Affaire de Coeur

by Stephanie O’Hanlon

  “A gift?” Constanze asked. Her interest was obviously piqued. “From whom, may I ask?”

  “Monsieur le Comte Lucien de Laurent,” Colette rang out once again, only too happy to rub that in their faces.

  I thought they were her friends. I see it is a two-way street.

  Yolande’s face froze. She looked to me as her smile suddenly melted away. Her eyes angrily pressed upon me, completely shocked by the revelation.

  “Now,” Constanze said, looking to me. “that is interesting.”

  I looked down to Toulouse, who purred in my lap, leaning against me.

  “Where did he get such a thing?” Constanze leaned forward, her elbow resting on her leg and her fist under her chin.

  I licked my lips. “The King’s cat had a litter. He knew my affinity for animals and thought I would appreciate giving him a home.”

  “The Comte?” she asked, pretending to be stupid.

  “No.” I shook my head, pointing to the cat. “Toulouse.”

  She smiled a fake, wicked smile that sent a shiver through me. “Of course, how silly of me. The Comte already has a home, doesn’t he?” She looked to Yolande, whose face went white, her expression stone cold. “In fact, he is attending Yolande’s dinner engagement this evening. I am sorry you two could not attend, but her salon is at capacity as it is with the guest list.”

  I felt my whole body heave, and a flash of fear ran through me. My hands shook as I stuttered, “He…he is going to your event this evening?”

  Yolande looked up, sensing I was rattled by the revelation. Her chin raised as her face smoothed out. “Yes, he is.”

  “Doesn’t really matter whose engagement he goes to. He has that lady he absolutely obsessed with,” Colette said, grabbing Toulouse from my lap and pulling him into hers.

  Constanze licked her lips, her eyes finally coming away from me as she looked about. “Yes, I have had rotten luck trying to find out who she is. I don’t even have any idea when or where he visits upon her.”

  “He has been sparse around here. I actually cannot remember the last time we saw him here. Maddy, do you remember?” Colette squinted as she looked to me, holding Toulouse up by her chin.

  I smeared my lips together, the color moving around on them. “I believe it has been a few weeks. He is very busy.”

  “Oh, is that what he writes you?” Colette kissed the top of Toulouse’s fuzzy head, her eyes glinting with mischief. As much as they were her friends, she thought of it as a contest. Who did the Comte like more? Only I truly knew the answer to such a question, though I shook with the revelation of Lucien visiting upon Yolande.

  Why had he accepted such an invitation?

  I braced myself, clearing my throat. “He does not write me as often as before, but yes, in his letters.”

  Such a thing did not impress Yolande, though from her face, I could tell that she still reveled in the fact that she had shaken me.

  I was visibly shaken.

  I only hoped that it wasn’t something Colette picked up on.

  Chapter Eighteen

  After breakfast, I grabbed Toulouse in my arms and marched my way ahead of everyone else toward the house. I stopped at the foot of the stone steps, looking to my left, and seeing a large spectacle of laborers bustling past me and disappearing down the path from which I had come.

  I placed Toulouse down on the top step, watching as he skittered into the room safely before I turned and made my way, following the path that eventually forked. The left led to the orchard, to the right the forest.

  I walked along it to a little clearing, shocked by how much earth the workers had already moved in a short day. All the laborers bustled about. I watched as they moved things, some complaining while others just made normal conversation about the work they needed to have done.

  “Oh, Mademoiselle.”

  I turned to see Cleante beside me. His attire was not completely appropriate, for he stood in a dirty blouse and brown breeches.

  He ran his hand through his short cropped hair. “I am sorry if we disrupted your day—”

  I shook my head. “Oh, no. It is I who is being a disruption. After all, you are all working so hard. I was just wondering what it is you are building exactly.”

  “Well, it is a mixture of things.” He laughed lightly, brushing his hand through his hair once again, a seemingly nervous gesture of some sort. He pointed to a path they had already set up. He walked along it with me, as he pointed to it. “We are going to extend the path, putting in a type of pavilion, though the Marquise does not want a roof on the structure, to better see the stars at night. She also wishes there to be vines and trees around it, so the walls are closed in and the inside is protected from sight, except for the little entrance we will have in it.”

  Excited, he stepped toward the men who were laboring away, doing various duties. A smile whipped under his mustache. “It will look aged, like it has been here for centuries, and made of stone, of course. Then, a path will lead off into the forest.”

  I tried to picture it in my head, but I knew the Marquise’s final design would be completely different than my own. I shook my head, smiling as I looked over the workers. “How is progress?”

  “Very good, Mademoiselle. We should be finished by the end of the month. It is a simple design, and the Marquise wants everything done as quickly as possible, so it is all pre-made. We are currently waiting on the columns.”

  I looked over the area, and the moderately-sized bare area before the forest folded around it.

  Cleante cleared his throat, and my eyes went to him as I nodded. I turned and walked away, back down the path to the house.

  “Mademoiselle—”

  I turned back to him. “Oh, please. Madeleine.”

  “Madeleine.” He sighed, almost happy I relieved him of such formalities of calling on me. “Ummm, I heard talk of the deadline for my project to be at the beginning of August, for your birthday celebration.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Oh, yes. Mademoiselle Du Lorme wishes me to have a grand spectacle for my day of birth.”

  “So…so, you are staying here for that length of time?”

  “Yes.” I nodded. “My father will be away for another month.”

  “Oh.” He seemed interested, and his eyes glistened in the early July sun. “What is his trade?”

  “The spice trade. He is away in Sweden.” I folded my hands before me.

  “Ah. Well, that is quite nice that the Du Lorme’s wish to house you for that time.”

  I nodded. “Yes, quite.”

  We stood for a moment, silence between us, and my eyes looking around awkwardly before I nodded again and went to turn away.

  “Madeleine,” he called out, stopping me. “I…I just, I wanted to inquire of your status.”

  “My…status?” I asked, looking around the area, trying to think of what he could possibly mean.

  “Yes, your…your marriage status,” he stammered.

  “Oh. I have none. I am neither betrothed nor married.”

  “Oh, good.” He looked down to his feet, and suddenly looked up again as he realized what he said. “I mean, not good. I just, that is…I…never mind. Please, forgive me.” He turned and nearly ran in the other direction, toward the project site.

  I shook my head and turned toward the house. I knew Colette would be waiting for me in the chapel, for the Abbé and Mass to start.

  As always, Colette and I were early in the chapel. We liked to sit on one of the stone benches and chat a few moments before the Marquis and his wife entered and we needed to be silent and on good behavior.

  The chapel was a domed monstrosity—white and gold, with a large organ that was never played. There were six stone benches. Three on the left, and three on the right. Colette sat on the first bench on the right, the furthest from the door, which I made my way over to and sat beside her.

  “Oh, there you are,” she whispered, holding her ruby rosary in her hands.

  Shit, I thought.
I had forgotten mine in my room. Do I have time to run and get it?

  She smiled, holding out her hand and dropping the pink, beaded rosary into mine. “I knew you would forget it.”

  I smiled and sighed. I was thankful I didn’t have to risk being late for mass, which was something the Abbé would wring my neck for.

  “I saw Yolande and Stanzy out. Did you see Yolande’s face when I told her that Toulouse was a gift from Lucien?” She almost laughed, obviously unaware of my relief.

  I suddenly remembered that Lucien had his dinner engagement with her that evening, and my heart plummeting within me once more. I nodded, “Yes, I did.”

  “She was entirely vexed. So deliciously, I might add,” she turned toward the altar, running her rosary through her fingers with a wide smile of pure delight on her face.

  I swallowed hard, nodding. “Yes.”

  She turned to me. “I wonder why he is having a dinner engagement with her this evening. It seems out of character for him. At least, I thought he disliked those people, unless…” she stopped, gasping, “unless Yolande is the woman, the woman he is seeing.”

  “He wants to keep that secret, does he not?” I said. “I would assume that she would be on the same page as him and want to keep it secret as well. Why would Yolande make that so public?”

  She shrugged her shoulders. “Because in reality, she has no feelings for him. She just sees his title. He is a prize for her to win. Of course she would want the whole world to know she is with a Comte.”

  I shook my head, trying to ignore the pain in my chest, the anxiety of Lucien having a meal with those people! “I don’t think it is her. She would have said something sooner.”

  Colette frowned. “I suppose you are right.”

  We turned as the Marquis and his wife walked into the chapel, sitting down on two separate benches away from each other in a stony silence, as usual. The Abbé trailed in after them, his long, black robes billowing around him, clashing against the stark white collar and sleeves that poked out from it all.

  The Abbé was in his early thirties, with wavy, dark brown hair to his shoulders and a beard and mustache on his face. It made him look older, if not wiser, though he had a terrible temper. Especially when it came to us of the younger generation and the way we do things.

  Mass was long and boring, just as it usually was, but I tried to pay attention as best as I could and say all my prayers correctly. My father and I barely attended mass. Mainly because he was so often away. It was only when I stayed with Colette that I got a proper spiritual lesson.

  When mass ended, Colette and I stood up, trying to run out of the chapel before the Abbé could stop us to hear our confessions. I did not want to lie to a priest. We were surprisingly able to run out before the Marquis and his wife, skidding out into the foyer and giggling as we barreled toward the dining room and made our way out to the terrace.

  “Ahhh,” Colette sighed, standing in the sunlight. “Well, what an eventful morning this has been.”

  “Hmmm…oh, yes,” I rolled my eyes.

  “Did I see you before speaking with Cleante?” She turned to me, batting her eyes.

  I glared at her. “Yes. What of it?”

  She leaned against the stone railing. “What did you two speak of?”

  “Normal things, like what exactly the Marquise wanted built and when it would be completed. Then, he asked me what my father’s trade is and whether or not I am courting.”

  Her eyes widened, sparkling with delight. “Oh? Why would he ask such a thing?”

  “I don’t know.” I shook my head as I walked over to the table and chairs, taking my seat.

  “He doesn’t interest you?” she asked, looking to the ground.

  I shook my head. “He does not.”

  “Why?” She stepped forward.

  “Because…my heart is elsewhere,” I said, annoyed.

  “Oh?” Her brows raised. “Who?”

  I didn’t know how to answer. I started to stutter stupidly, shaking my head.

  “Not Lucien still!” she exclaimed, half-heartedly stomping her foot.

  “No. Well, I just…I would be lying if I said I did not have any feelings for him at all—”

  “So, that’s what that was this morning. You were truly upset that he is seeing Yolande this evening.” She stepped forward, sitting down to my right. “So, you still have affections for him?”

  I sighed heavily, unsure of what to say or how to word it. I was not going to lie to her…I already kept enough things from her. I nodded.

  “So, you still wish to pursue him?” she asked.

  I wanted to say “no” because after all, he was caught by me already. I had won my pursuit, but why was he going to Yolande’s!

  “What of the man who writes you from the country?”

  I sighed. “I just…I don’t know. Lucien…just catches my interest more.”

  “Well, why don’t you invite him over here?” She shrugged, as if it was a simple matter.

  “Perhaps I should. I will,” I said, swallowing hard. My head was starting to hurt.

  Colette frowned, looking down at her hands before she stood up again and walked toward the steps. “I am going to walk in the hedge maze to clear my thoughts.”

  I watched as she made her way down the steps and past the fountain, toward the workers who all stopped and admired her before she walked past them toward the maze.

  Sure to follow, I thought. Those words still echoed in my head. Was I not making my own way, now? Perhaps that was what the tension between Colette and me was about. I didn’t wish to follow her, anymore.

  Colette was in the salon, trying to figure out one of the many puzzles at the back of the Gazette as I somberly made my way to the servant’s entrance. It was eleven in the evening. It was not really late, especially by Colette’s standards, but she refused to go to sleep until she solved it, which was a fantastic distraction for Lucien and I.

  I stood at the doorway, looking about until Lucien came up behind me, kissing my neck, which for the first time I shrugged away.

  “What’s wrong?” His brow furrowed as he whispered.

  “Nothing.” I shook my head. “We must make our way upstairs, and I am unsure how long Colette will be preoccupied.”

  I shrugged my shoulders again as we made our way up the staircase hurriedly, dashing into my bedchamber, closing the door, and locking it. I turned toward Lucien who stood in the middle of the room, taking off his informal, powder blue justaucorps and tossing it on the bed. He looked me over, his brow raised on his head, as if I was some sort of imposter. This annoyed me further, causing me to walk past him and toward the window.

  “You seem vexed. What has happened?” he asked, walking toward me.

  I shook my head, crossing my arms and pacing back and forth. “It is nothing.”

  He scoffed. “That is a load of shit, Madeleine. What is going on? Have I offended you in some way?”

  I turned to him, looking him in the eye. “Who did you have your dinner engagement with?”

  His brow furrowed in confusion, but he didn’t hesitate to answer. “Yolande Beaumont.”

  “Oh, but I know!” I said, turning away from him and beginning to pace, again.

  “What, pray tell, is the matter with that?” He looked to me, crossing his arms, still confused as ever.

  I stopped my pacing and turned to him. “You know what! Of all people! Why didn’t you tell me it was with her?”

  His eyes widened with shock, shaking his head. “You didn’t ask! If you had, I would have gladly told you. I have no secrets from you. None at all.”

  “Why then did you have such an engagement with her?” I asked, crossing my arms once again. I knew I was being ridiculous. It was true that if I had asked him whom the dinner engagement was with, he would have gladly told me.

  “She invited me to do so! Madeleine, what has gotten into you? I made my appearances, which are required of me!”

  I shook my head, tu
rning my back to him and muttering to myself. “You don’t know them, what they say. They have a plan.”

  He turned and sat on the end of my bed, pinching the bridge of his nose between his forefinger and thumb. “I am quite aware, Madeleine, what they are up to. It does not change anything, nor will it ever.”

  I shook my head, again. My jaw clenched painfully as a lump formed in my throat. Black, hot tears formed in my eyes and steamed to escape. I fought a sob as best I could, my whole body thrusting forward slightly in doing so.

  He stood up, putting his hands on my shoulders. “Madeleine? Are you—are you crying?”

  I shook my head, trying to pull myself away from him, and keeping my back to him as he grabbed my shoulder and turned me toward him.

  “You are! You are crying.” He started to almost panic, his hands on my shoulders tightly as he looked me in the eye. The tears constantly flowed down my face as I tried not to speak, for fear of sobbing uncontrollably and attracting attention from the whole house. “Don’t cry. What did I tell you before? That is heartbreaking! You cannot, you are not allowed to cry.”

  I smiled faintly as a sob stiffened in my throat and a fresh wave of tears flew down my face.

  He put his hands on either side of my face, raising it up so he could look into my eyes. “I went there to make an appearance. It was not an intimate event. She had several other people there. Men as well as women.”

  “You don’t know their horrid game.” I almost stomped my foot, just as Colette would do in such a situation.

  He nodded. “Oh, but I do, my love. I give you my word, with everything in me, I was there to make an appearance. Remember how we had decided that it was the best way for us to continue, undetected?”

  I nodded, my tears starting to feel stale on my face, cool where the air hit them. Though, my sobs were still trying to fight through.

  “I am yours, only yours.” He let his forehead rest against mine, looking into my eyes deeply. It was the only way that he knew how to keep my attention during this temper tantrum. “How do you think I feel about you being here all day with that architect who has feelings for you?”