CHAPTER 9 – LADY JEANNE D’ORLÉANS
20:14 (New Zealand Time)
Tuesday, October 5, 2986 B.C.E. (Before the Common Era)
Family quarters, Time Patrol main base
Future site of the city of Auckland
New Zealand
Nancy Laplante ‘B’ was still wearing her 17th Century outfit when she showed up at the door of her parents’ suite, anxious to see again her baby son. Her mother Susan answered the buzzer and greeted her with opened arms as soon as she opened the door, hugging her joyfully.
‘’Nancy! You didn’t suffer other misadventures, I hope?’’
‘’Don’t worry about me, Mom: I am well. How is Charles?’’
‘’He is presently sleeping in his crib. How much time have you just spent in the 17th Century during the last three days we had here since your departure?’’
‘’About three months.’’ Recognized Nancy with a bit of an embarrassed smile. ‘’I am going to spend three weeks here, to train and update myself and take care of Charles, then I will go back to the Guadeloupe in the 19th Century. Is Dad here?’’
‘’Sure! We were watching a movie together. Come in!’’
Entering the suite behind her mother, Nancy went first to share a hug with her father, Pierre Laplante, a big, solid man with black hair tinged with a bit of gray. She next went to the bedroom she used when living at the base, tiptoeing to the crib installed in one corner of the room to go contemplate in silence her sleeping son. Charles was now two and a half month-old and growing quickly. It would soon be time for him to be presented to D’Artagnan, before he grew too much: Nancy had to be careful in coordinating her timings between the three separate centuries she was now spending regular time into, so that she kept a plausible continuity in her three lives. Presenting a two year-old boy to D’Artagnan after only one and a half apparent years in the 17th Century after her date of conception would be enough to attract many embarrassing questions and doubts.
Resisting with difficulty the urge to pick up her baby and cuddle him, something that would wake him up, Nancy admired her son for long seconds, listening to his calm, regular breathing, then regretfully left the bedroom to go see her parents, who had resumed their movie-watching. Seeing that Nancy seemed to want to talk about something, Pierre Laplante grabbed the remote control and put the movie on ‘pause’, then looked up at his daughter.
‘’You want to talk about something, Nancy?’’
Nancy nodded once, hesitating a bit before answering him.
‘’Yes, Dad! It is about my mission in the Guadeloupe.’’
Pierre frowned before showing her the easy chair placed at an angle with the sofa he and Susan sat in: he, like Susan, had not appreciated the fact that their daughter had to marry a man more than twice her age in order to fill her mission’s goals in the Guadeloupe. He had however accepted, albeit with reticence, the arguments presented by Farah Tolkonen and Mike Crawford that made such a marriage necessary in order to preserve history. The fact that Pierre Alphonse d’Orléans had turned out to be an exceptional, kind and honorable man had helped them swallow that arranged marriage, but Pierre and Susan still had misgivings about that. After all, their daughter was still only fifteen biologically, even if she had 9,000 years worth of souvenirs from past incarnations. Yet, she was now married to a 36 year-old French aristocrat of the 19th Century and was also the mother of an illegitimate baby son from a 39 year-old French musketeer of the 17th Century, on top of being the occasional mistress of King Louis XIV. In a less tolerant, more conservative society than the one of the Global Council of the 34th Century, such a situation would have attracted a torrent of nasty comments and disapproval. Back in the 20th Century Pierre and Susan had grown in, screams of ‘abuse of a minor’ would most probably have risen about Nancy’s situation. Pierre and Susan prided themselves in being open-minded, tolerant people, but the way their daughter’s career as a field agent of the Time Patrol was turning was not much to their liking. Nancy, knowing their feelings about that, spoke softly to them once sitting down.
‘’Dad, Mom, the truth is that I really am in love with Pierre d’Orléans. He is easily one of the better men I ever met…through all of my incarnations. He in turn loves me passionately and is making me most happy. However, his most ardent wish is to be able to have a child from me.’’
Pierre and Susan stiffened at those words, with Susan looking straight into her daughter’s eyes.
‘’I hope that you are still using your contraceptive spray, Nancy.’’
‘’I do! Don’t worry: I am not pregnant. I am however at a point where it breaks my heart to be unable to give to Pierre d’Orléans what he has a legitimate right to ask for.’’
‘’But,’’ objected Pierre, ‘’the Time Patrol said that Pierre d’Orléans did not have any heir from Jeanne de Brissac, according to recorded history, and that she would as a consequence inherit his title and possessions. To discontinue using your contraceptive spray could change history, Nancy.’’
That attracted a frustrated sigh from his daughter.
‘’You know, Dad, I am in truth getting tired of being used like a puppet in order to uphold history and of having to live according to a scenario that is decided in advance for the decades to come. Have any other field agents been obliged to date or marry persons of the past, to be then stuck in a life already planned in detail for them? I did not become a field agent only to be turned into a robot! Yes, I accepted to seduce and then marry a man from the 19th Century in order to create a cover for a person who will have a long term impact beneficial to the Time Patrol. The problem is that I now genuinely love that man and want to give him what will make him truly happy, and this before he dies soon. Is that too much to ask?’’
‘’No!’’ Replied Pierre, lowering his head. ‘’I suppose that any child from that man could be accommodated somehow into history with the help of a few manipulations, in order not to put at risk the future social foundation that you are supposed to create in 1848. If you truly love Pierre d’Orléans, then you have my benediction to have a child from him.’’
‘’Thank you, Dad!’’ Said Nancy, feeling much better. ‘’And you, Mom?’’
‘’You also have my blessing, Nancy. We however still have to convince Mike Crawford and Farah Tolkonen to accept this. It may not be easy to do so.’’
Susan proved to be right about that last point, their meeting the next morning with Farah and Mike going on for more than one hour and becoming quite intense at times. Nancy’s vehemence, along with the flagrantly unjust prearranged life being forced on her, finally convinced Farah and Mike to review in depth their action plan for Nancy’s mission in the 19th Century. When the latter left three weeks later to return to the Guadeloupe of the 19th Century, she was feeling much more comfortable with her mission.
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.
‘’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 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 analyzis 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 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
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 that 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 moment, leaving a moment 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 now on his way to go get Monsieur Tellier with our cart. 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 to 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.’’
‘’Indeed! I married Jeanne to Pierre d’Orléans and I must say that it was the best thing that happened to Sir 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, to then immediately go see Pierre in his room, his paper, pen and sceals 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 has proved to be nearly always 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 rhum 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 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.’’
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 in 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.
‘’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 rhum 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 that 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 rhum distillery.’’
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 than any man, I only want to get an honest price for my plantation. My husband let 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 and poor or abused children.’’
‘’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 rhum and refined sugar?’’
Nancy, who had studied with care the estate and commodities markets of the time, answered him at once.
‘’One hundred thousand francs{16} for the installations, the land and the stocks of rhum 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.
‘’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 rhum 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.
Once in the port of Saint-François, Nancy went to the local bank to retrieve there the two solid, locked chests that 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 Caribean 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 mixt 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-storey 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 deck of the CAMARGUE but, before any of the passengers could go down to firm ground, a group of 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 that 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 opportunity to document a trip on the dawn of rail transport. She had however lived through much worse and endured with patience the trip, conversing with a distinguished English couple that 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 arrive 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 roo