"What did you tell him?" I asked.

"I told him to do whatever he wanted, called his bluff. The word on the street is he's not doing so well. He's been gambling and lost most of what he had managed to get from the estate. Now the bank is threatening to foreclose on his apartment building," Beau said.

"He'll be trouble, Beau, like a pebble in your shoe. You think you shook it out, but after you start walking again, it's still there."

Beau laughed. "Don't worry. I’ll shake him out," he replied. "He's not much of a challenge."

I was a little surprised at Beau's arrogance. I feared he had been around Gisselle too long.

The sky had turned completed gray and overcast by the time we pulled into Cypress Woods. The dreary feeling it imposed on me was thickened by the lack of activity around the great house. Where were the gardeners, the grounds staff? Cypress Woods always looked like a bee-hive to anyone, buzzing with bustle and hustle. Paul was so proud of our property, he wouldn't tolerate a weed in the garden. Both Beau and I noticed that some of the oil wells were not being worked as efficiently. The pall that had fallen over the bayou mansion and its spectacular surroundings was as heavy as the humidity and almost as oppressive.

"Looks deserted," Beau mumbled. My heart tripped and then began to pound as we stopped in front of the house. Pearl had fallen asleep in her seat. "I'll get her," Beau said.

The fear I had had about returning to Cypress Woods as Gisselle proved valid. Suddenly I was a stranger in what had been my own precious home. I would have to ring the doorbell and wait, and those who greeted me would greet me as an outsider. My heart would burst with the desire to cry out the truth. Beau sensed my anxiety and, with Pearl asleep on his shoulder, squeezed my hand and smiled reassuringly.

"Take it easy. You'll do just fine," he said, but uneasiness pervaded my entire being.

We walked up to the front door and rang. Moments later, James greeted us.

I could see from the expression on his face, the way his eyes had darkened and the lines had deepened, that he was very distraught and cheerless. Our servants were always so involved with us and so close that our moods affected them.

"Hello, James," I said, unable to effect the condescending tone Gisselle usually had when she addressed servants, whether they be her servants or someone else's. James gazed at me with dull, empty eyes. He didn't appear to hear my true self in my voice, having no reason to think I was other than my sister, Gisselle, whom I knew he didn't particularly care for anyway.

"Good afternoon, madame. Monsieur," he said, bowing his head slightly. Then he saw Pearl and his eyes brightened some. "And how is the little one?"

"Fine," I said.

"Is Monsieur Tate at home?" Beau asked.

"He returned from the hospital just a short while ago," James said, stepping back. "Mademoiselle Tate and Madame Pitot are with him in the study," he added. I glanced at Beau. It would be the first time Paul's sisters would see me as Gisselle.

James led us down the corridor. How strange it felt to walk through the house now and look at the things that had been mine. I gazed up the stairway toward what had been my suite. Beau and I exchanged another glance, and I saw he was deeply worried about me now that I was actually in the house. I could feel the flush in my face. My heart was pounding, but I took a deep breath and nodded.

"I'm all right," I whispered.

James paused at the doorway of the study. "Monsieur and Madame Andreas," he announced, and stepped back.

Paul was on the sofa, slouched down in the corner, a glass of bourbon in his hand. His hair was disheveled and he looked like he had slept in his clothes. Jeanne sat across from him, her eyes bloodshot from crying, and Toby sat on the other end of the sofa, looking dour, her hands folded in her lap.

But Jeanne's eyes brightened when she set eyes on us, and for a moment, my heart skipped. Did she know it was me and not my sister? I almost wished she did. However, that wasn't what had lifted the gloom for her. It was the sight of Pearl.

"The baby!" she cried, and got up. "How is she doing?"

"Just fine," Beau said.

Pearl, realizing we had stopped moving, lifted her head and squinted as she tweaked her nose like a rabbit.

"Oh, darling, sweet Pearl," Jeanne cried. "Let me hold her."

Beau handed her to Jeanne, whom Pearl immediately recognized. She smiled and Jeanne flooded her cheeks with kisses, squeezing her lovingly to her.

"Well now," Paul said, "this is an unexpected honor, Monsieur and Madame Andreas in the flesh." His lips moved to twist into a grotesque mockery.

"Anything new, Paul?" I asked quickly, ignoring his sarcasm.

"New?" He looked at Toby, pretending we had asked the simplest nonchalant question. "Anything new, Toby?"

"There's no change for the better," Toby said sadly. "In fact, this morning they decided to put her on a breathing apparatus."

"Care for a drink, Beau?" Paul said, lifting his glass.

"No, none for me, thanks."

"Too early in the day for you Creoles?" he quipped.

"Paul," Jeanne snapped. "Why don't you say hello to your child?"

Paul gazed at Pearl a moment and then nodded.

"Bring her to me," he asked. Jeanne did so. Paul didn't take her from Jeanne, but he reached up and stroked Pearl's hair before kissing her cheek. Then he sat back and sighed so deeply, I thought his heart had shattered in his chest.

"I'll take the baby for a little walk and get her something to eat," Jeanne said quickly.

"Good idea," Toby said. "I'll go speak to Letty and see about getting you something to eat, too."

"Don't trouble anyone," Beau said.

"Trouble anyone?" Paul lifted his eyes and laughed. "Anyone here troubled?"

Toby paused in front of us and smirked. "He's been drinking heavily ever since Ruby was taken to the hospital," she explained. "He's stopped looking after his business and just sits around now wallowing in self-pity. My parents are at their wits' end, especially my mother. She doesn't eat; she doesn't sleep worrying about him. See if you can do anything with him," she whispered. "I'm sorry."

"It's all right," Beau said.

"What's that?" Paul cried. "Did someone say it's all right?"

After Toby left, I crossed the room and stood in front of Paul and folded my arms across my chest to glare down at him sternly.

"What are you trying to prove, Paul? What are you doing to yourself?"

"Nothing. I'm not proving anything." He lifted his arms and shrugged. "Just accepting what Fate has decided will be my destiny. Right from the beginning, I was chasing a dream. Every time I thought I had turned it to reality, Fate came busting in to splatter the dream over the bayou like so much swamp mud." He paused to gaze up at me and his eyes narrowed in the strangest dark way.

"You didn't know her, but Ruby's Grandmère Catherine used to say if you swim against the tide, you'll drown," he said. It was as if he had poked a stick in my ribs.

"Stop it, Paul. Stop this overacting. The three of us know the truth. There's no need to pretend like this in front of ourselves."

"Truth? Did you mention the truth? Funny word coming from your lips, or anyone's lips for that matter," he added, and then looked up again. "What is the truth? Is it that love is really a cruel sword we turn on ourselves, exquisite torment? Or is it that only the chosen, the lucky few," he said, gazing up at Beau, "are meant to be happy on this earth? Under what star were you born that you should realize such happiness, Monsieur Beau Andreas?"

"I don't know the answer to that, Paul," Beau said softly. "But I do know that what you promised to Ruby must be kept."

"Oh, I always keep my promises," he said, eyeing me now. "I'm not the sort who doesn't."

"Paul, please . . ."

"It's all right," he muttered. He finished his drink in a gulp. "I have to lie down awhile." He struggled to stand, falling back and then pulling himself up again. "You two make yourselves at home. My sisters will look after you."

I looked at Beau desperately.

"Hey, Paul, listen," Beau said in a reasonable tone of voice, "let us help you with this burden now. We realize you took on too much. Let's move Gisselle to a hospital in New Orleans and—"

"Move her to a hospital in New Orleans just to ease my burden?" He shook his right forefinger in Beau's face. "You're speaking about the woman I love," Paul said, swaying. He smiled. "I pledged to have and to hold, through sickness and through health, until death do us part."

"Paul . . ."

He pushed me aside. "I've got to lie down," he said, and stumbled his way out of the room.

"Let him get some sleep," Beau said. "Later he'll sober up and be more sensible."

I nodded, but a moment later, we heard Paul fall on the stairway. We ran out and found he had rolled down a few steps and was sprawled at the base. James was already at his side, trying to get him up.

"Paul!" I cried.

Beau helped James get him to his feet. They each took an arm around their shoulders and carried him up the stairs, his head bobbing. I sat down on a hall bench and buried my face in my hands.

"He's all right," Beau assured me when he returned. "James and I got him to bed."

"This is horrible, Beau. We should have never let him become such an intricate part of this. I don't know what I was thinking."

"He wanted to do it; it made it all easier. We can't blame ourselves for the way he's acting. He might very well have become this way once you left anyway, Ruby. After a while he'll come to his senses. You'll see."