Paulette scoffed, “Impossible, my brother’s head is filled with laws and statues.”
“Statutes.”
“He will be impossible to persuade,” she said, waving her hand dismissively.
“Let me try. I’ll say I’d like to discuss Louisa and the baby, little Celeste. That topic might be good for three hours.” Vanessa rose to her feet, gathering her parcels.
“Mon Dieu,my head, already it is aching, and you wish me to socialize? What is the phrase?Do the pretty?"
Vanessa laughed. “Nonsense, I know what has you concerned. You are afraid he will start into one of his brotherly lectures.” She extended her hand to help her friend to stand. Groaning, Paulette accepted the aid.
Vanessa laughed. “Come on, you, the one who is never tired. Let’s accost your brother before my stomach begins to grumble in a highly unladylike fashion.”
“It would never dare,” Paulette stoutly said as they made their way out of the park and headed for Rue de Chartres.
The wide streets, muddy just two days before, were dry, and a dusty haze, kicked up from the passing swarm of people and carts, glowed in the air. Paulette and Vanessa threaded their way quickly through the traffic, almost sagging with relief when they reached Charles Chaumonde’s tidy little town house with its first-floor law offices facing the street.
“Mr. Danielson was correct,” Vanessa said with a laugh as she reached forward to open the French doors leading to the office. “Trade has increased. I don’t recall this many people about since the victory celebration for General Jackson!"
"Our city, she is important, no?"
“Very,” Vanessa answered with pride.
A little bell tinkled as she opened the office door, commanding the attention of a young clerk seated by a high desk at the back of the room. He laid down his quill and slid off the stool. “Good morning, Miss Mannion, Miss Chaumonde.”
His eyes only briefly touched Vanessa, his attention centered on Paulette. Vanessa compressed her lips tightly for a moment to conquer a threatening smile. She cleared her throat to remind the infatuated young man of her presence. “Mr. Pierot, is Mr. Chaumonde available?”
He looked toward Vanessa and blushed guiltily. “Uh- uh . . . Yes! Yes, he is. Just a moment and I’ll . . . I’ll inform him you’re here.” He scurried past them, his eyes darting toward Paulette, and disappeared down a short corridor. “Paulette, for shame, teasing that young man so.”
Her companion raised a faintly haughty eyebrow. “I? I do not. I cannot help it if the man admires me.”
“But you do not discourage him either,” Vanessa ruefully pointed out. She laid her packages on the floor and flexed her cramped fingers.
Paulette shrugged. “Such admiration is a woman’s due."
"And you see to it that you receive more than your fair share!”
“Are we sniping at one another, Vanessa?”
“Oh, Paulette, I apologize, but you have an ease of manners with the men that I admire and am jealous to possess. You amaze me, for you are so young to practice such wiles.”
“It is not that I am so young. It is you who are too serious. Just as you wish to know and understand trade, you wish to understand all that surrounds you. You expend your energy thinking rather than feeling. A waste.” Her cheeks dimpled."Et ce n’est pas tres amusant.”
“Still speaking French, Paulette?”
Paulette started guiltily at the sound of her brother’s voice, then twirled around to hurl herself into his arms. “Charles!Mon frere,it has been too long!”
Charles gave Vanessa a wry look. “And if I were to see her more often, she would accuse me of being a meddlesome big brother. I fear I cannot win.” He spread his hands deprecatingly, then gently set his sister away from him. “Would that I could believe your sincerity, little one."
"Oh, you are impossible! I cannot even greet you with affection without you doubting me. Vanessa, I can see it was a mistake to come. Let us go.”
As Vanessa knew Paulette’s demonstration of sisterly affection lacked the depths of sincerity she professed, she was not inclined to humor her. The truth was, Paulette was glad she was not staying at her brother’s country estate while her father was in Washington and her usual chaperone, her aunt, Madame Teresa Rouchardier, was aiding Louisa with the baby. Louisa and the infant were ensconced on their small plantation ten miles out of town for fear of yellow fever. Paulette knew that soon it would be summer, and they would all retire to the country to flee the contagion which swept through the city every late summer and early fall claiming untold lives. Until that time, she wanted to taste the fruits of society: to flirt, shop, and dance until she dropped.
Charles strolled over to Vanessa’s side and claimed her hands in his. “And you, how are you today? You appear, I do not know, tense, drawn like a bowstring perhaps, before the arrow is released.”
“I? No. There is a great deal on my mind, that’s all.”
Paulette strolled over to the French doors and watched the traffic in the street. “Thoughts of all her suitors occupy her mind,” she said over her shoulder.
