Affaire de Coeur

by Stephanie O’Hanlon

  “Marry? You really gave thought to marrying the Monsieur?” He looked to me confused, his brow furrowing.

  I nodded. “I did, but as you said. It is for the best.”

  “Hmmm.” He looked me over, his eyes scanning my gown and back up to my eyes. “I see.”

  “I think I am going to go to bed, now. I feel a little weak, again,” I said, putting my hand to my forehead.

  “Well, I will make arrangements for the hiring of a maid for you. I like you in those gowns. Such a pretty sight around these sorry surroundings. We will speak of my travels and what I have brought you at supper.” He kissed my forehead again and pointed toward the staircase.

  I nodded as he walked past me toward the door, going out to the carriage.

  I blinked my tears away, looking around the clean, bright, and spacious room. It was a much different look compared to the hameau house of Lily’s or the Du Lorme’s sparkling palace. It was something rather in between.

  I walked to the square-shaped staircase and up the steps, making my way to my bedchamber, which was a plain, white room. It had wooden accents on all the furniture and walls. I looked around, biting my lip as I looked at the bed.

  “Excuse me, Mademoiselle.”

  I turned, my father’s valet stood in the doorway. A very young man, younger than I, held a letter in his hand.

  “This came for you. Your father asked me to see it to you.” He walked to me, handing me the letter.

  “Thank you,” I said, looking down at it.

  Who was it from? Everything in me screamed that it was from Lucien, it had to be, and there wasn’t anything in me that didn’t want it to be. My hands shook as I turned the letter over, looking for the seal. It was neither the one that Lucien used normally nor his pseudonym.

  I opened it, looking to the bottom of the page. My heart calmed as I saw Colette’s name scribbled at the bottom of the page.

  Friday, the 24 of August, 1770

  Maddy,

  You have not taken the time to write me, lately. I can understand that with everything that has gone on, but I decided that I shall take it upon myself to write you.

  I know that things seem quite bad right now…or do they? I am not aware if you are feeling any better, physically that is, but I hope that you are. I know that Grandma-ma has her ways. She can heal just about anyone.

  But, my point was going to be that things will get better. I know, everyone always says that, especially about first loves, but look at me—I love Armand.

  There, I said it. Or…wrote it, rather.

  I love him ridiculously. I flirted shamelessly, yes. I love him, and I cannot stop thinking about him, even though I know that I bungled it.

  He is not my first love, Maddy, Vachel was. I know what you are thinking. Was I in love with Étienne? The answer is no. I never really cared about him. He was just another face in the crowd. To tell you the truth, when we were together, I do not even think I was very much attracted to him at all! I know this, because I didn’t have the same emotional attraction that I had toward Armand. That flirting that you liked to point out so often.

  In fact, I was actually quite insecure around Étienne. What does that say?

  I received an answer to one of my letters to Armand the other day. Do not rejoice just yet. He is still angry with me, but at least the silence is broken. I would rather him talk to me than keep such a terrible silence.

  I know you do not want to hear this, but there will be someone else, if not Lucien himself. Do you really think he doesn’t think about you? Doesn’t have you in his thoughts at this very moment? I bet he does, and you know me! I love to gamble, especially when I am in favor of winning.

  He knows that he made an error in judgment, but not the error that you think. He is a fool, and he knows it.

  Well, I shall fill you in on what the goings on are.

  Firstly, Constanze is wild about meeting for tea—something that I keep avoiding. I keep saying that my schedule is full. I know she just wishes to speak of you and your circumstances, and I do not want to give her the satisfaction of it.

  I spend most of my time with Rose, who is now romancing an American. I believe he is soldier. She goes on and on about his uniform, and more of how she loves to take it off of him!

  I do not entertain any gentlemen at present, though I have been trying to be active in the social scene. I’ve been getting quite a few invites from various old friends and new friends, such as Philippe, who probably just wants me to get him in Rose’s sights, again.

  Lucien does not attend events, anymore. In one of Armand’s letters, he told me that Lucien said he has no reason to attend, anymore. I know what you are thinking, that he is off about having a grand time, but don’t you think that he is just as miserable without you as you are without him?

  This is why I am certain that things will straighten out. It will just take time.

  Anyway, I must dash off. Much to do!

  I love you,

  Colette.

  I swallowed a sob in my throat. My tears nearly overflowed as I folded the letter up.

  Don’t you think that he is just as miserable without you as you are without him?

  The words echoed in my head…no, I didn’t. I knew that he was angry with me. He didn’t want me, anymore. I was one of them.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  I sat out in the garden, out in the September sun. Yes, September—the month that was neither summer nor autumn. Something in between that had warm days with cool breezes and the occasional cloud that softly floated its way across the sky.

  I sat in my stark white, silk robe à l’Anglaise my father brought back for me, my hair loose around me. The perfume of the wind and flowers that were about blew through it, making everything feel and smell fresh.

  It was the second week in September. My father had been home for three weeks. Three glorious weeks of relaxation, good food, and picnics. He even put off his business to spend time with me. Aside from today, that is. He had been called away just after our morning meal, making away with his subordinate. An urgent meeting had been called.

  Of course, I looked down to the linen I was sitting on and thought of Lucien and how much I wished he were there. The pain wasn’t as bad as it was before. I was no longer physically ill. It had passed the first week my father was home. My head was clear, and I was dealing with my grief as gracefully as I could.

  Some days, I wanted to stay in bed all day, though my father would not allow such a thing. I was to run about, to frolic, just as I did before he left. He had to know of my pain. It was similar to his when my mother died. We lost the one that we loved.

  I did as Lily had said, though. I was not going to give up. I wasn’t going to lie and say there wasn’t a little hope inside of me that thought perhaps Colette in all her letters was right. He would turn around, and things would go back to the way they were. That was silly, though. Wasn’t it? Things could never go back to the way they were. They needed to change just as things had already changed.

  I received a few notes from Rose, but nothing at length like the letters I got from Colette. Sometimes, the courier made two or three trips to the Du Lorme estate and back. He was under my father’s charge, so he welcomed the extra work while things were slow.

  I looked up as my father’s carriage pulled up to the house. His slim form stepped out and walked down the path and up to me, standing before me.

  “Is everything all right?” I asked him.

  “Ummm, yes. Uh, come inside. I have something I want to talk to you about,” he said while pointing to the house.

  I nodded, getting up, and brushing my gown off as I grabbed the linen from the ground. I walked behind him as we entered the house.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Oh, nothing. I just had a little talk with Frances.” He crossed his arms, stretching his neck out.

  His subordinate’s name rang in my head—a foreign thing, as my father never wished to mix his family life too much
with his business if he could truly help it. “Oh?”

  “He made it quite plain that he would like to court you. He asked my permission to do so.”

  My whole body froze. “What?”

  “He is a good man, only a few years older than you. I like this match. I think it would be good for you,” he said, his mustache wiggling lightly.

  “I hardly know him. I barely know of him.” I was almost speechless. I couldn’t form words properly or even understand what this all truly meant.

  “Well, that is why I turned down an outright proposal. I figure it will give you two a chance to get to know each other, but of course, marriage is going to be a factor. As I said, I like this match,” he said as he turned and leaned against the dining room table.

  “You have said that twice. What? You like this match better than what?”

  He eyed me, crossing his arms, again. “You know what, Madeleine.”

  “Better than Lucien?” I said, tears filling my eyes. “You did not know Lucien. You do not know him. I don’t understand why that match would offend you so. He is a Comte for Christ’s sake!”

  “You would have been taken to that city of debauchery. Look what happened when you were there for only three months. You were so ill, you could have possibly died!” He pointed in the direction of Paris, toward the door of the house.

  I shook my head. “I was fine until—”

  “Until things turned. Now, you are out of that dreamland, Madeleine. You are back to reality, and this is the reality. Your age is already a problem, largely due to my absence. This is a good match, and you will be well taken care of.”

  “Dreamland? You think that I imagined what happened, what went on? How I felt, and when I felt it? To be taken care of, the man is going to take over your business! So, I will be sitting here, just as alone. I will have children no doubt, as that’s something you also expect of me!” I shouted, my head beginning to throb.

  “Madeleine, you cannot sit around here and dream away, hoping that man will come back, that he will miraculously realize he made a mistake and come rescue you—”

  “What gives you the right to speak of him that way?” I sobbed loudly, my tears nearly choking me. “You know nothing of what went on here, and I will tell you now that I will die a thousand deaths before I marry Frances or anyone else you wish me to marry!”

  “Madeleine!” his voice boomed. “You will do as I say, because I say it. I know what is best for you! What good that man did you. Look at you! Insolent and raising your voice to your own father!”

  “I will do it again and again! Do you really think that I will be happy with that man?”

  He took a breath, calming himself and stepping toward me. “Madeleine, happiness is something your mind is not open to at this present time. You wish to wallow in your grief. As he was your first love, I can understand that. In the long run, a match with Frances will bring you happiness. You will see.”

  Black, hot tears of anger poured down my face. “Nothing but Lucien will ever bring me any happiness.” My lips trembled as I turned from him. I dashed up the stairs. His heavy footsteps followed, even as I ran into my bedchamber and slammed the door shut, quickly grabbing the key off my highboy and locking the door.

  “Madeleine, let me in this instant!”

  I sat against the door, a hard sob rocking my body as my face fell into my hands. I slid down the door, which was shaking beneath my father’s fist on the other side.

  First the architect, and now the subordinate. Everyone wanted me to marry someone, and no one cared for the man I wanted to marry!

  I looked up, wiping my eyes.

  “Madeleine,” my father said calmly.

  I shook my head, my heart aching for Lucien. I looked over to my window, imagining him crawling through it. I almost smiled thinking of it, but my father’s voice interrupted my thoughts.

  “Maddy, I am sorry. I know how much he meant to you. I just…I’m trying to think of safer alternatives for you, ways to stop things like this from happening.”

  I bit my lip as tears slipped down my face once more.

  You cannot prevent heartbreak.

  “Please, open the door?”

  I licked my teeth, standing up. I unlocked the door and opened it a crack, looking through it at him.

  He looked down at me, through the space in the door. “Is it something you will consider, or is it a subject that we will never raise, again?”

  “Which? The subject of marrying Frances or of Lucien?” I sniffed, wiping my cheek.

  He smiled lightly. “Either. Or both.”

  “Both,” I nodded, wiping my other cheek.

  He pushed the door open, holding his arms out to me, which I walked into, holding him close. The familiar smell of tobacco and his cologne mixed together comfortingly.

  The next two days I fell ill again, though it was mainly due to emotional exhaustion. After the heated argument with my father, he held me and let me sob into him, weeping until I fell asleep.

  I sat in my bed in my nightgown, reading and taking it easy. I looked up to my father standing in the doorway with a cup of tea.

  “I thought you could use this.” He walked over to me, handing it to me as he sat down beside me.

  I smiled. “Thank you.”

  “I am going to be on my way to a meeting. I plan on telling Frances that there is a change in plans and that your future is yet to be determined,” he said, stroking my hair off my shoulder.

  I felt a pain in my stomach as I thought about how Lucien used to do the very same. I knew I was never going to get past the relationship if I thought about it so much. I faked a smile, nodding. “Thank you. I apologize for raising my voice to you. It was disrespectful, Pa-pa.”

  He shook his head. “No, no. You had every right to. I should have consulted you on such a matter.”

  I sighed. “All right, we are both at fault. I say we do not speak of the matter, anymore.”

  He smiled beneath his mustache. “All right. Well, I am going to be off, now. I thought, though, that I would leave you with some company.”

  Colette walked into my darkened room, smiling at me in her dark green silk robe à la Française, which shimmered in the light, an échelle of black bows on the bodice, and black lace sticking out from her sleeves.

  “Colette,” I sat up in bed more, stroking my hair out of my face.

  My father stood up, smiling. “I think she is very capable of watching over you. I will try to be back as soon as I can.”

  He bent down to me, kissing my cheek. He then turned and smiled at Colette as he left the room.

  I smiled at Colette, my friend who I had not seen in almost a month.

  “How are you?” She stepped forward, folding her hands in front of her.

  I nodded. “I am feeling much better. Well, physically at least.”

  She looked me over. “Then, why are you in your nightgown at six in the evening?”

  I looked down, setting my book aside. “Today is a bad day.”

  “My grandmother wrote to me of those days.” She walked to the end of the bed, sitting on it. “I have not been in this room since we were little girls.”

  I smiled. “Well, I see it every day.”

  She looked at me, smiling back. “Are you enjoying your time with your Pa-pa?”

  “The time that I get, yes.”

  “Does he know of Lucien, of what happened?” she asked, her voice lowering as if he would hear.

  I nodded. “I had written to him the day before everything came out, but I didn’t inform him of things coming undone until he was home. He tries to be sympathetic, though he is secretly happy. It frightened him, the thought of his daughter with a Comte. He tried to marry me off to his subordinate.”

  She let out a little laugh. “Everyone seems to want you to be married to someone, don’t they?”

  I nodded, smiling lightly. “I thought the very same. No one seems to wish to know my input on the matter, though.”

&nb
sp; She smiled, looking down at the bed linens. “Does he know that you were…that you gave him your virtue?” she asked timidly.

  I nodded. “Probably. That may be why he dislikes even the thought of Lucien, but he is trying to be more sympathetic to me, now that he knows how much…how badly I am taking things.”

  “Hmmm. I came here for a reason,” she said, turning to me. She scooted down on the bed toward me.

  “Oh?” I said, unsure. Bad news? Might as well be. I already feel terrible.

  “I saw Lucien, and I have spoken with him,” she said blatantly, looking me in the eyes.

  “You…ow.” I breathed heavily, panting from the pain in my chest.

  “Are you all right?” She grabbed my hand.

  I nodded. “I’m…is he…How is he?”

  She leaned toward me, a little smile on her lips. “He challenged Cognet to a duel!”

  I looked at her, my eyes wide with shock. “Did he kill him? Was he hurt?”

  I was ready to jump up and run to find him, but she put out her hands, pushing me back down on the bed.

  She smiled. “He’s fine, he’s fine. In fact, Lucien dropped his sword and pummeled him.”

  “He what?” I sat back, even more shocked than before.

  She nodded. “It started out normally enough. As I hear it, Lucien was going to win. Obviously, he has trained with some of the best swordsmen. Cognet lost his wits and started to plead with him. I do not know the exact words, but whatever it was, it angered Lucien. He threw his sword down, ran forward, and started hitting him. Cognet’s feet went flying right over his head!” She laughed, clasping her hands together in delight.

  I smiled, looking at my hands. “Why did he challenge him?”

  Her green eyes met with mine—not looking tired as I had last seen her, but healthy and young. She had picked up a little sun the last few weeks since I saw her. Her skin was golden and her eyes seductive, seemingly seducing me into seeing the truth. “I think it obvious, Maddy.”

  I shook my head. “No. I will not let myself think such things.”

  “Why not?”

  “It would be too good to be true. I have too many times let myself think that if I just wrote to him or asked to see him that things would somehow just…align and make it right, but I know it is impossible.” I looked up to her, my eyes filling with tears as I sobbed. “I just want the pain to go away. I do not want to feel like this, anymore.”