Wronged (The Cuvier Widows Book 1) Page 2

  The mansion on Josephine Street was brimming with guests as Louis glanced around wondering if any of the other “wives” were in attendance. He observed Marian Cuvier as she walked through the mourners, carrying herself in an almost aristocratic manner, her head held high. The scandal had leapt from the front page of the newspapers, shocking Louis with its implications for the business. How could a man do to his wife and children what Jean had done to Marian? Louis felt almost sorry for her.

  However, that didn’t change his need to sell Cuvier Shipping and with Jean out of the way, selling the business should be an easy conclusion. He would find a buyer for the business, push the paperwork through quickly and then present the widow with the sale. Cuvier Shipping would make her a wealthy widow who could escape the damaging scandal of her husband’s death.

  “Excuse me,” a young woman said, drawing his attention from the lovely Mrs. Cuvier.

  “I do not believe we’ve met. Were you a friend of Jean’s?”

  The dark-haired older woman gazed at him with questioning green eyes, and Louis was a little amazed at how forward she seemed.

  Louis smiled. “I’m Louis Fournet, Jean’s business partner.”

  “I am happy to meet you. Jean spent little time here. We never had the opportunity to meet his business associates.”

  “Who did you say you were?” he questioned.

  “Excuse me. I should have introduced myself. I’m Claire Bienvenu,” she said extending her hand. “Mrs. Cuvier’s sister.”

  Louis nodded. “Nice to meet you. I intend to speak to Mrs. Cuvier before I leave. How is she?”

  Claire smiled. “She’s holding up well. Marian’s life has centered around her children for many years.”

  Louis noticed the two children at Mrs. Cuvier’s side. The boy looked to be about ten years old and the girl at least six. For a moment he felt sad as he realized his own son should have been close to the boy’s age by now.

  He watched Marian reach down and pat her son on the arm in a comforting gesture.

  “Those are nice-looking children.”

  “They’re the only decent thing Jean did in his life,” she glanced at him quickly to check his reaction. “I’m sorry, I’m not very good at hiding my feelings for my dead brother-in-law.”

  “That’s quite all right,” Louis said thinking maybe he should stand here with this woman a little longer. The more he learned about Marian Cuvier, the better he would understand her.

  “So tell me, Mrs. Bienvenu, do you know your sister’s plans, now that Jean is gone? Has she said anything?” he asked.

  She smiled. “You’ll have to ask her about that. I know she would want to meet you. Let me get her.”

  Before he could respond, Claire walked toward Mrs. Cuvier. He watched the woman approach Marian Cuvier and whisper something in her ear. She glanced up, her eyes meeting his across the room. Smoke-gray eyes, the color of the moss that hung from the cypress trees, met and held his stare. He nodded in her direction. No one would ever have questioned Jean’s taste when it came to women.

  Marian Cuvier represented the genteel woman who lived a life of privilege. She made a beautiful widow, stunning, in fact. Surely she would want to rid herself of Jean’s business. However, her husband’s infidelities seriously threatened her position in society and would keep her name in the paper in the months to come.

  Most men kept mistresses, but Jean had played a dangerous game of marrying more than one woman at a time and eventually the conquests had cost him his life. Current gossip said one of the widows had killed Louis’s partner.

  He watched Marian approach, both children clinging to her waist, their eyes large with grief. She turned her large gray eyes on him and he smiled. “Mr. Fournet, I am pleased to make your acquaintance.”

  “Mrs. Cuvier,” he said bowing over her outstretched hand. “I’m terribly sorry for your loss. Jean was a character that will be hard to replace.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Fournet, I quite agree.”

  He chuckled at the memory of the newspaper articles fresh in his mind. “Sometime in the next week I’d like to call on you to discuss the business.”

  “What about the business, Mr. Fournet? Everything is well, I presume?” she said, her eyes narrowing.

  “Everything’s fine. I just wanted to discuss some options we have.”

  She raised her brow. “The reading of the will is tomorrow morning and I’m sure you’ll be present to hear Jean’s bequests.”

  “Yes, I’ll be there. Perhaps when I call on you next week I could give you a brief report on the current status of Cuvier Shipping,” he said, not wanting to mention the fact he intended to sell the shipping company.

  “That’s an excellent suggestion,” she said.

  He noted with interest the way her cool gray eyes assessed him as if she were deciding if he was an adversary or a foe. But then again, right now perhaps she felt that any man was an enemy after Jean’s betrayal.

  “Once again, let me offer my condolences to you and your children on the loss of your husband,” he said, with a polite nod.

  “Then I will see you tomorrow,” she said, and walked on through the crowd of people.

  He watched her move away, her back straight, her head held high, and the gentle swish of her skirts tempting. Somehow the quiet temperate woman he imagined beneath that widow’s garb appeared sharper than he anticipated. Yet she intrigued him as she moved about the room. A quiet sense of strength seemed to emanate from her.

  Somehow he had expected a quiet mousy woman who could easily be convinced that selling would be in her best interest. Unless he’d misunderstood her, the widow was far more than just a pretty face who had been easily deceived by her husband.

  Selling the business could take a little longer than he estimated, but he would be getting rid of Cuvier Shipping whether the lovely widow wanted to sell or not.

  Chapter Two

  Marian picked up her skirts in one hand as she climbed the steps to the office of Drew Soulier, her husband’s attorney. At the top of the steps, she put her hand to her belly to quell the butterflies rioting in her stomach. Shouldn’t a wife know the details of her husband’s estate? Would she have known if she were about to become penniless?

  So far, government code seemed easier to uncover than the family financial secrets. A thorough search through Jean’s desk revealed only that the man organized nothing and kept no detailed records of the family income at home.

  The thought of experiencing another painful truth regarding her husband this week would send her screaming into the street

  “Mrs. Cuvier!” someone yelled.

  Marian turned at the sound of her name to see a man she didn’t recognize running down the street toward her, shouting her name.

  “Mrs. Cuvier, wait! I want to ask you a few questions!”

  She stood, bewildered, on the steps of the attorney’s office, unable to move, staring as the man ran closer and closer. The smell of sandalwood tickled her nose and a sense of being surrounded pervaded her.

  Behind her, a deep masculine voice said, “I think it would be a good idea if we went inside before that reporter reaches us,” which penetrated the fog that seemed to have enshrouded her these last few days.

  She turned slightly and glanced up into eyes the color of royalty, a deeper blue than the wisteria that bloomed in springtime. They were so close and until this moment she never realized how tall Louis Fournet stood.

  Moving her hand from her waist, she gripped her reticule and turned as he opened the door, bowing his dark brown head toward her as he gestured for her to proceed.

  “After you,” he said, a smile widening his face, accentuating the dimple that cleft his chin, adding a touch of masculine ruggedness to his otherwise smooth face.

  “Thank you,” she said, pulling the skirt of her dress to the side as she quickly entered the lawyer’s office.

  Mr. Fournet shut the door firmly behind her and turned the lock. “I’m locking the doo
r, Drew,” he called. “The press knows we’re here.”

  “Quick thinking, Louis,” Drew Soulier replied, approaching Marian, his walk smooth, his face serious. Dark and regal, the man looked like a sober lawyer, except for the twinkle in his green eyes. “Mrs. Cuvier, how are you?”

  “I’m fine, Mr. Soulier,” she said, and then glanced about the room. She felt awkward, unsure of what to do.

  A slight cough drew her gaze to the two women who claimed to be Jean’s wives, each one standing stiffly on opposite sides of the room. Though she expected they would be represented at the reading, she had hoped they would send their attorneys, rather than appear themselves.

  They stood awkwardly, not looking at one another, staring off into space. Marian wanted to curse her dead husband for the situation he’d created. Hell wasn’t good enough for one who had hurt her and their children so much.

  Drew saw her looking at the two women and whispered, “I thought it would be wise for them to hear Jean’s last will and testament. But if you’d be more comfortable, I’ll send them away.”

  “No,” she said quickly, trying to cover her resentment. “Let us all hear Jean’s wishes at the same time,” Marian said, her heart cringing with dread.

  “All right, as you wish,” Drew replied, and turned toward the other women. “Ladies, tea and refreshments are in my office. Please go inside so we can get started.”

  He motioned them to proceed.

  Marian entered the lawyer’s office and glanced around the dark paneled room. She turned and watched the women as they entered, the tension in the room almost unbearable. The men seemed poised to step between them in the unlikely event a fight should break out.

  Layla entered her eyes down, refusing to look at Marian, while Nicole walked through the door with her head held high, and her eyes red-rimmed as if she had been crying. Jean’s death appeared to have shocked them and she wondered if they had really cared for her dead husband.

  Drew closed the door enclosing them all together and Nicole nodded her head in Marian’s direction. “Mrs. Cuvier.”

  Marian returned her head bob, and then turned her attention to Layla, who stood with her back straight, her eyes staring at a distant object. She looked so young and fragile.

  “Mrs. C-c—” Layla stumbled over the name.

  “I think it would so much easier if we dropped the formalness and called each other by our given names,” Marian said, glancing at each woman.

  Layla nodded, “Please, I’m going back to my maiden name anyway.”

  “I think that’s wise,” Marian said curtly, trying to remember they were victims, as was she.

  A tense silence greeted her and for a few moments her words seemed to hang suspended in the air. Suddenly she realized they were both looking to her and she felt compelled to speak her mind.

  “This is an extremely awkward situation we find ourselves in. The press is outside just waiting for us to succumb to arguing over whatever crumbs Jean has tossed our way.” She sighed and stared at them. “Ladies, I have no desire to come to blows over a man who deceived me like my ... our dead husband. I only wish to take care of my children and live in peace without them being tarnished by their father’s scandal.”

  She paused and glanced at each woman. “Keep in mind, I shall certainly do what I must to protect my babies.”

  Layla let out a long sigh. “I understand. But Jean lied to me as well.”

  Nicole removed her hat from her carefully coiffed blonde hair and laid the bonnet on a table nearby. “Excuse me: I loved Jean very much. Though I can’t help but wonder why he didn’t tell me the truth.” She took out her handkerchief and dabbed her eyes. “It’s so unfair that he died knowing all the reasons he did this but keeping them from us. Surely there’s an explanation.”

  “I’m sure he could give you one, but why do you care? He lied to all of us. If he were alive, he wouldn’t tell you the truth. He would just invent some new excuse to protect himself,” Marian said, wondering at the woman’s blindness to her husband, a man who hadn’t cared for anyone but himself.

  Nicole shook her head in disagreement, but didn’t dispute Marian’s comments. “But I loved him!”

  “We all did at some time in our life,” Marian said, attempting to keep the sarcasm out of her voice, knowing she’d failed, and feeling like an idiot because of Jean’s betrayal.

  “I hated him,” Layla stated her voice quivering with emotion.

  The room became silent as they all stared at her. She was the one the police suspected. A shiver went through Marian.

  “Ladies, we need to get started,” Drew said standing beside the door ending their impromptu confessions. “Why don’t you all take a seat?”

  The lawyer seated the three women in chairs placed strategically apart, while Louis Fournet stood at the back of the room, his hands across his chest, a lock of deep brown hair falling over his forehead. He gazed at Marian and raised his darkened brows in a questioning way. Marian frowned at him and wondered what his look meant

  Drew cleared his throat “Before I read the will, I want to acknowledge some facts and let you all know why I invited Louis Fournet. He is co-owner of Cuvier Shipping and for that reason I requested his presence here today.” He paused, looking at each of them. “I must clarify my position in this difficult situation. If I had known of Jean entering into any legal act of marriage with Nicole or Layla, I would have advised against such an unlawful arrangement. I knew nothing of your supposed marriages.”

  Marian felt a sense of relief that at least Jean’s lawyer had not been involved in his treachery.

  Drew glanced down at the will he held in his hands holding them all in suspense. “According to Louisiana law the only legal marriage the state recognizes is the first one to Marian Cuvier. I’m sorry to say, Nicole, that your marriage and Layla’s are not binding and therefore unless he names you specifically in the will, you will receive nothing.”

  Both women gazed at Drew, their eyes widening, the shock of the news seeming to stun them.

  “If you had been his mistress and he’d named you in the will, then you would inherit. But as an illegal spouse you receive nothing unless you’re named in the will.”

  He cleared his throat and turned to Layla. “Jean wrote this will four years ago.” He paused and gazed with sympathy at the young woman. “I’m sorry, but the will was written before your marriage.”

  A gasp could be heard. Layla opened her mouth— the words seeming to hang suspended—before she finally said, “I have nothing?” she asked perplexed. “What will I do? Where will I go?”

  She stood, her eyes seeming to glaze over. “You don’t understand! Jean bankrupted my father’s business. My father made him marry me, just so I would be taken care of. Our shipping company had been the family business for over three generations before it was taken over by Cuvier Shipping. I have no means of support I have nothing!”

  Drew swallowed and shook his head. “I’m sorry, Layla. Legally, everything belongs to Jean’s estate, including the house and the business.”

  The girl swallowed and glanced around the room, her eyes wide with disbelief. “I have to leave my home?”

  “Yes, it’s in Jean’s name.”

  Her eyes pooled with tears as she tried to absorb this startling revelation.

  “How long before I have to get out of the house?” she asked, visibly trembling.

  “Jean appointed me executor of his will. I’ll give you thirty days to find another residence. Is that all right Marian?” he asked his green eyes dark with worry.

  Marian knew she wasn’t supposed to feel sympathy for the young woman, but she couldn’t help herself. She hated what Jean had done to all of them.

  “Yes, please give her all the time she needs to find another place to live.”

  “Thank you.” Layla stood, her face completely ashen. “I have to leave—I can’t stay—I have to think about what I’m going to do. I must get out of here.”

  Flingi
ng open the door to Drew’s office, she ran out into the entry way. A sob echoed in the entry hall as she fumbled with the lock and then yanked open the outside door and disappeared as the door slammed.

  “Someone should go after her,” Marian said, her voice sounding stilted to her own ears. “We can’t just let her go like that!”

  Drew stood up and walked to the door. He shouted a young man’s name. The clerk came from the back of the building.

  “Eric, go after that young woman and make sure she makes it back to the hotel safely.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Drew shut his office door again, and returned to the, chair behind his desk.

  Marian shuddered, feeling as though some evil had touched her with the realization of Jean’s deception. “This is dreadful.”

  “What about me?” Nicole asked. “The plantation is in my name.” Her voice broke and a sob escaped. “We never got around to putting his name on the deed.”

  “If it’s in your name, then your home is your own,” Drew said taking a deep breath. “Let’s finish this.”

  He proceeded to read Jean’s last will and testament, as Marian sat waiting expectantly for the moment of revelation. The moment when they found out they were wealthy widows.

  After several minutes Drew paused and looked at Louis. “Regarding Cuvier Shipping—I entrust the running of the business to my partner Louis Fournet until my son, Philip Cuvier, reaches the age of understanding. My son’s guardian, his mother Marian Cuvier, will vote or act in my son’s best interest until he reaches the age of eighteen.”

  Marian glanced at Louis, noticing the tightening of his expression. An unreadable look graced his face, except for one little place above his temple that pulsed with impatience.

  Drew finished reading the will and laid it down on the desk.

  “That’s it?” Nicole asked. “He left me nothing?”

  “I’m sorry, Nicole,” Drew said, the office silent.