TEMPORAL AGENT by Michel Poulin - HTML preview

CHAPTER 5 – LADY JEANNE D’ORLÉANS

 

22:45 (Guadeloupe Time)

Sunday, December 20, 1846

The ‘Sweet Dreams’ plantation

Southeast tip of the island of Grande-Terre

The Guadeloupe

Feeling the preoccupation in Pierre as they were about to go to sleep after making love together, Nancy tenderly caressed his cheek in the darkness of their bedroom.

‘’Something is wrong, Pierre?’’

Pierre hesitated for a long moment before answering.

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‘’I don’t know, Jeanne. You still have no sign that you could be pregnant?’’ It was Nancy’s turn to be silent for a moment. Her anticipated joy at being allowed by the Time Patrol to give him a child had gradually turned to confusion, then to uncertainty when more than five months of marriage laced with near daily bouts of sex gave no apparent results. Riddled with worry and remorse, Nancy had used her last training period at the main base of the Time Patrol to pass a complete medical examination. That examination had shown that she was still fertile and fully able to have children. She then had discreetly collected sperm samples from Pierre to have them analyzed. She had cried when the results of those analysis had shown that Pierre d’Orléans was sterile at the age of 36. His spermatozoid count was too low, possibly the result of a past disease he had suffered from while in New Orleans.

‘’No, nothing! Pierre, did you ever make love to one of your black ex-slaves? Don’t be afraid to answer me truthfully: it won’t bother me.’’

‘’Why would you want to know that, Jeanne?’’ asked Pierre, surprised.

‘’Well, if you ever made a baby with a slave girl, this could help point where our problem lay in getting a child, Pierre.’’

Pierre looked at her tenderly, moved by her comprehension. That question in fact had just awakened a painful doubt in his mind.

‘’Yes, I did bed a few of my slave girls in the last few years. None of them became pregnant from me, as far as I know, and they knew that I would have recognized any child I would have conceived with them.’’

‘’And the girls of the Brissac family always proved to be fertile.’’ added Nancy, a lump in her throat. ‘’Pierre, I am afraid that we won’t be able to have a child together.’’ That brought tears to Pierre’s eyes, who then hugged Nancy tight in his arms.

‘’If that’s the case, then it is probably not because of you, Jeanne. God knows that you honored my bed with assiduity and enthusiasm.’’

‘’What will we do then, Pierre?’’

‘’The only thing we can do now, apart from continuing to try: pray God.’’ Pierre concluded that declaration with a tender kiss on Nancy’s lips, who kissed him back with profound love.

15:11 (Guadeloupe Time)

Wednesday, February 10, 1847

The ‘Sweet Dreams’ plantation, the Guadeloupe

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Doctor Lebaron had a downcast expression on his face when he came out of the bedroom where he had just examined Pierre d’Orléans. He found the young and beautiful wife of Pierre in the living room, where Father Marchand was doing his best to reassure her. The couple was well known in Saint-François for their deep, mutual love, on top of their generosity and their kindness towards their black employees. Jeanne d’Orléans got up from her chair the moment Lebaron appeared in the living room, speaking to him in an anxious tone.

‘’What is your diagnostic, Doctor? Pierre will recover, right?’’

‘’Lady Jeanne, I am afraid that the news are bad. Your husband has contracted a type of tropical fever which cannot be treated and is too often fatal. I unfortunately can’t do anything to cure him. I am sorry.’’

Jeanne’s eyes filled at once with tears and she had to sit back down, her shoulders raked by sobs.

‘’My god, no!’’

‘’Be strong, my child.’’ said softly Father Marchand while holding her hands. ‘’God will watch over his soul.’’

Lebaron stayed silent for a while, leaving some time for Jeanne to go over her grief before speaking again.

‘’Lady Jeanne, your husband realizes that he doesn’t have long to live and asked for a notary, in order to update his will.’’

‘’I…I can send our foreman to Saint-François, to go get Mister Tellier there. Could I see Pierre in the meantime?’’

‘’Yes, but don’t make him talk too much: he is burning with fever and is weak.’’

‘’I understand. I will advise our foreman right away, so that he can leave for town, then I will go watch over Pierre. You are of course welcome to stay here as long as needed, Doctor.’’

Jeanne then got up slowly and left the house for a few minutes, returning to the lounge afterwards.

‘’Fernand is on his way with our cart to go get Monsieur Tellier. I will now go see Pierre. If you need anything in the meantime, just ask our maid, Marthe.’’ Lebaron watched the tall and athletic teenager go into Pierre’s bedroom before looking at the priest sitting with him in the lounge.

‘’What a tragedy! This couple was the image of love and happiness.’’

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‘’Indeed! I married Jeanne to Pierre d’Orléans and I must say that it was the best thing that happened to Sire Pierre. If all my flock could have a conjugal life like that of this couple, my parish would be a happy one indeed. I am afraid that the poor Jeanne could end up being broken by her oncoming loss.’’

The notary, George Tellier, arrived at the plantation two hours later and immediately went to see Pierre in his room, his paper, pen and seals with him and with Father Marchand acting as a witness. The notary and the priest stayed in Pierre’s bedroom for what felt like an eternity to Jeanne, who tried to forget her distress by going to prepare supper for her three visitors. Supper was a somber affair indeed, with Jeanne leaving the table early in order to go help her husband eat a soup in bed. Lebaron used that opportunity to ask a question in a low voice to Tellier as they kept eating.

‘’I suppose that Pierre d’Orléans is leaving everything to his wife?’’

‘’Normally, this would be covered by professional confidentiality, but I must say that the last will of Sir Pierre is most simple, especially since he has no children, or business associates for his plantation. He also had no known debts and was in fact quite wealthy, despite living rather modestly in comparison to his revenues. The money that he kept in a locked chest in the strong room of the bank in Saint-François will go to his wife, along with the plantation. Does he really have no possibility of recovering, Doctor?’’

‘’I strongly doubt so, Mister Tellier. I too often had to deal with this type of fever and it nearly always has proven to be fatal. Fortunately, it is not contagious and is transmitted only through the sting of a certain type of insect.’’

‘’So, Lady Jeanne will soon find herself alone in charge of this plantation. I wonder if she will want to stay or to sell the property. The plantation, with its sugar refinery and its rum distillery, is worth quite a sum, on top of being very profitable. Prospective buyers won’t be lacking if Lady Jeanne ever decides to sell it.’’ Father Marchand then joined the conversation, speaking in a low, conspiratorial tone.

‘’There are rumors that Sir Pierre found a few months ago an old pirate treasure with the help of his young wife.’’

That made Lebaron raise an eyebrow.

‘’Oh? Where did you hear that rumor, Father?’’

‘’Let’s say that I have my sources in town.’’ replied the priest, smiling. ‘’Pierre d’Orléans and his wife were once seen at the bank in Saint-François, depositing a

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collection of old, rusty chests. They then went the same day to sell to an antiquary an old rusted sword that Lady Jeanne had found in a submerged cave during one of her frequent swims. You must say that this is enough to make people speculate.’’

‘’There are also stories that say that Lady Jeanne swims nearly naked when she goes to fish on the coast.’’ insinuated Tellier with a knowing smile, making Father Marchand sign himself.

‘’Monsieur Tellier, to eye the wife of another man is a sin. You should go confess yourself.’’

‘’I am only repeating what many are already saying, Father. You must admit that this young girl has made people talk a lot since her arrival nearly a year ago, starting with the torture scars on her torso.’’

‘’She is certainly an uncommon girl.’’ recognized the priest. ‘’She however has a heart of gold and is most generous, something that I can only approve of.’’

The trio continued to exchange stories and news during the rest of the meal, until Jeanne returned to the lounge. After further comforting Jeanne, Father Marchand left for Saint-François with Tellier, using the cart driven by the plantation’s foreman. Doctor Lebaron, on his part, made another examination of Pierre d’Orléans before going to bed in the guests’ bedroom, leaving Jeanne alone with her husband.

As Lebaron had expected, Pierre d’Orléans’ condition deteriorated gradually, to the point of making Father Marchand return two days later to be ready to give him the last rites. Just before noon on Friday, February 12 of 1847, Pierre d’Orléans passed away in the arms of a Jeanne nearly mad with grief.

09:38 (Guadeloupe Time)

Tuesday, May 11, 1847

The ‘Sweet Dreams’ plantation

The Guadeloupe

Alerted by one of her black workers, Nancy was standing on the porch of the residence when a small carriage stopped in front of her and let out a thin man dressed in a distinguished suit. The man, who held a leather briefcase in his left hand, saluted her with his top hat.

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‘’Lady Jeanne d’Orléans? My name is Victor Schoelcher, deputy for the Guadeloupe at the National Assembly. I was told that your plantation is for sale.’’

‘’You were told right, Mister Schoelcher.’’ said Nancy while climbing down the steps of the porch to go greet her visitor. ‘’I heard good things about your work at the National Assembly. You have already done a lot for the cause of the abolition of slavery in the colonies.’’

‘’And I am hoping soon to convince the National Assembly in Paris to pass an act abolishing for good this abomination, Lady Jeanne.’’

Nancy smiled to him, favorably impressed by the man, and showed him the main entrance of the residence.

‘’You would then make me quite happy, Mister Schoelcher. I was starting to despair of finding a good, honest man worthy of buying my plantation. But let’s go inside, so you can refresh yourself.’’

‘’Thank you, Lady Jeanne.’’

Schoelcher followed Nancy inside, taking place in the sofa offered by her in the lounge. Nancy then served him a cup of fruity white wine before sitting beside him.

‘’So, you are interested in buying this plantation, Mister Schoelcher?’’

‘’Along with its sugar refinery and its rum distillery, if they are also for sale.’’

‘’They effectively are, monsieur.’’

‘’Could I ask you first the reasons why you want to sell, Lady Jeanne? Your property seems to have resisted very well to last month’s earthquake, contrary to many other plantations.’’

‘’Please, call me simply Jeanne, Mister Schoelcher. My reasons for selling are simple. With the death of my husband last February, I do not wish to live in the Guadeloupe anymore and want to go rebuild my life in Paris. I however want to find a buyer who will treat well my workers before leaving the Guadeloupe. As for the good state of my plantation, I owe it to the fact that I spent money to maintain it adequately, while too many of my neighbors look only for short term profits, exploiting their workers and using their installations to full capacity while skimping on maintenance.’’

‘’I was able to see that by myself while visiting other plantations, Jeanne. Would it be possible to visit in detail your plantation before speaking business further?’’

‘’But of course, Mister Schoelcher! Once you are finished with your cup, I will give you the grand tour. We will then start by the rum distillery.’’

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12:09 (Guadeloupe Time)

The ‘Sweet Dreams’ plantation

Victor Schoelcher used his handkerchief to wipe out the sweat from his forehead as he sat back with a sigh of relief in the lounge’s sofa. The Sun was blazing hard on the Guadeloupe today and he had just walked for over two hours. In contrast, Jeanne seemed to be still fresh and full of energy, while her suntanned skin only added to the impression of health radiating from her.

‘’I must say that you seem to be administering a model plantation, Jeanne. Your workers also seemed to be both happy and motivated. You certainly would be in your right to ask the maximum possible from your property.’’

The teenager, who had deeply impressed Schoelcher with her maturity and with her technical knowledge during the tour of the plantation, smiled to him while sitting at the other end of the sofa.

‘’Mister Schoelcher, while I could be as hard about business as any man, I only want to get an honest price for my plantation. My husband left me a small fortune and luxury doesn’t attract me. In truth, once installed in Paris, I intend to create a charitable society, using the money I got from my husband to help the downtrodden, the poor and the abused.’’

‘’A most commendable goal, Jeanne. As a National Assembly deputy, I would certainly be happy to help you in that project. So, how much would you be asking for your property, including its stocks of rum and refined sugar?’’ Nancy, who had studied with care the estate and commodities markets of the time, answered him at once.

‘’One hundred thousand francs4 for the installations, the land and the stocks of rum and sugar. My workers are free men, so are not for sale. You will have to hire them on wages.’’

Schoelcher calculated furiously in his head the value of what he had seen. Jeanne’s offer seemed more than fair to him. As for the funds needed to buy and operate the plantation, he had plenty of liquidities available to him right now.

 

4 The French franc of the time was worth about twenty American cents (1800s), while an English pound sterling was worth 25 francs. One French Napoleon gold coin was worth twenty francs.

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‘’Your price is a very honest one, Jeanne. You have a deal. I will come back tomorrow with a notary, in order to conclude the deal and to organize the payment.’’

‘’Excellent! You will be staying for lunch, I hope?’’

‘’With pleasure, Jeanne!’’

Victor Schoelcher then spent an agreeable hour eating and conversing with Jeanne, discussing mostly about the operations of the plantation and the current market for rum and sugar. That conversation convinced the deputy that he was dealing with an extremely intelligent girl who was well educated and had an uncommon strength of character. Frankly impressed by Jeanne, Schoelcher left the plantation at the end of the afternoon, going back to Saint-François in his carriage with a promise to come back the next day.

Schoelcher effectively came back next morning, accompanied by notary Tellier and carrying a bank draft for 100,000 francs. Once the selling act was signed, Jeanne presented him to her foreman and to her black workers and their families, watching discreetly his reactions at the contact of the ex-slaves. Schoelcher however proved to be as tolerant and kind as his reputation said, to her relief. On their part, the black workers, being understandably nervous at losing such a good employer as Jeanne, relaxed noticeably once they met their new boss. The sad truth was that too many French settlers in the Guadeloupe were abusive, even brutal, towards their black workers. The workers genuinely loved Jeanne, while she was sad to have to leave them. The plantation-wide party that she organized that night to raise the morale of her workers quickly turned into a tearful reunion. Later, before going to sleep that night, Nancy went to visit Pierre d’Orléans’ grave in the small cemetery of the plantation. Her tears then were genuine and plentiful.

The day Nancy left the plantation, on Friday, May 28, was another occasion for tearful hugs and kisses between Nancy and her workers. She finally had to climb on the cart driven by her foreman, with Victor Schoelcher bidding her goodbye with Gérard Bussière, the man chosen by him to manage the plantation. Nancy’s throat was tight as she waved at the crowd of ex-slaves one last time.

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Once in the port of Saint-François, Nancy went to the local bank to retrieve there the two solid, locked chests which contained the savings accumulated by Pierre d’Orléans as well as the pirate treasure that had sparked so many rumors in the last months. The fortune in gold and gems of that treasure, which had a monetary value at the time of over four million francs, really came from a pirate wreck dating from the 16th Century. However, that treasure had been retrieved from the bottom of the Caribbean Sea by the Time Patrol, to be relocated discreetly in a coastal grotto, where Jeanne had ‘found’ it and signaled it to Pierre. Such treasures recuperated from hundreds of old ship wrecks around the World were often used by the Time Patrol to fund the operations of its field agents in the past. In fact, more gold and jewels retrieved from the sea were already set aside to further fatten the startup funds to be used by Jeanne d’Orléans once in Paris to create her future d’Orléans Social Foundation, the ultimate goal of Nancy’s mission.

The night of May 28, Jeanne d’Orléans officially climbed aboard the three-mast ship CAMARGUE with her luggage and her heavy chests. Early next morning, the CAMARGUE left its quay with the high tide and slowly went out of the small port of Saint-François, heading for the port of Le Havre and France.

13:52 (Paris Time)

Thursday, July 1, 1847

Port of Le Havre, France

Nancy, like the 46 other passengers of the CAMARGUE, was up on the weather deck of the ship, leaning against the siding and observing the port of Le Havre during the docking maneuvers. Dozens of other cargo ships, many with mixed sail and steam propulsion, were anchored in the port’s basin or were docked, loading or unloading cargo and passengers. The quays were backed by a long façade of warehouses and five-story brick or stone residential buildings, while a small railway station that had been recently built was situated at the limit of the port area. The port of Le Havre was itself situated in the estuary of the Seine River, which flowed down from Paris and further on.

A ramp was finally put in place between the quay and the top deck of the CAMARGUE but, before any of the passengers could go down to firm ground, a group of

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French customs officers and policemen climbed aboard to inspect the passengers and the ship’s cargo. Nancy waited patiently her turn to be inspected with her luggage, smiling politely to the custom officer who finally came to her to ask for her papers. The official stiffened and looked at her with new deference when he read her name in her passport.

‘’Lady Jeanne d’Orléans? You are from the royal family, miss?’’

‘’My husband was a cousin of King Louis Philippe, monsieur. Unfortunately, he died recently from a fever in the Guadeloupe.’’

The custom officer then bowed low to her while giving her back her passport.

‘’My sincere condolences, Lady Jeanne. I am sorry to have importuned you like this. You may disembark with your luggage.’’

‘’Thank you, my good man.’’

Enlisting the help of four solid sailors to carry her luggage and chests down to the quay, Nancy waved at one of the carts and carriages waiting nearby for customers. Once her things were loaded up on the cart that came forward, Nancy gave a generous tip to the four sailors before climbing in the cart and sitting besides the driver, smiling to him.

‘’To the train station, please.’’

‘’Right away, miss.’’ replied politely the graying man before urging his horse forward. The trip to the railway station took less than ten minutes but it gave a chance to Nancy to get a good estimate of the traffic passing through Le Havre. It also gave her a chance to take some films through the micro-camera hidden in her hat as she watched the activity around her. She could not help smile on seeing the train that was waiting at the station. Both the engine and its wagons were of primitive manufacture, the French railroad industry being still in its infancy. The engine could not have rated more than a few dozen horsepower and the passenger wagons were open to the winds and to the ample black smoke from the coal-fired engine. The cart stopped temporarily in front of the railway station’s office to allow Nancy to go buy a ticket for Paris and to requisition the help of two of the station’s baggage handlers. A bit more than an hour later, Nancy’s train left the station in a thick cloud of black smoke and steam, its steel wheels screeching under the effort.

For a modern traveler, the 228 kilometer trip would have been slow and uncomfortable, with the passengers often having to breathe the black smoke from the engine while sitting on hard wooden benches. For Nancy, that was a precious

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opportunity to document a trip in the dawn of rail transport. She had however lived through much worse and endured with patience the trip, conversing with a distinguished English couple who had arrived from London and was going like her to Paris. Too happy to be able to pass time with someone who could speak English, the couple even invited Nancy to share the content of their picnic basket with them.

The train finally arrived in Paris as the night was falling. On a common accord, Nancy and the English couple rented the services of a carriage to go to a good hotel that had been recommended to the couple by a relative in England. Nancy sighed with relief when she was finally able to soak in a hot bath in her room of the Westminster Hotel, her precious chests secure in the strong room of the hotel.

09:27 (Paris Time)

Monday, July 5, 1847

Hôtel de Brinvilliers, 12 Rue Charles-V

Le Marais district, Paris

France

The man waiting in front of the carriage

entrance of the large town house bowed politely

to Nancy when she showed up, saluting her with

his top hat. While the man wore a good quality

suit, Nancy wore a fine gown and an expensive

set of jewels.

‘’Lady Jeanne d’Orléans, I presume?’’

‘’Correct, mister! I came here Saturday and told your keeper that I was interested in buying this town house. Would it be possible to visit the property, Mister…?’’

‘’Jean Barrot, real estate agent with the Bank of France, which is the present owner of this residence.’’

Nancy gave Barrot a surprised look then.

‘’This town house was repossessed by your bank, Mister Barrot?’’

‘’Yes, Lady Jeanne. Unfortunately, the economy is not going well these days and the last occupant of this residence went bankrupt a few months ago. The Bank of

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France then repossessed the building as partial payment of that occupant’s debts, but prospective buyers have been quite rare since then.’’

Nancy nodded her head in comprehension. In fact, she knew in detail the history of this residence, called in French a ‘hôtel particulier’, and had already chosen it as her future residence in Paris. The last three days spent roaming Paris and visiting other residences on sale had only been to support her cover story.

‘’I see! Please show the way.’’

Barrot knocked on the pedestrian door inserted in the right-hand door of the large carriage gate, making the keeper of the property open it after a few seconds. The keeper was a big, solid man with a knife in his belt and his main task was probably to prevent squatters from occupying the residence. After a few words with Barrot, the keeper stepped aside and let him and Nancy enter, closing back and locking the door behind them.

Walking twelve paces down the tunnel formed through the town house’s façade by the carriage entrance, Nancy emerged into a large, paved inner courtyard bordered on both sides by wings of the residence. The right side wing had three large garage doors for carriages and horses at ground level, while the left side wing was lined by many windows and three entrance doors. The town house proper thus formed a ‘U’ surrounding the courtyard of three sides, with the back of the courtyard occupied by a garden and closed off by a high stone wall marking the limit of the property, which was sandwiched between other residences and buildings. The stone building had two floors, plus an attic level with dormer windows. The upper floor clearly had a higher than normal ceiling, judging from the height of the windows, and probably lodged the master bedrooms and the various reception rooms. It was also immediately apparent to Nancy that the building and its courtyard had been neglected for decades and would need some serious renovation work. Jean Barrot noticed her expression as she was detailing the state of the town house and gave her a reassuring smile.

‘’Don’t worry, Lady Jeanne: this residence is still very solid.’’

‘’Maybe, but it will need at the least a serious cleanup, plus new coats of paint to the door and window frames. I hope that the roof doesn’t leak.’’

‘’You will be able to judge by yourself, Lady Jeanne. This way, please.’’

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Entering the building with Barrot via a door of the façade section opening on the courtyard, Nancy found herself in a large vestibule occupied by a grand, curved marble staircase with forged iron railings leading to the upper floor. She also saw near the foot of the staircase a door that had to lead to the basement, judging by the angle of the passage visible past the open door. The main staircase would have been magnificent if not for the fact that it was covered with dust and dirt and with rust on the railing, while plaster was falling off the walls and ceiling. Nancy looked at all that with true sadness.

‘’What a waste! To neglect like this a building with so much history in it.’’

‘’You know the history of the Hôtel de Brinvilliers, miss?’’

‘’Of course, my dear Mister Barrot! Who doesn’t know the story of the infamous, sinister Marquess of Brinvilliers, to whom this residence belonged. She was executed in 1676 for having poisoned members of her family as well as many other nobles and big bourgeois. The building does date from the early 17th Century, right?’’

‘’Correct! It was completed in 1630, when many big nobles started residing in the district of Le Marais. Let’s start the visit with the ground floor.’’ Passing through a door located near the door to the basement, Barrot led Nancy into a large kitchen that was nearly empty, save for a large fireplace, an iron stove and a baking oven. Like the vestibule, the room was full of dust and spider webs and looked utterly abandoned. Barrot took a few steps while pointing features around him as he spoke.

‘’This is the kitchen. The fireplace, oven and stove, while old, are still functional. The rest of the west wing on this level contains a pantry, a laundry room, six guest rooms or suites and a bathroom.’’

Nancy, guided by Barrot, took a good ten minutes to visit and inspect carefully the ground floor of the west wing. While dirty and dusty, the wing seemed to be structurally sound, except for the decaying wall plaster. The rooms were however utterly empty of furniture; it having probably been sold to help pay back part of the debt owed by the previous owner. Then going back out in the courtyard, they crossed the fifteen meter-wide paved expanse, which widened to twenty meters at the level of its back half, and entered the eastern wing. Nancy found in the stables a collection of hay balls, some old buckets and a pile of horse blankets. The two adjacent garage stalls, meant for carriages, were however completely empty. Using the communicating doors of the stalls, Barrot led her next to the south-east section of the façade facing the Charles-V street.

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She saw there three rooms of various sizes, one of them measuring a good eight by six meters and containing a large fireplace and an iron stove. Like the other rooms she had already visited, the place was utterly devoid of furniture. Barrot made a gesture with both hands while describing the larger room.

‘’This is where the maids and servants took their breaks and ate their meals. The adjacent room giving on the street was the watchman’s room, while there is a bathroom for the domestic staff at the back. If you don’t have questions about the ground floor, we could now go visit the upper floor.’’

‘’Go ahead, Mister Barrot.’’ replied Nancy after a quick look around the three rooms in this section. They then went out by a door of the watchman’s room that gave access to the tunnel formed by the carriage entrance, crossing to the west wing side entrance and ending back in the main vestibule of the grand staircase. While climbing the marble steps of the staircase, Nancy inspected visually the walls of the staircase well, which was lit by a large window giving a view of the courtyard and by a single window giving on the street. Like in the rest of the building, the plaster was falling off the walls and would have to be completely redone.

Setting foot on the upper level of the staircase, which twisted yet twice more to go to the attic level, Nancy followed Barrot through a set of double doors giving access to the west wing upper floor. The ceiling on this level was over four meter high, adding a lot to the volume of the upper floor. Barrot then showed her a fairly large room which contained a fireplace.

‘’This was the reception lounge proper. To your left, you will see two doors. The nearest door leads to the private boudoir and the library, which themselves communicate with the two master bedrooms. The other door gives on a staircase that goes down directly to the kitchen.’’

‘’Let me look first at the boudoir, library and master bedrooms of the façade section before visiting the west wing, Mister Barrot.’’ said Nancy after looking around the lounge.

‘’As you wish, Lady Jeanne.’’

Going through the nearest door, she ended up in a relatively small room with a window that gave a view down on the Charles-V street. An old iron stove sat in one corner but there were again no furniture present. Despite its small size, Nancy liked at once the boudoir: It was strategically situated at the corner angle of the west and south wings,

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while it was isolated enough to give someone a place to work in peace. The adjacent library, which walls were still lined with old, dusty bookshelves, albeit empty, was a wide, six by five meters room, with double doors giving on the grand staircase well and a single door linking it to a large bedroom with fireplace. They then crossed into the bedroom.

‘’The master bedroom.’’ announced Barrot while sweeping one hand around. ‘’Behind that corner, you will find two large closets, while this door near the corner leads into the master bathroom.’’

‘’Not bad at all!’’ said Nancy with appreciation as she scanned the big, L-shaped bedroom, which had to cover about 35 square meters and was lit by two windows. After going around the corner to examine the two storage closets, she went into the master bathroom, where she found a large tile-covered bathtub and a marble counter with a sink. There was also a toilet chair, with a bucket sitting under it, but no actual plumbing except for lead water drainage pipes for the bathtub and the sink. Barrot shrugged his shoulders on seeing the face she made at the primitive sanitary facilities.

‘’Please understand that this residence was built in the 17th Century, when toilets were limited to simple chamber pots. However, the more recent owners installed a few toilet pits which go down to the sewers. You still have to bring up water with buckets, though.’’

‘’I see!’’ said simply Nancy, who was making a mental note about the need to completely renovate the sanitary and heating installations, in order to bring some modern comforts to the residence. Fortunately, she knew about an English sanitary engineer who had started to market sanitary appliances, including flush toilets, in this time period. She followed Barrot through the second door of the master bathroom, ending in the guest bedroom. While smaller in surface than the master bedroom, that room was still big, with its own fireplace and wide storage closets. From there, they went into the long hallway connecting the west and east wings and running along the aft façade of the south wing.

‘’If you wish, Lady Jeanne, we could have a quick look at the two guest lounges in the east wing before visiting in detail the west wing.’’

‘’Please go ahead, Mister Barrot.’’

Barrot, taking a few steps to a double door leading into the east wing, then showed her a side door.

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‘’This is the access door to the servants’ staircase, which connects the servant’s lounge on the ground floor with the servants’ rooms in the attic. It thus allows them to go around and do their chores without infringing on the guests’ and masters’ privacy.’’ Nancy nodded while hiding her resentment at this sign of how lowly the domestic staff had been treated by its masters through the centuries. Social and sexual equality as known in the later 20th Century still were mostly empty words in this time period, despite the rapid technological advances being done in the mid 19th Century, which knew steam power and was on the verge of developing the widespread use of electricity. Still following Barrot, she quickly visited two mid-sized lounges, each with a fireplace, before returning in the communications hallway and going back to the reception lounge in the west wing. From there, they stepped into a ten meter-wide room well lit by tall windows and sporting a large fireplace. The floor was made of polished wood, which was however in bad need of maintenance.

‘’The main dining room.’’ announced Barrot. ‘’It is big enough to comfortably seat at least eighteen persons for dinner. The hidden staircase to our left leads down to the ground floor and to the kitchen level, while stairs also lead up to the servants’ quarters. Next door, we have the ballroom, the largest room of the residence.’’ The ballroom indeed proved to be huge, measuring about eleven by ten meters and being well illuminated by a total of five tall windows, while a big fireplace was meant to heat the wide volume during Winter. Nancy nodded her head slowly, suitably impressed by the ballroom.

‘’I do like playing music and singing. This will be perfect to entertain my future guests.’’

‘’I am happy to see that you like all this, Lady Jeanne. At the back of the ballroom, we have another guest suite, a large one with a private bathroom. We could then visit the attic level, even though it contains only the servants’ quarters.’’

‘’I would still want to visit that level, Mister Barrot. The welfare of my future domestic staff is important to me.’’

‘’As you wish, Lady Jeanne.’’

Using a hidden staircase at the back of the ballroom, they climbed wooden stairs to the attic level, which proved a lot more cramped than the upper floor and in which finishing touches had visibly been neglected, with many roof structures left uncovered. The 22 servants’ bedrooms she saw on that level, while each illuminated by a dormer

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window, were cramped, nearly claustrophobic. Nancy firmly resolved then to do something about this, and soon. As Barrot announced to her that the visit was completed, she smiled to him while shaking her index.

‘’You forgot the basement, Mister Barrot.’’

‘’Uh, you will find only dust and humidity there, Lady Jeanne.’’

‘’Maybe, but it will also allow me to inspect the state of the residence’s foundations.’’

The young real estate agent made a face at that.

‘’True! I will however have first to go borrow an oil lamp from the watchman before we go down there.’’

Going down to the ground floor with Nancy, he went to see briefly the watchman, returning with a lit oil lamp and smiling to her.

‘’We will use the stairs of the vestibule, near the kitchen.’’

That stone staircase proved to be both dark and sinister, smelling of molds. The light from the oil lamp soon revealed to Nancy a long cave extending in two directions in the shape of an ‘L’. Stone pillars were lined up at about every four meters as far as she could see, which wasn’t much really. Piled around the stone pillars was an eclectic assortment of old rotting furniture, crates and wooden chests, the lot covered by a thick coat of dust, rat droppings and spiders’ webs. The air was also fetid, making Barrot grimace.

‘’As you can see, Lady Jeanne, this is not the most attractive part of this residence.’’

‘’Oh, I was not expecting a reception lounge, Mister Barrot.’’ said Nancy in an amused tone before going to the nearest stone wall to inspect it. Closely followed by Barrot and his oil lamp, she methodically inspected the stone walls and pillars of the foundations, which ran for about 25 meters under the south façade and for 35 meters under the west wing. The west wing foundations however proved much wider than the ones of the south wing, with double rows of stone pillars compared to a single row under the south wing. The total volume of space was actually very significant and, while the place lacked proper ventilation at this time, Nancy could see some useful future use for this basement level.

‘’Well, the foundations seem to be in a very good state, considering their age, Mister Barrot. Let’s go back to the ground level.’’

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Jean Barrot let out a sigh of relief once they were back in the ground level vestibule and quickly slapped away the dust and spiders’ webs that had fallen on his suit. He then gave Nancy a typical salesman’s smile.

‘’So, Lady Jeanne, are you interested by this property?’’

‘’Definitely! It will be perfect for my needs…if the price is right.’’

‘’Excellent! The published sales price is 180,000 francs for both the building and the lot, a truly good deal.’’

Nancy at once threw him a skeptical look.

‘’A good deal, 180,000 francs? That is three times what this residence cost when brand new, if I can go by the price of 58,000 livres paid by Robert de Frémont in 1672. Even when taking into account the inflation since the 17th Century, which basically doubled the price, your offer is about 50% too high, and this without even taking into account the age of the building and the need for extensive renovations.’’ Jean Barrot looked at her with surprise, taken off balance by her in-depth knowledge about this property. He however still attempted to defend his position.

‘’But, the prices of property lots in Paris has risen a lot since, Lady Jeanne. I however concede that the property is in need of some renovations. I thus am ready to lower my price to 160,000 francs.’’

‘’I offer 120,000 francs, and I am being generous.’’

‘’Uh, 140,000 francs. I really can’t get lower than that.’’

Nancy made of show of thinking about his offer for a moment before smiling to him and presenting her right hand for a shake. In reality, she would have paid about any price to get this specific property, which would become crucial to her future projects.

‘’Deal!’’

‘’You won’t regret your decision, Lady Jeanne. We now only have to discuss the financing of this sale.’’

‘’What financing, Mister Barrot? I am ready to pay cash for this property. Prepare the sales act for tomorrow and I will go to your bank then, to both pay for this property and to make an important deposit in gold and gems.’’

‘’We will be ready for you, Lady Jeanne. Our watchman will stay at his post until you are able to take effective possession of the property, and this to prevent squatters from occupying your new house. The times are hard these days and there is unfortunately a lot of vagrants in Paris right now.’’

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Barrot took a minute to speak with the watchman, giving him additional instructions before leaving the town house and letting Nancy alone in front of the carriage entrance. She looked with pride at the façade of her new residence, happy with her acquisition. Her mind was already on the various renovation and improvement works that she wanted to make in order to restore the town house to its past splendor. Her heart particularly warmed up at the thought of all the good that her future charitable foundation was going to do from this building in the near future.

‘’Great things will be done here indeed.’’ she whispered to herself.

The next morning, a bit after the opening of the main branch and head office of the Bank of France, the two gendarmes on guard at the entrance of the bank stiffened instinctively when four big men, near giants, climbed down from a chariot that had just stopped in front of the bank. A tall and pretty teenage girl wearing a high quality city gown and who had just arrived in a small carriage then joined the four men as they took out two apparently heavy chests from the back of their chariots. The driver of the chariot, a young man of medium size, stayed with his vehicle as the teenager and the four mountains of muscles carrying the two chests climbed the stairs to the entrance of the bank. One of the gendarmes then interposed himself in front of the teenage girl, who was holding a fair-sized wooden box in her hands. He however kept his tone polite.

‘’Excuse me, mademoiselle, but I must ensure that you and your four helpers are not armed. Could I see the content of your box and of your chests?’’

‘’But of course, my good man! I was in fact coming here to deposit my fortune in this bank. To see it so well guarded reassures me.’’

The girl then opened the cover of her box to let the gendarme look inside it. The latter felt a rush of blood go to his head on seeing the dozens of big polished emeralds contained in the box. He however managed not to exclaim himself and nodded his head before going to inspect the two chests. He suddenly started sweating at the sight of the gold bars filling the chests.

‘’Uh, everything is okay. You may enter the bank, miss.’’

‘’Thank you!’’

The gendarme watched the small group enter the bank with its chests before exchanging a bemused glance with his comrade.

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‘’Good God! I have never seen such a fortune at once. This girl is easily a multi-millionaire. She did well to hire those big men.’’

‘’Yeah! Did you notice the one with the long scar on one cheek?’’

‘’You bet! He could scare away the worst criminals.’’

Followed closely by Jack Crawford, Otto Skorzeni, Fernand Brunet and Ken Dows with their two chests full of gold bars, Nancy went to a service wicket that was presently free of customers and politely saluted the cashier with a nod of her head.

‘’Good morning, monsieur. I am here to make an important deposit and to pay for a property I bought from your bank yesterday. I believe that your director will want to see me.’’

‘’Uh, just a moment, miss.’’

After excusing himself, the cashier left his wicket and went to a private office located behind the service counter. He soon came back out with an overweight man wearing a large graying moustache. The latter crossed on the customers’ side of the counter to come to Nancy, bowing in front of her.

‘’Miss, I am Charles de Pointcarré, director of this bank. What could I do for you this morning?’’

‘’Let me present myself first, monsieur: Lady Jeanne d’Orléans. I came to open an account and make in it a large deposit, on top of paying for the buying of the Hôtel de Brinvilliers, which I visited with Mister Barrot yesterday. These men are escorting my gold.’’

The director gave a cautious look at the four powerful men before looking back at Nancy.

‘’In that case, please follow me with your men and your chests, Lady Jeanne.’’ The group then crossed behind the service counter and went to the director’s office, where Pointcarré offered a chair to Nancy.

‘’Please sit down, Lady Jeanne. I will go get Mister Barrot.’’

‘’Thank you, monsieur.’’

The director then left for a minute, to return and sit behind his desk.

‘’Could I see some identity papers, miss?’’

‘’Certainly, Monsieur de Pointcarré! Here is my passport as well as my marriage certificate. Unfortunately, my husband died last February from a tropical fever in the Guadeloupe and I then decided to return to France. Here is his death certificate as well.’’

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The director examined carefully the three documents presented by Nancy, to then return them to her, apparently satisfied.

‘’So, you came here to deposit your fortune in our bank, Lady Jeanne. You chose well.’’

‘’I believe so as well, monsieur. I would like first to have the value of my two chests and of my jewel box evaluated with precision. Then, I will deposit the majority of that sum in a savings account, with the rest put in a regular account. I have with me gold bars and polished emeralds.’’

‘’And could I ask you the origin of that gold and those emeralds, Lady Jeanne?’’

‘’You can, monsieur! Part of my gold comes from the sale of the plantation in the Guadeloupe that I inherited from my husband, while the rest comes from a pirates’ treasure found in a coastal cave on the boundaries of our plantation.’’ The director’s eyebrows rose in interest at the words ‘pirates’ treasure’.

‘’Hum, quite an interesting story indeed, Lady Jeanne. Let me go get someone for the evaluation.’’

Leaving again his office, the director came back with a small, thin man wearing round spectacles.

‘’If your men could follow Monsieur Lafleur with their chests, he will weigh and calculate the value of your gold, so that it could be credited to your account. As well, our associate jeweler should be here soon.’’

Nancy nodded her head and made a sign to Otto Skorzeni, who grabbed with Fernand Brunet the handles of one of the chests and picked it up to follow the accountant out of the office, accompanied by Ken Dows and Jack Crawford, who carried the second chest. The director then started filling the paperwork needed for Nancy to open a savings account and a regular account, the lot in the name of Jeanne d’Orléans. Those procedures were nearly completed when Jean Barrot showed up with the sales contract for the Hôtel de Brinvilliers. Nancy had just signed the contract when the accountant in charge of evaluating her gold bars knocked on the door of the office, passing his head inside once invited in.

‘’Monsieur de Pointcarré, the weighing of the gold of Lady Jeanne is now completed. It is worth 3,206,800 francs.’’

De Pointcarré opened his mouth, stunned by that number, then noted the sum quoted by Lafleur before smiling to Nancy.

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‘’Well, I believe that your credit will be solid indeed, Lady Jeanne. How much of this sum do you want to put in your new savings account?’’

‘’Three million francs. What will be left after paying for my new residence will go in my regular account. The value of my emeralds will also go in my regular account, once evaluated of course.’’

‘’Our expert jeweler should be here soon, Lady Jeanne. In the meantime, let’s seal this sales act, so that I could give you the keys to your new property.’’

The said jeweler showed up a few minutes after Nancy was handed the keys to the Hôtel de Brinvilliers by the director. The expert opened wide eyes at the sight of the big polished emeralds contained in Nancy’s box.

‘’Colombian emeralds, and of top quality. At first sight, I would say that you have here a the least two million francs worth of emeralds in this box.’’ Setting up a precision weight scale, a magnifying lens and measuring calipers , the jeweler took about one hour to examine with care the emeralds while Nancy patiently sipped a coffee and conversed with the director. He finally raised his nose from the last emerald he had examined and smiled to Nancy.

‘’Lady Jeanne, you have here 266 top grade Colombian emeralds. I am offering you 2,677,000 francs for the lot. Your biggest emerald was worth by itself 43,000 francs and would be worthy of a queen. Do you want to sell them all and credit them to your accounts, or would you like to keep a few in order to have some jewels made for you?’’

‘’I will credit them to my regular account, monsieur. I still have more gems and gold in my possession anyway. I will however take 50,000 francs out of that sum in cash: I will be needing to pay for extensive renovations to my new residence, plus will have to buy furniture for it.’’

The director swallowed hard on hearing the value of the emeralds: Jeanne d’Orléans had just become one of his richest customers. Making a few quick calculations, he adjusted the value of the two accounts in Jeanne’s name, then went to get 50,000 francs in gold and silver coins for her, as French paper money was still a few years away in the future. When everything was done, he got up from his chair and shook hands with Nancy.

‘’It was a true pleasure to welcome you as a customer, Lady Jeanne. Welcome to Paris!’’

‘’Thank you, Monsieur de Pointcarré.’’

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Nancy, accompanied by the director to the main entrance, then left the bank with her four escorts and her heavy bag of gold and silver. Pointcarré shook slowly his head while watching her leave.

‘’So young, yet so rich. She would make a hell of a marriage prospect. All the gigolos in Paris will be after her.’’

After her visit to the bank, Nancy then returned to the Marais District, where she roamed the streets while passing the word that she was looking for workers and maids in order to renovate and clean her new residence. With the widespread unemployment that was devastating the French economy of the time, she quickly found herself with more hands than she really needed. However, in line with the charitable vocation of her mission, she hired nearly everyone who showed up at the Hôtel de Brinvilliers in the afternoon, offering them wages which were quite inflated for this period.

The 63 men and women whom she ended hiring and who showed up on Wednesday morning were promptly split into small work groups and then dispersed around the large town house by Nancy, who also distributed tools and equipment bought the previous day. Nancy then directed and supervised them, but always showed them politeness and consideration during the three days that the renovation work went on. She used those days as well to talk individually with her workers, evaluating their competences and their character and learning to know them, while physically helping them in their work from time to time. On Saturday afternoon, after thanking and paying her workers before sending them home, Nancy kept with her six women and four men, assembling them as a group in the courtyard. She scanned in turn their faces before speaking in a friendly tone.

‘’My friends, it is obvious that I will need a domestic staff to keep such a large residence running. During the last three days, I was able to see the quality of your work and your degree of initiative, which made you stand out from the other workers. I am ready to offer you permanent positions as my employees, at the same daily salary that I gave during the renovation work, meaning three francs per day, plus food, lodging, work clothes and medical care. What do you say to that?’’

‘’Lady Jeanne,’’ said Leila Benchetrit, a young Algerian woman, ‘’working for you would make me very happy. What position are you offering me?’’

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‘’That of assistant cook, under Charlotte Truffaut. Charlotte, would you in turn accept to work for me as my head cook?’’

‘’With great pleasure, Lady Jeanne.’’ answered the portly woman.

‘’Well, this brings me to a particular point. If you are to become my employees, then I will expect you all to simply call me Jeanne. I may be rich, but you are my equals in the eyes of God, like all other human beings. Understood?’’

‘’Yes, Jeanne!’’ replied in concert her seven employees, making her nod her head in approbation.

‘’Excellent! Go home now and rest well, as we will be quite busy on Monday: we will have a lot to do to furnish and decorate this residence.’’

20:39 (Paris Time)

Friday, July 16, 1847

Quai des Célestin, Right Shore of the Seine River Paris

Nancy, returning to her residence after a visit to the Left Shore, suddenly saw in the growing darkness a small group of men surrounding a lone silhouette crouched against a stone wall near the shore of the Seine. Turning her left ear towards the group, she listened up via the directional microphone implanted in her ear, hearing men’s voices that seemed to mock the one crouched down. Not sure of what was happening, Nancy nonetheless decided to go see what was going on: this part of the Right Shore had a rather bad reputation. As she was approaching at a quick walk, she started to hear the voice of a girl or young woman. She thus accelerated further her pace as the girl’s voice took a begging tone. Nancy arrived at the top of the stone stairs leading down to the shoreline’s sidewalk as one of the men brutally forced the girl to get up.

‘’Are you going to finally obey me, or will I have to teach you a lesson?’’

‘’LEAVE HER ALONE, NOW!’’

Nancy’s shout surprised the three men, who turned around to face her. The man who had grabbed the girl, a stocky man wearing a beard and dressed in rough clothes, laughed on seeing Nancy, who was now quickly climbing down the stairs towards him.

‘’Look at that, guys: a second girl to entertain us tonight.’’

‘’And a well to do girl on top of that.’’ added one of the two other men, who wore a sailor’s outfit. ‘’Her purse must be quite fat.’’

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Nancy did not reply to that, having just decided what she would do. As the man in the sailor’s outfit stepped forward to grab her by one arm, she quickly pivoted on one heel, delivering a swept high kick. Hit on the left temple, the sailor was projected sideways and fell on the pavement, knocked out cold. His nearest companion, frozen by surprise, then got a fist in the plexus that made him crumble to his knees, his breath taken out. Seeing that, the man who had brutalized the girl took a knife out of his belt and gave a murderous look to Nancy.

‘’You are going to regret not having minded your own business, bitch!’’ Nancy waited for him to step forward to strike her, then grabbed his right wrist with her left hand, twisting and crushing it and making the man scream with pain as her grip broke his wrist bones.

‘’This is the last time that you will abuse a girl, you bastard!’’ spat Nancy. Grabbing the man by the throat with her right hand, she crushed his air pipe with a mighty grip, then pushed him with all of her supernatural strength. The man was sent flying into the air, to then splash in the dirty waters of the Seine, disappearing head first under the surface. His inert body came back to the surface after a minute, to float down the current. In the meantime, Nancy turned around to face the girl, who had watched the fight with incredulity.

‘’Follow me, quickly!’’

The girl, an oriental teenager wearing a dirty, tattered dress, followed her without discussion, probably too happy to be out of trouble. She spoke only after she and Nancy had climbed back the stairs and had walked past one city block. Her French was good but had a distinct Chinese accent.

‘’Thank you! Thank you so much, whoever you are.’’

Nancy then surprised the girl for a second time by answering her in perfect Cantonese.

‘’Think nothing of it. My name is Jeanne d’Orléans. What is your name?’’

‘’My name is Mai, Li Mai. You speak Cantonese?’’

‘’As well as Mandarin Chinese and many other languages. You are not wounded, I hope?’’

‘’No! He didn’t have time to become truly violent.’’

‘’And what were you doing at such a place and time, Mai?’’ The young Chinese lowered her head, apparently feeling shameful.

‘’I live along the Seine, miss: I am homeless and penniless since the death of my husband and I survive on charity.’’

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Nancy eyed quickly the thin body of the girl, who effectively looked malnourished.

‘’You will be able to tell me your story once in my home, in front of a good meal, Mai. My house is not too far from here.’’

The two teenagers arrived a few minutes later at the Hôtel de Brinvilliers, whose windows were lit from the inside by oil lamps. Nancy used her key to open the pedestrian’s door that was part of the carriage gates, relocking it behind her and Mai before leading Mai inside, to the kitchen. The cook, Charlotte Truffaut, looked at Mai with a mix of surprise and pity.

‘’My God, Jeanne, where did you find that poor girl?’’

‘’On the shores of the Seine and about to be abused by three men. She is homeless and needs to eat something.’’

‘’I will get some bread and cheese at once.’’

‘’Boil as well some water to make tea and fill a hot bath, Charlotte.’’ As the cook got busy, Nancy gently made Mai sit down at the large kitchen table, bought during the last few days, like the rest of the furniture in the residence.

‘’You are now safe, Mai: you are with friends here. So, tell me your story…from the start.’’

The Chinese teenager lowered her head as painful souvenirs came back to her.

‘’There is not much to say, miss. I was born in Canton, in China, and I am fifteen years old. I became an orphan at the age of seven and was then picked up by French missionaries, who cared for me and educated me. A French officer serving with the French delegation in Canton then noticed me a year ago and married me just before returning to France, bringing me with him. Unfortunately, Bertrand died from cholera just after arriving in France and his family then refused to accept me, taking away my marriage certificate and burning it. They even stole the pension I had the right to as the widow of a French officer. I then had no choice since but to live in the streets.’’ Nancy, moved by her story, put her right hand on top of Mai’s left hand.

‘’You now have a home, Mai: my residence. Know that I am as well a young widow and that I recently arrived from the Caribbean, where my husband died from a tropical fever.’’

‘’You…you are too good, miss.’’ said Mai, bordering on tears. Nancy shook her head slowly at that.

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‘’No, I am simply humane, Mai. Now, if you want to live and work in my home, you will have to obey the main rule here: call me simply Jeanne.’’

‘’Okay, Jeanne. What kind of work do you have in mind for me?’’

‘’We will see about that later, Mai. For the moment, eat. Afterwards, you will take a good hot bath, so that your beauty could come out from under all that dirt.’’ Nancy then left Mai alone at the table as Charlotte put a plate with bread, butter and cheese in front of the Chinese teenager. Mai thanked Charlotte and started eating at once while thinking how lucky she had been to meet Jeanne.

Jeanne returned in the kitchen twenty minutes later, as Mai was sipping with delight a cup of green tea.

‘’So, feeling better now, Mai?’’

‘’A lot better, Jeanne. Thank you again for everything.’’

‘’Bah, that’s nothing! Once you will have finished your cup of tea, I will bring you to the master bathroom.’’

Nancy then went to check the temperature of the water heating up in a big iron pot resting on top of the kitchen’s stove. Satisfied, she filled two buckets with hot water and, grabbing them effortlessly, climbed the steep stairs leading from the kitchen to the upper floor. Mai, like Charlotte, watched her go with her heavy load, mystified.

‘’My god! Jeanne is really incredibly strong. First, she gets rid of the three men bent on abusing me, then this.’’

‘’I must say that she is making many people talk about her.’’ said the cook as she picked up the now empty plate and cup in front of Mai. ‘’Apart from being very strong, she is highly educated and speaks many languages. What is most important, however, is that she is kind and generous.’’

‘’Too true.’’

Nancy’s voice came from the top of the stairs a moment later.

‘’MAI, GET YOUR CUTE ASS UP HERE!’’

‘’Did I say as well that she can be very informal at times?’’ said with a smile Charlotte as Mai got up from the table. The latter giggled at that and hurried up the stairs, finding Nancy waiting for her on the upper floor.

‘’Follow me, Mai. We are going to my private master bathroom.’’

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Passing through the grand staircase well, Nancy led Mai down the corridor leading to the east wing, to enter her large master bedroom, which she had recently furnished with Louis XIV style furniture. There, she pushed open a door giving on a bathroom with a marble floor and a tile-covered tub. Nancy pointed to Mai the bathtub, now half full with hot water.

‘’Take off your clothes and soak in, Mai. I will wash your hair while you soap up.’’ Mai’s modesty made her hesitate for a moment before she obeyed and shed her dirty dress, then her underwear. Nancy eyed with sorrow her thin body, with the ribs visible.

‘’Nobody should live through such misery. I promise you that you will not be lacking anything here, Mai. Now, step in and sit down.’’

Mai stepped in the bathtub and let herself sink down to her chin with delight in the hot water. As she rubbed a bar of soap on her body, Nancy poured water on her head and started washing thoroughly her hair, checking at the same time for the presence of vermin.

‘’You don’t have any fleas or lice, thank God! Were you forced to bed men before tonight? Answer me frankly: I only want to evaluate your overall health.’’

‘’No!’’ answered Mai truthfully. ‘’I did everything to avoid surviving by such means, but the thug that you killed had in mind to force me to prostitute myself for his profit. I owe you my honor, on top of my life, Jeanne.’’

‘’Think nothing of it, Mai. I would have done the same for anyone. Let’s talk about your employment here. I would like to use you as my personal assistant and receptionist. You would greet my guests, would serve them and also do some shopping for me. I am offering you the same pay and benefits as for my other servants: three francs a day, plus lodging, food, working clothes and medical care.’’ Mai looked with surprise at Nancy on hearing that.

‘’But…that’s a lot more than the normal wages. A servant can usually count herself lucky in Paris if she earns one franc a day.’’

‘’Well, I don’t believe in exploiting my employees, contrary to too many nobles and big bourgeois. I also have the financial means to pay good salaries. Tomorrow, we will go shopping together to buy you a decent wardrobe, along with furniture to furnish your room, which is still empty. You will sleep in my bed tonight, unless you object to that.’’

‘’Uh, not at all. You are too good, Jeanne.’’

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‘’Bof! My goal is to create a charitable foundation here in Paris. I might as well start by being generous now.’’

The next morning, Nancy gave a detailed tour of her residence to Mai, showing her in particular the room in the attic level that was going to be hers, which faced the Charles-V Street and had two dormer windows. Mai didn’t miss the fact that her room had been up to quite recently two separate rooms, the adjoining wall having been ripped away to create a single room measuring eight by three meters. She found out at the same occasion that the other domestics that lived in the residence occupied similar rooms, much more spacious than what was considered the norm for servants. There was even a large, comfortably furnished lounge reserved for the employees. What however surprised the most Mai was the small steam-powered pump that now occupied the old gardener’s hut, situated in a back corner of the courtyard. Workers were busy welding in place copper pipes which linked the hut and the residence to a water tower that was still under construction. Other workers were installing on the roofs a number of shallow basins made of tin, which were connected to the water tower by pipes.

‘’What is all this, Jeanne?’’

‘’Progress!’’ replied Nancy, smiling proudly. ‘’Once all this is completed, this water tower and those water collecting basins will provide by gravity clean water to the residence. My maids won’t have to carry anymore buckets full of water up and down stairs, or to pump water from a well. This steam engine will in turn pump water up into the water tower in periods of droughts, on top of heating a hot water tank. That hot water will then circulate through the residence via copper pipes equipped with faucets. I am planning soon to go to England, in order to open a bank account there. That will give me the opportunity to go hire a British sanitary engineer, so that he could come install flush toilets in my residence. My house may not be the biggest or most luxurious in Paris, but I will make it the most comfortable.’’

‘’And who thought about all this, Jeanne? You hired an engineer for this work?’’

‘’No! I took care of the plans and calculations myself.’’

Mai didn’t ask her where she got such knowledge, instead adding this to the growing list of the surprising abilities of Jeanne.

Once the visit was completed, Nancy went out with Mai to go shopping in the small carriage pulled by Pegasus, her personal horse. To the surprise and profound

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emotion of Mai, Nancy stopped her carriage in front of a boutique that specialized in oriental imports. Tears came down on her cheeks when she saw the various pieces of furniture, decorations and silk clothes which had come from her native country. Nancy then spent without a second thought a small fortune to buy for Mai a complete set of lacquered wood furniture for her room, plus a few Chinese art objects and multiple rolls of embroidered silk. Mai couldn’t stop herself from openly crying as she looked at herself in a mirror while wearing a splendid Chinese silk dress bought for her by Nancy.

‘’Thank you, thank you for everything, Jeanne.’’

In response, Nancy gently put one hand on her shoulder as she still cried.

‘’Mai, consider me as a friend, and not as your employer.’’

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