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"And had a child, a daughter?" he continued.
"Yes. Her name is Pearl. She is living here with me now."
"Ruby's husband is quite distraught, I imagine."
I nodded. "How is your grandmother, Madame Clairborne?" I asked.
"My grandmother passed away three months ago."
"Oh, I'm sorry."
"Yes. She suffered more than anyone knew. Her life, despite her wealth, was not a happy life. But she lived to see me regain my sight and play in great concert halls."
"That must have made her very happy. And your cousin, the Iron Lady who ran Greenwood? Is she still lording it over all the young women?"
He smiled. "No. My cousin retired shortly after my grandmother's passing and was replaced by a much gentler and kinder woman, Mrs. Waverly." He smiled. "Your family doesn't have to be afraid of sending Pearl there someday."
"That's good," I said.
He took out a pen and a pad. "Perhaps you would be so kind as to give me the name and address of the hospital where your sister is being treated. I would like to send some flowers."
I told him and he jotted it down.
"Well, I don't want to take up any more of your time. This is a trying period for you and your family." He stood up and I rose slowly. He picked up the tickets and brought them to me, placing them in my hands. "I hope you and your husband will be able to attend the concert," he said. He held on to my fingers and fixed his dark brown eyes on mine with such intensity, I had to look down. When I looked up again, he was smiling. "You will recognize the piece, I'm sure," he whispered.
"Louis . ."
"I ask no questions, madame. I hope only that you will be in the audience."
"I will."
"Very good then."
I walked him to the front door, where Aubrey gave him his hat. Then Louis turned to me.
"I want you to know that your sister was a major influence on my life. She touched me deeply and restored my desire not only to live, but to continue my music. Her sweet, innocent nature, her pure outlook on things, restored my own faith in life and has given me the inspiration to write what I hope people will consider significant music. You should be very proud of her."
"I am," I said.
"We'll all pray for her, then."
"Yes, we'll all pray," I said. The tears were trickling down my cheeks, but I made no attempt to wipe them away. "God bless you," I whispered, and Louis nodded and left. My heart sunk in my chest like a rock in the swamp canal. I finally wiped away my tears.
One lie spawns another, Grandmere Catherine used to say. And then the lies feed upon each other like snakes feasting on their young.
How many more lies would I have to tell? How much deeper did my deceptions have to go before I could live in peace with the man I loved? Louis knew the truth, discerned who I was. It made perfect sense. He had known me mostly through my voice, my touch. He had gone beneath the surface because the surface was dark to him, so he recognized me instantly. And yet he understood there were reasons for the switch of identities and he didn't challenge or do anything to jeopardize the intricate illusion Beau and I had conceived and performed. Louis cared for me too much to ask embarrassing questions.
When Beau returned home that day, I told him about Louis's visit.
"I remember him, remember you talking about him all the time. Do you think he'll keep what he knows to himself?"
"Oh yes, Beau. Absolutely."
"Perhaps we shouldn't attend that concert," Beau suggested.
"I must go. He expects me to and I want to go." I spoke so firmly that Beau raised his eyebrows. He thought a moment.
"It's not the sort of thing Gisselle would attend," he warned.
