Affaire de Coeur

by Stephanie O’Hanlon

  “Any progress with Armand?” I asked.

  She shook her head. “Not really. It is the same as before—passionate embraces, but nothing more. Sometimes, I find myself so frustrated by it! At this point, we are not even a couple. He could fly off and find someone else to entertain him.”

  I really did not know how to respond. She heard all my comments, all my positive words of encouragement. I said that Armand seemed like the type of gentleman that would not do something like that. He genuinely seemed interested in Colette and not just bedding her.

  She always spoke of how she wanted someone to chase after her to be with her, not just her body. Now that a man was actually showing a genuine interest, that was suddenly unacceptable.

  Rose came by, just as she said, for a quick visit of tea, coffee, and some cakes as well as a turn around the grounds before she went off to town for the evening, to one of the more fanciful gambling parties.

  The architect, Cleante Prouix, stopped by and observed the grounds. He was a handsome man with light brown hair and a mustache, and probably the same age as Lucien. He shakily, if nervously, greeted both Colette and I. I was surprised the Marquis entrusted Cleante, a young man, with this particular project. Usually, he had older, more experienced men do his designing and building. I assumed he was another reference, just the same as Armand was.

  I sat at the dining room table, making sure that I stayed out of the way. I was reading my book when he walked into the room from the salon, smiling nervously as he bowed to me.

  “Oh. I am sorry, Mademoiselle. I did not mean to interrupt you.”

  I shook my head, putting my book down for a moment, “No, no. No interruptions. I trust the designs are going well?”

  He nodded, his dark brown eyes looking me over before he took a big breath. “I must…report to the Marquis. Excuse me.”

  I nodded as he left, looking back to my book.

  Colette walked into the room from the salon, seemingly watching from the doorway. She leaned against it as she crossed her arms. “What was that all about?”

  “What?” I looked up at her.

  “He seems to be quite taken with you.” She smiled. “He is quite handsome as well. Not as handsome as the Comte, but he is not unfortunate.”

  “What are you getting at?” I sighed, annoyed.

  “I’m saying that wouldn’t marrying an architect be better than a spice merchant’s inferior?” Her eyes lit up, and she ran over to the table, sitting down next to me, to my right.

  “Oh, Colette. Why does everything have to come back to marriage?”

  “Because! We are not young. Not as young as most of the girls who are getting married. Besides, if Monsieur Prouix were to gain any kind of standing, any kind of fame in his area, you could buy a title! The King could bestow a title!”

  I sighed angrily, shaking my head as I stood. “Colette, this is ridiculous. I am not having this conversation.”

  She frowned, folding her arms. “It’s not like you are attached to anyone. The Comte is a distant memory. Why would you not take this opportunity?”

  “Because I am not attracted to that man. That is why!” My voice raised, and I looked over at her in utter anger.

  She stood. “Do not get all in a tizzy. Goodness, Maddy. What is with you? You know what? Never mind. Go on. Go up to your bedchamber to sulk and write your father.”

  She turned and walked back into the salon, the sacque back of her dark green gown billowing out like a cape.

  “Suits me just fine,” I said to myself.

  I was alone in my room all evening, until I went to meet Lucien by the servant’s entrance. The sight of him comforted my eyes as we escaped up to my bedchamber, where I locked my door.

  He had taken off his justaucorps, waistcoat, and stock and solitaire, and they all lay strewn across the bed. I stood before him as he turned to me, looking down to me and over my nightgown, as I had already made my couchér. Then, he looked into my eyes, stroking my cheek. “What’s wrong?”

  I shook my head, holding onto his hand on my face.

  “No.” He frowned. “There is something wrong. Now, tell me.”

  “It’s nothing,” I said, pulling on his hand as we walked over to the bed.

  “Ah! Tell me, then, if it is indeed nothing.”

  I sat down in front of him, shaking my head. “Ugh, Colette.”

  “Hmmm, as usual. What is it this time?” he asked, crossing his arms.

  “She wants me to marry the architect,” I said blatantly, my mouth scrunching to the side.

  “Ha!” He laughed, his hands falling to his sides. “Is that all?”

  “How is that funny?” I asked, crossing my own arms. “The things she says are upsetting, Lucien. She thinks I have no one. She thinks I am still naïve, little Madeleine with no one to love, not knowing how to love. It hurts.”

  He frowned. “Do you want to tell her, then? We can if you wish.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Yes, because that is a good idea. She would wring my neck. I want to wait at least until my father comes home. Then, I will be able to go home and not worry about being in a place that I feel unwelcome in.”

  He nodded. “I see.”

  I stood up and walked into his arms as he wrapped them around me tightly, taking a deep breath of his cologne. I loved the smell of Lucien.

  He looked down to me. “We will speak of those things, later. Now, we should just enjoy the moment.”

  He picked me up and threw me on the bed, my nightgown shifting around me. “No! No, Lucien. You can’t. Colette is in her bedchamber.”

  “The door is locked.” He laughed.

  I nodded. “I know, but if she hears, she will know someone is in here with me!”

  He got on top of me, holding my wrists down and looking me in the eye. “There is someone in here with you, is there not?”

  He kissed me lightly on the lips before kissing my neck. His hands slowly ran down my arms and to my legs, where he pulled up my nightgown. He kissed the middle of my chest over the material and then my stomach, venturing further and further down, until my eyes rolled back in my head, my hips driving upward.

  I grabbed hold of one of my pillows, putting it over my face as I tried to stifle a moan. A sudden jiggle from the handle on the other side of the door to the boudoir caused both Lucien and myself to suddenly look up.

  “Maddy? Madeleine, why is the door locked?”

  Colette was on the other side, knocking at the door and pulling at the handle.

  I sat up, jumped off the bed, and pulled my nightgown down. I pushed Lucien down on the bed and yanked the drapes around it, encasing him inside. I then tore over to the door and unlocked it, my face flushed and heated.

  She looked me over, her face creased with confusion or annoyance. “What on Earth is going on?”

  I shook my head, pushing my hair off my shoulder, “What do you mean?”

  “You are locking the door, now?” she asked, most definitely angry on some level, though curious.

  I licked my lips. “I must have done it by accident. You know I never lock that thing.”

  She nodded, looking around, unsure of what she was indeed looking for. “Fine.”

  “What is it? What’s wrong?” I asked, crossing my arms around my chest. My legs shook and my thighs still pounded from Lucien and his antics.

  She turned, crossing her own arms. “Armand. What else? He is like a stupid kettle. He blows hot one moment and is stone cold the next.”

  My mind kept slipping to Lucien, and my heart beat a mile a minute as I thought about Colette finding him. What would she say?

  “I don’t know what I am to do…but I see you are off to bed. Might as well. We have an early day tomorrow…breakfast with Stanzy.”

  I groaned. “Ugh. Why?”

  “Why not? They are my friends.”

  “They are terrible people, Colette! I bet even they get confused about who they are to hate and why. They find something new about everyone, e
very day. Even the Dauphine is subject to their angered little whimsies.”

  She shook her head. “No, they are my friends. They are the only reason I know what people say about me.” She crossed her arms again, looking down at her feet.

  “What they say about you? What do you mean? You said something like that before. What’s going on?”

  “Nothing. Never mind. Go to sleep. You will need it.” She turned and walked off through the boudoir, closing the door behind her.

  I stood for a moment, turning to see Lucien picking his clothes up off the bed and walking toward the door.

  “Where are you going? No, wait!” I ran over to him, standing in front of him.

  He looked at me. “I should go. Someone else could come in here and find us.”

  I shook my head. “They can find us whenever we are in here. Now, stay. Please?”

  He sighed, gazing into my eyes. He looked as if he was going to say something about it, but instead he nodded, tossing his clothing on the pink velvet armchair.

  I smiled as I grabbed his hand, checking the lock on both doors to make sure no one could come in while we were busy. I then led him over to the bed, pushed him down on it, and pulled his blouse up over his head and off, tossing it to the floor. I ran my hands all over his chest as he grabbed my waist, holding onto it as I leaned down and kissed him. My hair fell all around him—a blonde curtain surrounding him.

  He pulled my nightgown up and over my head. The soft material ran over my body silkily. Not wasting a moment, he grabbed me—now naked—and roughly pushed me down onto the bed.

  His breeches were always the last to go. They were quickly off, one of his “assurance caps” securely on, and not a moment too late. We were making love, his thrusts long and slow, and his hands on my wrists above me, holding me down.

  I was breathing heavily, mainly trying to stop myself from letting out a moan. One quickly escaped me, though it was very low. As soon as I let out the moan, Lucien let one out himself, causing a quick flash of intense pleasure to run through me, and incidentally, yet another moan.

  It continued like that—the sounds of one another adding to our own pleasure—until my whole body started to rock, and a pulsing building within me. Lucien’s hands let go of my own and supported his upper body as he buried his head into the pillow beside me.

  Chapter Seventeen

  I was lying on my side, watching as he slept peacefully. His face was smooth as the candlelight from the lone candle on the table next to my bed bounced off it.

  His hair was loose around him. Big, loose, but thin waves scattered across the pillow, and the tips kissing his shoulders only slightly.

  I smiled softly as I continued to stare, his body stirring as he turned on his side toward me. His large hand reached out to me, grabbing my hip and pulling me closer to him. His eyes did not open for a moment, and he really didn’t wake up.

  I think at that moment, I realized how much I loved Lucien. Our affair was new, but the first moment I met him, I fell in love with him. That is what that feeling was. That was the feeling I would always hold for him.

  With my head on the pillow next to him, I stroked his cheek softly with my thumb, my fingers resting on his jaw and in his hair.

  He moaned lightly, sighing tiredly. “Are you awake?”

  “Yes,” I nodded, leaning forward and kissing his forehead.

  He smiled, not opening his eyes. His hand was still firmly on my hip. “It is usually I who does that.”

  “I know,” I said quietly.

  He opened his eyes, looking at me. “Cannot sleep?”

  I shook my head.

  He sighed heavily, sitting up in the bed. He wiped his face before turning to me. “Shall I keep you company?”

  “You can go back to sleep if you wish. I didn’t mean to wake you.” I turned on my back and looked up at him.

  He leaned over to me, resting his head on my shoulder. “I would, but now I am awake, Mademoiselle. I see you are pondering something, and I wish to inquire what it is.”

  I smiled, letting my head rest against his. “I was just thinking how much I love you.”

  “That is all?” He laughed. “I think about how much I love you often. It never keeps me from sleep, though. That surprises me, as it probably should. Then again, I sleep next to you each night, and you wear me out.”

  I pouted as I grabbed his hand, pulling it over to me and looking it over. “Do you believe in falling in love with someone, just through a first meeting?”

  “Love at first sight?”

  “Yes.” I nodded, looking over his hand. I tried to keep my eyes occupied, away from him and a possible look of disbelief or perhaps that I was stupid. Though, Lucien would never look at me that way.

  “Did you fall in love with me the moment you saw me?” His voice broke through my thoughts.

  I turned to him, his head coming from my shoulder. His dark blue eyes met with mine. I nodded. “I did.”

  He leaned into me, sweeping his lips against my own as a shiver flew through me. His voice hovered at that insatiable coo. “I don’t think there was a moment where I did not love you.”

  I smiled as he kissed me, again. “Oh.” I pulled away from him. “I almost forgot to tell you. The Marquise has requested to have a new extension built on the garden, some sort of little lover’s rendezvous.”

  “Ah, hence the architect,” he said, nodding.

  “Yes, the architect.” I rolled my eyes, looking toward the door to the boudoir, thinking of Colette asleep in her bed.

  “What is he like?” Lucien asked.

  I looked at him, shaking my head. “He is not you. That is all that matters to me.”

  “Come now.” He smirked. “Humor me. Tell me what he is like.”

  I took a deep breath, sitting up. “He is tall with light brown hair, dark brown eyes, a mustache, probably your age, very skittish, and very nervous.”

  “Nervous.” His brow furrowed. “Why is that?”

  The wide neck from my nightgown fell down my shoulder as I shrugged. “I am unsure.”

  “Well.” He looked down to my naked shoulder. “Does he seem interested?”

  I rolled my eyes, looking to the door. “I neither know nor care.”

  He pushed up the nightgown, up over my shoulder before stroking down my arm. “You said you would humor me.”

  I sighed, annoyed. “I don’t know! Yes! I…probably! What does it matter?”

  He stared at me for a moment, almost surprised by my outburst, but he frowned. “I suppose it does not matter.”

  I scooted toward him, putting my hands on either side of his face, and pulled it up to look into my eyes. “I only want you. That is why it hurts when…when anyone mentions us not being together. It hurts, Lucien. I do not want to be with anyone else.”

  “I do not want to be with anyone else, either.”

  “Then, why ask? Why bother with it?” I pouted, looking down at his mouth.

  “Just curious. Just wondering who else sees you as I do,” he began, his eyes meeting with mine for only a moment before he continued. “I told you before that I liked it that no one else saw you. Do you remember that?”

  I nodded, lying back on my pillows.

  “Well, do you know why?” he asked.

  I shook my head lightly.

  “It gives me something entirely my own and separate from court or obligations, any of the details and fine print that come with my father’s title of Comte.” He stroked my cheek lovingly, licking his lips before he continued yet again. “With you, I am just Lucien, just yours. What is best about that is that because of who you are, where you are from, you are just Madeleine. Just mine, all mine.”

  I smiled wide at him.

  “I see that you are in favor of such selfishness on my part.” He chuckled.

  I continued smiling until a thought sprang to mind. My fingers reached up and played with the tips of his hair, and I looking down at his shoulder. “Has anyone else…been all
yours before?”

  “How do you mean?” His brow creased as he looked down at my hand.

  “Colette has said a lot of women would like to be Comtesse.” I shook my head mindlessly, as if the subject were of no real importance.

  “Ah.” He nodded. “Well, she is right in that. Yes, I have had offers, as you saw at my grandmother’s party, and yes, I have entertained women before. Though, as you know, all the courtiers are vapid and uninteresting and…not you.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Yes, I am so interesting.”

  “You are not?” he asked, surprised.

  I frowned, my mouth twisting slightly to the side. “No…at least, that is what I am told. What is so interesting about someone who is invisible? I am obviously not of interest, or else I would be noticed, like Colette.”

  He stopped for a moment, looking into my eyes before he took a breath, grabbing my hand in his. “Have you heard the things they say about Colette?”

  “What things?”

  “She is not favored among her friends, Madeleine. At least, they do not speak of her favorably.” He looked me in the eyes very seriously, speaking as if his tone would make me understand. “I thought you heard these things?”

  “Not lately, I…the only reason I really listened to gossip in the first place was to find things out about you and the Chevalier, of course. Even Colette heard those things on some level.”

  “Well,” he started, nearly wincing in anticipation before he continued, “they speak of her drinking, her gambling…her affair with the Chevalier. There has also been a rumor that she has been entertaining both the Vicomte and her friend—the one I briefly met.”

  “Étienne?” I asked, my eyes widening.

  “Yes,” he nodded.

  “That’s a lie!” I cried out.

  “Yes.” He held out his hands, trying to calm me, to quiet me. “I assumed as much, but from her flirting, which you know she is quite excessive about, and her love for entertainments like gambling, Constanze’s fête’s, and dancing with anyone who will walk on the floor with her, it is not hard to see where they get it from.”

  I sighed, turning and slamming myself down on the pillows, pulling my knees up, and biting at my index finger. I knew he was right. What was worse, I didn’t have anything I could really add to it…Colette saw kisses like handshakes. Did she give them out so freely?