Love Finds You in New Orleans(88)
“Yes, Father. I understand. Thank you.”
“God be with you and with them.”
Lottie wanted to run down the aisle to Agnes, she felt so relieved. She had no idea how she would pass the information on to the family, but she trusted that all she had to do was trust.
Chapter Thirty-Six
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That night as she lay in bed, Lottie considered how to make this plan work. Earlier, she thought she had the problem solved. She would write a note and find someone to pass it on. But it was unlikely they would be able to read, and she couldn’t take that chance. Lottie would eventually be invited to the Bastion home, but not until after the formal engagement. Ruthie had heard rumors, and she might know them, but her baby could be delivered any day and Lottie refused to risk involving her. As much as she might have liked to have an excuse to talk to him, she didn’t think Gabriel would know Paul’s slaves.
There was only one person who truly knew Paul Bastion well enough to know the answer. Paul’s placée. But could she be trusted? Lottie didn’t know who she was, how to find her, or what she even looked like. Gabriel knew about her, but that didn’t mean he knew her. And then she realized the answer. Of course. Justine. She could ask Isabelle. The Dumas family was a shrimp net that information flowed through. All the little shrimp escaped, but not the big ones. And Paul was like one of those huge crabs trapped in the net, in the wrong place at the wrong time.
The next morning, Lottie scrambled out of bed. She had to be at the Dumases’ early, before Justine set off on another one of those lessons or lunch or whatever she occupied her days with lately. By the time Agnes came to wake her, Lottie was dressed and ready to leave.
“Where you going? Ain’t nothing happenin’ dis early dat you gotta git to except breakfast down the stairs.”
“I am just going to Justine’s house, and I do not need you to chaperone me four houses away. I will be back soon.” Lottie headed out the door before Agnes or her grandparents could find a reason why she shouldn’t.
* * * * *
Lottie was pouring herself a cup of coffee when her grandparents came in for breakfast.
“My, you seem quite energetic this morning, my p’tit. You must be feeling better,” her grandfather said as he came over to pour his own cup. He kissed her on the top of her head. “It’s good to see you smile.”
She kissed him on the cheek. “Yes, and it is going to be a wonderful day.”
Her plan was coming together. When she had knocked on the Dumases’ door, Isabelle opened it. As God would have it, Ruthie was in labor and Isabelle had come to help. Lottie didn’t elaborate. She asked Isabelle if she could find out the name of Paul’s placée and where she lived. Isabelle didn’t flinch when Lottie said she needed the information today. And she didn’t ask questions. “I have no idea when this baby will decide to let go of Ruthie, so can you come back after lunch? François will be home then, and he’s not yet left for the office. He can track this information down between now and then. Men gossip too, but their gossip is always much more reliable.”
By lunch, Ruthie had a son who overcame the indignity of being delivered of his mother when he learned that the same body that housed him could also feed him. Isabelle was his self-declared grandmother, already quibbling about his name. Ruthie wanted Isaac because it reminded her of Isabelle’s name. Isabelle thought he should be Laurent Junior. Madame Dumas settled the argument. “Laurent, when you decide on a name for your son, and we hope it is soon, please inform us.”
And not long after that, François came home with the name Serafina Lividaus and an address.
* * * * *
Lottie selected a muted-green polished cotton gown with velvet cuffs on the long sleeves and panels in the skirt, only slightly off the shoulders and absent the fripperies she detested that cluttered and ruined dresses. If she flaunted herself, she seemed desperate. If she showed up in a dowdy gown, she appeared unmannered. She wanted Serafina to be attentive to what she said, not what she wore.
Who could she trust to deliver her there? Suellen and cooking occupied Agnes. Abram was the only logical choice because, though she loved Justine, she talked too much and couldn’t be trusted. She wouldn’t need to stay long. Serafina was going to help or not, and Lottie knew the risk was high that she might confess everything to Paul to win his favor. She knew not to underestimate the education, etiquette, or insight of a placée. But if Serafina possessed all those things and Paul did not show her a different face, which she doubted he would because he lacked the discipline to do so, then in her heart Serafina knew who he really was.