Read Under the Cajun Moon Online

Authors: Mindy Starns Clark

Tags: #Mystery, #Romance, #Contemporary, #Inspirational

Under the Cajun Moon (27 page)

BOOK: Under the Cajun Moon
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“Finishing school,” I echoed. I knew she had gone to a finishing school at some point in her life, but I had always thought it was when she was a teenager.

“Yes, so she could step in as hostess when the restaurant opened.”

“Oh, right.”

“It was amazing. We were all floored when she came back. I mean, gone was the crass, bleached blonde exotic dancer who went by the stage name of Fifi LaFlame, and in her place was this other woman, the elegant, classy Lola Ledet. Your dad knew all along that Lola had it in her. She just needed a little polishing around the edges.”

TWENTY-THREE

F
RANCE, 1719
J
ACQUES

No question, this was one message Jacques would have to deliver in person. After all he had seen and heard today, he knew Papa’s little violation of confidentiality was the least of the issues to be dealt with, one of no real consequence. Greater by far was the swindle perpetrated by M. Law, a man who had just made a very public promise to two hundred citizens of France, a promise he had no intention of fulfilling. As if in one brilliant flash, Jacques understood everything now, how this whole event was
supposed
to have gone today.

If M. Freneau had brought back the trunk he was supposed to have brought, the statuettes up on the stage would have been the gilded ones. Law’s ploy was to promise solid gold fleur-de-lis to the crowd but in reality give them only gilded fleur-de-lis instead. Thus duped, the people would have seen the trunk carted off to the ship and loaded in the cargo hold in full view, and everyone involved would have thought that the promised treasure was real. Given that this deception would not be discovered for three years, Law must have thought he would deal with the repercussions later, when the offended parties were too far away and too poor to have any legal recourse.

If that were the case, why bother with having the real ones made at all? If the real ones were never meant to see the light of day upon this stage or be carried off to the New World, what was their point?

Jacques began working his way through the murmuring, shifting crowd as he thought about that.
Why had Law bothered with making the real set at all?
Jacques could think of several reasons.

To start rumors and get people talking,
which would help draw a crowd.

To trick the royal goldsmith himself into testifying to their validity.
After all, he made them. Of course he thought they were valid.

To trick the assayer into performing public tests on the one and only statuette on that stage today that really was solid gold.
Once the assayer’s test proved it, the audience extrapolated, as Law wanted them to, that the proof applied to
all
of the statuettes, not just that one. What the audience—and indeed the experts—had failed to consider was that the statuette Law had tested was the one that had been presented to him by the royal goldsmith, not one of the statuettes from the trunk.

To use all of the above to make people to want the gold so badly they’d be willing to go across an ocean for it.

Jacques thought of Law’s comment, when he’d said to the crowd,
If you don’t mind, I plan to keep this extra one myself, as a commemorative of this grand and glorious day
. What a liar! The only reason Law had kept that one for himself was because he knew it was real—and that the others were all fakes.

As far as Law knew, the other real ones were currently secreted away in a distant, isolated location where a goldsmith who had been paid to keep his mouth shut was quickly melting them down into bars. Had things not gone wrong and Papa been able to do as he had been told, by morning there would have been no evidence left in France of this grand deception. The gilded statuettes would have been on their way to the New World, the real statuettes would have been transformed into bars and likely moved into Law’s private vault, and no one except Papa, M. Law, and M. Freneau would have known the truth.

Unbelievable.

As it was, now the swindler himself had ended up being the one swindled.

Jacques was tempted to leave well enough alone and let the real gold sail with these two hundred trusting people to the New World as they had been promised. But if he did that, then what would happen two days from now when M. Freneau came back out to pick up the gold bars and learned what had happened? Papa might be held responsible for returning gold he didn’t have.

By the time Jacques reached the stage, the trunk had already been locked up and was being loaded onto a cart bound for La Rochelle with great fanfare. M. Freneau was supervising the loading, but Law and the other two men from the presentation were merely standing nearby, watching the proceedings and chatting softly among themselves. Law’s eyes darted frequently to the sign-up table, where the line was slowly growing longer and longer.

Jacques chose to go to M. Freneau first. After all, there was still a chance that this morning’s mistake hadn’t been a mistake at all. The only way Jacques could know for sure was to speak to Freneau himself.

“Monsieur, a word with you, if you please,” Jacques said to him as politely as he could.

Freneau turned and looked him over, from his sweating brow and windblown hair to the mud on his shoes.

“Sign-ups are over there, boy, not with me,” Freneau said, gesturing toward the table and dismissing him.

“I have to talk to you about the statuettes. I am Jacques Soliel, Henri Soliel’s son.”

“Sorry, don’t know the man.”

“That’s funny, because you were with him just this morning, about ten miles past Charenton. Remember? He loaded the trunk with gilded statuettes while you tried to get yourself a hot breakfast and only came away with a biscuit.”

Freneau’s head snapped up, eyes wide with shock. He managed to recover quickly, but at least Jacques knew he had his attention now.

“That was a private arrangement between him and me,” he hissed,
moving in close to Jacques so no one else would overhear their conversation. “What do you want?”

“I came to deliver a letter from my father,” Jacques said, pulling it from his pocket and handing it to Freneau.

He tore it open and quickly read it, Jacques studying his features as he did. The surprise and fear on his face told Jacques what he needed to know, that the mistake was genuine and not yet another part of this complicated ruse.

“What does he mean I took the wrong cart? I took the cart he rolled out to me!”

“Yes, but I was the one who loaded the trunk for him, and he didn’t realize that I had moved the carts around a bit while loading. It was my mistake for moving the carts, his mistake for not double-checking them, and your mistake for hitching your horse to it without verifying that you had the right load.”

Glancing around, Freneau crumbled the letter and shoved it deep into his pocket, his face flushing a brilliant red.

“So what you’re telling me is that the real statuettes are here in this trunk, about to be loaded on the boat bound for the New World?”

“Yes, sir.”

A dozen competing thoughts seemed to flash across the man’s features as he considered the ramifications of what had happened.

“Please, we must discuss this further in private. Can you wait for me to finish here and then we can talk on the way to La Rochelle? You can ride in my carriage. There will still be time to rectify the situation, I assure you. I just have to think through the best way to do this.”

Jacques glanced at M. Law, who was at that moment working the crowd, apparently trying to talk more people into signing up. The other two men, the royal goldsmith and the assayer, were just leaving the stage in the opposite direction, likely to head back to their apartments at the Louvre. Were Jacques to call their attention to what had happened here today, they would be angered, yes, and likely mortified and humiliated as well. They had served as pawns in a very clever scheme, after all. But they were good men, honorable and true. They wouldn’t allow M. Law
to go unpunished, nor would they keep silent merely to protect their own interests. Jacques couldn’t be so sure about M. Freneau, as he simply didn’t know him well. If he allowed Freneau to “straighten out this mess” in private, then Jacques would become a party to this swindle as well. His poor father, who hadn’t a dishonest bone in his body, would have had a hand in deceiving two hundred people.

“I must speak to the royal goldsmith,” Jacques said, quickly making his decision. Before Freneau could stop him, he was off and running, around the stage and through the crowds all the way past Les Halles, where he finally caught up with the royal goldsmith and the assayer.

“Sirs! Please! I must speak with you! It is urgent!”

The men paused, but before Jacques could say another word, the assayer had waved over a pair of royal guards who were advancing on him.

“Please! Listen! It is about the gold statuettes! There’s been a tremendous deception!”

At that, the royal goldsmith’s face turned a vivid red, and he began striding away even more quickly. The guards had Jacques tightly in their grip, but no matter how hard he struggled, he couldn’t get free.

“Get this riffraff off the streets,” the assayer said to the guards before trotting ahead to catch up with the other man.

“Please! I am a goldsmith! You must listen to me! You know my father, sir! Henri Soliel!”

At the sound of his father’s name, the two men stopped.

Still red faced, the royal goldsmith marched back to him and told him to be quiet, that if he had something to say about the statuettes, they would discuss them in private.

“If you are Soliel’s son, then I will hear what you have to say,” he hissed. “But not here. Guards, bring this man to the Chambre de Jaune.”

Much to his relief, the guards released their hold on Jacques as the other two men strode away. He didn’t know where they were taking him, but he was happy to get an audience with the royal goldsmith. They had all been pawns of Law and Freneau. Once Jacques explained everything, the royal goldsmith would know what to do.

As it turned out, the Chambre de Jaune was a room at the Louvre, a comfortable sitting room decorated primarily in various shades of yellow. After a stop outside for Jacques to clean the dirt from his shoes, the guard allowed him in and told him to wait. Then the guard left and Jacques was alone.

The room was quite opulent, and ordinarily he would have enjoyed spending time in such a luxurious setting. But today he had no use for material pleasures. He needed to get back to his father, who was slowly dying outside of town.

Jacques didn’t know how much time had passed, but it was at least an hour before the royal goldsmith finally showed up. The man was much calmer now, and when he came into the room he took a seat on the yellow silk sofa and actually apologized for the delay.

“I don’t know what you have to say to me, young man, but I hope it was worth the display you put on out there for the crowd. I only hope your father was not there to see it, because he would have been mortified at your behavior.”

“Sir, my father is on his deathbed right now, hidden away at an old blacksmith’s shop about two hours east of town.” Jacques went on to explain everything, starting with the secret commission that had come to his father and all that had happened since, ending with his conclusions about M. Law’s intentions and the swindle he had perpetrated. As Jacques talked, the man across from him seemed to grow more and more upset. When Jacques’ story was done, he was relieved to see that the man was giving him the benefit of the doubt.

“These are very serious accusations, young Soliel,” he said. “If you are not telling me the truth, I am afraid there will be consequences. You will have been guilty of slandering the names and reputations of M. Law and M. Freneau.”

Jacques sat up straight and looked the man directly in the eye.

“All you need do to see that I am telling the truth is come with me to the workshop where my father now lies dying and see the second set of statuettes for yourself. Once you have, you will understand. We are both victims in this situation.”

“Very well. For your father’s sake, a man I have long known and respected, I will do as you ask. Please wait here while I make the necessary arrangements.”

BOOK: Under the Cajun Moon
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