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you came along. He loved me," she whined. "That
was all the truth we needed . . . love."
A pall fell among us for a moment. Gladys
sucked in her anger and closed her eyes.
Beau decided to proceed. "Your son, realizing
the love between Ruby and myself, agreed to help us
be together. When Gisselle became seriously ill, he
volunteered to take her in and pretend she was Ruby
so that Ruby could become Gisselle and we could be
man and wife."
She opened her eyes and laughed in a way that
chilled my blood. "I know all that, but I also know he
had little choice. She probably threatened to tell the
world he wasn't my son," she said, her flinty eyes
aimed at me.
"I would never. . ."
"You'd say anything now, so don't try," she
advised.
"Madame," Beau said, stepping forward.
"What's done is done. Paul did help. He intended for
us to live with our daughter and be happy. What
you're doing now is defeating what Paul himself tried
to accomplish."
She stared up at Beau for a moment, and as she
did so, the gossamer strands of sanity seemed to shred
before they snapped behind her eyes. "My poor
granddaughter has no parents now. Her mother was
buried and her father will be interred beside her." "Madame Tate, why force us to go to court over
this and put everyone through the misery again?
Surely you want peace and quiet at this point, and
