Two husbands and a grandmother

ONCE UPON A TIME there was a girl called Aurore. When she was three years old her mother had a riding accident and died. A year later her father decided that his child needed a mother and married a widow with two daughters, Bernardine and Clotilde. The stepmother, Régine, was a beautiful looking woman: tall, round in all the right places without being fat, with pale blonde hair and pale grey-blue eyes. She wanted a rich father for her two daughters and had married Aurore's father because he lived in a big house with plenty of servants.

To begin with everything seemed fine. The three girls grew up like sisters, played like sisters, were naughty like sisters. Whenever Aurore's father thought the naughtiness of the girls had gone too far he would punish his daughter or give her a good telling off, depending on what she had done. Madame Régine had insisted that she would punish her daughters herself but Bernardine and Clotilde were spoiled by their mother. She never corrected their bad behaviour in any way. She also taught them to be haughty and impolite to the servants and their governess. In her eyes this was acting in a superior way. Bernardine and Clotilde soon discovered that they could always blame Aurore which they frequently did, even if she had tried to stop them. Eventually Aurore had enough of this. She saw it saddened her father that his daughter seemed to be the instigator of the, sometimes wicked, pranks that were played on the staff.
"They'll never be my friends," she thought. "They only want me near so they can blame me for everything. No more! I won't be their scapegoat any longer."
From then on Aurore kept away from her stepsisters as much as possible. She spent more time in her own room or with her father who, over the years, taught her everything she needed to know to run the estate

Ten years passed by quickly. The three girls had become pretty young ladies. Bernardine, who was the eldest, was tall and slim with the pale blond hair and grey-blue eyes of her mother. Clotilde, the youngest of the three, was fairly tall as well and pleasantly plump. She had the same colour eyes as her mother and sister but her hair had a reddish touch to it. Aurore on the other hand was small, petite, with dark hair and big, brown eyes that sparkled with golden lights.

While her stepmother was dreaming of the day her daughters would be old enough to go to party's, Aurore was looking after her father. He had unfortunately become seriously ill and Aurore hardly ever left his bedside. They often talked about Aurore's mother.
One day her father said: "I fear I did the wrong thing, marrying Régine. She never acted as a mother towards you. And her daughters haven't become the sisters and friends I hoped they would be. I didn't want you to be a lonely girl, and I fear you often are."
"Don't think that father. It wasn't as bad as that. They weren't always obnoxious and I had you. I loved spending time with you."
"Thank you for that, Aurore. At least I don't have to feel guilty about you."
He sighed. Aurore knew he felt guilty because he hadn't married Madame Régine out of love but to give his child a new mother. She couldn't tell him that her stepmother wouldn't be heartbroken about that. Just days before she had overheard Madame Régine complaining that her husband's illness lasted too long and that paying for the medicine and doctors was all a waste of money. Aurore didn't want to upset her father, so she just said:
"Don't worry about Régine, father, I'll do right by her."
This visibly calmed him down. Unfortunately all the doctors and medicine, all Aurore's efforts were to no avail. He died shortly after Aurore's fourteenth birthday.

Madame Régine hoped that now finally she could lay her hands on her husband's money and spend it more freely than he had done. When the will was read, however, she learned that he had no money at all but had been living on the income from his work and an annuity that was given him by his first wife. This ended with his life. He had saved some money for his second wife and her children but all the rest, including the house and its contents belonged to Aurore. To add insult to injury she wouldn't even be Aurore's guardian. The stepmother nearly fainted. She cried out, "What am I to do? We'll be turned out in the street without any money! My children will die of hunger!" and she sobbed in a melodramatic way.
"Don't worry," Aurore told her. "You were my father's wife and we've been family for ten years. You can all stay with me in my house."
While she answered: "Thank you child, you're an absolute angel. Bernardine, Clotilde, thank and kiss your sister." Madame Régine was already calculating how much money she could wheedle out of her stepdaughter.

For a while they lived in Aurore's house. However, Madame Régine was disappointed in the amount of money that came her way. Every expense had to be sanctioned by Aurore's guardian who had been financial adviser to the estate since her mother inherited it. Madame Régine wanted money of her own.

Barely a year after the death of her second husband she married again. This time she made sure of her catch. Her new husband was again a widower with a child. But he was also a rich man and master of his own money. As an added bonus he was a count so that the stepmother now was Countess du Bellefleur. She had told him such a heart-breaking story about her kindness to Aurore that the count was absolutely certain that he had found a good mother for his daughter as well as sisters of the same age. Unfortunately, as soon as the new countess saw Sandrine, the count's daughter, she hated her. Sandrine, or Cindy as her father called her, was undoubtedly more beautiful than either Bernardine or Clotilde. Cindy's hair was de colour of molten gold and her eyes were as deep blue as the sky on a cloudless summer's day. She was petite like Aurore and all in all, looked like a fairy.

Countess du Bellefleur kept her cool and was extra friendly to Cindy. The count was pleased with his choice. In fact, he was so pleased that before long he had changed his will and left everything he owned to his new wife in the firm believe that she would take care of his daughter in the event of his untimely death.

Time moves quickly. Two years later everybody said what a good marriage this had been for the count. His daughter Cindy and Aurore had become great friends. They liked to go riding or walking in the surrounding woods while Bernardine and Clotilde were more interested in clothes and jewellery. The count was generous, so they spent most of their time looking in the mirror how beautiful they were in their new outfits.

Then an unexpected letter came for Aurore from Dame Emelyne, her maternal grandmother. She wrote the following:

'My dear granddaughter,

For many years I wanted to write to you, but my husband, your grandfather forbade it. He never forgave your mother for marrying without his consent. That the man of her choice was not wealthy angered him even more.

I heard from friends, who knew your parents, that they were happy together and many a time I tried to persuade your grandfather to let bygones be bygones, especially after you were born. He would not relent.

Two months ago, my husband died and I now feel free to ask you to come to me. Please, forgive an old woman and make the remaining years of my life happy.

Your loving grandmother,

Dame Emelyne.'

Of course Aurore could not refuse this and after a tearful goodbye she went.

Dame Emelyne was so happy when her grandchild arrived. She wanted to know everything about Aurore's childhood and in turn told Aurore everything about her mother's youth. Now Aurore was told the story of her parents; how they had met and fallen in love; her grandfather's rejection of the match because he had wanted a wealthy husband for his daughter and her mother's defiance, leaving the safe environment of her home to marry the man she loved. For the first time she heard about her great-aunt Sophie, sister of her grandfather.
"Sophie had been forced to marry a wealthy man, very much older than she was," Dame Emelyne said. "Her marriage had been a nightmare and her husband's sudden death a liberation that left her a wealthy widow. Unfortunately she could no longer marry the man she loved and she never remarried. Hearing of your parent's plight she decided to help them financially and made them the sole beneficiaries of her will. I saw Sophie one more time after this. She told me that your father was a proud man. When he heard about the will he made Sophie change it so that her money would go only to your mother and after her to the children they might have. When he heard about the will your grandfather refused to see your mother or his sister ever again. "

Aurore's grandmother lived in a fine house in a sleepy, little town where news was already old by the time it arrived, if it made the town at all; where the latest fashion in the shops was last year's and too much finery was looked upon as cheap. So far Aurore's only example had been her stepmother and her taste was more for the ornate. Here with her grandmother Aurore developed a taste for simple elegance, which she preferred to ostentatious splendour for the rest of her life.

Regular as clockwork she sent letters to and received letters from Cindy. Then suddenly she stopped getting replies. She wrote to her stepmother to ask if anything was wrong with her friend but the countess answered that all was well; Cindy just didn't want to write anymore. Aurore thought this very strange, but she could not leave her grandmother alone. The old lady wanted to make up for all those years of longing for her granddaughter. So Aurore stayed with her grandmother.

Their peaceful life could not last forever. The joy at finally having her granddaughter with her had weakened Dame Emelyne more than all the sorrows of a whole life. A month after Aurore's nineteenth birthday she went to have a rest in the afternoon and didn't wake up anymore.

Aurore didn't have any family left except her stepmother and stepsisters. Not a very cheering thought. There were also Cindy and her father though; Cindy, who had become a friend, and her father, who always treated her as one of the family and not as the stepchild of his second wife. Cindy had stopped writing because she had been bored by it, according to the countess. And when had her stepmother ever told the truth, Aurore thought. If Truth were a brick wall she'd still walk right through it. For old times sake she had to find out why Cindy had stopped writing. That was the only reason she needed to go back. If it didn't work out she could always return to her grandmother's house.

After the funeral of her grandmother Aurore wrote to her stepmother and asked whether she could come back. She had decided to address the letter to the countess rather than to the count because he wouldn't feel slighted by this, but she was likely to say no, just because she wasn't asked first. She received a reply by return mail. Of course she could be back, the countess wrote, she would be pleased to see her again and her sisters Bernardine and Clotilde had missed her so much. When would she be back? The countess would arrange a welcome feast for her. No mention of Cindy.

The reason for this uncharacteristic warmth was Aurore's money, increased even by the inheritance from her grandmother. Régine knew that she always had given as freely as she could to pay for the dresses for her and her daughters. Now Aurore no longer had to ask her guardian if she wanted to spend money and it was sorely needed.

But why was it needed if she had married such a wealthy man?