The Grand Masquerade (The Bold Women Series Book 4) Read Online Free PDF Page B

in her ear lately, but she had not understood it.
    Margarite is wrong. The spirits would never tell me to leave. Someone has to take care of Papa.
    “ Saint-Christophe appeared to me last night,” Margarite said hoarsely. She gasped for breath, licked her dry lips and said, “He is waiting to carry me across the big river. He waits to guide you away from here too.”
    Ignoring the words, Sydnee stood up, poured fresh water into a basin and soaked a cloth. Kneeling down stiffly, she started to sponge Margarite’s face. When she finished, the old woman said, “Go now to the creek and wash the blood and dirt from your own body.”
    Nodding, Sydnee retrieved a crock of soft soap and rags from the homemade wooden cupboard where Margarite kept her herbs. Before she stepped out the door, she looked back. Margarite was watching her with a faint smile on her lips.
    Baloo and Atlantis accompanied Sydnee to a private spot on Plum Creek where the water ran deep and the trees joined overhead like a giant green umbrella. Vivian seemed to know that Sydnee was weak and did not try to land on her shoulder. Instead she flew from tree to tree as they walked along.
    Sydnee took her shift off and waded in the running water, splashing her body and lathering her skin. It felt good to wash again. Atlantis hopped about chasing frogs, Baloo snapped at flies and Vivian stood guard in an oak tree overhead. The creatures were relieved to be near Sydnee once more. They were frantic all night, hearing her screaming in the shed, but when she emerged at last, they were overcome with joy. Content now just to be near her, they occupied themselves happily.
    Sydnee plugged her nose and dropped back into the water and then lathered and scrubbed her scalp vigorously. When she was done, she scrubbed her blood-soaked shift in the creek, putting the damp garment back on when she crawled out. The moisture would keep her cool until it dried. She tied several rags between her legs to catch the blood still running from childbirth and started back along the creek toward home.
    It was getting dark now, and the bugs were getting thick. She hurried back to the shed, eager to rest again, at least for a while before her father returned. She could feel the energy draining from her body with every step she took.
    When she pulled open the door of the shed, Margarite was looking at her with the same faint smile on her lips.
    “Papa is still not back,” Sydnee said. “I am going to try to sleep again.”
    No response.
    Sydnee looked at Margarite. The woman did not move. She did not blink, the smile frozen on her face. Sydnee’s lips parted, and she stared. Margarite was gone. Dropping to her knees, she sobbed, “ Non, non ! How can I go on without you, ma Mere ?” she cried.
    Sobs wracked her body for what seemed like hours, and when she looked up at last, she realized that Margarite died the moment she stepped out of the shed. They joined eyes and souls at that moment.
    Something caught Sydnee’s attention, and she looked up in the corner. It was the wind chimes jingling in the corner of the room. Margarite was saying goodbye.

 
     
     
     
     
     
    Chapter 4
     
    Victor Sauveterre returned after dark, shortly after Sydnee finished washing and sprinkling Margarite’s body with oils. He entered the shed as she was starting to wrap her. His huge frame filled the door. “Jesus Christ, she’s dead?” he asked.
    Sydnee looked up into his heavily-freckled porcine face and nodded.
    Sauveterre threw his hands up, exclaiming loudly, “Well, that figures. Now I’m out a nigger!”
    Sydnee dropped her head, afraid to aggravate him further. She buried her hands in the pockets of her blue smock.
    “God damn it, she stinks. Get me a lantern. I’ll find a spade.”
    Even though it was dark, the sultry weather made it imperative they bury Margarite immediately. Her father chose a site behind the shed for a shallow grave. When he finished the hole, he returned to the shed