by Damian Serbu
They fell silent as the pain flooded back. Xavier admired Catherine’s resilience, that she had maintained her salon even after Michel’s death and his own disappearance. She brushed it aside, crediting Jérémie and Maria, but Xavier knew that it had been all Catherine.
“Well,” Catherine said, “I’d rather save that misery for another day. I’m more interested in having you back.”
Xavier smiled and wiped away a tear.
“You can’t imagine how much I went over this moment in my head. It took nearly all of my willpower not to give you up for dead. Why, Thomas—” Catherine stopped mid-sentence. The awkward moment only became worse because Xavier was at a loss. Why had she not continued with her thought? Should he admit his love for Thomas? Did she already know? Was he even ready to talk about it? “Thomas looked just as earnestly as did I,” she finished.
Xavier wanted to run to Thomas and avoid him at the same time. Leave it to Catherine to make him confront this beast so soon.
“There’s one thing that I know Anne and you never broached,” Catherine continued. “Since you were born and until you left, you had lived this idealistic life as a model citizen and trusting priest.”
“We were all raised that way.”
“Yes, but Michel and I didn’t take it to heart. I’m not criticizing you. Father, Michel, and I sheltered you too much. You heard the lessons about helping everyone, but we refused to let you know about the more troubling aspects of this world. We all wanted to protect you. You were our little baby, and I’m afraid that it hurt you more than it helped, because all of us hit moments when we realized that our ideals can go only so far. But you had farther to fall when you discovered reality.”
Catherine had come across the room and held Xavier’s hand. She brushed Xavier’s hair out of his eyes. He found himself fidgeting with the buttons on his shirt and felt the cross underneath. He had no idea what to say. His mind vacillated between defending himself and knowing that she was right.
“Being a woman has always grounded me in reality. Father raised me as a boy, but the rest of the world only sees my breasts.”
Xavier chuckled.
“It’s true. And Michel, he felt so much pressure after Father died. Even before, he saw things in the military that balanced his perceptions. You were naturally a free spirit, even without the way that we treated you. You loved so intensely. And we sheltered you, fearing that the corrupted world would ruin our little angel.”
“I experienced more hurt than you think.”
Catherine grabbed his head and pulled him toward her.
“I know, I know. I only meant that all of this somehow made you keep it inside. It made the lessons harder because you were afraid to come to anyone and feared how we would react.”
Even this evening, he fretted about telling Catherine he was leaving the church despite knowing that it would make her happy. And a million times they mentioned that he had no sexual attraction to women, and yet they still never spoke directly about it. Not because of her, because of him.
“You’re right,” Xavier said finally. “I struggle with my identity.”
“So change. Be the person that you want to be. The world around you is changing forever. There’s nothing static in France anymore. The revolution has gotten out of hand, but the idea of transformation is positive, and you could do the same for yourself. You can still help people as you indulge in your passions.”
“I know. Anne and I talked about it. In my mind, all this makes sense and I want to do it. But I can’t change in one night. It’s easy for you. You’ve always balanced obligation and personal desire. I end up feeling guilty. I’ll embarrass myself.”
“What’s embarrassing about your life?”
“Catherine, not everyone approves.”
“Will you at least try to be comfortable saying it to me? You love other men—you’re attracted to the same sex. How does it embarrass you to say it to me? It makes no difference. Even Michel told you to follow your dreams. Say it, Xavier, admit it to me.”
The room fell silent. What did she want him to say? How could he put into words what society for centuries worked so diligently to conceal?
“I’ve come to terms with it,” he said after a long moment.
“Then talk about it.”
“You know that life that you detest? The idea that, because you’re a woman you should marry and hide behind a protector the rest of your life? It sounds positively spectacular to me. I can’t think of anything better than the thought of lying in another man’s arms and having him protect me. That’s it, Catherine. I want to spend my life with another man. When I was with Thomas, I pretended that we had such a relationship, and during our long nights together he often did protect me. He nurtured my dreams and indulged my every whim. It was wonderful, but something didn’t allow me to take the next step, though he wanted to. The thought of kissing him or a simple touch, it was magnificent and terrible at the same time. Terrible because I thought it was wrong. I wish I could recapture the moment and respond differently.”
“Thomas told me about your relationship. I know more than I should, but if your heart tells you that you can forgive him, maybe you should.”
Xavier smiled. Of course Thomas had confessed. It was so Thomas to purge the guilt. Strangely, Xavier had almost forgotten that episode.
“He’d protect you, despite what happened. He loves you.”
“Just give me some time. Let me be at home a while before I take this step.”
“Anything you need.” Catherine yawned.
“We’d better get some sleep,” Xavier said sympathetically. After all, she’d been up most of the night, talking first under a bridge on the other side of the city.
The emotion had drained them, and Xavier could not wait to fall into a real bed for the first time in months. They reached the stairs when Catherine paused. She stopped and turned but said nothing.
“What?” he asked.
“About Thomas. You said that you can handle all of the change and everything going on?”
“Yes.”
“Can you accept other things, things that you never dreamed existed?”
“What are you talking about?” Xavier asked.
“Nothing. Never mind. Just be open.” And with that, she headed to her room, leaving him to puzzle after her.
Catherine: Potion
9 June 1793
CATHERINE RUSHED TO get ready after realizing that she was supposed to meet Anne. She had received a note that morning, requesting a meeting away from the house and in public, so Catherine assumed that it had to do with Xavier.
Catherine arrived at a small café in her carriage, where Anne waited. She could not resist teasing Anne for her bourgeois apparel.
“Lovely dress, Anne.”
“I wore it just for you,” she said, teasing back.
“Would you like something to eat?” Catherine asked.
“If you don’t mind, could we just sit over on the bench? This won’t take long, and I really want to get out of this costume and back to my things before someone gets brave and goes exploring.”
The women made their way to a nearby bench.
“I didn’t properly thank you for taking care of my brother. I was so emotional last night that I completely forgot my manners.”
“You don’t have to mention that. He’s a close friend, and he helps me as much as I help him, even if he doesn’t admit it. It was the least I could do.”
“But it was under difficult circumstances.”
“Telling you the truth, the only difficult part was keeping it a secret. He was adamant that he had to stay away from all you because he was convinced he only caused misery. I at least wanted to send you a note, but he made me promise. I didn’t feel right betraying him, so I let it go.”
Anne stood up, looked down at Catherine, then sat back down and stared at her, as if peering into Catherine’s soul. “I didn’t ask to meet because of your brother.”
“Wh
at is it?” Catherine asked, feeling strangely nervous.
“There are enough secrets going around. It just bothers me that no one is being totally honest. I understand why Thomas never told Xavier about himself. That wicked strength of his, that temper, only makes him more frightening. But I said to myself I can’t be playing around. So, I said, ‘Anne, what must you do?’ I said we should make a compromise. I’ll leave the Thomas thing alone for him and Xavier, but I’m admitting other things. Which brings me here. There isn’t a way of making this easy. You can hate me if you want.”
“Anne, please. Out with it.”
“Marcel. That man—I know you think you love him. But he’s not everything that you think. He’s got you under a spell. An old one that he learned in my home country. You’re not yourself when thinking about him. He’s manipulating you.”
Catherine laughed at this utter lunacy. She accepted a vampire and knew that Anne had magical powers, but the thought of Marcel, a common merchant, seducing her with a potion was absurd.
“Anne, this is nonsense.”
“No, it’s not. Can I show you?”
“I won’t engage in this foolery. I’m busy.” She got up and headed toward the carriage, but Anne followed.
“He’s here, in Paris, you know. I’ve been watching him, seduce girls, steal from the poor, work his magic all around.”
“You sound more and more unstable with every word.”
“How else do you explain the sexual longing that you don’t have for any other man?”
Catherine turned, anger welling within her. “I won’t discuss that in public, or with you for that matter. We hardly know each other. I don’t see how my fiancé is any of your business.”
“I didn’t mean to offend you.”
“Then kindly refrain from mentioning this ever again.”
“Catherine, listen to me. There’s evil afoot, and it wasn’t brought by the vampire. There’s pure evil, and it’s after you. I can help protect you, but you have to let me in.”
“Anne, I have made myself clear.”
“At least I said my peace.”
“That you have,” Catherine said. “May I go?”
“No one’s stopping you. Will you at least take and keep this?” She held out a purple velvet pouch, slightly heavy and full of some powder and who knows what. Catherine started to take it to appease the woman but thought better of it.
“I appreciate your concern, but I don’t need this.”
Anne reluctantly took it back. “I meant no harm. Only to tell you what I know.”
“What you think you know,” Catherine corrected. With that, Anne walked down the street. Catherine entered her carriage and ordered the driver home.
Thomas Swoons
9 June 1793
THOMAS WOKE DETERMINED, exhilarated that Xavier had returned last night but embarrassed and angry with himself that he had attacked the innocent sailor. He was too accustomed to his pattern of revelry and excitement followed by violent anger, a pattern of his since childhood. He always got out of predicaments with ease. He also thought that Anthony usually overreacted when he scolded him, but last night’s guilt over the sailor, which started even before Anthony shouted at him, changed everything.
So, too, did seeing Xavier. As much as he reveled in finding the man he loved, it embarrassed him that he had ever hurt Xavier. If Thomas wanted Xavier to end his loneliness, he had to fix himself first. He had to end this cycle of violent despair, he had to embrace the emotion and humiliation of his past so that he could truly reform himself. Only then could he prove it to Xavier. And Catherine, who would be much harder to convince.
This latest error in judgment with the sailor nagged at Thomas to the point that he agreed with Anthony. He had to get control of his temper. Not that he hadn’t known that all along. He had tried, though no one believed him. Xavier’s resurrection gave him new hope for himself, and he had almost ruined it with jealousy.
Surely Xavier could control Thomas and give him a sense of peace—his long-term transformation depended on this relationship. He would tell Xavier everything and ask for his help. Thomas reminded himself, however, to do this with reason. He could not force Xavier.
Thomas smiled, calm and in control, just as Anthony had wanted. He wondered why it took this long and promised himself to work diligently to avoid a relapse. Waiting for Xavier to make the first move would be the first sign that he had conquered his demons.
Thomas went to glance at Xavier just one time, so he hid in shadow and saw the priest talking to Catherine. When it got darker and Catherine left, Thomas moved from his hiding spot and watched Xavier walk to his bedroom, then moved onto the roof and peered into the room to see his love one more time.
Xavier was talking to himself, something Thomas had noticed a number of times, especially when he worked through difficult problems, but what he heard stopped his heart.
“Catherine’s right, of course. I’ve got to overcome my fear.” Xavier was undressing, so Thomas glanced at the firm body, firing his passion anew.
“Why didn’t I tell her that I almost went to find Thomas today but was too scared?” Xavier crawled into bed and chuckled. “I just delayed because it’s the next big step that Anne talked about. I’m just frightened. I’ll mark my calendar and promise that, if I don’t go to him by the end of the month, I’ll have Catherine do it for me.” Xavier extinguished the candle, rolled over and hugged a pillow, looking happy, determined, and proud.
Thomas crept off the roof, full of hope. Xavier wanted to come to him!
Catherine: The Prodigal Returns
10 June 1793
CATHERINE WAS FINALLY accustomed to having Xavier around again when more shocking news came. Jérémie was in Paris. He had sent word that he would come to the Saint-Laurent salon at noon, so Catherine ordered a private lunch. After these long months apart, she was too selfish to share him and, besides, his letter requested a private meeting.
Hearing Jérémie in the hall, Catherine went to greet him, but what she saw startled her. Jérémie stood with his charming smile but with a more mature stature, as if the trip abroad had made him into a man. Catherine admired his musculature for the first time. He had a captivating presence despite his soft demeanor. He came down the hall, kissed her cheek, and gave her a warm hug.
“Catherine, I’m glad to see you.”
“You look wonderful. I arranged for lunch in my study. Just the two of us, as you requested.” Catherine ushered Jérémie into the room and sat across from him, anticipating idle discussion and catching up, but Jérémie uncharacteristically took control.
“I hope my return hasn’t shocked you.”
“Not at all. I’m happy you’re here. Is your family safe?”
“Yes, securely hiding in Rome and completely oblivious as to why the monarchy was overthrown. Painfully aristocratic, but I expected as much. They were incensed when I told them I was returning to Paris, but I was worried about you and the salon. Besides, I was ready to be back. I almost came sooner, but the thought of being here without Michel was too hard.”
“His death has been hard on all of us.”
“Despite it all, you look beautiful,” said Jérémie suddenly.
“Thank you,” Catherine said, surprised at the unexpected but very kind compliment. “I do want to warn you, before you find out some other way, that things have been difficult around here. I’m absolutely exhausted. Not physically, but emotionally. I lost two brothers in a short period of time, then regained one, which was just as fatiguing. It wasn’t until you were gone a while that I realized how much I missed you. When we work through these mounds of paperwork together it goes twice as fast.”
Jérémie fumbled nervously with his hat. He had donned the tricolours and his face was bright red.
“I hardly meant to embarrass you,” Catherine said, confused.
“No, I felt the same way. Please, continue.”
“Well, I told you that Xavier has returned from t
he dead. And it’s been wonderful. He’s very much himself, full of life and love. However, he’s struggling with a lot. You realize that he struggles with sex?” Catherine laughed again at how Jérémie squirmed. “I know how men talk, so don’t act so shocked. Anyway, he doesn’t like women. He likes men, and I don’t see why people worry about it so much. Thomas is no help because he needs Xavier to come first to him, which compounds the issue because I think that he is the man in their relationship.”
“Catherine!”
“Oh, relax.”
“You sound like a common sailor,” he said, clearly horrified.
“Then get a drink and we’ll toast,” she shot back. “Regardless, things are more complicated because Xavier is still unsure of himself. Especially when so much of my effort goes to countering Maria’s drivel. She’s always talking about Catholicism and nonsense, warning Xavier and making him question things all over again. It drives me quite mad, because that woman romps around with all sorts of her own kind in this very basement, but tells Xavier it’s different because they all serve the church.” She shook her head, disgusted. “Rubbish. Sexual organs are sexual organs, no matter the religious affiliation.”
“Catherine!” Jérémie cried again but smiled widely. After a pause, he asked, “What about you?”
“I was only concerned about my brother and the people around him. Everything else runs as usual.”
“I meant to ask about you. I know all about this place and how you operate it. You’ve talked about every topic imaginable except yourself.”
She brushed him off. “I’m fine. Now that Xavier has returned, I’m fine.”
“Are you still engaged to Marcel?”
“Please, Jérémie. I don’t need anyone to take Michel’s place.”
“Catherine,” Jérémie said sternly, “this isn’t about Michel. I asked and would appreciate an answer. Forget why, just accept that I care for you. I have reflected a lot during my time away, and the one thing that I had done previously, which was a disservice to you, was bite my tongue too often. Marcel is a fiend. He’s using you, and nothing positive will come from your marrying him. I won’t dwell on it every time we meet, but you need to know how I feel.” Jérémie sweated and paced nervously about the room. He had never talked to her in this manner, never so austerely. At first she wanted to comfort him and explain her reasons, yet she had missed Jérémie terribly and he had now ruined their reunion.