"Why? What did he say?"

"He said he was going through with this only because he was convinced it was what you wanted and what you thought would make you happy, but if he heard just one negative thing about our relationship, if I did anything to make you unhappy, he would expose the exchange and reveal our deception. He assured me he didn't care about his own reputation or what the consequences might be for him. I believe him, so don't you ever tell him anything bad," Beau said, half smiling.

"There won't be anything bad to tell him, Beau."

"No. There won't," he promised. He kissed me again and started to caress me, but I was exhausted and still too nervous.

"Let's save our honeymoon nights for New Orleans," he decided.

I nodded and we fell asleep in each other's arms.

Our plan was to return immediately to New Orleans, explaining that something terrible had happened to my sister, Ruby, and we had to care for her child in the interim. No one seemed particularly upset about our leaving the château so abruptly. On the contrary, I thought I saw a look of relief on Gerhart and Anna's faces, and genuine happiness on Jill's.

On the way back to New Orleans, Beau revealed he had let go of all of the servants in the House of Dumas. "Oh no," I said, feeling sorry for them.

"It's all right." He smiled. "They weren't exactly in love with serving Gisselle, and I gave each and every one of them six months' severance salary. It's better that we start with new people. It will make it so much easier for you," he said. I had to agree with that.

For me, returning to the House of Dumas was perhaps the most difficult part of our deception. It was a partly cloudy day in New Orleans, with the sun only teasing the world from time to time with slim rays of sunshine. The shadows cast by the heavy clouds made the streets under the long canopies of spreading oaks darker, and even the beautiful Garden District with its rich, fine homes and extravagant gardens looked sad and depressed to me.

All of the windows in the grand house were dark, the shades drawn in the ivory mansion that had once been my father's happy home. Absent of any activity in and around it, the property looked so deserted and lonely, it made my heart feel as heavy as a lump of lead in my chest. As we drove up to the front gallery, I half expected my stepmother, Daphne, to appear in the doorway and demand to know what we were doing here. But no one appeared; nothing moved except an occasional gray squirrel whose curiosity had been tickled by our arrival.

"We're home," Beau declared. I nodded, my eyes fixed on the tile stairway and front door. "Relax," he said, taking my hand and shaking it as if he could shake the nervousness out of my body. "We're going to do just fine."

I forced a smile and looked hopefully into his summer blue eyes, bright with excitement. How far we had come from that first day when I had arrived secretly from the bayou and he had met me standing in front of the great house, gaping with wonder and filled with trepidation about meeting my real father for the first time. Now it seemed even more ironic and perhaps even prophetic that Beau had mistaken me for Gisselle back then, thinking she had disguised herself as a poor girl for the Mardi Gras costume ball.

Beau gathered our things and I took Pearl into my arms. She gazed at everything with curiosity. I kissed her cheek.

"This is going to be your new home, honey. I hope it has better luck for you than it did for me."

"It will," Beau promised. He marched ahead of us to the front door and unlocked it. He quickly turned on the chandeliers, for the dismal sky made the great foyer cold and dark. The lights made the peach marble floor glitter and illuminated the ceiling mural, the paintings, and the enormous tapestry depicting a grand French palace and gardens. Pearl's eyes were wide with astonishment. She gazed quickly at everything, but she clung to me tightly.

"Right this way, madame," Beau called. His voice echoed through the empty mansion. As he proceeded before us, he turned on whatever lamp or hall light he could. I followed quickly to the beautiful curved stairway with its soft carpeted steps and shiny mahogany balustrade.

Despite its plush antique furniture, its expensive wall hangings, its vast rooms, the grand house had never been a home to me. I was a stranger from a strange land when I came here to live, and at the moment, I felt even more alien. When I had first set eyes on the inside of the mansion, I thought it was more of a museum than it was a house. Now, with the bitter and sad memories still clinging to the walls of my mind, I knew it would take even more of an effort to make it cozy and warm and feel welcome and secure here.

"I thought you might want to make your old room into Pearl's nursery," Beau suggested. He opened the door of what had been my room and stood back, grimacing like a satisfied cat.

"What?"

I gazed in. There was a crib similar to the one Pearl had at Cypress Woods, with a matching dresser and a little desk and chair. My mouth fell open in astonishment.

"How?"

"I came back into New Orleans right after we had our conversation and paid a furniture dealer twice the price to get everything set up for her," he said. "Then I rushed back to the ranch."

I shook my head in amazement.

"I want this to work," he said softly but determinedly. "For all of us."

"Oh, Beau." Tears came to my eyes. Pearl did seem happy and was eager to explore her new surroundings.

"I'll make some phone calls and start the ball rolling for us to get some new servants. The agency will send candidates for butler and maid and cook."

"What will people think once they hear about all the servants leaving?" I asked.

"Nothing. It wouldn't be anything unexpected. I'm sure they were all mumbling complaints about Gisselle anyway. After Daphne's death and Bruce's departure from the house, she became so oppressive and demanding, I felt sorry for them. The fact is, I had to plead and beg with them not to quit." He paused. "Gisselle and I took Daphne and Pierre's suite," he said. "Might as well make yourself at home," he suggested.

I took Pearl into my arms again and followed him across the hall. Very little had been changed in the suite. It still had its great canopy bed and elaborate velvet drapes over the windows. However, the vanity table was a mess and there were some garments tossed over the love seat.

"Gisselle wasn't the neatest woman. She didn't respect her possessions because she replaced them so often. We were always arguing about that," Beau said. The closet door was open and I could see her vast array of dresses, skirts, and blouses, some dangling from their hangers precariously, some actually on the floor of the closet.

"Gisselle's going to have some remarkable character changes," I said.

Beau laughed. "Not too quickly, however," he warned. The phone rang and we both looked at it.

"We don't have to answer it," he said.

"It might be Paul. I've got to start sometime; it might as well be immediately, Beau. If I can't pull this off, we'd better know right away."

He nodded and looked apprehensive as I started toward the phone.

"Wait," he said. "If it's one of her friends, I'll know which one." He picked up the receiver. "Hello." He listened. "Yes, she's right here. It's Pauline," he told me, and held out the receiver. "She can be very bitchy," he whispered.

I nodded and took the phone into my trembling fingers. "Hello."

"Gisselle? I called the ranch and they said you had left for New Orleans. I thought you were staying another week. I got Peter to agree to go. I thought we were going to have a party," she whined. "It's just lucky I decided to call first. I might have driven all the way out there for nothing. What happened? Why didn't you call me?" she demanded angrily.

I took a deep breath, recalled how my sister spoke on the phone, and replied. "What happened?" I said. "Only a disaster."

"What?" Pauline exclaimed.

"My sister came to visit and was bitten by mosquitoes," I explained as if it were my sister's fault.

"That's a disaster?"

"She came down with . . . Beau, what was that stupid disease again?"

He smiled at me.

"Encepha something," I said after pretending to listen. "She's in a coma and I had to take the baby home with me."

"Baby?"

"My sister's baby."

"You're taking care of a baby?" she asked, astonished.

"Until I hire someone," I said petulantly.

"Why?"

"Nothing, except I know what you think of children."

"You don't know everything about me, Pauline," I snapped in my best Gisselle tone of voice.

"Excuse me?"

"You're excused."

"I just meant . . ."

"I know what you meant. Look, I don't have time to waste on the phone with stupid gossip right now. I have some major responsibilities."

"I'm sorry I won't bother you."

"Fine. 'Bye," I said, and cradled the receiver.

"That was incredible," Beau said. "For a moment I thought you were Gisselle and I had really taken Ruby back to Cypress Woods."

Even Pearl was looking up at me with an expression of confusion.

I breathed relief. Maybe, I thought, this wouldn't be as hard as I had imagined. In fact, Beau was so impressed with my performance, he decided we should go to one of the fine restaurants he and Gisselle often frequented and let the New Orleans social community learn the story as soon as possible.

Butterflies beat small wings of panic in my stomach. "Beau, should we? Maybe it's too soon."

"Nonsense," he said with confidence. "You settle in, choose something to wear, something Gisselle," he added pointedly, "and I'll take care of some business. Welcome home, darling," he said, kissing me softly on the lips. My heart fluttered as he hurried out and I turned to look at my sister's wardrobe.