from top to bottom. Over it, she wore a cloak, low at
the neck and fastened with a diamond clasp at the
right breast. She looked like a princess from a fairy
tale.
She was nearly six feet tall herself and stood as
correct as a fashion model. With her beautiful looks, her 'slim, curvaceous figure, she could have easily been one. Her pale reddish blond hair lay softly over her shoulders, not a strand disobedient. She had big, light blue eyes and a mouth I couldn't have drawn more perfectly. It was she who spoke first after she
took a good look at me.
"Is this some sort of joke, Beau, something you
and Gisselle concocted for Mardi Gras?"
"No, madame," Beau said.
"It's no joke," my father said, stepping into the
room and not swinging his eyes from me for an
instant. "This is not Gisselle. Hello," he said. "Hello." We continued to stare at each other,
neither able to shift his gaze, he appearing as eager to
visually devour me as I was to devour him.
"You found her on our doorstep?" Daphne
asked Beau.
"Yes, madame," he replied. "She was turning
away, losing her courage to knock on the front door
and present herself," he revealed. Finally, I swung my
eyes to Daphne and saw a look in her face that seemed
to suggest she wished I had.
"I'm glad you came along, Beau," Pierre said.
"You did the right thing. Thank you."
Beau beamed. My father's appreciation and
approval were obviously very important to him. "You came from Houma?" my father asked. I
nodded and Daphne Dumas gasped and brought her
hands to her chest. She and my father exchanged a
look and then Daphne gestured toward Beau with her
head.
