His scowl eased, though he didn’t smile. “Never leave without me.”
Her heart melted. They had both been left so many times. “I won’t.”
He opened his hand and grabbed her wrist, his face filled with pain. “Don’t leave me.”
She felt tears trickle down her cheek, and Monsieur Cédric held out a handkerchief, which she ignored while she leaned forward and gripped Emmanuel’s left hand with both of hers. “I’ll stay.”
Emmanuel brought both of her hands up to kiss them. “Will you come with me to Poitou?”
She smiled. “I have a farm in Normandy.”
He smiled, and her heart began to beat again. “Maman mentioned a property, but made it sound like nothing.”
She shook her head. “It’s less than a hundred hectares.”
“So only a hundred horses?” His eyes were soft and his smile broad.
She leaned forward, lost in his blue eyes. “Maybe only fifty or sixty, since some is rocky and part is wooded. There are about fifty hectares in flax now, which could be turned to pasture.”
Monsieur Henri coughed, and they both jumped. “She’s tempting you with pasturage, Manu. Typical femme fatale, you know. You should probably marry her before dragging her off.”
She felt herself blush. Emmanuel’s cheeks went red, too.
Monsieur Cédric chuckled. “All this talk of hectares is getting your blood up, I can tell, mon frère. But you’re going to have to ask her later to marry you, because this is definitely our soup now. Get your elbows off the table and sit up straight.”
As soon as they had bowls in front of them, the Comte de Bures asked, “Do you have family we should contact to arrange contracts, Mademoiselle? Your father’s brother, I believe, would have been your guardian?”
She set her spoon down and dabbed at her mouth. “He’s never been a real guardian. I’ve been a companion since my parents died. I’m twenty-four and have full ownership of my land and savings.” Her stomach turned at the thought of her drunken uncle. “He has only ever contacted me through lawyers, trying to take my mother’s property in Normandy from me. Even when he’s at court he acts like I am invisible.”
The other men grimaced and went back to eating. When Monsieur Cédric finished, he leaned back in his seat and waved for a servant to take his plate. “I suppose that unless Henri changes his mind and wants the Poitou property, it will go to my second son, eh? Now no one needs it. Everyone in this generation is settled, and I have four boys and a girl to provide for, just as Papa did.”
Monsieur Henri shook his head. “I don’t want it. I’m not cut out for farming. I prefer the manufactory and Paris. And I will never have an heir.”
Catherine inhaled sharply. She had never heard anyone in the family mention Henri’s lack of wife so casually, having only heard his mother complain about how embarrassing it was.
Cédric nodded. “Yes, but the land earns a tidy income. Unless you rent it out for almost nothing to your brother, like Jean-Louis did for Manu.”
Emmanuel blushed and glanced at her. “I won’t marry you for your land.”
She felt her cheeks get hot again. “If it weren’t for my land, you would have the land in Poitou.”
Emmanuel shook his head. “Yours is better.”
“You’ve never seen it.”
He smiled, and his eyes darted down to her lips, making her want his kiss.
Monsieur Henri groaned. “Flirting with hectares again.”
They both blushed and looked away. His knee bumped against her skirts under the table, and she blushed again, but when his leg pushed closer until it rested against hers, she instead felt a rush of affection and desire.
Chapter Twelve
The ride back was much quicker but still far too long for Manu, whose arm was on fire. He was afraid he would take off the bandages and find it red and suppurating. He knew it was going to be swollen, and he would likely have a fever for a few days, but infection would not have set in yet, even if it did later and…
He yawned hugely.
He hoped he’d be able to sleep. It was still light, but surely his family wouldn’t mock him if he went straight to bed? The surgeon had told him to go to bed, and he hadn’t, of course.
He couldn’t regret having gone in search of Catherine. He smiled at her where she rode in silence on her chestnut mare.
When he caught her eye, she blushed and smiled back.
So beautiful.
****
Emmanuel, already pale, wobbled in his saddle for most of the last league. Catherine asked him several times if he wouldn’t like to rest, but each time he sat up straight again and smiled blearily at her. When the Comte de Bures asked if he’d rather someone ride ahead and send back a carriage, Emmanuel snapped at him, his words slurred.
They rode directly to the side door closest to the baron’s apartments. The baron and a flock of servants waited for them, the former laughing and chatting idly with passing nobles. Catherine had her old sting of anger because he was so friendly with everyone except the baronesse and those who were close to her. Now that he was mending fences with his wife, Catherine had no reason to hold a grudge. But since he was a force in the baronesse’s life again, Catherine was no longer her patroness’s right hand. She was half relieved, half disappointed.
Emmanuel smiled at his father, his eyes mere slits, his grin tipsy. He swung down from his horse awkwardly and landed with only a slight waver. When he tried to walk, though, his legs gave out under him. His father caught him and bustled him to a sedan chair. Monsieur Cédric helped Catherine down, and she heard Emmanuel declare he could not ride if his lady had to walk. He tried to open the door to climb out of the palanquin, but she held the door closed.
“Catherine.” He smiled at her drunkenly, though he’d only had one glass of wine at the inn. In the shadows, the dark circles under his eyes made him look gaunt. There were feverish pink spots on his pale cheeks.
She glanced at his arm and noticed the sling had blood on it. Her heart fell. “I’ll wait for them to take you up, Emmanuel. Then they can come get me.”
He leaned back in the seat, so she waved for the servants to carry him in.
The baron paused by her. “You will wait for the palanquin?”
She shrugged. “No. I’ll walk. But I couldn’t tell him that or he would have said he would walk, too.”
The baron chuckled and held out his arm. On the way up, she stumbled on the stairs and had to rest at the landings.
“You should have waited for the sedan chair, Mademoiselle. It’s no shame to be exhausted after the day we’ve all had.” The baron squeezed her hand. “It looks like we’ll be up all night, taking turns with Manu. The baronesse said she will go first, as she wishes to retire early. If you would like to stay with him for an hour after her, the rest of us will work out a watch schedule.”
Catherine paused. “You will watch over him yourselves, not set a servant?”
The baron smiled. “While we have many servants who are almost family, there is nothing as calming as true family. Now, who should we talk to in your family to arrange a marriage? I suppose you and Manu are getting married, n’est-ce pas?”
She looked down at where her hand rested on the baron’s arm. “We haven’t spoken of it, precisely.”
“Ah? Well, then I will speak of it. There are no impediments, are there? No previous claims on you, no arrest warrants, no extraordinary sins?”
She shook her head, but her anxiety about Anne’s accusations came back. “I fear the baronesse’s maid will implicate me in the poisoning.”
The baron squeezed her hand again. “Bizarrely, she never returned with the Musketeers after she told Marie she was fetching them. We never found the poison she said was in your room, and Marie said your purse had been stolen. We are fairly confident you didn’t do it.”
She nodded.
“We were certain before the maid implicated herself, so don’t worry. Besides, you didn’t handle the baro
nesse’s food and drink when you were at my house, and Anne did. “
Catherine nodded, her heart lighter. “The baronesse will need a new companion.”
The baron laughed. “She will have me. And a maid who can be trusted. And her friends. I won’t insist she sever ties with them, though I hope she will get to know my friends, too. And her children and grandchildren.”
“She will always be welcome with me. I owe her a great deal.” Catherine was marrying her best-loved son. The baronesse had given her a home and security. The baronesse would never replace Catherine’s own late mother, but beneath the gruffness, she had cared for Catherine.
“Whom do we talk to in your family?”
Catherine shook her head. “No one. I have full ownership of my property and savings. But the Comte de Bures already asked me this.”
The baron grinned at her. “I should have expected it. He was always a better father to Manu than I. But then, Manu refused to speak to me for many years. Luckily, he fell into Dom’s clutches and under Aurore’s spell. You’ll find Aurore’s attentions are insidious.”
Catherine jerked her head around at the sound of a lady’s laugh. The Comtesse de Bures strode toward them. “Oh, Papa! Insidious! You saw me there!”
The baron dropped Catherine’s arm and hugged his daughter to him. “Of course I saw you there. It doesn’t make you any less persistent in forcing your affections on everyone.”
Catherine felt she was intruding on their love, but the comtesse pulled away and flung her arms around Catherine instead. “We’re to be sisters! I do love having sisters. My brothers have all married well for my purposes. And you will call me Aurore. I’ve told you before, but you never do, do you?”
The baron leaned down, his eyes sparkling. “Manu hasn’t asked her yet.”
“Oh! Well, come along. They’ll get him settled in bed soon, and you can sit by him and tend him until he does.”
“And she says she’s not insidious,” muttered the baron as Aurore took Catherine’s hand.
They waited in the baron’s sitting room. When Monsieur Henri came out of Manu’s room and declared he was going to change, Catherine and Aurore swept in. The baron’s valet tidied away the clothes and bowed himself out, leaving the door open.
The comtesse—Aurore—spoke softly to her brother and dabbed at the sweat on his brow before waving Catherine into the chair by the bed, declaring she had to see her son before he went to sleep.
Emmanuel smiled wanly and set his left hand on her knee. She felt her face heat as he rubbed her leg. She grabbed his hand and held it still.
His words came drunkenly. “Henri gave me brandy. Why don’t you lie down with me?”
She knew her face was scarlet. “There is no room, and it will hurt your arm.”
“There is enough room if you lie very close.” He tried to move over a little but must have moved his arm wrong. He groaned and turned green. He squeezed his eyes shut for a long time as he gripped her hand, but finally took a deep breath and opened them. “If you aren’t going to lie next to me, I don’t want you to see me weak like this.”
“D’Oronte announced I was a light skirt.” She looked at the floor.
“D’Oronte is an evil bastard. He had just lost the duel and tried to kill me, so I don’t think anyone believed him. You were engaged to…that other boy.” His words were slurring again and his eyes crossing, but his frown was fierce as if he was ready to fight d’Oronte again. Or maybe fight her late fiancé. His smile appeared drunken again as he said, “And now we are engaged.”
They weren’t, really. They had talked about property, but it was only his family members who mentioned marriage. She knew it was enough. She kissed him gently on the lips and wiped the sweat from his forehead.
And came to a decision. “I’ll go change out of my riding habit and put on loose clothing and come back. And then, if you can make space without hurting yourself again, I’ll lie down.”
The baron sent one of his footmen with her to the baronesse’s apartments. Courtiers, probably getting ready for dinners and evening entertainments, passed her. Some stared and whispered, but most ignored her as always. She wasn’t as notorious as she feared.
The footman knocked at the baronesse’s door, but no one came. Where was the Swiss guard? The footman eased the door open, careful and alert. He whispered, “Monsieur the Baron set my brother to guard the baronesse, but I do not see him. Stay here.”
She glanced down the hallway, which was deserted. No one to ask for help, no one to see what she did. She decided to go in.
The footman slipped his hand into his form-fitting pale blue livery coat and retrieved a dagger. When he saw her in the room he grimaced. “At least stay out here, oui? It’s possible no one is here, but the door was unlocked, and I’ll look around before you go further.”
She nodded, but he still hesitated.
“I’ve trained as a bodyguard, Mademoiselle.”
She glanced at his dagger, then at his face. She nodded. “Call if you need help.”
He smiled and shook his head but finally turned and tiptoed across the sitting room. He swung her bedroom door open, but was out again in a few seconds. There really wasn’t anywhere to hide in her tiny closet, after all. He scratched at the baronesse’s door, then pressed his ear to it. He scowled at Catherine. “Go for help,” he said, his voice soft, but terse.
She swung the door to the hallway open as he opened the baronesse’s bedchamber door and someone inside—a woman, but not the baronesse—shouted.
She shoved the hall door open and screamed for help, vaguely seeing people at the end of the hall jump in surprise, but she ran back into the room and dodged between chairs to her patroness’s room.
The footman held a flailing Anne from behind by both arms. Catherine glimpsed his dagger on the floor by the door and picked it up. The baronesse sat bolt upright on the chair by the window, her typically harsh expression wreathed with fury.
Anne struggled to free her arms, but the footman pinned her more tightly, jabbing his knee between her legs from behind, throwing her off balance.
“She turned him off! He would have married me, but instead he disappeared into the army. Surely you understand?” Anne turned her head to look at the footman while she wriggled against his arms.
Catherine realized Anne was appealing to the footman, hoping for sympathy.
The man replied, his voice calm, but interspersed with harsh breaths as he clung to Anne. “Was this Pierrot? Who came down to la Brosse with you two years ago?”
“Yes! Pierrot! I had to go to the abortionist, because if she had found I was pregnant, she would have fired me, too. If Pierrot had stayed, we would have been married.” She jabbed an elbow into the footman’s gut.
He grunted but didn’t let go. His voice was sweet and soothing. “Pierrot was an idiot, Anne. He should never have left you behind.”
The baronesse snapped, “I turned him off for gambling, swearing, and disrespect. If I had known he had seduced you, I would have sent you with him.”
Anne, who had stopped struggling, began twisting and punching to free herself again. Catherine shook her head at her patroness and held a finger to her lips. The maid would never calm down if the baronesse kept arguing.
Lucas de Granville appeared in the doorway. Catherine waved him off, but he crossed himself, then remained solidly in the doorway, alert and ready to help.
The baronesse spotted him and announced, “My maid was trying to get me to drink poison, Monsieur Lucas.”
“It was my last chance to kill you!”
Monsieur Lucas shook his head when Catherine looked to him for help. “There are stronger men than I on the way right now.”
Anne struggled harder, but some of the palace footmen shoved into the room. They took Anne’s arms and the baron’s footman stepped back to catch his breath. Catherine held out his dagger between her fingers, and he took it and re-sheathed it with a nod.
Another footman in pale
blue livery shoved into the room, face distressed. “She sent me out to find her supper. I locked all the doors.”
The footman who had come with Catherine shook his head. “The maid had a key, idiot.”
The two brothers began arguing, but Catherine sent them into the sitting room, giving them the baronesse’s thanks for having rushed to her aid, which the baronesse was still too upset to do.
After the guards arrived and had led Anne away, two more of the baron’s men barreled in. Catherine was holding the distraught baronesse’s hands by the time the baron and Monsieur Cédric arrived, frantic.
Catherine’s hands shook as she embraced the baronesse and wished her goodnight. Two footmen and Monsieur Lucas accompanied her back to the baron’s apartment. Upon arrival, Lucas held her hand for a moment too long as he bowed over it.
“I am glad you have found a family, Mademoiselle,” he said.
Tears sprang to her eyes and she gripped his hand with both of hers. “Oh, de Granville. I hope you find happiness, too.”
He frowned slightly and stepped away. “Monsieur d’Yquelon has hinted he would hire me as his secretary when his current one retires. Only with a steady income could I marry. I hope to find someone as good as you.”
She felt her face heat and reached for his hand again. “She would have to be a hundred times as good as me to be worthy of you.”
His cheeks went pink too, and he smiled. “Now go take care of your betrothed.”
When she slipped into Emmanuel’s bedchamber, he was asleep, his big body pressed against the wall. She realized she hadn’t changed into more comfortable clothing after all, in the shock and bustle of dealing with Anne, but she was too exhausted to go back to the baronesse’s quarters again. She loosened the ties of her stomacher and skirt so she could breathe more easily, then curled against his side and slept well for the first time in weeks.
The Chevalier (Châteaux and Shadows) Page 21