Sweet Piracy Read Free

the family — are to have neighbors.”
    “You don’t mean—” Caroline began.
    “But I do, Mam’zelle. I mean that Felicity, the plantation which marches beside Beau Repos, has been sold.”
    “Bah,” Estelle said. “Rumors! We have been hearing such anytime these past five months, and no one has yet arrived to take down the shutters and sweep out the spiders.”
    “This time, Mam’zelle, there is something more substantial than a rumor to excite us. This time there is a name to put to the new owner.”
    “A name?” Amélie inquired as the tutor paused expectantly. “Who?”
    “The Marquis de Rochefort.”
    Their response was all, the tutor could have wished. Amélie dropped her needle. Estelle’s mouth fell open, and Caroline lifted her head to stare at him in amazement.
    “I thought you would be pleased,” M’sieur Philippe murmured, toying with his fan with a small, self-satisfied smile.
    “How do you know?” Estelle demanded, recovering first.
    The tutor shrugged. “It is common knowledge in New Orleans. I had it from a friend who is employed as a clerk in the Governor’s office. The Marquis dined with Governor Claiborne not a week ago, where he made known his intention of settling permanently in this area.”
    “A real marquis,” Amélie breathed, a hint of color stealing into her cheeks.
    “He will not use his title, of course,” M’sieur Philippe said with a look of regret. “So mundane, this republican form of government. Still—”
    “Still, he is a real marquis,” Estelle finished. “I wonder how old he is?”
    “I believe him to be in the vicinity of thirty, Mam’zelle.”
    Estelle made a moue of disappointment. “So old?”
    “Thirty is not old, far from it,” Caroline said in dry remonstrance.
    “No!” M’sieur Philippe made his agreement emphatic.
    “I wonder if he has a wife and children? The little ones here would like new playmates,” Amélie said.
    Caroline glanced at the girl. There was no sign of guile in her soft brown eyes. Her face, with her fine dark hair caught in ringlets on either temple, held nothing but polite interest.
    “There was no mention of a family,” the tutor answered, “though I understand his cousin, a young man a few years his junior, bears him company.”
    “Tante Zizi will be happy,” Amélie commented. “She can probe into his lineage to her heart’s content. It will be a new interest”
    Caroline could find it within herself to be sorry for the Marquis. She had been thoroughly quizzed concerning her own ancestors when she had first come to Beau Repos. She often felt that only the discovery of a belted earl on a lateral branch of her family tree had made her at all acceptable as governess to the Delacroix children.
    “Clothes,” Estelle said abruptly. “We must have new clothes.”
    “Must we?” Amélie asked.
    “But certainly. There are certain to be entertainments given in the honor of the Marquis. He requires to be welcomed, does he not?”
    “You go too fast,” Caroline said. “First your father must call on the Marquis and discover if he is the kind of gentlemen who would be acceptable company for his family.”
    “Acceptable? He is a marquis!” Estelle objected.
    “That does not necessarily make him a gentleman.”
    “Mam’zelle!” the tutor protested.
    “He was acceptable to Governor Claiborne,” Estelle pointed out.
    “Even so, it is for M’sieur Delacroix to decide. When that is done will be time enough for you to worry about the entertainments for our new neighbor. You should not expect to be included in everything. You have not yet made your curtsy to the ton .”
    “I am aware, but in the country and on such a special occasion it might be overlooked, don’t you think? I am sure Maman will agree if Papa can be persuaded. Oh, isn’t it exciting?”
    “What is exciting?”
    The new entrant into the conversation was Théophile Delacroix. He sauntered up the steep steps with their curved bannisters in