Sweet Piracy Read Free Page B

him walk away, Caroline reflected that manners and a stylish bow were two things that should not, in this society, be undervalued.
    Leaning back in her chair with a sigh, she tucked wisps of soft blonde hair into the chignon coiled on the nape of her neck. At times she wondered if she were accomplishing as much as the tutor. It was not easy to handle the volatile Estelle and still remain on terms of friendship with her. The girl’s mother made little attempt to control her, and her father was more likely to laugh and cosset her with bonbons and almond dragées than to establish any kind of discipline. A part of that could be traced to their expectation during the girl’s adolescence of losing their eldest daughter to the cloister, but a far greater portion stemmed from Estelle’s intelligence and high temper. It was impossible to tell what she would take into her head to do next. Only a few weeks ago she had declared her intention of going upon the stage, and had irritated all their nerves by striking dramatic poses at inopportune moments.
    She had the looks for it, classical features, a straight, upright bearing, enormous black eyes, and a cloud of hair so dark it had a blue-black sheen. Such a thing was impossible, however. The theater was the milieu of the demimonde. It was unthinkable that Estelle should join their company.
    Caroline had thought that ambition forgotten until a few moments before when Estelle had displayed her unusual talent for committing lines to memory. It was to be hoped that the arrival of the Marquis would push all such foolish ideas to the back of her mind, and come spring, a suitable parti could be found who could oust them completely.
    Amélie was a different child altogether, Caroline thought, letting her gaze drift to where Estelle’s sister sat diligently plying her needle. The wonder of it was that she had ever found the courage to tell the Mother Superior at the convent where she was a novice that she lacked the vocation to become a nun. It was this momentous decision which had set in motion the Great Adventure, as Estelle liked to term it.
    When the letter had come from Amélie asking to be allowed to come home, Madame Delacroix had been within weeks of accouchement . She could neither travel to France to fetch her daughter nor would she allow her husband to leave her side for that purpose. Caroline had been dispatched to chaperone Amélie on the homeward voyage.
    In the fall of 1814, the war with Britain had seemed stalemated. Except for skirmishes far away near the Canadian border, there was little fighting and much talk of a peace by negotiation.
    Taking ship from New Orleans was not difficult, nor did it seem particularly dangerous. The voyage was smooth and uneventful. They had not so much as a glimpse of the infamous British blockade which had stifled trade in recent years, nor of the privateers set by the United States to combat it.
    Two weeks in France sufficed to cut Amélie’s ties there. The girl was happy, excited at the prospect of seeing her family again. Her leave-taking from the nunnery in the north of France where she had spent the past three years was amicable, though she could not prevent a few tears from falling as they drove away in their carriage.
    The problem arose when it came time to arrange their passage to New Orleans. There was not a ship destined for North America in the harbor at Le Havre, and none was expected for a se’nnight. Caroline was for settling down to wait, but Amélie, after so many years away from her family, was anxious for the reunion. She had set her heart on being with them for Christmas, and, though she did not make a fuss, it was plain that her disappointment would be deep if that proved impossible. Accordingly they removed to the port of Calais. Here, too, they met nothing except delay.
    In the end, their best plan appeared to be to cross the channel to England, and from there take a British vessel sailing for Havana via the West Indies.