Love and Honor

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Love and Honor Page 10

by Harry Samkange


  “What was that for, Madame?” Sérolène inquired in wonder.

  “For what you did for Nicolas,” Madame de Blaise said.

  “Oh, I’m afraid he’s done ever so much more for me than I have been able to do for him, Madame,” Sérolène replied, looking intently at the marquise.

  “What is it, child? Why do you look at me so?” Madame de Blaise asked. Sérolène lowered her gaze, blushing lightly with embarrassment.

  “Pardon me, Madame…it’s just that I’ve never met anyone so beautiful…or so kind,” Sérolène confessed.

  “Careful now, or you’ll cause me to love you as dearly as Nicolas seems to,” Madame de Blaise said.

  “Oh, I do so hope that you will, Madame,” Sérolène said, embracing the marquise tenderly. Madame de Blaise returned the embrace, and then closed the curtains to Nicolas’ bed. Placing a comforting arm around Sérolène’s waist, she guided her from the room.

  “Come, let us make our way to the dining room. You need your strength as well. I’m sure your cousine will be delighted to see you again and to know that you are recovering well. Do not fear. Julius will stay with him and the doctors will be back in the morning to re-examine him…and you. I’m looking forward to us coming to know each other much better over the coming days, my dear sweet child. Much better indeed.”

  VI. Recovery

  The widely circulated report of Nicolas’ extraordinary act of heroism raced through the principal cities of the French Indies like wildfire, eclipsing even the sensation of the impending marriage of his brother, the comte de Marbéville. From St. Domingue to Martinique, it was difficult to find an ill word spoken about Nicolas anywhere, his selfless conduct even succeeding in suppressing -- if not entirely eliminating -- the unfavorable sentiment so long held against his mother by much of Colonial high society.

  The Vaudreuils were the first to lift the siege of social ostracism so long enforced upon the Marquis and Marquise de Blaise, by inviting all of the Montferrauds to dine with them at their first convenience; unable to continue to support the decade and a half-long policy of social exclusion in the wake of Nicolas’ selfless heroism and the great debt they now owed him for saving the life of young Charlotte de Vaudreuil. The Comte d’Argout, the Governor of St. Domingue, had even come to pay a visit at Nicolas’ sickbed, to personally convey his admiration and esteem. He also extended an invitation to the Montferrauds to pay a reciprocal call at the Governor’s Mansion, as soon as Nicolas was suitably recovered. Even the Baron de Salvagnac came on the day after Julienne arrived, to express his thanks in person.

  In the salons, those voices and opinions previously arranged against Madame de Blaise and the marquis were effectively silenced; led surprisingly by the very influential voice of the Comtesse de Talonge, who had long been opposed to the cause of the marquis and marquise. What time, tolerance, charity, and good works had not been able to overcome, a singular act of heroic élan had accomplished almost overnight. It was the first and most important lesson Nicolas would learn about French sensibilities and character: that there is nothing more appealing to a Frenchman than an act of gallant heroic sacrifice.

  Through his instant and unthinking act of heroism, Nicolas’ name was covered in glory. In an outpouring of sympathy and appreciation for his deed, the stench of lingering prejudice against the marquise began to evaporate as if it had never existed, the actions of the son erasing any previous stain against the mother. As Nicolas endured the pain of his recovery, long lines of carriages, curiosity seekers on foot and on horseback, appeared daily, winding their way up the road to the Blaise Estate to render their vocal support and good wishes to the family and hope for a glimpse of the man of the hour.

  For the first time since she had married, social invitations began to come in not only for the marquis, but for Madame de Blaise as well. Now when the marquise went out, hats were doffed to her and backs were no longer turned; her presence was enough to draw applause and even occasional shouts of acclaim from well-wishers. No one was more surprised than she at the dramatic turnaround of events, and no one could have accepted the arrival of such a surprising reversal of fortune with more grace or humility. The marquis’ desk was piled high with the many letters of congratulation they had received, along with invitations to engagements that now awaited his consideration and approval. Despite this change of favor, the irony of how swiftly their social fortunes had turned, and at what painful cost, did not at all escape them.

  “Well now, this is all very fine indeed. For fifteen years they’ve snubbed us and now it seems we’re the toast of the town! Do they think to so quickly erase all the slights, the innuendo and slander?” the marquis said with annoyance, unable to conceal his exasperation at the open hypocrisy of his peers. Madame de Blaise remained silent as she always did when she disagreed with her husband, letting the swift current of his temper run its course before wading in with her own opinion.

  “You disagree?” he asked at length, attentive as he invariably was to her moods and her counsel.

  “It’s no good dwelling on the past, my love. What’s gone is gone, and what’s done is done. Can we not be brave enough to accept the opportunity our son’s heroism has given us? Besides, after fifteen years, a party or two would be fun, don’t you think?” she said with a saucy smile, causing him to laugh as he drew her onto his lap.

  “Of course you are right. I thought only of my pride, forgetting what you have also suffered for so long,” he said. She wrapped her arms around his neck, resting her head on his shoulder.

  “I’ve suffered nothing, my love. I have the man that I want and love, and two fine sons who are more precious to me than anything. There’s nothing more that matters,” she declared. He turned his head so that he could kiss her, his hands beginning to wander over her ample delights as she responded to his rising ardor.

  “Perhaps we should try and add another of our own to the brood,” he said playfully, caressing her thighs and waist, his right hand slowly rising to fondle her breast through the layers of satin and muslin she wore. She giggled playfully, happy for the amorous nature of his devotion, which she felt stiffening against her skirts. She touched her forehead to his, as he slipped a hand down the front of her bodice, her own passions rising in concert with his intimate attentions.

  “If only it were possible,” she said, kissing him deeply, letting her hands stray over him as he worked in earnest to loosen her considerable armaments.

  “Take me to bed my love,” she purred encouragingly. “Then let’s say yes to every damned invitation and scandalize them all!” Blaise picked her up and carried her toward their suite of rooms, the warmth of their laughter and love echoing throughout the house.

  *

  “Have you noted the degree of amity between Nicolas and Mademoiselle de La Bouhaire, my dear? They do seem to be getting on rather well, don’t you think?” Blaise observed, donning his waistcoat and jacket, still feeling comfortably lethargic in the aftermath of their lovemaking.

  “That is very much an understatement, dear Édouard. They’re virtually inseparable, those two, and she’s very protective of him. I guess more than one match was made on your visit to the Salvagnacs. Would you be a dear and tie up my back, my love?” Madame de Blaise purred, turning round so that her husband could cinch up and lace her corset.

  “Is it that serious?” Blaise responded in surprise, putting his knee at the small of her back for leverage as he pulled tightly on the laces of her corset.

  “Judge for yourself, my love, but I believe we have another budding alliance in the making. And this one looks most assuredly to be an affair of the heart,” Madame de Blaise said with certainty, ringing for her maids to help her with the rest of her wardrobe. The marquis looked thoughtfully at his wife, considering the implications of what she alleged.

  “Perhaps this is a matter I should pay more attention to. Shall we go and pay our young doves a call?” Blaise said, kissing his wife gently on her exposed neck as Sarah came in to
assist with the task of dressing her mistress.

  “I wager we’ll find them in the music room, or perhaps the amusement room. You may go on to your study, my dear; I’ll come and get you as soon as I’m ready,” Madame de Blaise replied. The marquis nodded, casting an admiring glance at the half-dressed form of his wife before heading off to take up his own endeavors.

  It took the better part of an hour for Madame de Blaise to complete her toilette and then fetch the marquis from his study. Her intuition as to the whereabouts of her sons and their guests proved correct, as the happy sounds emanating from the amusement room confirmed upon their approach. Pausing just outside the doorway, they observed Julienne, Francis, and Sérolène seated at a card table with Nicolas, all animatedly engaged in play, Sérolène clapping her hands joyously, obviously the winner of the latest round.

  “What a difference these past few weeks have made. He seems very much recovered, does he not? And look how comfortable they seem together; like brother and sister, or perhaps much more,” Madame de Blaise observed to her husband, who nodded his agreement.

  Madame de Blaise entered the room first, clearing her throat to announce her presence. As soon as she saw the marquise, Sérolène stood to receive the embrace she had come to expect and welcome from the woman she increasingly regarded as a surrogate mother. She then turned to complete an elegant curtsey to greet the marquis, who received it and the joint greeting from Julienne with an elegant bow of his own.

  “I see you’ve beaten him again,” Madame de Blaise said to Sérolène with a laugh.

  “Yes Madame; he’s still quite hopeless, I’m afraid, though I’ve done my best to teach him,” Sérolène said, smiling at Nicolas.

  “What’s the latest prognosis on your recovery, Monsieur? It seems your condition has improved markedly over the past several days, though of course I expect anyone would demonstrate a degree of improvement when in the company of two such charming and delightful young ladies,” the marquis said.

  “I spoke with the doctors myself only yesterday. It will be several more weeks before he’s fully fit and able to resume his riding and other activities, but he is able to take his exercise by walking and otherwise exerting himself, provided he does not overreach. The doctors were most concerned with the condition of his chest, as more than one rib was fractured, but as there have been no signs of internal bleeding, the most serious of their apprehensions on that account have passed. The dizziness and headaches he initially experienced have lessened significantly over the past few days, but he still has a rather nasty gash on his head; thank goodness it’s just above the hairline. All in all I’d say he’s been very fortunate to escape so lightly from such an ordeal, though he does still bear careful watching,” Madame de Blaise reported thoroughly in response to her husband’s query.

  “I believe you have little cause to worry with regard to his proper oversight, Madame. I assure you his taskmaster is quite strict with him,” Francis said, with a nod and a grin toward the vicomtesse.

  “I’m only doing my part to look after him as he so gallantly did for me…and others,” Sérolène pointed out, reminding everyone that hers had not been the only life saved by Nicolas’ heroic actions.

  “Well, now that the most particular and intimate details of my health have been revealed for the consideration of everyone, anyone fancy a bit of exercise?” Nicolas asked, rolling his eyes indulgently at his mother. He surveyed the room for a response as he used the edge of the table to help lever himself upright, masking the lingering soreness in his chest from the several bruised and two fractured ribs he’d suffered. Madame de Blaise watched over him protectively, as did Sérolène, each carefully attentive to his every move.

  “As it’s obvious I’m completely overmatched at cards, perhaps I might fare better in other less demanding pursuits,” Nicolas said.

  “Shall we stretch our legs a bit, Mademoiselle? I believe I could benefit from a bit of a walkabout,” Francis said to Julienne.

  “Of course, if that should please you, my dear,” Julienne replied.

  “Enjoy yourselves, then; I believe we’ve exerted ourselves enough for today,” Monsieur de Blaise said with a twinkle in his eye, patting Madame de Blaise discretely on the bottom as he offered her his arm and they returned to the salon de compagnie together.

  The remaining foursome decided to walk to the top of a pleasant overlook above the marquis’ estate that provided a delightful panorama of the surrounding countryside as well as the amusement of a swing at the top from which to enjoy the view. Francis led the way with Julienne, Nicolas, and Sérolène following along behind them. The walk was long and surprisingly taxing in the moist heat of the rainy season, though the pleasurable company made the exertions more than bearable.

  “How much farther have we to go?” Julienne said after a time, leaning gently upon Francis for support as she began to tire.

  “We’re almost there. I assure you, my dear, the view is worth the remainder of the climb,” Francis said.

  “Then I shall endeavor to continue to the finish,” Julienne replied, very much enjoying the close and unsupervised proximity to Francis that her role as chaperone for her cousine had afforded her over the period of Nicolas’ recovery.

  “It’s been a bit of a blessing, don’t you think?” Julienne said to Francis.

  “What has, my dear?” Francis asked.

  “Our time together. Of course I don’t mean to say I’m glad for your brother’s injuries, but I am pleased that my father has allowed my cousine and me to remain here for some time while Nicolas convalesces,” Julienne said.

  “It has been quite nice, hasn’t it; and I wager not just for us,” Francis said, turning to glance over his shoulder.

  “Why whatever do you mean? Surely their friendship is no more than the innocence of childhood. I’m sure my cousine merely feels a sense of gratitude, and perhaps even obligation for what Nicolas did for her, nothing more,” Julienne said, her eyes searching Francis’ for an indication that he agreed with her.

  “If you say so, Mademoiselle,” Francis said, unwilling to divulge his knowledge of the note he’d delivered, or to be forced to so pointedly contradict her opinions. The moment proved awkward for them both, and so they chose to ignore it by continuing on in silence for several more paces.

  “But what if there were more to their friendship than that? How then would you feel, and what advice would you provide to your cousine?” Francis asked. Julienne considered her response carefully, aware that there were many things at stake in her reply, not the least of which was the consideration of her husband and the interests and feelings of his house. Francis watched her carefully, content for the moment to observe and await her answer.

  “Forgive me, dear Francis; I do not wish to appear as if I am opposed to such considerations, nor do I wish you to believe that I do not value the friendship or the merit of your brother…” Julienne began.

  “But?” Francis cut in.

  “But my very dear friend and soon-to-be husband; surely you must be aware of the many evident obstacles to such an…alliance?” Julienne pointed out.

  “Oh? And what might those be?” Francis asked dryly.

  “Why those of rank, class, position...” Julienne replied.

  “Is my brother not a vicomte of France, a nobleman and chevalier? And if you’re concerned about his prospects I’ll have you know that the income from his estates amounts to more than two hundred and fifty thousand livres per year. I would have thought these advantages sufficient for any lady of quality,” Francis said with increasing heat in his tone.

  “Of course Francis, that is all true, but…”

  “But what, Mademoiselle, but what?” Francis almost shouted, stopping in the middle of the trail, his ire and animation drawing the attention of Nicolas and Sérolène.

  “Please, Francis!” Julienne whispered, her quivering voice and upper lip betraying the extent of her distress.

  “All right -- forgive me, my dear. I s
hall press you no more upon it. I believe I know your answer,” Francis said with a tight smile, though it was evident from the tone in his voice that he was not at all pleased by what he had heard. They had reached the top of the overlook, Nicolas and Sérolène finally catching up to them. Everyone took a moment to admire the view which opened onto a lush green valley, planted as far as the eye could see with sugar cane.

  “Mademoiselle de La Bouhaire, would you care to take a turn with me? There’s a swing attached to the tree over there that provides the absolute best vantage point for viewing. I wager on a day like today you can even see as far as the Cap,” Francis said, eager for a temporary respite from the company of his betrothed.

 

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