by Damian Serbu
The nurses pushed him out of the room, and he fell into a chair, broken, his hands limp at his sides.
Then Catherine heard the baby. She recalled vividly, the memory burned into her young mind. A baby was crying.
The nurse brought the small bundle into the room. “Monsieur, he needs you,” she said to their father. “More than before, this baby will need you. Take him.” She thrust the child into his arms and retreated to the birthing room.
Tears streamed down his face as he clutched the babe in his arms. Michel sat at attention in the corner, bewildered. Not Catherine. She had had enough and slid off the sofa, going toward her father. She crept up to him and glanced at the baby.
“Papa? Who is it?”
Her father, despondent, gathered his senses and looked at her. In retrospect, she realized that at that moment he accepted the responsibility of caring for these three children on his own. He smiled through his tears and held her hand. “This is Xavier, darling. Michel, come here and meet your brother.” Michel had plodded across the room and gazed at the baby. With one arm holding the baby, their father embraced his other two children in a hug and resumed crying. And then he told them that their mother had not survived.
Catherine’s eyes misted as she thought about the soft-spoken woman who had raised her with love and devotion. She still missed her. But, if God took her away, He had left a perfect replacement in Xavier. Michel, her father, and she had embraced the new baby as the reincarnation of their mother and silently vowed to raise him as she would have, with patience, love, and reverence.
Catherine wiped at her tears.
“I’m sorry.” Xavier hugged her and the warmth of his embrace eased her pain.
“It’s a pity, that your birthday is also that day. We tried to give you all of the attention, but—”
“And you all did a marvelous job. I didn’t know the meaning of this day for a long time, not until I could comprehend what it meant without guilt. I didn’t mean to be flippant before. I just never knew her.”
“Oh, this is silly,” Catherine said. “I know that, and you needn’t worry. If you don’t mind, let’s talk about something else. I can revel in the misery by myself later, when you go see your friend.” She could not resist teasing, and Xavier smiled, as if he wanted to speak further on the subject but a heavy footstep across the hall startled them. Catherine recognized the cadence and leapt to her feet as a man appeared in the doorway.
“Michel!” She ran across the room into his arms, his frame solid like a rock against her. “My, don’t you cut a dashing figure in the king’s uniform?”
“I’ve missed you,” Michel said with a laugh. He turned and his expression lighted up. “And Xavier. What a pleasant surprise.” They embraced and kissed each other on the cheek and Catherine felt, for a moment, that the love between all of them eased the pain she still carried for her mother, despite the longstanding tension between her and Michel. She loved him, but hoped he had not arrived on yet another mission to attempt to control her.
“Are you in Paris because of the revolts?” Xavier asked.
“No, I came on other business. But I see that the rioting persists in our fair city,” Michel said, clapping his brother on the shoulder and motioning for them all to sit down. Catherine waited for them to sit, then stood before them to ensure that her brother knew he could not command her to sit like a dog.
“Well, they’re starving,” Catherine intoned. “What do you expect them to do? And how they talk about the king. Even worse, they absolutely despise Mademoiselle Antoinette. I’ve no idea if what they say is true, but they claim she spends extravagantly while the people can’t feed their own children.”
“I think you had best watch yourself,” Michel said in a tone reminiscent of their father. “Louis won’t sit idly as the masses ruin his country.” He sounded every bit like a lieutenant in the royal army.
“Well, Louis had best not wait too long, or there’ll be more blood on his hands,” she retorted.
“That’s treason, Catherine. Stay away from thinking such nonsense.”
“Oh, Michel, I swear. If you watched things as we do, you’d see that something is going to change. Things won’t last long in their current state.”
“Do you mean to tell me that you watch this rebellion?” He scowled. “Do you participate?”
“How can I not watch? It happens right outside my door. What do you expect? I won’t crawl into some hole while the world destroys itself. What if I can do something to help?”
“Help?” He scoffed. “Help the riffraff that threatens your country? Help the peasants who vow to overthrow their king? Listen to yourself. You sound insane.”
“That’s enough on this matter,” Xavier finally said. “The two of you will never agree, so can we stop it?”
Catherine turned her attention from Michel and saw the pained expression on Xavier’s face. He so hated it when Michel and she bickered, which they did more and more since their father died. For Xavier’s sake, she stopped herself before she launched into another tirade against Michel’s reverence for the monarchy.
“I apologize,” Michel said, though grudgingly.
“As do I,” Catherine stated, hoping she at least sounded sincere. “So. Michel,” Catherine continued, “what has brought you here?”
“You did.” He waggled his finger at Catherine. “I have wonderful news.”
Something in his tone unnerved her and she sat down, twitching her leg nervously as Xavier placed his hand on her knee to calm her. “Well, what is it?” she asked through clenched teeth.
“I’ve betrothed you,” Michel announced, a hint of triumph in his tone.
Catherine’s face burned red. “You did what? You have no power over me. You can’t order me to marry.” She stood then, rage swelling in her throat. Xavier and Michel both jumped up in response to her. “You wander around Europe with that damn army while I maintain everything important to this family. Then you come parading back with an announcement about my future? How dare you.”
“Catherine, listen to me,” he said, trying to placate her, but she stormed out of the room, cursing as she left.
“No man—brother or husband—will command me.”
Xavier: Defiance
24 May 1789 Afternoon
XAVIER STOOD DUMBFOUNDED. Had Michel not learned anything after all these years with Catherine? Betrothed? Without her knowledge? And where did she go? Catherine was too headstrong, and Michel too lost in his role as family patriarch.
“Did you see that?” Michel asked, staring at the doorway.
“What did you expect?”
“I knew she’d resist. But she didn’t hear me out. She didn’t listen.” He turned back to Xavier.
“Open your eyes. You’ll never command Catherine like one of your soldiers. She makes her own decisions. Let her decide for herself.”
“And listen to everyone criticize the family? How can I allow the defamation of the Saint-Laurent name? Father entrusted me with upholding it.”
“No, Michel, society gave you that responsibility. Father taught you to obey when it served the right purposes and to disregard tradition when necessary. Perhaps this is a time—”
“You think this only concerns making decisions for her and what the outside world thinks? What about her safety? What about her security? She rants about maintaining the family wealth and homestead. Yet if something happened to both of us, the only males in this family, what do you think the government would do to her? Do you think they’d look the other way and allow a woman to control such a vast economic empire? Men control the world, and Catherine needs to remember that.” He stood, hands on his hips, as if daring Xavier to argue with him.
Xavier remained calm. He had heard this argument a million times and cared nothing for others’ expectations regarding his sister. Catherine loved her life and managed her affairs splendidly. “Regardless of how you worry about her, it won’t help to defy her. I know you want the best for her, but
you drive her away.”
“It’s more complicated this time.”
“How so?” Xavier prodded.
Michel stopped and looked at him again. “The other individual involved. This will hurt him terribly.”
“Who is it?”
“Jérémie Metcalfe.”
Xavier gasped. “How could you put such an old family friend in such a position? He’s like a brother to us, and you do this to him? I had no idea he had feelings for Catherine.”
“Nor does she.”
Xavier rubbed his temples. “How did this come about?”
“He passed through a port where I was stationed a month ago. We had dinner, and naturally we asked about our respective families. I told him how I worried about Catherine. Before I said much, he blurted out a confession that he loved her and wanted to marry her. I was ecstatic. I thought she would love him as well. I thought this would truly make her happy. Lord knows she’ll never see it my way, but I did it for her. He asked permission to marry her and I granted it. So, we planned to meet here in Paris today to tell her.” Michel sighed, forlorn. “I thought she guessed. Jérémie told me he visits often.” He looked at Xavier then, intent. “I must swear you to secrecy. I promised Jérémie not to tell a soul until she responded. He didn’t want to face public humiliation if she rejected him.”
“But she did no such thing,” Xavier corrected. “She rejected you.”
“I know, but Jérémie won’t see it that way. Give me time. He’ll be here soon. I asked him to follow shortly behind me. Swear to me, Xavier. Hurry.”
“You invited him here? Michel, what were you thinking?”
“Dammit, there’s no time for this. Swear to me.”
Xavier stared at him, torn between his siblings. But it was too late now to think further about the matter. “Of course,” he answered as a servant announced Jérémie. With his heart pounding, Xavier greeted their old friend. He wanted to go to Catherine and tell her the truth, but his damned controlling brother had forbade it, and Xavier could never betray an oath.
“Jérémie,” Michel greeted him. “Come in. We need to talk.”
Xavier nodded politely at him, noting that Jérémie was indeed a handsome fellow with his soft white skin, height, and green eyes. He greeted Xavier politely as he followed Michel out of the room.
Footsteps in the hall startled Xavier and kept him from following. He turned to see his sister, always beautiful in her flowing dresses and blonde hair even when scowling, as she stormed down the hall.
“Is he still here?” she asked imperiously.
“Yes. Jérémie as well.”
Catherine’s eyes narrowed. “Come with me.” She pulled him into the library and ushered him to a seat, then leaned against the desk piled with letters and papers.
“Can you believe him? You must help me.”
Xavier dreaded involvement in this fight but hated to see Catherine so distressed. Michel and Jérémie could fend for themselves, but Catherine needed him despite her obstinate independence.
“I know he upset you, and you have every right to feel angry. But listen to him. Give him a chance.”
“I won’t tolerate a monarch in this house. France prepares to throw out the king and yet I suffer one here. It’s not fair. I won’t abide by his every wish.”
“But you told me that you want to marry someday. At least listen to what he has to say.”
“I do want to marry. I want love, but I want to choose my partner.”
Someone knocked on the door. “Catherine? Xavier?” Jérémie timidly entered, obviously distressed. “Michel has left.”
“Good.” Catherine said.
Jérémie came in hesitantly, smiled at Xavier, but never looked at Catherine.
“Jérémie, I missed you today,” Catherine said. She sighed. “At least you don’t have a brother telling you what to do. Can you believe him?”
Xavier cleared his throat. “I’m sure that Jérémie doesn’t want to hear about our personal problems.”
“I don’t mind.” Jérémie offered a smile. “I understand Catherine’s concern. It must be difficult.”
Catherine pushed herself away from the desk and rushed to Jérémie and kissed him on the cheek. “Why can’t you be my eldest brother? You’re the most charming man. You understand me perfectly. I can’t tie myself to someone who dictates my life, where I go, what I do. Especially a brother who runs around in the army fighting people while I lead my own life in Paris. He probably picked some authoritarian general who would want to push me around, forcing me to become pregnant and hide inside for days on end.”
“I’m sure that the gentleman meant well,” Jérémie said.
“Well, if someone wants to marry me, he had better tell me about it. I’ll choose someone in my own time, but not a coward who runs to my brother. Can you imagine?”
“Perhaps the gentleman was concerned with decorum,” Xavier said. “I’m sure he meant the best.”
Jérémie flashed Xavier a surprised glance. To Catherine, he said, “I have to leave. I apologize, but I’m expected elsewhere.” He bowed and left.
“Jérémie acted strangely, didn’t he?” Catherine asked. “He came yesterday to see me, on the pretense of business, but simply chatted for a while, like the typical jovial Jérémie. He seems absolutely morose today.”
“Just be patient,” Xavier hinted.
“You’re strange. Now don’t think that I’m chasing you away, but aren’t you here a little late today? You usually bolt away to see your new friend.”
Xavier blushed. Catherine perceived too much.
Xavier: The Would-Be Bishop
24 May 1789 Evening
XAVIER HASTENED THROUGH the streets, only quickly greeting the people with whom he usually stopped to converse. Michel’s return, the news about Jérémie, and Catherine’s reaction kept him at the house longer than he had anticipated.
“You seem distressed.”
Xavier jumped when he heard Thomas’s voice. “You scared me.”
“I see that, but your brow is creased with worry. Should I go?”
“No. Please, stay.” Xavier wanted nothing more than to lose himself with Thomas. Without prompting, he launched into the entire tale, surprising himself with the ease of conversation as Thomas listened politely. Instead of continuing toward the church, they walked around Paris, Xavier overhearing a few people angrily discussing the Estates General, but most quietly went about their business. It was completely dark by the time Xavier stopped talking.
“It sounds as if you feel too much responsibility for them,” Thomas said and put his hand on Xavier’s back. The masculine touch sent chills through Xavier.
“Can we talk about something else?” Xavier had had enough of the Saint-Laurents.
“Did I offend you?”
“No, I just need to forget about it for a while.”
Thomas turned Xavier down a quiet, abandoned street as he kept his hand on Xavier’s back, and Xavier loved how Thomas commanded without smothering.
“This is the first time you’ve said much about your family history,” Thomas said. “You told me about your sister and brother, even your parents. But I take it from this failed betrothal and the allusions to Catherine’s managing a fortune that you come from a great deal of money?”
“Yes,” Xavier said with a trace of irritation. He hated talking about their wealth.
“It’s nothing to be ashamed of.”
“I didn’t mean it that way. You obviously have money, too.”
Thomas laughed. “Stop worrying about offending me. I asked only because it makes you more intriguing.”
“What do you mean?”
“I assumed when we met that you were poor. You serve a small parish in a rather nasty part of Paris as a common curé. I don’t think that many people who come from the nobility receive such assignments. How wealthy are you?”
“I’ve no idea. Catherine handles all of that. I just know it’s extensive.”
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Thomas stopped and held Xavier’s shoulders. His eyes burned into Xavier’s soul. “You’re beautiful.”
Xavier squirmed. He looked away from Thomas’s piercing brown eyes, but Thomas grabbed his head and forced them to look at each other. “Xavier, why do you serve in this filth? Your family must have connections within the church.”
Xavier turned his head and looked at the ground as he slowly pulled away. Though he wanted to tell Thomas about his religious philosophy, the sexual tension between them was too great. He resumed their walk.
“It’s not about power,” Xavier said. “I grew up with that, and my family has served the monarchy for generations. Becoming a bishop would be easy, based on those connections. I suppose it sounds ludicrous, but I prefer my small church with the common people. I could send Michel a letter tomorrow and move to a new location overnight, but I can’t imagine serving the wealthy and listening to them practice their faith once a week, while the other six days they disregard the humanity around them for their own gain.”
“But doesn’t it bother you, the poor condition of your church and the lack of food? Why do you grow vegetables when other clergy eat four-course meals every day?”
“Because that’s real life. I don’t do it as some form of penance. I eat with Catherine most nights, anyway. I know it sounds preposterous. Michel tells me so all of the time.”
Thomas stopped when they reached the Bastille’s edges, the dark structure that housed so many of Paris’s criminals. Xavier glanced at it, wondering how many people truly belonged in its confines. Its shadow loomed as Thomas stared at Xavier. Passionate feelings of lust, infatuation, and fear flooded through Xavier’s head.