“That’s all I would need to complete my ruination,” she frowned.
“Believe me, I wouldn’t tell,” he smiled mischievously and turned to the servant who was entering the room. “Ah, Jacques, a bottle of the Marquis’s finest Burgandy, if you please.”
Within minutes Perry was pouring two glasses brimful of the sparkling liquid and, handing one glass to Nicole he said, “I shall now propose a toast. To my freedom!”
“Your freedom?” Nicole questioned.
“Yes, Mother and Cecily are leaving in the morning and I shall be entirely on my own.”
“But are you not to accompany them?”
“Heaven forbid!”
“Perry, you are incorrigible!” she laughed.
“Quite! And shameless too. A true Harcourt. Live for today and forget about tomorrow!”
Sobering immediately Nicole asked, “Is that the trouble with the Harcourts?”
“Hey, no serious conversations. You so decreed upon my entry. Remember?”
“Yes, so I did.”
“Then no sullens. All right.”
“You’re right, Perry, no sullens. Let’s drink to this moment and our friendship.”
“I like that. To us!” He took a hardy gulp. “Since I am sticking around a while—at least until I return to school—will you let me be your escort?”
“That is kind of you, Perry, but I am afraid I shall not be going anywhere.”
Perry nodded in agreement but asked anyway, “Have you done your Christmas shopping?”
“Why, no. I have not given it much thought.”
“You mean you haven’t considered what you’ll give your favorite brother-in-law for Christmas?” She laughed at his banter. “Then tomorrow, my lady,” he bowed. “I shall escort you to the finest boutiques along the Rue de la Paix and Rue de Rivoli. There you may shop until your heart is content. Will you come?”
“How could I refuse? Yes, I should love to come with you.”
“And where do you plan on taking her?” came an angry voice from the doorway.
“Oh, Uncle Maurice, I didn’t know you had returned.” Nicole hurried to his side and took his arm, leading him across the room.
“It is a good thing I came home early or this rascal would deplete my wine cellar.” The Marquis picked up the decanter and studied its contents.
“Unfair, Uncle! I have ordered but one bottle,” cried Perry.
“Of my best, nephew.” The Marquis scowled as he scrutinized the label. “You chose well.”
“Won’t you join us?” Perry asked warily.
The Marquis snorted and accepted the glass Perry handed him, then seated himself beside Nicole. “And where do you propose to go tomorrow?”
“Christmas shopping.”
“Ah, yes, the time grows near. One tends to forget at my age.” He nodded his head reflectively. “Very well, nephew, you may escort her on the condition you behave like a gentleman.”
“Uncle,” Perry claimed in mock sadness, his hands over his heart. “You wound me.”
“Ha! That would be impossible, you young scapegrace.”
“Monsieur le Marquis, again I protest. What kind of impression will you be giving my sister-in-law?” Perry was beginning to bristle at the insults.
Before the Marquis could reply, Nicole intervened, “Gentlemen! Not another word on the subject or I shall retire immediately.”
“You see, nephew, you have managed to upset the lady.”
“I? That’s not so…”
“Are you contradicting me?”
“Why you cantankerous…” Perry fumed.
Nicole jumped to her feet and, as she marched to the door the quarreling pair ceased their wrangling and apologized simultaneously.
“That’s better. Let us enjoy the remainder of the evening in peace.”
Reluctantly they seated themselves on either side of her and applied themselves to the remaining wine and to entertaining Nicole.
“Hahg on!” Perry shouted to Nicole over the noise of the busy shoppers. They were maneuvering along the crowded boulevard among the jostling throngs darting in and out of the festively decorated shops. Perry and Nicole entered a couturier’s where Nicole searched for a suitable gift for Madame Lafitte. She decided on a silk scarf in peacock blue and continued to the perfumers and jewelers under Perry’s guidance.
“Isn’t it exciting? I just adore the Christmas bustle.”
“Exciting?” Perry stared at her in bewilderment.
“Everyone seems so happy today and just a few months ago the French people were so desperate. It’s like a miracle. There’s a feeling of hope again, and Christmas is such a glorious holiday. We must celebrate it fully.” Nicole chatted happily. “Do you think you might get us a Yule log?”
“The wassail punch is more my style.”
“That too. And I will decorate the mantle with ferns.”
“Sure seems like a lot of fuss,” Perry grumbled.
“Oh, Perry, where’s your Christmas spirit?” she asked but did not wait for a reply. A jeweler’s window display caught her eye. “Over here, Perry. I think I have found just the gift for Uncle Maurice.”
“He pushed his way to her side and looked at the blue and gold cloisonné snuff box Nicole was pointing to. “What do you think?”
Perry shrugged, but Nicole was already entering the shop. In her haste she almost collided with a gentleman who was about to leave.
It was Perry who recognized him. “I say, Danforth, do you make it a habit of following us, or is it coincidence that you keep popping up when I have the pleasure of accompanying my sister-in-law?”
“A most happy coincidence I can assure you.” Gordon Danforth smiled fleetingly and bowed to Nicole who had turned to face him. “Lady Ardsmore, my pleasure.”
“Mr. Danforth, how nice to see you again.”
“Thank you. Are you doing your Christmas shopping?”
“Yes, and you?”
“The same.”
She did not like his scrutiny and turned abruptly to the clerk to order the snuff box.
“Would you have time to join me for an aperitif before…”
“Oh, I do not think we will have time.” Nicole interrupted him before Perry could reply.
Undaunted by his sister-in-law’s denial, however, Perry contradicted her. “Sure we do, Nicole. We have the whole day, and my feet are killing me!”
“There is a splendid restaurant at the end of the arcade. Quite exclusive. Shall we say about four?” Danforth seemed as determined as Perry that she would concede to their wish. Nicole hesitated between good manners and a rude refusal. She could murder Perry for forcing her to associate with this man whom her husband considered his closest friend.
“Very well,” she acquiesced rather ungraciously.
“Until four,” Danforth bowed solemnly and retreated.
“Nicole, why didn’t you want to meet him? Gordon Danforth is a perfect gentleman and…”
“And a spying friend of your brother’s!” she spat at him. Perry opened his mouth to protest but Nicole silenced him, “I do not wish to discuss it! Let us finish our Christmas shopping.”
Nicole fumed inwardly through the next half hour as Perry hovered nearby in his own black mood. Finally she asked, “Don’t you have any shopping of your own to do?”
“As a matter of fact I do!”
“Well, then, go do it!”
Color suffused his face as Perry jammed his hat on his head, whirled on his heels and stalked away. Realizing she had hurt him unjustly, Nicole’s anger turned against herself. She had been unkind to one who had treated her only with consideration. It was her infernal Harcourt temper. She must apologize to Perry and find an appropriate gift to accompany that apology. Returning to the jeweler’s, she selected a silver stick pin for her brother-in-law and had it wrapped in holiday paper. As she turned to leave, her attention was caught by another piece of jewelry. It was an emerald and sapphire stick-pin cunningly fashioned as a
mask of tragedy. It was the perfect gift for Valentin. She stared transfixed by the desire to buy it. The temptation was too powerful to resist. “I’ll take it,” she heard herself saying, and gathering her purchases she left the shop to meet Perry in the arcade.
They met Danforth in a small café on the Rue de la Paix. Although Nicole tried to cover her agitation from Valentin’s polite well-mannered friend, conversation was strained. She could not relax in Gordon Danforth’s presence. For Nicole, his loyalty to the Viscount was an obstacle impeding the natural flow of friendship between them. She was seeking a means of early retreat when she heard her name being called. She turned to see a fair-haired girl in a faded blue gown making her way toward the table.
“Nicole, is it really you?”
“Geneviève!” Nicole exclaimed rising to embrace the girl joyfully. Geneviève Lumière and Nicole Harcourt had been inseparable friends at St. Agnes’s School but had not seen each other in recent years.
“Ma chère Nicole, how wonderful to find you like this.” Mademoiselle Lumière smiled and looked at Nicole’s two companions whom Nicole introduced while inviting her to join them.
“Only for a moment. I am with Tante Aline,” she explained as she was seated. “So, mon amie, you are a married woman. I… I am… happy for you.”
Nicole knew the cause of Geneviève’s hesitant good wishes. “I was sorry to hear about Henri, Ginny. Your brother was a dear friend to me, and I shall always remember him kindly.”
Geneviève seemed to forget the others. “He had hoped to make you a member of the family one day…”
Casting a nervous glance at the two men, Nicole spoke hastily. “But, Ginny, you must know that could never have been.”
Catching the anxiety in Nicole’s voice, Mademoiselle Lumière recovered her poise and turned the conversation into less sensitive channels of school-day recollections. Danforth and Perry questioned the girls about St. Agnes’s and added a few anecdotes about their own school days that amused their feminine listeners.
“Oh, but it is so good to laugh with you again, Nicole. How I have missed our cozy tête-à-têtes.”She paused glancing around the room. “But now I must leave you and join Tante Aline. She grows impatient, I fear.”
“Very well, Ginny, but you must come and visit me soon. We have much to catch up on. Madame Lafittejs returning to Paris any day now and will insist on seeing you.”
“I too would like to see the good woman again,” Ginny claimed earnestly. “Nicole, chérie, we will have a long visit, n’est-ce pas?”
“Indeed we shall,” Nicole reassured her.
“My aunt beckons…”
“Allow me to escort you, Mademoiselle Lumière,” Danforth said as he rose to take her arm and she smiled up at him as they moved away.
Placing the last branch of ferns above the mantle and stepping back, Nicole observed her handiwork. “Mmm, what do you think, Jacques?”
“Very nice, madame.”
“Do you think the Marquis will approve?”
“Mais oui, in the old days Monseiur le Marquis and his family celebrated the Noël in great style.”
“You have been with him a very long time?”
“Oui, when he was separated from his family all those years ago, I was the only one left.”
“What happened, Jacques?”
“Monsieur le Marquis and his family planned an escape, but the Marquis was taken ill and could not travel, so he ordered the family to go ahead without him. Unfortunately they were taken captive by the citizens of the tribunal. In the confusion the Marquis did not discover what had happened to his family until we reached England. Then it was too late.” Jacques shook his head.
“I see,” Nicole said quietly. “We must make this a happy time for him.”
As they sat before the fire later that evening, the Marquis remarked, “I thought that young scalawag was going to join us for midnight Mass.”
“I am sure he will be here presently. I do not know what is keeping him.”
“Probably decided he could not take the religious service. Protestants are all alike,” he grumbled.
“Uncle, perhaps you forget I fall into that category myself.”
“Your mother was Catholic.”
“Yes, but my father was a Protestant.”
“You cannot help it if you had strange parents.”
Nicole laughed, “I suppose that is one way of looking at it.”
“Now, do not take offense at an old man, enfant.”
“I love you too much to do that, Uncle Maurice.” Impulsively she kissed him on the cheek. “I could not take offense at you.”
Suddenly there was a loud crash outside the drawing room, and Perry exclaimed, “Damn, I told you to hold it, Jacques!”
“But, my lord, I could not do both,” Jacques complained.
“What is it? What is it?” stormed the Marquis as he and Nicole rushed to the entrance. “A forest! He has brought a forest into my home! knew it! I knew it would happen! He has finally lost his last scrap of sanity.”
“I lugged this… this monstrous log all the way from the Left Bank and this is the thanks I get… recriminations!” Perry retorted.
“Oh, Perry,” Nicole cried happily and ran to him. “You did not forget the Yule log.”
“And the vendor told me it was big enough to last until New Year’s Day.”
“What?” exclaimed the Marquis.
“Well, isn’t it one of your Frenchy customs?”
“Frenchy!” sputtered the Marquis. “Sacré Bleu!”
“He did not mean it, Uncle,” Nicole interceded coming between them. “Besides, Perry is right. In Provence it is the custom.”
“This is not Provence,” the Marquis exploded.
“But, Uncle, Perry has gone through all this trouble just to please us and I think it was a lovely gesture. Thank you.” She kissed Perry’s cheek. “Joyeux Noël, Perry.”
“Happy Christmas, Nicole,” he said kissing her on the lips lightly.
The Marquis, observing the glow in Nicole’s eyes, softened. “Very well, come along, boy, help Jacques and me get this thing into the fireplace so that we can go to church.”
On Christmas Day Nicole and the Marquis were joined by friends for dinner. Perry, Danforth, Geneviève and her Aunt Aline, whom Nicole had invited, and Madame Che-nier, an old friend of the Marquis’s from the days before the Revolution, gathered in the drawing room where the Yule log blazed invitingly.
Before dinner the Marquis closeted himself with Danforth in an effort to gain some information concerning the Viscount. Danforth was the one who had informed the Marquis of his nephew’s liaison with Tessa Von Hoffman following the honeymoon debacle. Although Danforth was unable to furnish the old man with further information, he agreed to keep him abreast of the news.
After a magnificent dinner which included both the French and English Christmas specialties of roast duck, peacock Strasbourg, mince pie and two puddings—black pudding and English plum pudding, Nicole and Geneviève entertained the others by playing the piano and singing.
Toward evening Perry disappeared for some three-quarters of an hour, and when he returned with Jacques, he wheeled in a large bowl of wassail punch containing hot ale, spices and toasted apples. After one glass of the strong herb punch, the merriment of the company increased. The Marquis and Madame Chenier began reminiscing about the good times at the court of Versailles. Their infectious laughter over youthful follies grew boisterous, and Perry plied them with more punch and eager questions. Gales of laughter erupted, and in the warmth and glow of the cozy room all abandoned their stiffness and formality.
As the night wore on, Gordon Danforth and Geneviève Lumière were observed to leave the group, and their absorption in one another was noted by more than one interested party.
“Your voice is enchanting, mademoiselle,” Gordon was saying to her.
“Monsieur Danforth, you try to flatter me, I think.” Geneviève dimpled prettily.
&n
bsp; “No, I am in earnest.”
“Then you are kindness itself, for…”
“I assure you I am not being kind, only truthful.”
Touched by his sincerity, Geneviève gazed wonderingly into his eyes and Gordon caught his breath at the intensity of feeling this winsome creature aroused in him.
Breaking the awkward silence that stretched between them Geneviève asked, “You have enjoyed the Noël?”
“Immensely, for it gave me the opportunity to see you again.”
“Monsieur.” She blushed.
“I say, you two,” Perry broke in on them. “Come and join Nicole and me in a game of whist, will you?”
“Only if you insist,” Gordon replied.
“Well, if that don’t beat all,” Perry cried. “What about you, mademoiselle?”
Geneviève laughed gaily at Perry’s chagrin. “But of course, we will join you. Will we not, Monsieur Danforth?”
“Only if I may be your partner?”
“Most certainly,” she agreed taking his proffered arm.
Later when Danforth escorted the Lumières home, no one was particularly surprised and Nicole wondered if Gordon and Geneviève could be attracted to one another. Unusually intellectual for a girl, Geneviève would be drawn to a quiet, studious man such as Gordon Danforth. As for him, he would find Geneviève not only lovely but intelligent and sensitive. They would suit temperamentally very well. Yet it would not do… Geneviève’s background and his. Perry had told Nicole that Gordon Danforth was a younger son with little money, and Geneviève was penniless. She paused in her reflections. Was it possible that Danforth was after some information about the new Viscountess through her friend, Geneviève? No! She would not let such suspicions spoil an almost perfect day. If only Valentin had been here to share the festivities.
And what was her husband doing at this moment? Was he alone in Vienna? Or was he spending his time with friends? And what friends? Another woman? She must not think it! She would force her thoughts to other things. But had Valentin spared her one thought since that fateful night?
Sweet Bravado Page 10