False Pretenses - Kathy Herman [6]
“I’ve read some of Augusta Langley’s diaries,” Vanessa said. “It really bothered her that the British mistreated the Acadians.”
“Mistreated?” Pierce raised his eyebrows, his voice an octave higher. “The British ordered the forced removal of every last Acadian from what’s now Nova Scotia—because they wouldn’t renounce their Catholic faith and become Protestant. And wouldn’t swear allegiance to the British flag and take up arms against France. A third of the Acadians died in the process. I’d say Le Grand Dérangement was more like ethnic cleansing than mistreatment, wouldn’t you?”
Vanessa felt embarrassment scald her face in the awkward silence that followed. “Yes, I suppose it was,” she finally said. “What the British did to the Acadians was similar to what the U.S. government did to the Native Americans. It was shameful.”
“Yes, it was.” Pierce turned his head, his prominent nose suddenly reminding her of Charles de Gaulle. “Louisiana may have been a safe haven, but life in the bayou was totally foreign. Summers were stifling. And I’m sure alligator and crawfish weren’t all that appetizing at first. They learned to make do with whatever they could find. But it’s not like they had a choice.”
“And think of the delicious cuisine that just keeps evolving.” Zoe put her hand on his back as if to calm him down. “Our entire Cajun culture has evolved into something unique in all of America. We can be proud.”
“I am proud. Just not of the way it all came about.” Pierce was quiet for a moment, and the tautness left his face. “Sorry for getting on my soapbox, Vanessa. I used to teach history and have strong feelings about the plight of les Cadiens. Some Acadians were my ancestors who settled here long before that fat cat Josiah Langley bought up the land. No offense.”
“None taken.”
“Langley didn’t even try to adapt. He clung to everything British, right down to the name he gave this place. He chose manor instead of plantation—his way of flaunting his British superiority. The Cajuns resented it.”
“Were any plantations owned by Cajuns?”
“Not around here. French Creoles, not Cajuns.” Pierce’s dark eyes matched his mood. “Back then most Cajuns barely had enough to live on. Look, no one can change what happened, but outsiders should understand how and why the Acadians settled here—and what was taken from them. It drives me crazy that most everything associated with the word Cajun has been reduced to a tourist attraction or a souvenir.”
So Pierce regarded them as outsiders? Vanessa was relieved to hear footsteps coming down the staircase and turned just as Ethan and Carter reached the bottom.
“I thought I heard voices. Hey, guys.” Ethan walked over to Zoe and hugged her and shook Pierce’s hand. “What’s up?”
“Just came to get that tour you offered us,” Pierce said. “Maybe Carter would like to show us around.”
“Yay!” Carter threw Georgie up in the air and then caught him.
“Looks like the yays have it.” Ethan smiled. “He knows his way around as well as I do.”
“And what about the candy man in the closet?” Vanessa raised an eyebrow.
“No sign of him or his lemon drops.” Ethan winked. “I guess he’s moved on.”
“Maybe he went a-a-all the way up on the roof.” Carter stood on his tiptoes, his hands stretched toward the ceiling. “Like Santa Claus!”
“Are you old enough to show Mister Pierce and me all the rooms in the house?” Zoe asked.
“I had my birfday. I’m four.” Carter proudly held up four fingers.
“Well, that’s certainly old enough. Where should we start?”
“There’s a big, big, big, big fireplace—bigger than Daddy. Big as a giant!” Carter took her hand. “I’ll show you.”
“Okay, I’m ready.”
Zoe reached for Pierce’s hand and let Carter lead them toward the back of the house.
Vanessa met Ethan’s gaze and wondered if even he could love that child as much