Josephine: Bride of Louisiana (American Mail-Order Bride 18) Read Online Free PDF Page A

addition to the one she was wearing.
    Bernadette sighed as she shook out the dresses and placed them in the wardrobe. “Josephine, did Pierre state in his letter why he needed a bride in such a hurry?”
    Now she might get some questions answered and her heart leapt to her throat in anticipation. She’d been wondering for weeks, it seemed, to get this very answer and she turned from the mirror and crossed over to Bernadette.
    She glanced again at her scuffed, worn shoes and hoped that Bernadette hadn’t noticed that they were the only pair she had. “No, he didn’t. He did say that it was important that his new wife speak French and be familiar with French culture and sophisticated society.”
    “Yes. I’m sure he did.”
    Bernadette opened a door of the cupboard beside the vanity. She pulled out a towel and some soap that Josephine could smell from where she was standing...and the scent was heavenly. Her bones felt heavy and tired, and as much as she wanted to hear about her future husband, she wanted a bath more and could barely take her eyes from the steaming hot water that she longed to step into.
    Bernadette looked from Josephine to the tub, laughing as she set the towel and soap on the bench of the vanity and scooted it over to the tub. “I see this is not the best time to keep your full attention. Enjoy your bath, and I’ll be up later when supper is ready.”
    Josephine snapped out of her spell for a moment and turned to the kind housekeeper.
    “Oh, I would be happy to help cook.”
    Bernadette cocked her head to one side and folded her arms over her chest. “That is usually my responsibility, but I would be happy to have you in the kitchen--if you choose. It is not something that will be expected of you here. Normally, ladies leave that to the servants. But you are welcome if you would like. I’m making lapin tonight and could use the help.”
    Josephine’s stomach lurched as she remembered the last time she’d tried to prepare rabbit for her father. He’d been a stickler for French cuisine, even though he’d been in America for several years--or maybe because of that--and her mother had tried to teach Josephine everything she knew about the dishes her father loved. Rabbit had been one of his favorites and the last time she’d tried to make it, the results were disastrous.
    She gulped and looked at Bernadette. Jerome had said that it was critical that she be the epitome of all things French. She had, truth be told, fibbed a bit in her response to Pierre, and thought maybe God was trying to punish her by that particular dish being on the menu on her very first night in her new home.
    She could think of no way out of it, so she sighed and said, “Please let me know when you start. I’d love to help.”
    Bernadette smiled and nodded. “Thank you. I’ll be back in a few hours.”
    Josephine hung her head as the door closed behind Bernadette. What had she been thinking? It was going to take a miracle for her to play this role--and she still didn’t even know why it was so important.
    She slipped off her dress and dipped her hand in the water, pleased that it was so warm. She eased in and sighed as she leaned back, the tension in her muscles easing. She wiggled her toes and reached for the washcloth and soap Bernadette had laid out for her. As she scrubbed the grime of the journey from her skin and worked the rose-scented suds into her hair, she thought of Michelle. Was her introduction to her new home worrisome for her, too? She hoped not.
    She soaked in the tub until her fingers looked like prunes and the breeze from the window sent shivers through her. As she dried herself with the soft towel, she began to hum but stopped. Au Claire De La Lune was her mother’s favorite French lullaby and she’d learned it from a friend when she was a young girl. It had always soothed her when her mother sang it, so she supposed it was fitting now.
    She continued to hum the familiar lullaby as she fingered the