had known of his interest in her and wondered what outlet it would take. "May I be frank also?"

"Please."

She looked him straight in the eye. She had not wanted to open this whole subject. But she would tell him what she thought. Perhaps her frankness would discourage him. "Thank you for not asking me to be your mistress. I wondered if you would."

He smiled wryly. "Would you have accepted?"

"No," she replied, not amused.

"Will you marry me then?"

She paused. "No, your proposal is generous and makes excellent sense, but no. I thank you, but I cannot."

"Why?" He lifted an eyebrow.

"Because once before I accepted a marriage proposal because it was convenient and advantageous. I have made mistakes, but I refuse to repeat them."

"You believe then it's wrong to marry me merely because it would be a wise decision?" He lifted one eyebrow. "You believe in marrying only for love?"

"Don't make it sound ridiculous. Marriage is more than a business relationship, more than a weighing of credits versus debits. More clearly I cannot put my reasoning. But would it be right for me to say: Evan Marsh is a good catch, so I better snare him while I can."

He laughed loudly. "I love your honesty. Frankly it is what attracted me to you first. Well, I will accept your 'no' for the time being, but the offer will remain open."

"I wish you would not. I doubt I will change my mind."

"And I believe you may in time. And I have time. Leah has been gone almost four years. At first the county widows pursued me, but they have all given up, thank God. So I will bide my time and see if you will reconsider."

"Very well, suit yourself, Mr. Marsh. I believe, you will anyway."

"That's true, but I will ask you one favor."

"What?"

"I would like you to call me Evan."

She looked up at him. This whole exchange had been impertinent in her eyes and she wanted to put it at an end. She had no intention of marrying Mr. Evan Marsh. Suddenly feeling saucy, she stood up. "Very well, Evan. Good day, Evan." And with perfect posture and grace walked out of the room. His amused laughter echoed behind her.

I like Evan. How about you?–Lyn

La Belle Christiane

2011 Copyright Lyn Cote

All rights reserved

Part Three

Chapter Twenty Scene 5

The men were leaving for the war again. On the steps of Mt. Vernon, Mrs. Washington, Christiane, and Sarah Renee had watched them ride away. Far down the lane General Washington paused and turned for one more look back at his home. He waved again and Martha returned it. Then he was gone around the bend. At that moment Christiane asked herself the same question he must have asked himself. Would it be another six years before he saw home again? And more importantly would he finally come home victorious or defeated?

The women stood a long time. At last they could not even detect the dust from the leaving party. The butler, housekeeper, and other servants appeared and waited, obviously to be of comfort. "Christiane, I believe I will visit the cabins today. I have been so busy that I have neglected them. Oney," the lady addressed her maid, "go fetch my herb basket please."

"I want to go, too," Sarah stated.

"If your mother agrees."

Sarah turned to Christiane, silently asking permission.

Christiane nodded absently. "Yes, go ahead. Be a help, not a hindrance." Christiane turned and went in, wandering into the quiet west parlor. The past four days had been so hectic that she had had little time to think about the import of her grandmother's gift.

She stood beside the ivory-brocaded draperies and light blue walls and looked out at the green and amber hills behind the manor. What to do about her future? She now had the wherewithal to proceed with her life, but what was her life destination? All the jewels in the world could not buy her what she really wanted–Sarah's legitimacy. Only one man in the world, the major, could give Sarah that and, since he was already married it was even beyond his power.

The door behind her opened. "Mr. Evan Marsh," Breechy announced and then withdrew.

She turned, hiding a frown. "Good morning, Mr. Marsh."

"Good morning, Mrs. Kruger."

"Mrs. Washington is making her rounds of the cabins."

"So I was told. But it does not matter since it is you I came to see."

"Oh?" She was surprised and then wary. "Would you be seated please?"

"Thank you." They sat across from the cold hearth on matching brocaded chairs. He looked up at her face and studied it carefully. She took his interest calmly, waiting for him to start the conversation.

Finally he spoke, "Madam, I will state my purpose in coming directly. I believe the time has come for me to ask you to marry me."

Her mouth opened slightly.

"Do not feign surprise. I believe that I have made no real secret of my interest in you."

"Yes, but we have never really–"

"Behaved like sweethearts? No, we have not. The situation has been an unusual one. I, for one, did not entertain the idea of marrying again till the past year or so. I was content merely to watch you. I expected you to rouse yourself and be off about your life. But you have cut yourself off from society and I know that the only reasons that you allowed me to become acquainted with you is that I called often and was an old widower, one who could not be tainted by association with a 'scarlet woman'."

She pursed her lips. "It is nothing to be made light of."

"Why not? You made a mistake. You became pregnant out of wedlock and gave birth to a very beautiful child. It is a very old plot. Don't you realize that it is only because you are a woman that society is shocked?"

"It does not matter whether others have done it or not," she answered soberly. "And it does not matter whether I am male or female. I did wrong and my Sarah will pay for it."

He looked at her searchingly. "You have always shown yourself a clear-minded woman. I like that. You say that little Sarah will pay. Well, she need not. I will be frank. I am a wealthy man. My first wife died barren. I have no living relatives, save a few distant cousins in England. Marry me. I will adopt Sarah and raise her as my daughter. I am forty-nine years old which makes me about thirty years older than you. I could live another twenty years. I could die tomorrow. I would be a considerate husband and an affectionate father. You have all to gain and naught to lose."

She returned his frank look. She had known of his interest in her and wondered what outlet it would take. "May I be frank also?"

"Please."

She looked him straight in the eye. She had not wanted to open this whole subject. But she would tell him what she thought. Perhaps her frankness would discourage him. "Thank you for not asking me to be your mistress. I wondered if you would."

He smiled wryly. "Would you have accepted?"

"No," she replied, not amused.

"Will you marry me then?"

She paused. "No, your proposal is generous and makes excellent sense, but no. I thank you, but I cannot."

"Why?" He lifted an eyebrow.

"Because once before I accepted a marriage proposal because it was convenient and advantageous. I have made mistakes, but I refuse to repeat them."

"You believe then it's wrong to marry me merely because it would be a wise decision?" He lifted one eyebrow. "You believe in marrying only for love?"

"Don't make it sound ridiculous. Marriage is more than a business relationship, more than a weighing of credits versus debits. More clearly I cannot put my reasoning. But would it be right for me to say: Evan Marsh is a good catch, so I better snare him while I can."

He laughed loudly. "I love your honesty. Frankly it is what attracted me to you first. Well, I will accept your 'no' for the time being, but the offer will remain open."

"I wish you would not. I doubt I will change my mind."

"And I believe you may in time. And I have time. Leah has been gone almost four years. At first the county widows pursued me, but they have all given up, thank God. So I will bide my time and see if you will reconsider."

"Very well, suit yourself, Mr. Marsh. I believe, you will anyway."

"That's true, but I will ask you one favor."

"What?"

"I would like you to call me Evan."

She looked up at him. This whole exchange had been impertinent in her eyes and she wanted to put it at an end. She had no intention of marrying Mr. Evan Marsh. Suddenly feeling saucy, she stood up. "Very well, Evan. Good day, Evan." And with perfect posture and grace walked out of the room. His amused laughter echoed behind her.

Tweet

Author Deborah Raney & Her Latest–Forever After

I recently reviewed Almost Forever, the first book in this series. This one looks excellent too!


FOREVER AFTER
by Deborah Raney

Forever After is the second book in Deborah Raney's Hanover Falls Novels series from Howard/Simon & Schuster. The first novel in the series, Almost Forever, won the Gayle Wilson Award of Excellence and a HOLT Medallion Award of Merit.
Synopsis: Lucas Vermontez was a proud firefighter like his father. Now, not only has he lost his father and his best friend, Zach, in the fire at the Grove Street Homeless Shelter, but the devoted rookie can no longer do the work he loves after being crippled in the tragic event. When friendship with his buddy's beautiful widow turns into more, he wonders what he could possibly offer Jenna. Jenna Morgan is trying to grieve her husband's death like a proper widow, but the truth is, she never really loved Zach. His death feels more like a relief to her. But that relief is short-lived when she loses her home and the financial support of her in-laws. Now the secrets of her past threaten to destroy her future. Almost Forever, Book 1 in the Hanover Falls Novels series, won the Gayle Wilson Award of Excellence in 2011.

DEBORAH RANEY's first novel, A Vow to Cherish, inspired the World Wide Pictures film of the same title and launched her writing career after 20 happy years as a stay-at-home mom. Her books have won numerous awards including the RITA, National Readers Choice Award, HOLT Medallion, the Carol Award, and have twice been Christy Award finalists. Deb also serves on the Advisory Board of the 2500-member American Christian Fiction Writers. Her 20th novel released this month from Howard/Simon & Schuster. She and her husband, Ken Raney, enjoy tending wildflowers and native grasses in the Kansas prairie garden in their large back yard. They also love traveling together to conferences, and to visit four children and three little grandsons who all live much too far away.

Here's my review of the first book in this series. Have you ever read a Deborah Raney novel?–Lyn

Almost Forever by Deborah Raney

My rating: 4 of 5 stars

Almost Forever begins portraying a horrifying tragedy with stark reality. Then it shifts into a very believable romance of two wounded hearts. Just when we think the happy ending might be near, the heroine makes a startling, shattering realization. In spite of one "pat-feeling" plot point, I enjoyed this book and found it compelling.

View all my reviews

Tweet

Chapter Twenty Scene 4 La Belle Christiane (& Winner Announced)

If you've just discovered this free read, click Archived Free Read and start at the beginning.

La Belle Christiane

2011 Copyright Lyn Cote

All rights reserved

Part Three

Chapter Twenty Scene 4

The next evening the musicians were warming up discordantly in the New Room, a large banquet hall. The room was as yet undecorated though the Palladian windows already set the tone of elegant symmetry. The guests, a mere trickle fifteen minutes before, were now an advancing brigade. The butler loudly announced their names as they began the short receiving line. Christiane watched them enter with some apprehension. She had not participated in society for almost four years. She had been at ease with the officers, but she still dreaded facing other women in a formal situation. She realized that even the most minor slight might destroy her new confidence.

Little Sarah bounced ecstatically beside her. The presence of her daughter was comforting and she did not mind being upstaged by her child. Tonight she would prefer it. Looking down, she admonished the little girl again, "Remember you can only stay a short while. Then you must go to bed."

Sarah Renee gave her a disgruntled look, but nodded. They walked slowly around the floor, hand in hand. Christiane wore a navy blue bombazine gown. Its lines were severe and sedate. Her hair was pulled back simply much to Sally's dismay. Sally had longed to show her expertise in hair-styling, but to no avail. Christiane had even resisted the temptation to decorate herself with her mother's jewels. She wore only a simple sapphire pendant.

Outwardly calm, she watched the short receiving line, consisting only of the Washingtons and Rochambeau. Washington's pride and pleasure showed through his formality. His oldest friends and neighbors were being presented to a French general, whom Washington would shortly command as the allied commander-in-chief. Rochambeau greeted the guests with a natural charm that brought immediate smiles to the ladies and gentlemen. The ribbon of arrivals finally ended. Only about twenty couples had been invited. Christiane was relieved to see that most of them were in their middle or older years. The only young men in the room were the French and American officers.

Sarah garnered much attention as Christiane showed her around the ballroom. The little girl was eager to share her excitement and talked to anyone who would listen. Her language was quite advanced for her age except for a tendency to substitute "W" for "R" which made her sound even more endearing. Christiane introduced herself as Mrs. Kruger, a friend of the Washington's. All were polite and cordial. If they knew of her past, they made no mention.

Christiane sighed and watched her daughter with pleasure. The gold and red flowers in vases around the dance floor, the happy voices, the aromas from the buffet table all delighted her senses. It promised to be a lovely evening.

"Ladies and gentlemen," General Washington lifted his voice above the hum. "Friends and neighbors, thank you again for coming this evening. I hope that you will all enjoy yourselves as I intend to. The dancing may now begin. Musicians, please." As if on cue, the bows all struck together. The couples paired off and began to move around the pinewood floor to the stately minuet. Christiane turned to go to a corner and found Evan Marsh and John Laurens in front of her. She had not intended to dance tonight, not wishing to allow herself to be seen as "available." Her mouth tightened.

A voice from behind her broke the tension, "Madame, may I claim your first dance?" It was General Rochambeau. The other two men looked at him with some chagrin.

"I am sorry, General, but my daughter…I…," Christiane fumbled.

"Your daughter will enjoy to see you dance," he stumbled in English.

"Yes. Yes." Sarah jumped up and down.

"Please, Sarah Renee, mind your manners," Christiane murmured.

"Go ahead, Mrs. Kruger," Evan said politely. "I will claim Mistress Kruger for this dance." Without waiting for an answer, he reached down and lifted the little girl up into his arms and when they joined the dancers, he set her on her feet across from him.

Christiane looked at her old friend John apologetically. He smiled and stepped away. Rochambeau touched her hand and they took their place smoothly. Soon a spontaneous smile spread over Christiane's face. It had been so long since she had danced. And why shouldn't she? The new confidence of the afternoon began to re-assert itself.

"It will not work, madame," Rochambeau said quietly in French.

"I beg your pardon, mon general?"

"Trying to hide your beauty will never succeed. Don't attempt it."

She pursed her lips and decided to answer directly. "I only wished not to call attention to myself."

"Will a moth ignore a flame? No, madame, do not carry out a charade. You are a beautiful woman just as your mother was. Don't waste your beauty."

"You knew my mother?" Christiane's heart sped up.

"Only from a distance. She was too grand for a mere officer to approach."

Suddenly tears threatened Christiane.

"Please do not think that we were gossiping, but I was curious about you and the Marquis confided in me. Be assured I will not reveal your family background. Though I wonder why you have not. Certainly your family is one to be proud of."

She gave a bittersweet smile. "You speak like a Frenchman, sir. Americans view life differently. And I am an American now also."

"That may be, but you certainly do not fit the provincial mode, n'est pas?"

"Perhaps I do not." She followed his lead, striking a pose.

"Your life is much before you. Do not rush for consistency. Very few find it and when they do, they call it boredom."

She had to smile at this. "Your advice is very kind." The dance ended.

"Now I will leave you to your many admirers. Merci, madame." He left her side before she could reply.

Evan and her maid Sally who held Sarah in her arms joined her. "Sally, you are right on time."

"Mama, please–" the child started.

"No, one dance and then to bed. That was the bargain," Christiane said.

Sarah pouted, but was carried off to bed in spite of it.

Evan smoothly drew Christiane onto the floor as the next dance began. At first they stepped, turned, and bowed in silence while he studied her face. Finally he spoke, "You are beautiful tonight."

"Thank you, Mr. Marsh."

"I wonder how many times you have been told that?"

She analyzed his even tone and could not guess his intent. "I beg your pardon?"

"I have had you to myself here. It is not easy to adjust to so much competition."

"Mr. Marsh, I–"

"I know. You need say nothing. Enjoy yourself tonight and I will enjoy watching you."

She looked as puzzled as she felt.

He spoke no more, merely smiled. When the dance ended, he escorted her to the buffet table. Sliced, honey-glazed hams, breads, canapés and intricate desserts tempted them. They munched the delicious fare and sipped wine punch silently as they watched the dancing. They finished and Christiane looked up at him. He smiled slowly again. "Now I leave you fed and ready to dance." He bowed and walked away. Immediately John was at her elbow, leading her out onto the floor.

She lost count of the dances and her partners. As one of the few single women and the prettiest at the party, she was in constant demand. Even the aloof Hamilton claimed her hand. As always dancing made her heart beat faster and her face flush with excitement. Throughout the evening she felt Evan's gaze on her, but he did not claim another dance. It was a grand evening. She only wished her dress had done the occasion justice. She should have worn her brown taffeta and her mother's rubies.

Oh, oh, Christiane is sounding a bit over confident. Will economic independence lead her astray again? And what about Evan Marsh?

BTW, Louise M Gouge chose Liz V as the winner of a copy of The Wedding Season. Congratulations, Liz!–Lyn

Tweet

Chapter Twenty Scene 4 La Belle Christiane

If you've just discovered this free read, click Archived Free Read and start at the beginning.

La Belle Christiane

2011 Copyright Lyn Cote

All rights reserved

Part Three

Chapter Twenty Scene 4

The next evening the musicians were warming up discordantly in the New Room, a large banquet hall. The room was as yet undecorated though the Palladian windows already set the tone of elegant symmetry. The guests, a mere trickle fifteen minutes before, were now an advancing brigade. The butler loudly announced their names as they began the short receiving line. Christiane watched them enter with some apprehension. She had not participated in society for almost four years. She had been at ease with the officers, but she still dreaded facing other women in a formal situation. She realized that even the most minor slight might destroy her new confidence.

Little Sarah bounced ecstatically beside her. The presence of her daughter was comforting and she did not mind being upstaged by her child. Tonight she would prefer it. Looking down, she admonished the little girl again, "Remember you can only stay a short while. Then you must go to bed."

Sarah Renee gave her a disgruntled look, but nodded. They walked slowly around the floor, hand in hand. Christiane wore a navy blue bombazine gown. Its lines were severe and sedate. Her hair was pulled back simply much to Sally's dismay. Sally had longed to show her expertise in hair-styling, but to no avail. Christiane had even resisted the temptation to decorate herself with her mother's jewels. She wore only a simple sapphire pendant.

Outwardly calm, she watched the short receiving line, consisting only of the Washingtons and Rochambeau. Washington's pride and pleasure showed through his formality. His oldest friends and neighbors were being presented to a French general, whom Washington would shortly command as the allied commander-in-chief. Rochambeau greeted the guests with a natural charm that brought immediate smiles to the ladies and gentlemen. The ribbon of arrivals finally ended. Only about twenty couples had been invited. Christiane was relieved to see that most of them were in their middle or older years. The only young men in the room were the French and American officers.

Sarah garnered much attention as Christiane showed her around the ballroom. The little girl was eager to share her excitement and talked to anyone who would listen. Her language was quite advanced for her age except for a tendency to substitute "W" for "R" which made her sound even more endearing. Christiane introduced herself as Mrs. Kruger, a friend of the Washington's. All were polite and cordial. If they knew of her past, they made no mention.

Christiane sighed and watched her daughter with pleasure. The gold and red flowers in vases around the dance floor, the happy voices, the aromas from the buffet table all delighted her senses. It promised to be a lovely evening.

"Ladies and gentlemen," General Washington lifted his voice above the hum. "Friends and neighbors, thank you again for coming this evening. I hope that you will all enjoy yourselves as I intend to. The dancing may now begin. Musicians, please." As if on cue, the bows all struck together. The couples paired off and began to move around the pinewood floor to the stately minuet. Christiane turned to go to a corner and found Evan Marsh and John Laurens in front of her. She had not intended to dance tonight, not wishing to allow herself to be seen as "available." Her mouth tightened.

A voice from behind her broke the tension, "Madame, may I claim your first dance?" It was General Rochambeau. The other two men looked at him with some chagrin.

"I am sorry, General, but my daughter…I…," Christiane fumbled.

"Your daughter will enjoy to see you dance," he stumbled in English.

"Yes. Yes." Sarah jumped up and down.

"Please, Sarah Renee, mind your manners," Christiane murmured.

"Go ahead, Mrs. Kruger," Evan said politely. "I will claim Mistress Kruger for this dance." Without waiting for an answer, he reached down and lifted the little girl up into his arms and when they joined the dancers, he set her on her feet across from him.

Christiane looked at her old friend John apologetically. He smiled and stepped away. Rochambeau touched her hand and they took their place smoothly. Soon a spontaneous smile spread over Christiane's face. It had been so long since she had danced. And why shouldn't she? The new confidence of the afternoon began to re-assert itself.

"It will not work, madame," Rochambeau said quietly in French.

"I beg your pardon, mon general?"

"Trying to hide your beauty will never succeed. Don't attempt it."

She pursed her lips and decided to answer directly. "I only wished not to call attention to myself."

"Will a moth ignore a flame? No, madame, do not carry out a charade. You are a beautiful woman just as your mother was. Don't waste your beauty."

"You knew my mother?" Christiane's heart sped up.

"Only from a distance. She was too grand for a mere officer to approach."

Suddenly tears threatened Christiane.

"Please do not think that we were gossiping, but I was curious about you and the Marquis confided in me. Be assured I will not reveal your family background. Though I wonder why you have not. Certainly your family is one to be proud of."

She gave a bittersweet smile. "You speak like a Frenchman, sir. Americans view life differently. And I am an American now also."

"That may be, but you certainly do not fit the provincial mode, n'est pas?"

"Perhaps I do not." She followed his lead, striking a pose.

"Your life is much before you. Do not rush for consistency. Very few find it and when they do, they call it boredom."

She had to smile at this. "Your advice is very kind." The dance ended.

"Now I will leave you to your many admirers. Merci, madame." He left her side before she could reply.

Evan and her maid Sally who held Sarah in her arms joined her. "Sally, you are right on time."

"Mama, please–" the child started.

"No, one dance and then to bed. That was the bargain," Christiane said.

Sarah pouted, but was carried off to bed in spite of it.

Evan smoothly drew Christiane onto the floor as the next dance began. At first they stepped, turned, and bowed in silence while he studied her face. Finally he spoke, "You are beautiful tonight."

"Thank you, Mr. Marsh."

"I wonder how many times you have been told that?"

She analyzed his even tone and could not guess his intent. "I beg your pardon?"

"I have had you to myself here. It is not easy to adjust to so much competition."

"Mr. Marsh, I–"

"I know. You need say nothing. Enjoy yourself tonight and I will enjoy watching you."

She looked as puzzled as she felt.

He spoke no more, merely smiled. When the dance ended, he escorted her to the buffet table. Sliced, honey-glazed hams, breads, canapés and intricate desserts tempted them. They munched the delicious fare and sipped wine punch silently as they watched the dancing. They finished and Christiane looked up at him. He smiled slowly again. "Now I leave you fed and ready to dance." He bowed and walked away. Immediately John was at her elbow, leading her out onto the floor.

She lost count of the dances and her partners. As one of the few single women and the prettiest at the party, she was in constant demand. Even the aloof Hamilton claimed her hand. As always dancing made her heart beat faster and her face flush with excitement. Throughout the evening she felt Evan's gaze on her, but he did not claim another dance. It was a grand evening. She only wished her dress had done the occasion justice. She should have worn her brown taffeta and her mother's rubies.