Black, The Dark of Ages Past

Maǧážu

October
1828

Alexandre,

Your mother and I are glad you are doing well. We hope that you have been focused on your studies; you have a bright mind and it would be a shame to see it wasted on trivial matters. I understand that your mother wishes for you to marry soon, but it is my belief that first you must start your career as a lawyer first. With that being said, I am puzzled by the contents of your last letter. To answer your question, I am indeed familiar with the Chéniers; unfortunately, the entire family died. I was the lawyer of Mathieu Chénier, the fur trader. Why do you ask about them? Please keep in mind that even though they are deceased, I am bound by confidentiality and honor, so I may not be able to provide the information you seek.
They were a good family; the father and son had many differences, but when it came down to it, they put their families first. Le Baron Chénier and I knew each other well; Pierre had been a friend of mine at university which is how I came to be employed by his parents. He had a young daughter that I only saw on one occasion. She looked more like him than her mother, but was a charming little girl that exuded confidence. When she entered the room, it was as if everyone stopped what they were doing, just to look at her. It's a shame that she is no longer with us. His wife, Amelina, was a loving mother, but strict. I remember quite vividly how she scolded the daughter for interrupting our meeting. 
Something that had always seemed to be a problem for the family was the mother, Thérése Chénier. She wasn't French; she was an indigenous woman from some tribe in America. From what I recall, her tribe resided in what is now part of the United States but considered "Unorganized Territory" meaning the tribes hold the power. Mathieu was trading with one of these tribes and met Thérése, falling in love with her. Of course, she had a different name then, but I never knew it. She was a quiet woman, but had a powerful presence. I believe her silence was of a more reflective nature and not so much as docile or incapable of speaking French; she actually spoke it very well. They lived in Quebec for quite some time before returning to France and died of old age.
Keep with your studies and come visit home soon. As you know, Clarisse is to be married come December and you are expected to be at the wedding. Alphonsine and Odette look forward to seeing you as they miss their older brother. I expect an answer within the week.

I remain your caring father

His father's letters were always to the point, which Enjolras greatly appreciated. As he sat at his desk and read it over, he mulled over in his head what he wanted to reply with. He knew very well that he was going to mention Ismérie and her plight as well as the question as to who her fiance is or was. He found it a bit odd that his father didn't seem to mention anything about their daughter other than his memories of her as a child. He made it seem like that she was dead as well. He opened the drawer and placed the letter inside, closing it with a sigh. The reply would be written later; today, he had something he actually wished to do.

.................

Enjolras knocked on the door of the Lefevre house, knowing she would be there. He had taken care of his appearance today; his cravat was on properly and his hair was combed but still curly. In his free hand was a bouquet of begonias and crocuses, flowers that were in season. Most may have brought roses, but Enjolras thought they were too common and overly romantic. Mirielle opened the door and curtsied, "Monsieur Enjolras, it's a pleasure."

"Is she ready to leave?"

She tried to keep from frowning, "Yes, but Mademoiselle Lefevre is concerned about inappropriate behavior."

"Perhaps I may speak with Monsieur Lefevre in private then."

Mirielle gave a nod and curtsied, "I'll take you to the sitting room. You can wait in there."