Shadowed-Death by Design

Chapter Twelve - Black Satin?

Remy Sebastian startled Lucy and she stifled a scream. He apologized. “I did not intend to frighten you. Are you alright?” Lucy nodded and surveyed the scene, concluding that he had been lurking in the shadows of a nearby building, waiting for the cabby to whisk Lord Pembroke away to the airport. “I gave you my phone number in case you are in need of legal help here in Paris. I realize that Lord Pembroke had to fly all the way from London. How inconvenient! And what was that about his godson?”  

“You are presumptuous! You do not even know me! Good day, Monsieur Sebastian.” Lucy turned and walked away, leaving the uncomfortable deposition in Paris behind her and going home to the flat. Soon after, Lucy answered the front door to an exact replica of herself in the company of two ladies, one in her mid-sixties, and the other in her forties. The trio helped a flabbergasted Lucy into Marie’s arm chair. The oldest woman spoke with an unusually thick, but charming, French accent. “Lucy, I am Cece Matthieu, simply 'Cece,' out of respect for my belated mother, Cecelia, who passed away many years ago. May I introduce my daughter Laure Charbonneau and her daughter Aimee? We are pleased to finally meet you. We were sorry to hear of Grandfather Edouard’s passing. I can see that we have caught you by surprise! Franc and Marie have not yet told you about Aimee, have they?”  

As Lucy shook her head no, the Lafites approached from the kitchen and greeted their guests. Lucy sat frozen, still staring at the youngest of the three, her absolute duplicate. Cece apologized. “Are we too early? I do hope we are here on the proper date. No wonder Lucy looks aghast! Franc, would you like us to come back another day, to give Lucy more time?”

“That will not be necessary, Cece. But perhaps we should just visit today and save the other for another time. How long has it been since we last saw you three, Laure?”  

“Too long! Aimee just celebrated her twentieth birthday. What about your book, Mother?” 

Cece agreed. “Yes, I could leave my manuscript for Lucy to peruse at her leisure. Dear, I started writing the book long before your Grandfather Edouard passed. But I waited until he was gone to finish it. Franc, might it help if Aimee stayed the night, as long as she does not reveal too much information during this first visit?"

The four adults left the girls to chat while they took tea in the dining room. When the heavy wooden double doors slid closed behind them, Aimee began, “Lucy, I have had time to get accustomed to the likenesses in our appearances in photos of you that Marie has sent us over the years. Isn't it a bizarre coincidence?”

“Yes, you are me with a French accent! Have people told you that you remind them of a 1960’s American movie starlet? Classic film buffs seem to think I do, especially when I go to the south of France.”

“No, I do not get that reaction where we live in Rouen, to the north." Aimee lowered her voice and Lucy leaned forward to hear, “It is a small world, and about to get much smaller for you, Lucy, when you look at Cece’s book. Read to me each generation on the family tree listed here in the front of Cece's book.”  

“Whoa! Is that my Grandpa Edward’s name beside your Great Grandmother Cecelia’s name? Aimee, please tell me there is another ‘Edouard’ and that it is just a peculiar coincidence! How could that be? When the world war ended, Grandpa Edward, bless his soul, married my Grandma Julia, may she rest in peace, in the United States, clear across an immense ocean and a large continent from here.”  

“Lucy, it is no coincidence. They are one and the same man. While Edouard Andrews was away on the battle fields in Italy, he was unaware that his sixteen year old French war bride, my great grandmother Cecelia, bore him a daughter. The baby survived, but the mother died in child birth. You just met his daughter, Cece. After the war, he discovered the tragedy and sadly returned alone to the United States, never to return to France. He married an American, your Grandmother Julia. The bottom line is, that you and I are both grand daughters of Edouard Andrews. I am actually his great grand daughter.