Paulette slammed the rouge pot on the vanity top and rose swiftly, turning to face her aunt, her natural blush garishly augmented with the red touches she had carefully contrived.
“What are you about?Une jeune fille, it isincroyable!”her aunt sputtered, her arms waving in wide circles in counterpoints to the swaying rolls of fat on her arms. She stalked over to Paulette.
“But Aunt Teresa,” began Paulette mulishly.
“No,I do not listen to you. You, you are a child. I should never have let you stay with the Mannions,” she proclaimed as she whipped a lace-edged handkerchief out of the voluminous folds of her red gown.
“What?” protested Vanessa.
“Non, Tante,listen to me,s'il vous plait,” Paulette cried, trying to fight off her aunt to prevent her from sweeping the handkerchief roughly across her cheeks.
Her aunt backed her against the vanity, her massive form pinning her in place. “I should have known my first duty was to you. You are but anenfant.” One enormous hand clamped around Paulette’s chin to hold her steady. She clucked her tongue and shook her head as she wiped at the offending rouge. “I should have insisted you stay here with me instead of letting you stay with the Mannions.” She turned Paulette’s head to cleanse the other cheek. “I was weak, but no more!” she declared, wheezing heavily.
Vanessa and Adeline looked at each other in alarm. They were concerned for the woman’s health; her breathing sounded labored to their ears. Vanessa glided forward, her arm outstretched. “Madame Rouchardier,” she began.
The woman let go of Paulette, who sagged down against the vanity and turned on Vanessa.
“You! It is your fault. You have filledma petite’shead with fast ideas. You should be ashamed of yourself, a woman who should be married now and have a home of her ownavec les petits bebés,"she spat, her large bosom heaving.
“Me!”
“Madame, you are unfair!” protested Adeline.
Vanessa stood riveted, wide-eyed shock leaving her helpless. Dazed, she looked beyond Madame Rouchardier to Paulette, who was struggling to stand upright and straighten the fall of her lavender skirts. Paulette caught her eye. Mortification was written plainly across her features. She bit her lower lip and looked contrite but remained silent.
“Paulette?” queried Vanessa softly.
“You shall not talk to mybebé,"Madame said adamantly, turning to enfold Paulette in a crushing embrace.
“What is going on in here?" demanded Amanda Mannion from the doorway. “Guests are arriving and your voices are carrying clear down the hall.”
“I am surprised at you, Amanda, or did you not know you were nursing a viper to your breast?”
“Teresa, what are you talking about?”
“Your daughter, she has been poisoning my Paulette, she—”
“No, no, Tante,” cried Paulette, tears streaming prettily down her cheeks as she fought her way free of her aunt’s enfolding arms. “It was not Vanessa or Adeline. In truth, they tried to dissuade me, but in my conceit, I would not listen.”
“I do not believe this, and withLe Comtearriving momentarily,” wailed Teresa Rouchardier.
“It is true, it was all me! I thought, I thought the rouge would make me more worldly and . . . what Count?” Paulette suddenly asked, her aunt's last words filtering through. The tears stopped as quickly as they began.
“Why, Monsieur Baligny’s nephew of course,Le ComteAndre Baligny de Sachire.”
“He is a real count?”
“Mais, oui!He’s over here visiting, but he has extensive properties in France.”
Vanessa relaxed and slumped against the large canopied bed, exchanging amused glances with her mother and sister.
Paulette’s eyes gleamed brightly, and she captured her aunt’s chubby fingers in her hands.“TanteTeresa, I am sorry to be such a trial to you. In truth, the Mannions have been very good to me. I regret to say this, but . . .” She paused, throwing back her head and looking her aunt squarely in the eye. “I am a Chaumonde, and I will be honest. You owe the Mannions an apology. The rouge was truly my idea, and they tried hard to dissuade me, but me,” she shrugged and relaxed, smiling roguishly. “Sometimes, I do not listen that well. You will no longer be mad at me or them, will you?” she coaxed soothingly, her large dark eyes luminous with her regret.
“Ah,mon enfant,you are the image of yourmaman,and just as cozening in your manners. All right. For you, my pet, I forgive and beg the Mannions’ pardon.”
“Thank you, best-of-all-aunts,” enthused Paulette.
Her aunt laid a hand against her chest. “But now, I fear I must lie down, all the excitement . . . .”
