Chapter twenty-five: Kindness of Strangers
Six months later,
A knock at the door caused Violet to stir from her spot at the record player. Angie was taking a nap in the other room and the classical music had indeed started to work it's magic on Violet as easily as it had on her. With a yawn, Violet began to wheel her way towards the front door. Her father had hired a nanny and maid to help her out a bit, but she still liked to do things for herself. She was also living in his old flat, so it wasn't unusual to have people come by looking for him. She wheels her way towards the front door and opens it.
There's a tall man, holding a briefcase looking down at her. "Hello," she inquires. "may I help you?"
"Yes, I hope you can. My name is Sarjant Allard." The man says as he removes his hat. He's a tired looking man; his brown eyes show exhaustion. She can tell it's been due to the war, the severe scaring on the left side of his face testified to that. "I'm looking for Miss Violet Shelby."
She stills slightly. "I'm Violet Shelby. How may I help you?"
"I've come all the way from France to meet you, on behalf of the Leah estate."
"Oh!" She exclaims. "I'm so sorry, I didn't realize. Won't you come in?"
"Thank you." He steps inside and looks around the house, as if he's still uncomfortable with civilian life.
"Follow me please." She wheels her way into the parlor. "Would you care for some tea? Or something stronger?"
He pauses and then says. "Actually, tea does sound nice. Thank you."
She rings the bell for her maid to attend her before gesturing for him to sit in her father's chair. Her father had mentioned that soldier's preferred having their backs to the wall, she suspected Mr. Allard would be the same way. Genevieve hurried into the room. "Yes, Miss Shelby?"
"Genevieve, this is Sarjant Allard. Could you please bring us some tea?"
"Yes miss." She curtsied and hurried off.
She turned back to Sarjant Allard. "Well, Mr. Allard. Might I inquire what brings you all the way from France to visit me?"
"A lot actually." He cleared his throat. "To start with, I'd like to express my condolences on the loss of your fiancé, Angier Williams." She nods. "You should know that we're related, as he is a distant cousin of mine."
She frowns slightly. "I don't see how that is possible. Angier had no family." She makes a note to have her father look into Mr. Allard's story.
"That he knew of. You see, it was my uncle, Erik Allard had an affair with his mother."
She nodded. "I remember that."
"And their affair resulted in her getting pregnant with Angier Williams."
Her jaw dropped. "Pardon me, are you say that Mr. Webber wasn't Angier's father?"
"Good God, no." he shakes his head. "He couldn't," he paused and thought about his wording. "well, let's say the man wasn't up to the task and took his frustrations out on her."
"He abused her?" she inquired.
He bit his lip. "From my uncle's telling, it sounds like she was raped and beaten daily. I don't know how he got her to confide in him, but she did and my uncle suggested that he help her get pregnant in order to spare her the nightly torments of Mr. Webber's assaults. "
She blinked. "That was…chivalrously unorthodox of him."
"To say the least." He cleared his throat. "Once she was pregnant, my uncle made sure that the abuse had stopped before moving to the America. Eight years later, his wife died and he returned to England." He paused before adding. "He'd met my aunt in New York."
"I don't judge anyone, Mr. Allard." She pointed out. "I have just given birth to your cousins son, out of wedlock. I'm hardly in a position to judge anyone on the affairs of the heart."
He nods. "My apologies." He clears his throat. "They crossed each others paths and she became a source of comfort to him. In time, that friendship blossomed into love and they began to have a romance. He apparently had proposed to her, she'd accepted his proposal. They were making plans to leave when she was murdered by Mr. Williams."
She exhaled in sympathy. "I am so sorry to hear that. Did your uncle ever marry again?"
"No." He leans back in his chair. "I do remember asking him about her and he said that she was his greatest love and after her, there was no one. He perished in the war, shot down by Germans after helping to smuggle Jewish children out of a concentration camp France. I've been told that all but one of the fifteen children got away safely, so his death wasn't for naught."
"I'm sorry for your loss." She said sympathetically. "Your uncle sounded like a fascinating man."
"Thank you, but in the spirit of romance, they're together now and that knowledge makes me smile."
A tap on the door causes them to look up. It's her nanny, Elizabeth. "Hello, I've brought you your little one while I take my lunch break."
"Thank you." Violet smiles. "Just put her on her blanket."
"Yes miss."
Sarjant leans over and smiles as Elizabeth places Angie on her blanket. Angie looks up and stares at Sarjant with her vibrant green eyes. Violet watched as the two of them had a mini-stare down. Her father had nicknamed Angie, 'the Soul Sucker' because you could get lost in her eyes. "And who's this?"
She smiled. "My daughter, Angie Shelby."
"You named her after her father." He makes a face, causing Angie to stare at him before letting out a gurgling cackle. He shakes his head and looks back up at her. "She's very cute for a baby."
"For a baby?" she asks curiously before asking. "Do you dislike babies in general?"
"Only the ugly ones." He deadpans, causing her to laugh against her will. "Sorry, it's just that my sister and her husband," he shudders. "sorry. They keep making really ugly babies, but I'm going to hold out for their children to be really intelligent. So, in the end, it balances out."
"You're a funny man, Mr. Allard." Genevieve comes in with the tea tray and Violet gestures for her to place it on the table. "How would you like your tea? Any cream, sugar or lemon?"
"I prefer it plain." He clears his throat. "Miss Shelby, is it customary for little Angie to chew on shoes?"
Violet gasps in mortification. "I am so sorry! She's in a phase of chewing everything."
"I see." He stands, carefully slipping off the shoe that Angie is chewing on. He walks over to take his cup of tea.
Violet stares at him. "Your shoe-
"I doubt she'll do much damage. Unless you'd rather she not chew on my shoes."
"I'd rather she not, but if you're really unfazed, I'll indulge her.
Angie let out a gagging sound and they both turned and looked at her as she spit up on his shoe. Sarjant shrugged. "She must have smelled the inside of them."
Violet laughed again as she rang the bell for Genevieve, who hurried back in. "Angie spit up on Mr. Allard's shoe." Genevieve looked at Sarjant's bare foot curiously. "If you don't mind, could you please clean up his shoe?"
"Yes Miss." She picked up the shoe and hurried out of the room.
Sarjant took his cup of tea from her and made his way back to his seat. He blew on it before taking a sip of it, not minding if it burned his tongue. "You know, Mr. Allard, you never said what you wanted to speak to me about." She stated. "You explained your connection to Angier, but you didn't tell me why you were here."
"Yes, my apologizes." He cleared his throat and set his tea to the side so he could give her his full attention. "I served in the war and as you can see," he gestured towards his face. "I was severely injured. Once I was well enough to return home, I took care of my Uncle's estate and he left half of his estate to Angier, which falls to you."
She gasps and shakes her head. "That's impossible!"
"I assure you, my uncle was a fair man." He reaches into his briefcase, looks through the papers before pulling out a few papers. "Here's a copy of his will and a letter addressed to Mr. Williams which detailed the entire story I just relayed to you." She wheels towards him and reaches for the papers, she's briefly scans them. "I apologize for not bringing them here sooner, but my recovery took longer than expected and the Germans had made a mess of the estate. It took some time to get things in order."
"It's alright Mr. Allard, I understand." She clears her throat before looking up at him. "I'd like to sign Angier's share back over to you."
He frowns. "I beg your pardon? Why would you do that?"
"I don't need it." She explains simply. "I already am collecting a share of the Leah estate. And, how are you connected to the Leah estate again?"
"Mr. Leah had given a quarter of his estate to my uncle. One might say it was a consolation prize for bringing love to his daughter. My uncle never touched it, so, again, it goes to you. I am to help you manage it, with your permission, of course."
She stares at him in surprise. "Mr. Allard, I feel as if my daughter and I have no legal claims to this estate, so it should go to you. Please, draw up the papers signing it over to you. I assure you, my daughter and I are financially secure as it is."
He stared at her for a long moment before stating. "You're lucky I'm an honorable man. Other men in my place would have taken the money without a second thought."
"Indeed I am, but you must realize I don't want the money."
He leans forward. "May I suggest this? Why don't you take a quarter of the funds you're entitled to and put it in a fund for your daughter? I'm sure you agree that Mr. Williams would have wanted his daughter well looked after."
She nodded. "That he would have and he did. I inherited his fortune; I am a wealthy enough woman as it is. I don't feel as if I'm entitled to your uncle's money and I'd like for you to take it and use it as he would have."
He bites his lip and nods. "May I make an unorthodox suggestion?"
She nods. "You may."
He reaches into his bag and pulls out some more papers. "This is what you'd be getting from the Leah estate, on my uncle's behalf. As you know, the war has made everything much more difficult on people." She nodded. "As I mentioned, my uncle was killed helping Jewish children escape. There are lots of children without homes and families. You could use his share to help build several orphanages. That way, you are using the funds, as my uncle would have wished. He was a philanthropist."
She paused and titled her head to the side. "That's an idea Mr. Allard, but again, I could just give the money to you and you could do that yourself."
"Yes, but I don't want to accept the money from you." He exhales and rubs his eyes. "You're a stubborn woman, Miss Shelby."
She smirks. "You've no idea."
He exhales and looked upwards at the ceiling. "French women certainly aren't as stubborn as you British."
"My father, is was a gypsy gangster in his younger days." Sarjant jerked in his seat and stared at her. "I get my stubbornness from him."
"Well, I will admit that the British women are much more curious than the French. I can't say I've ever met a gangster's daughter."
"He's retired."
"Still, I'll be on my best behavior." He exhales. "So, is Mr. Williams estate enough for you to live on for the rest of your life? And provide a suitable dowry for your daughter?"
"We shall live well enough." She states. "My father will be leaving a share to me as well, so, I really don't need more money."
He picks up his tea and nods. "So you've said, repeatedly."
She laughs and picks up her tea. "It's not a crime to want a lot of money, Mr. Allard."
"No, it isn't, but most people find it useful."
"I inherit a share from my father, all from Angier, I now find I inherit three quarters of the Leah estate and apparently now, I own a portion of your uncle's estate. That's too much money for a lady like me."
For a while, they drank in comfortable silence. After ten minutes, Mr. Allard spoke again. "Tell me this, did your Mr. Williams leave a lot of papers lying around in his flat?"
She smiled and nodded sadly. "He did." It was still sad to hear Angier mentions, however, she liked how he referred to Angier as hers.
"I don't meant to sound insensitive, but, have you considered going through his papers and publishing those works on his behalf?" at that moment Angie began to cry loudly. She went to put her tea down and pick her up, but he beat her to it. Angie immediately went silent as he picked her up. "She'll leave a ton of men with broken hearts when she's older with eyes like that." He hands her over to Violet. Angie promptly starts crying and Violet bounces her. After a moment he reaches out for her. "May I?"
"Yes, if you don't mind, since you're not fond of babies."
"I'm not as a rule, but," he hoists Angie up into his arms. "as I said, this one is really cute."
She studies him for a moment. Angie is normally shy around people, but she appears to be interested in the scars on his face. She can see Angie touching him bothers him, but he holds up rather well. She clears her throat. "So you really think people would buy Angier's works?"
He nods. "Yes, I think they would. I did some research on his works and he apparently was a very popular journalist. This way, you could continue to support yourself in a way that you feel better about. As Mr. Williams would have wanted you and his child taken care of. You could then use your share of the Leah and Allard estates to help others."
She nods in agreement. "I should like that."
"As we're both aware, the war destroyed many jobs, with a sum like yours, you could help out many in London." He carefully reached into his bag and pulled out a few more papers. "Here's a list of some of the projects I've invested in back in France. It's helping life get back to a sense of normalcy, somewhat."
She nods. "Wars change all of us." She glances at him. "I shall have my father look into this and get his opinion."
He nods. "No worries there. Have your lawyer look at it as well."
"I don't have one."
He shook his head. "Ask your father for his lawyer then and have him review it. How have you managed this long without a lawyer?"
She bit her lip before confessing. "I've not thought of anything other than my daughter Mr. Allard. I don't even know what's become of the shares I did inherit."
How about you use the share of the fortune you don't want and you can hire me as your agent. You and I can work on the books and I'll go about getting it published."
She taps her fingers on the arm of her chair. "Would you permit me to pay your for your time, should I accept?"
"No."
"What if I were to insist, as it would make me feel better? What you chose to do with your salary, would be up to you."
He ponders a moment before nodding. "If you insist, then I suppose I could accept it."
She smiled. "Thank you." Angie let out a loud wail, reaching out for her mother. She smiled and reached for Angie. Sarjant hurried to place her in her arms, causing her to laugh at the look on his face. "Why Sarjant, you look positively terrified."
"Yes, crying females aren't really my strong point."
At that moment, her front door swings opens and her parents bustle in with the family. "Ah, is that my granddaughter?" Her mother came in with Andrei, who was already walking somewhat with her mother's help. Her mother instantly spots Sarjant Allard. "Who are you?"
At those words, her father pokes his head in the room. Violet shakes her head at the suspicious look on her father's face. "Mom, dad, this is Sarjant Allard. He's a cousin of Angier and he came all the way from France to discuss the distribution of his Uncle's fortune. Which again, I've apparently inherited."
"You've inherited so many fortunes it's a wonder the streets aren't strewn with the bodies of men in an attempt to claim it." Her father glances at him. "And how do you know Angier's grandfather?"
"I didn't. My uncle slept with Mr. Williams's mother. He was Mr. Williams father."
Her father let out a gleeful laugh! "I knew Webber couldn't have sired Williams! I knew there was no way."
"Mature, Thomas." Her mother said with disdain before turning to Sarjant. "And this concerns our daughter how?"
"Due to the war, I've lost several members of my family passing away. I've discovered several fortunes, that belonged to my uncle, were to go to Miss Shelby as Mr. Williams was no longer alive. I've made it my mission to take up residence in London, until these things are taken care of and established." He held her father's gaze. "Miss Shelby says she doesn't have a lawyer. Perhaps you'd be good enough to have yours meet with me? Or perhaps hers would recommend a lawyer that may suit to avoid a conflict of interest in the new future?"
Her father looked at Sarjant as if he'd sprouted two heads. "You, give me your card and I'll call you in a few days. Right now, we're going off to have lunch with the family."
"Right. I understand." Sarjant reaches into his pocket for a few cards and nods at her after handing her one. "We shall talk later, I trust, Miss Shelby?"
"Yes and call me Violet, please." She says. "We've talked in depth that it seems proper for you to address me by your first name."
"Then you must return the favor and call me Sarjant."
Her father frowned. "Your name is Sarjant? I thought your were a sergeant in the army."
"No, I wasn't a sergeant in the war, but I did make captain." He walks out of the room. "I'm going to take a guess that you were in the army in the last war as well."
"Yes." her father's eyes narrow. "You're missing a shoe."
On cue, Elizabeth arrives with his shoe. "Ah, yes. Thank you." Elizabeth blushes and scurries out of the room. He turns to her father. "Yes, the little one was chewing on it." the men walked outside.
Her mother shook her head. "Something tells me they're going to get along just fine."
For some reason, those words caused Violet to start crying. Her mother assumed that it was due to hormones, but she knew the truth. The lie was better than the reality. And the reality was that for a few brief minutes, she'd felt happy and she hated herself for feeling that way. She didn't have the right to be happy after destroying the life of the man she loved. She didn't deserve to ever be happy again and she resolved to lock herself away from any emotions. She didn't want to know or share the feelings she had for Angier for anyone other than his daughter. She wanted to remain dead inside and today; she had betrayed that resolution.
Idcam: Yes, he did. Eitan's obsession came in handy this once. (I had to do extensive research about the birthing process.) Well, Eitan may have some competition…as this chapter teases. But then, Eitan was never quite in the running…was he? (Evil grin.)
