“Her name was Mignon DuFossat. I don’t need to describe her… just imagine Lottie’s face. Mignon and her mother had moved to the neighborhood sometime during the months I was pregnant, and since I spent almost all my time off my feet, we didn’t meet until after Gabriel was born.” She paused to look at her son. “You were actually the reason we met,” she said softly. “In addition to having more servants than I thought I needed, Jean Noel insisted on my having a nursemaid. She wanted to do everything for Gabriel. I almost had to beg to tend to my own child.”
“Jean Noel was leaving one day, and I had bundled Gabriel for the stroller, intending to walk after he was gone. Zulime, the nursemaid, tried to walk out the door with the baby, and I wanted to strike her.” An assortment of soft laughter interrupted her. “No, really I did. I called Jean Noel’s name—he’d only taken a few steps—and told him I wanted to stroll my own child and Zulime wasn’t allowing it. Not knowing what a wench she had been the previous week, he told me he didn’t see any harm in letting her do that. It all ended with Zulime leaving with your father.”
“Good for you,” Joseph said, and he clapped a few times as if she had just won a prize fight.
Rosette rewarded him with a smile. She continued, “In the meantime, Mignon heard the noise and came outside, and when I walked by her house, she introduced herself. Fawned over Gabriel, and became a fast friend after that. She hadn’t attended a ball yet, but she always had this notion that when she did, she would find someone she loved. I explained it didn’t work that way. She insisted it could. The first ball was a disaster. She caused all sorts of trouble when a man she didn’t like approached her mother. I think she turned over a table. Of course, he left. Her mother warned her if there was no contract at the second ball, she would sign her over to the asylum.”
“Asylum? The insane asylum? Her mother didn’t mean that, did she?” Alcee asked.
“I wouldn’t doubt it, but it didn’t matter. She met Charles LeClerc that night, and they were besotted with one another. We didn’t see each other as much after he built her house, but we still met enough for me to know he wasn’t a man she had to learn to love. I didn’t think it possible for her to be prettier than she already was, but if you could have seen her face when he walked into a room…like someone lit a thousand candles at one time. And when he looked at her…” She paused, as if she had to bring herself back from decades ago. “You almost had to turn away because you felt like an intruder.
“They wanted to marry. I don’t need to say much more than the LeClercs thought him crazy, told him to come back when he was brought to his senses. They went to Paris, and they married there. Mignon and I exchanged a few letters, but you know how long it all takes. I had written her to tell her that her mother had died of the fever, and a few days later a letter came from her saying they were coming home. They wanted their daughter to meet her grandparents. She asked if I would meet them when they landed. They wanted to stay here, not just arrive unannounced on the LeClercs’ doorstep. Charles planned to go there first.”
She looked at Gabriel, breathed deeply, and continued. “They didn’t know how bad the yellow fever was, and by the time I knew they were coming, it was too late to tell them. That year was so awful. Dead bodies everywhere. They couldn’t bury them fast enough. People tied stones to corpses and threw them into the river. Businesses were closed. Some of the more rank bodies were set on fire. If you went outside, ashes fell like black snow. The morning after they arrived, Charles complained of cramps. By the time we were able to find Dr. Clapp and have him come to the house, Charles’s hands and feet had already turned blue. Yet he would sweat and sweat. He wanted to see his parents. Dr. Clapp said only if he wanted to kill them should he go to them. He died that night. Mignon and I were terrified for our children. I knew Virgine was leaving to go to her protector’s house across the lake. She took Gabriel and Lottie with her. Mignon was so distraught, we had to pull her arms off Lottie. She covered her in kisses. Hours later she was still crying. Charles dead. Her daughter gone. She cried so much, she could barely breathe. At least that’s what I thought. She asked for paper and a quill. That’s when I knew. Mignon, of course, did as well. Charles’s body was not yet out of the house, and she was dying too.”
Joseph handed her his handkerchief. Rosette dried her face, gathered herself, and began again.
“She wrote a letter to Charlotte, and she made me promise not to give it to her until it was time. I remember screaming at her, ‘No. You give it to her. Get well. I don’t want to have to deliver this letter.’ She smiled. Can you believe it? She smiled at me. I told her I would raise Lottie if she wanted me to. She shook her head. Told me to bring Lottie to Charles’s parents. ‘Explain what happened. Tell them Charles and I loved each other, we were happy, but we wanted Lottie to know her family.’ And then she told me and told me and told me. She wanted to make sure I understood, and she made me promise that I would do what she asked me to do. She said, ‘Tell the LeClercs they are to raise Lottie as if she is white. She’ll be able to pass. The rest is up to them.’ I kept that promise.”