Affaire de Coeur

by Stephanie O’Hanlon

  “His name is Toulouse. Lucien brought him for me. The King’s cat had a litter,” I explained, looking to Lucien for only a moment before I looked back to her.

  She looked up at me. “He is positively adorable! Aren’t you, Monsieur?”

  I expected some offhand comment from her about it being a royal cat, but instead, she petted and baby talked to it. She laughed as it bounced about, trying to attack the bows on her bodice.

  One of the servants came to the door of the salon and stood next to Armand in his usual cream suit with gold braid frogging, holding his black tricorne hat in his hand.

  “Monsieur le Vicomte Armand Durand.”

  Colette looked to him, still smiling. If possible, she smiled larger at the sight of him, holding the kitten up to him. “Look! Look what Lucien brought for Maddy.”

  Armand looked the kitten over, nodding. “Yes, that’s nice. Are you ready for your lesson?”

  I noticed as I glanced into Armand’s piercing, blue eyes that something swirled behind them. It was similar to the look Lucien got whenever we were alone, whenever we had a moment to fall into each other. As soon as I recognized it, I almost gasped. The lusty stare he had for Colette sent my mind into a frenzy, assuming what he really wanted with her.

  Was that not what Colette complained about so often? All the men who often chased after her only wanted her for her body or her father’s purse. It never made sense to me, because the more she complained, the more seductive she made herself around these men. Especially in the past month since Vachel and his doings. Of course, it was all something she refused to speak about. It seemed Armand and Vachel were in the same area.

  Colette turned, reluctantly handing me the kitten and standing up. She gracefully swayed her way over to Armand and led him out through the dining room.

  I looked down at Toulouse as he leaned against me. His eyes slowly closed as he fell sleep.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Toulouse was asleep on my lap for only fifteen minutes when Brielle came in and took him away, making sure to feed him and look after him. He could return to me in the evening.

  Lucien and I sat in the salon for a while, surprisingly just talking, though my whole self burned for him. The heat from the summer was a cool breeze compared to it.

  Even though he looked somewhat tired, he still looked handsome and desirable to me. All the light in the room was picked up by his formal silk white justaucorps, as he was at court that morning. Swirling, leafy green vines made of emeralds and white gems edged his justaucorps, leading up to his stock and solitaire at his neck. His waistcoat had similar, leafy-embroidered designs on a gold background. His breeches were just plain white, blending in with his stockings and round-toed shoes.

  I looked up to his eyes—those dizzying, dark blue eyes. His long, dark hair was pulled back with a big, black bag and bow, and stiff curls above his ears. My eyes could have stayed fixed on him forever.

  “What is it?” he asked, finally noticing my stares.

  I smiled lightly, looking down at my hands. “Nothing.”

  “Admiring the view?” he asked, leaning forward and catching my attention.

  I laughed, covering my face. His hand came up and grabbed my wrist, pulling it away so he could look me in the eye. We stayed like that, staring at each other—dare I say, lovingly—for a few moments. The entire world seemed to stand still as he leaned into me.

  We both looked up at the doorway as Colette’s angered voice filled nearly the entire house. “Oh, please! Absolutely ridiculous!”

  She stomped her way into the salon. The Marquis ran after her. Lucien and I stood from the chaise longue.

  “Please, Colette. Just for tonight. A simple appearance, supper, answer some of their questions, and behave. That is all I ask!” he pleaded, his hands held out to her.

  She crossed her arms. Armand sauntered in after them, standing with his arms crossed in the doorway. He did not look so pleased, himself.

  “Would it really kill you? You like fêtes. That is all you and Madeleine do. In fact, she and the Messieurs can be there. We will have an orchestra in the ballroom. You do not even need to eat all the supper!” He tried to reason with her, his expression extremely tense as sweat appeared on his forehead.

  Colette looked to me and Lucien before she turned to her father, raising her chin to him. “Fine, but I want my diamonds from the safe.”

  The Marquis nodded his head. “Yes, fine. That’s fine. Anything else?”

  She really thought about it for a moment, shaking her head. She realized she could probably push her luck and ask for something else but decided not to.

  He sighed in relief, turning to Lucien first and then Armand. “I hope you both can attend. I apologize for the late notice. This evening at eight, I am holding a little fête in honor of a friend…dinner, some music in the ballroom.”

  Armand stepped forward, taking all the attention in the room. “I think we both will make it a point to arrive, my lord.”

  The Marquis smiled and nodded, pointing to Colette. “I will go and fetch those diamonds.”

  “You needn’t come, tonight. I do not see the point,” Colette said to Armand, her voice filled with contempt.

  Lucien’s face contorted awkwardly, trying to point toward the doorway so we could give them privacy to quarrel, but both Colette’s and Armand’s voices kept us in our place.

  “I thought you would be happy with my attendance, Mademoiselle,” he said, folding his arms to his chest, again.

  “If you were to fall off the planet, nothing but that would make me happier,” she spat.

  I bit my lip, looking toward both exits. They were both so close, yet so far away. If we tried to escape, surely they would see us and yell at us to stay.

  “That was not what you were saying a few moments ago.”

  My body heaved at the sound of Armand’s words, turning to Lucien so my eyes were anywhere but Colette’s angered face.

  “How dare you! Do you think I will stand here and take anymore of this? No! I will not. You will leave, Monsieur!” she yelled, her brow furrowing deeply. The rest of her face went rock solid but scarlet, and her voice filled with stilted anger.

  Armand stood tall, not moving a muscle. “Your father is my patron, Mademoiselle. Not you. Therefore, he is my employer and only he can dismiss me.”

  Colette’s whole body shook with rage. “Fine! Then, I will leave! Good day!”

  She stomped out, right past Armand in a heated huff.

  I looked to Armand, walking up to him. “Must you torture her so? Must you be so rude and arrogant?” I turned back to Lucien. “Please, I apologize. I have to go—”

  “To check on her,” he finished, nodding. “That’s fine. I need to tend to some things before the fête this evening. So, I shall see you then, when I return.”

  I nodded as he bowed to me, signaling a hurried curtsey from me, though he still took the time to kiss the back of my hand. As soon as his lips pressed against the back of it, my heart fluttered. I wanted to throw my arms around him, but I stopped myself. I turned from him and glared at Armand as I left the room, running after Colette as best as I could in my slippers.

  I looked in on Colette’s bedchamber, though she wasn’t there. I quickly ran through to the boudoir where she sat on the chaise longue, looking down at her hands and crying her eyes out.

  I ran forward, kneeling down in front of her. “Oh, Colette. Please, do not cry.”

  She shook her head. “Do you see how he treats me? Everything he says is laced with spite.”

  I sat at her feet, not saying a word. I knew that to do so would interrupt and possibly upset her further. It was always best for Colette to get everything out at once.

  “What is worse is that he does not treat me like that in private. You were right, you know. We have been intimate. We have not slept together. He refuses to do such a thing, but we have kissed and almost gone further than that. That is why he asks you two out of the room,” she so
bbed, sniffling. Her nose was already stuffed up from her tears.

  I already figured most of what she told me, but I kept silent.

  “You know how it happened the first time? It was when you and Lucien were playing croquet. He was actually kind to me, and he did not slap the back of my hand when I made my mistake. He had a hold of my hand and was stroking it before he leaned in to me and kissed me. I could have slapped him. I wanted to, but I just…couldn’t.”

  “I have seen him when he is kind to you. I agree. He does treat you well.”

  “Then, why does he treat me as such in front of other people? Why did he never ask permission to write me, like Lucien asked you? Why is it that he will not ask formally to court me? Instead, he plays these games, treating me like a child!” she ranted, wiping her face carefully. “I want Vachel, but he does not want me!”

  It was true. Vachel had stopped speaking to her. Word was he had traveled to an entirely different city as well. He packed and left after Colette ignored his letters, taking her threat to heart.

  “So, you do not want Armand?” I asked softly.

  She looked to me, tears building, again. Her cat-like eyes glistened. “I don’t know! Yes. I just…no! I…don’t know.”

  “You know that Vachel—”

  “Yes, I know,” she interrupted. “He is no good. He lied. He cheated. He wanted to steal from me, I know. That does not stop me from loving him. I am angry with myself for wanting Armand, but perhaps I just want him physically. If only he would just give himself to me, so I could get that over with. Maybe then, I would get it out of my system.”

  I looked to her hands in her lap before I cleared my throat meekly. I looked up at her. “What was Armand going on about? What you were saying a few moments ago?”

  She rolled her eyes. “I was being stupid and telling him how I felt. I was swept up in the moment. That is all.” She turned away from me, wiping her face, again. “I feel stupid for crying. I hope he does not know I was crying.”

  I frowned, standing up carefully and sitting down on the chaise longue beside her. “I think right now he just knows you are angry at him.”

  She stood up, walking over to the window and looking out. “It is dreadfully hot. I wonder when it’s going to rain. The clouds look thick enough. Perhaps that will break the heat.”

  I frowned again, knowing she was changing the subject for a reason.

  “I no longer wish to talk about it,” she said, turning and walking into her bedchamber and leaving me alone in the boudoir.

  Well, good. I don’t want to talk about it, either.

  That evening, Lucien and Armand both arrived along with the Marquis’s other guests. All were older. Most being business associates, all of them inquired as to what Colette had been up to so far over the summer and how her music lessons were going. Of course, the Marquis had been bragging about getting his hands on Armand for a music tutor.

  I was nearly invisible, standing in the middle of the salon with a glass of spring water in my hand. I was beside Colette, who was a vision in red—one of her favorite colors. The robe à la Française was a deep crimson, the more red side of burgundy, and I adored the gown just as much. Another one I couldn’t wait for her to discard!

  The seams of the stomacher, up around the neckline, and back down was covered with the same colored ruffles. Darker, red material, scrunched up on the stomacher, made shapes of delicious, ruffled roses. Serpentine, pleated material of the same color as the gown edged the open robe, in the same designs on the petticoat across the skirt. Frothy lace stuck out from her arms. Her ruby necklace was her choice for the evening. The large ruby in the center caught your eye as they got smaller, until they met at the back. Of course, she wore the matching earrings and bracelet.

  She was talking to an older gentleman who was inquiring as to how many parties she had been to in the past week, which had been none, as we had not received any invites. Even Rose was scarce around town. Though, she did come by for tea on the weekend and spoke of having another little gambling soiree as soon as she was done with her newest lover, the Italian gentleman. Or was it the Russian one?

  I was wearing an overskirt of pink brocade. All the swirling patterns were another shade of light pink that one could only really notice when I moved in the light. The golden, champagne-colored petticoat shone through the gap of the overskirt, which was lined with gold lace, as was the neckline and around my sleeves.

  I looked over to Lucien, who looked handsome in his white and emerald attire. He obviously did not see a need to change, but that did not matter. He stood with a few gentlemen that he knew because of his grandmother, speaking to them. He met my gaze, smirking. He waited for my predictable, small smile to him before he looked back to the man he was speaking to.

  I didn’t know anyone at this party—only Colette, Lucien, and Armand. Armand was keeping his distance from both Colette and I. In fact, I was surprised he decided to attend the event. He probably did just so he could ruffle Colette’s feathers.

  I suppose it wasn’t entirely true that I knew no one. There were three or four of the men, having seen them at the performance more than two weeks ago. I couldn’t for the life of me remember their names, though.

  Armand walked over to our little group. Surprisingly, he looked to me, instead of Colette. “May I speak to you for a moment?”

  I nodded, confused. I placed my water down and followed him over to a corner. Colette watched us out of the corner of her eye. He looked around cautiously. Though the quiet from the corner gave us a type of bubble of privacy, he still seemed uneasy about ears listening in on our conversation.

  “Do you think…Actually, I need to speak to Colette. Do you think that is wise?” he asked, looking into my eyes.

  I noticed how piercing his eyes were. Such a light blue for such a dark head of hair that he had—his dark brown bagwig with two stiff rolls above the ears. I shook my head. “I don’t know, Armand. I am unsure of her attitude toward you and this situation. Truthfully, I know very little about this situation.”

  “Well, it is probably better that way.” He sighed, looking to Colette as she laughed then back to me. “I need to speak to her.”

  “You said that.” I frowned, rolling my eyes.

  “I know, but that does not mean that it isn’t true. I must, I need to apologize to her. I need to speak with her.”

  “You keep saying that. I quite understand,” I shook my head, slightly annoyed. I hated it when people repeat themselves.

  “Well, can you get me a moment alone? Convince her to speak with me?”

  I looked into his eyes once again, seeing the sincerity that was there. “You care about her, don’t you?”

  He kept his eyes on mine, not moving a single muscle throughout him.

  I looked back toward Colette, finally nodding. “I will try. May I have your word that you will not upset her in any way?”

  He nodded, relieved that I would take the mission. “Yes, oh yes. I give you my word. I must speak with her.”

  “Yes, I know.” I rolled my eyes, turned, and made my way back toward Colette.

  The Marquis stood at the doorway to the dining room, catching everyone’s attention as he asked us all to make our way to the table for our meal, and then to look forward to dancing in the ballroom afterward. He did not give me time to speak to Colette about much of anything. We all filed out and into the dining room, sitting around the table, and filling it. My estimation of people attending being around ten, not including myself, Colette, Armand, and Lucien.

  Dinner was quiet, mainly whispers. Everyone held a separate conversation from everyone else. I noticed little groups of three or four with their heads together, lounging back and looking around the table.

  Colette was pleasant, smiling, and laughing. She was personable to everyone who asked her questions or tried to make conversations with her. Armand was much the same, though his eyes never left Colette. In fact, at one point, I thought he was almost talking to her, bu
t she was on the other side of the table, a few feet away from him.

  Lucien was smiling, making good conversation. He spoke of hunting and what not as he sat across from Colette and I, within hearing distance.

  I didn’t speak to anyone. The only person I wanted to speak to was Lucien, but I couldn’t possibly yell across the table. Even then, I would never want anyone to hear our conversations.

  Colette elbowed me, taking my attention away from the guests.

  “Is it just me, or is he staring at me?”

  I looked over at Armand, who was indeed staring. He was completely fixed on her from down the length of the table. “Yes, he certainly is.”

  “Well,” she said, raising her chin, “he can stare all he likes. Did you see I refused to speak to him when he came to show his respects to my father? Did you see?”

  I nodded. “Yes, I did. I did see. I really think you should speak to him, Colette.”

  “Why? What was it he said to you before, in the salon? Friends so quickly, are we?”

  I frowned, giving her the look—my own look of disapproval for her comments. “Come now. Can you not speak to him for even five minutes? Perhaps he wants to give you an apology.”

  “Is that what he said?” She turned to me, her face almost alight with glee.

  I smiled a little, looking to him and back to her. “I am not saying he did not say it, but I do think you should ask him yourself. Just five minutes, Colette. Give him a dance, a simple turn around the floor. You said that you liked dancing with him after Lucien’s grandmother’s birthday ball.”

  She nodded, turning back toward her plate. “Oh, fine! I suppose one stupid little dance will not hurt, but I am not promising anything. I will not accept that apology, if he even has the guts to give me one.”

  I smirked, raising my own chin and looking down to Armand, whose eyes came to me. I nodded to him slightly. He let out a sigh as he nodded, mouthing “Thank you” to me.

  I turned, smiling, to find Lucien staring at me. His eyes did not leave me. I felt my whole body want to spring up, the delicious shock of it running through me.