A Bordeaux Dynasty: A Novel

by Françoise Bourdin

  She hated him for a second, but then he gave her a disarming smile before speeding away.

  Aurélien had no difficulty convincing his notary. The Laverzacs couldn’t possibly do without a secretary at this time of year, and so Varin agreed to send Frédérique to Fonteyne with little fuss. Aurélien, just like Jules, always wound up getting what he wanted. Since his adopted son had suggested this young woman as a replacement for Laurène, Aurélien had no doubt that this was the right choice. Frédérique made an excellent impression on Aurélien as soon as he saw her. First and foremost because she was pretty, and also because she was eager to find out about the tasks she was going to be performing. Aurélien suggested that she stay at Fonteyne for the duration of the harvest, and she accepted with obvious glee. Living at the Laverzacs’ very much appealed to her, especially since she’d be on the same floor as Jules. The memory of their lovely night together was still fresh in her mind, and she’d waited in vain for him to give her a call. She was convinced that the fact that she’d gone to bed with him so quickly didn’t play in her favor, though she had been honest when she told Jules that it was the first time she’d ever gone to a hotel with a man. When Mr. Varin first talked to her about Aurélien’s request, she immediately imagined all kinds of scenarios. She tried not to appear too thrilled when she first got to Fonteyne and realized, after just a few hours, that she needed to be liked by the father in order to get close to the son.

  Robert and Pauline, for their part, had little-by-little abandoned their Bordeaux hotel and limited themselves to long walks in the woods. During those September afternoons, Robert hated himself for coming back to Fonteyne to see Pauline again. She granted him only fleeting moments, ignored his feelings, and treated their rendezvous as little escapades that were only just for laughs. She took advantage of a situation that served and flattered her, that she enjoyed, but she kept Robert at bay and made sure that things between them didn’t become serious.

  The official proclamation of the date for the beginning of the harvest was finally made. Traditionally, an opening banquet was organized each year before harvesting began. Aurélien suggested that Laurène be added to the guest list. Jules advised him against doing so, arguing that they couldn’t invite the daughter without the father, that it should be either the entire family or no one. Aurélien was displeased but didn’t insist. He would miss Laurène’s presence, but he wasn’t ready to make amends with Antoine. Not yet.

  Alexandre divided his time between Mazion and Fonteyne, trying to be as discreet as possible in his comings and goings so as not to upset Aurélien. Dominique permanently displayed her anger, but didn’t leave Fonteyne, held there by her overwhelming workload. She openly disapproved of Aurélien. Day after day she had to put up with his moods, and she thought his fit of anger at Mazion had been downright excessive. But she kept her mouth shut, for fear that he would prevent Alex from working over there.

  The day before the banquet, the atmosphere in the house had become electric. Robert wanted to accompany Jules in the vineyards, wistful in spite of himself at the thought of leaving Fonteyne two days later. A radiant sun made the grapes shine, and Jules was in an ebullient mood. As always, Robert had a hard time keeping up with him, and they wound up sitting on a low wall to smoke. Prudently, Robert asked how Laurène was doing and what Jules thought he was going to do in the future. When he learned that his brother, with a quiet self-confidence, had decided to marry Laurène next spring, he was stunned.

  “I’m a bit more discreet than you are,” Jules told him with a grin. “Right now, though, the timing of the news is anything but ideal.”

  “You think you can make Aurélien and Antoine bury the hatchet?”

  “Of course! They’re going to be bored this winter, so it’ll be easy. …”

  Robert said he didn’t understand why Jules had let Laurène leave for Mazion.

  “She must be dying to be here with you. What’s this … purgatory you’re imposing on her?”

  Jules glared at Robert and said, “If you weren’t my brother, I’d tell you to go to hell.”

  He said that without animosity, as a simple observation.

  “You sent her to the sidelines to see if you can be without her?” Robert continued, ruthlessly. “Or else you’re like Dad; as soon as something is gained, you don’t bother with it anymore. Is that it? Or maybe you just don’t want to do what is expected of you. …”

  “So you’re a psychoanalyst now?” Jules asked. He was not smiling.

  Robert offered him another cigarette and Jules took it. They kept quiet for a while, but Jules could tell his brother was still thinking about what they’d just discussed.

  “Say what you have to say,” he finally blurted out.

  “I’m thinking that if Laurène gets really annoyed with the situation, she might be very difficult to deal with, and you’re going to have your hands full. Am I wrong?”

  Jules gave his brother an inscrutable look before saying, “I don’t know.”

  Robert let out a long sigh. He looked at the impeccable rows of vines all around him.

  “You have a funny way of loving, you know. …”

  “Aurélien told me the same thing the other day. Not as gently as you just did, mind you. But it seems to me that it’s no business of his. Or yours.”

  Robert straightened and said, “Especially coming from me. Is that what you think?”

  “A little. … When I see you with Pauline …”

  “Yes, it’s true. It’s a total disaster with her. But it’s not very gracious of you to talk to me about her.”

  “You’re the one talking to me about her. And you want me to pretend that I don’t see the two of you? Even with my eyes closed, I run into you. You’ve been insanely reckless. And trying to keep Louis-Marie from seeing you outside a hotel isn’t my favorite thing to do in life. …”

  Exasperated, Robert raised his eyes to the sky. To think about Pauline drove him crazy, and he didn’t have the courage to face reality straight on.

  “What are you guys going to do in the future?” Jules asked him, softly. “Are you going to do the same foolish thing every time you’re at Fonteyne? And what’s going to happen when one of you gets tired of the game you’re playing? You’re going to go on vacation at different times? If Aurélien finds out about all this, he’s never going to forgive you. You’re going to wind up with the entire family against you. … I don’t want that. I missed you for those six years, you know. …”

  Jules could tell that his brother was troubled. He saw Robert’s distress as something unpleasant and futile. But he didn’t want him to stay away for years again.

  He added, in a low voice, “Since she doesn’t love you, why don’t you—”

  “That’s not true! She prefers Louis-Marie, I know, but the two of us …”

  “There’s no two of you. It doesn’t exist. It’s nothing.”

  Robert found no reply. He lowered his head, not wanting to meet his brother’s gaze.

  “I love you, Bob,” Jules whispered before leaving the low wall.

  He knew that Robert wouldn’t follow him. Without Laurène and without Pauline, Jules could’ve had a strong relationship with his brother. But women stood between them, and there was nothing they could do about that. They would probably have to wait until they were old to find each other again.

  Pauline watched Louis-Marie as he dressed. She thought it’d be wise to stay with him during naptime, and they wound up making love, just as she’d imagined they would. She didn’t want him to be suspicious at all. That her vacation would soon be over didn’t make Pauline sad, as she knew that Robert also lived in Paris. Amoral and well organized, she felt no guilt.

  She thought that soon she’d have to pack their things and that Esther would be a pain in the neck the first few days without her cousins.

  She stretched and said, “I really like this place.”

  Louis-Marie nodded with a smile. He also liked it, but he didn’t feel like stay
ing here.

  “What are you guys going to do after your father is gone?”

  Taken aback by the question, Louis-Marie didn’t know how to answer at first.

  “Well …” he finally said, “nothing. Jules and Alexandre are here to take care of things.”

  “You’re never going to sell Fonteyne?”

  “Sell? Are you kidding? If we raise our children right, Fonteyne will still belong to the family in a hundred years. It’s a huge enterprise, and it’s a great asset for us all.”

  Pauline made a skeptical face.

  “All of you might not always agree about that.”

  Louis-Marie, truly amused, began to laugh.

  “I’m sure my father planned for it all. Four sons and their wives getting involved—I’m sure he took care of everything.”

  “And you’re not worried about that? Same with Robert?”

  Louis-Marie didn’t know what Pauline was getting at.

  “However Aurélien decided to preserve Fonteyne will be accepted.”

  “By everyone? Without exception?”

  Louis-Marie’s expression was new to Pauline.

  “I’m certain of it,” he said, slowly. “You see, Pauline, when I say that I don’t care about Fonteyne, it’s only partly true. I don’t want to know how it works, I want no part in running it. I’m just not interested. … But if one day, for some reason, there was no one to take care of the estate, I think that I’d be capable of leaving Paris behind to take charge. I wouldn’t be thrilled about it, but I’d do it.” He laughed and added, “If Dad heard that, it’d be music to his ears.”

  “He gave you the bug, didn’t he? All of you.”

  “No, only respect for the place. That’s enough.”

  Seeing Pauline’s incredulous expression, Louis-Marie continued, “I’m not sure how I can explain it to you. … Fonteyne will always be in my life. In all of our lives. We can forget about it, Robert and me, because we know that things are running smoothly here. But if Fonteyne came crashing down because of us, I’d feel buried under its rubble for the rest of my life. It’d be like … like losing my own identity.”

  Moved by Louis-Marie’s words, Pauline smiled.

  “I never would’ve thought that you cared so much for it. It’s only a nice little castle. …”

  “No, it’s not. It’s an entire universe that I know inside out, eyes closed, down to the last piece of furniture. And because of it, I’m always going to be financially set. And so will you. No matter what I might’ve said, the wine that we produce here fills me with pride.”

  Pauline went over to him and kissed him lightly on the lips.

  “You’re as romantic as a teenager. Now, while you’re getting off your cloud, I’m going to Bordeaux. I want to find something to wear at tomorrow’s banquet.”

  He looked at her longingly. Then he took out his checkbook from his jacket and handed it to her. She nonchalantly dropped it in her purse before leaving the bedroom.

  After leaving Robert, Jules walked for a long time and found himself on the edge of some woods facing the vines. It was one of his favorite spots. He felt calm, cheerful even, but a million miles from what he thought he should be feeling. He couldn’t stop thinking about Laurène. What if Robert was right? What if, having finally reached his goal, he was now turning from his objectives? What if he’d felt passion for Laurène only as long as she was unattainable?

  He rejected the logical conclusion of his reflections and turned his attention to the furrows in the vineyards in front of him. All he had to do was to gaze at the fields to straighten out his mind. He felt no angst, no melancholy when he dealt with his vineyards and the wine he was producing. He hoped that his passion for Fonteyne would protect him from everything in the future, as it had always had.

  He’d wanted Laurène. And he’d gotten her. He sincerely thought that he would love her for the rest of his life, even if she played only a secondary role in it. He’d been so naïve to mistake desire for love. He was certain he was in love with her, though he wasn’t possessed with the urge to go over there to see her all the time.

  Out of sight, out of mind, he thought. I have to invite her over for dinner. … Not tonight and, of course, not tomorrow. The day after that, then. …

  He began walking again, his stride as energetic as usual. Once near the castle, he saw Aurélien talking with Frédérique on the terrace. He made a turn toward the cellar’s entrance and went down the stairs. The presence of a pretty woman pleased Aurélien, it went without saying. The impulse Jules had felt for her when they first met had died down. His situation with Laurène had shoved everything else to the side. But Frédérique was a beautiful woman, even more so than he’d remembered.

  He verified the hygrometry level that the indicator showed in the third cellar. He walked along the bottle racks, sand and gravel crunching under his boots. He was feeling good, whole again since he’d stopped torturing himself over a woman.

  After one last glance, he turned on his heels, satisfied with his inspection. To reconcile Aurélien and Antoine wouldn’t be too difficult; he was convinced of that. And his wedding with Laurène would once and for all solve all the problems having to do with Mazion. Antoine’s land would one day belong to the Laverzacs, not the other way around. Aurélien must’ve thought about this often. And in the end, Alex would have to be sent over there. His only shot at independence was in Mazion.

  Jules shivered, as it was cold in the cellar. He absentmindedly took a look at some of the barrels, something he’d done a dozen times the past couple of days.

  And it suddenly struck him that being married required giving up some of his freedom. Jules had always loved his freedom, ferociously so. Even with Aurélien and Fonteyne, he felt as though he was independent. Fonteyne didn’t keep him prisoner; every morning he chose to be there, because it was his passion.

  The idea of having to change his life, if only in a small way, displeased him tremendously. But he knew it was time for him to get married. And Laurène was well worth changing some of his habits for—giving up going to nightclubs and having one-night stands. She could give him just what he was beginning to realize he wanted: children.

  He came out of the cellar whistling and set out to find Lucas.

  Pauline had finally found something she wanted. In an upscale boutique, she tried on a slew of outfits before falling for a draped chiffon dress she thought looked fabulous on her. The brand name justified the price, so she bought the dress with no misgivings at all. She loved spending money, and Louis-Marie never tried to stop her.

  She was coming out of the hair salon when she ran into Laurène. Her exclamations of surprise and joy were clearly over the top. Then she dragged Laurène to a tearoom.

  “It’s so sad not seeing you at Fonteyne anymore,” she said. “You have no idea.”

  Without asking for Laurène’s preferences, Pauline ordered pastries for the two of them.

  “Are things hopping in Mazion?” she asked.

  “The harvest is following its course,” Laurène answered, flatly.

  “I don’t have to tell you about the atmosphere at Fonteyne! You know more about that than I do. Your sister and Fernande are up to their eyeballs preparing tomorrow’s banquet, Aurélien is hiring laborers, and Jules is everywhere at once.”

  Laurène was eating with little enthusiasm, and Pauline couldn’t resist asking, “Where do things stand with you and Jules?”

  Laurène started to blush, and Pauline guessed the answer.

  “You guys made up?” she said. “That’s amazing. Jules hasn’t said a thing to us about it. He’s so discreet.”

  “With the rift between our fathers,” Laurène said without much conviction, “he thought this would be a bad time to talk about it.”

  “It’s none of our business anyway.”

  Pauline smiled. She thought that Laurène looked morose and wondered why that was.

  “If he doesn’t find something more important to do between now a
nd then,” Laurène said, “we’re going to get married in the spring.”

  Pauline remained slack-jawed for a second, then slowly set her pastry down on the plate.

  “Laurène! You say that in such a way … That’s fantastic news!”

  “It will be. When Jules decides it’s time to announce it. But there’s going to be the harvest, then vinification, then his trip to England. Aurélien’s every whim and Fonteyne’s every requirement will come before us. …”

  Laurène lowered her head, trying to hold back her tears. Pauline stared at her with curiosity. She reached for Laurène and lifted her chin.

  “Really?” she asked. “Why do you put up with it?”

  “Because I love him,” Laurène responded simply.

  Both women looked at each other in silence for a moment.

  “I love him,” Laurène finally muttered with bitterness, “and so I wait until he gives me the nod, when he feels like the time has come. And I’m going to have to be there, available, happy as a clam.”

  Pauline nodded and put a measured amount of contempt into her reply.

  “That’s great. … I could never do that. That macho stuff, what a bunch of crap! Hope you have a lot of fun!”

  “I don’t have any choice,” Laurène protested.

  Pauline picked up her pastry again and devoured it greedily, then she delicately wiped her fingers on a small paper napkin.

  “Why wait for him to whistle for you? I know that you’re young, timid, and in love. But you’re making things too convenient for him. You’re starting down the wrong path.”

  Laurène was watching her, and Pauline pretended to hesitate before explaining, a smile on her face, “Remember the picnic? It’s when you decided to stop being a good little girl that Jules reacted to you. Am I wrong?”

  “No. …”

  “And that doesn’t make you think? Maybe Jules doesn’t like women who fall into his arms? Maybe he prefers those who resist him? You went home to Daddy like a good girl, and all the while the Laverzacs are wooing their latest plaything, a certain Frédérique, hired the very same day you left.”