An Improbable Pairing

by Gary Dickson

  Scott, Desirée, his parents, and her mother and uncle arrived together. As they waited for the others, Pierre struck up a conversation. “My dear Scott,” he said in his pleasant way, “tomorrow is the big day. Tell me—are you nervous? Excited?”

  “I’m all those and more. Mostly, though, I’m very happy,” he said.

  “My boy, that is the correct answer. You are aware that you’re getting quite a prize?” Both men looked at Desirée fondly, who gave them a brief wave from across the room.

  “No one is more aware than I. I’m a lucky man,” Scott replied.

  “By the way, I like your parents very much. It isn’t my place to say, but they are very distinguished. Very correct,” Pierre said graciously. Scott was touched; the older man clearly didn’t offer praise falsely; he meant what he said.

  “Thank you. I’m sure they would be pleased to know you think so,” he said.

  Out of the corner of his eye, Scott saw that his mother had pulled Desirée aside and they were intently engaged, his mother’s dark bob contrasting with Desirée’s mane of blond hair. Their conversation appeared to be more than an exchange of opinions on the weather. They talked for some time, and Scott was relieved to see their facial expressions remained cordial. Finally, they parted, embracing awkwardly in the French way, with light kisses on each cheek. His mother sought out her husband while Desirée found Scott.

  He gave her a quick kiss on her offered cheek. “So, darling; am I to know what that was about?” he asked, inclining his head toward his mother.

  “Yes—we had a clearing of the air,” she said.

  “How so?”

  “I’ve noticed your mother is very tense, so I decided to ask why; had I or my family done anything? And I’m glad I did; like you, your mother is very direct. She said she was having difficulty adjusting to a situation that had been forced on her without consent, and she and your father were disappointed in ways connected to what their dreams for you had been.”

  Scott sucked in his breath. “I’m surprised she was able to describe what she’s feeling. I’m well aware; she and I have had this conversation before, and I’m sorry if those comments hurt you in any way. She is just angry,” Scott said. “I am her only child, and they had pinned so much on my academic success.”

  “I was surprised myself, but this was her chance to voice her opinion to me, and she took it. After all, I did ask her to be frank with me—did she blame me for the circumstances?”

  “What did she say?”

  “Yes; she could blame me, because I’m older and more sophisticated; but then, she wouldn’t blame me because I was to be the mother of her grandchild and her only son’s wife.”

  “A triumph of pragmatism over personality.”

  “Then, she acknowledged that everyone had been very kind, kinder than either of them had expected. That she could see why you fell in love with me.”

  “My mother is a woman who knows how to change gears.”

  “And I told your mother that I admired her honesty. I understood her anger and her disappointment and hoped that time and our love would prove we’re not making the mistake they all fear.” A warm smile played about Desirée’s lips then, and Scott so wanted to kiss her deeply. “And well, you saw the rest. She thanked me; I thanked her; and we embraced.”

  THE FINAL GUESTS ARRIVED, AND FESTIVITIES WERE FULLY under way. As the bride-to-be, Desirée commanded the room, and she’d chosen her attire carefully, aware that she’d be the main interest. She was wearing an exquisite silk chiffon dress in a muted heliotrope, still tempting fate by choosing an empire waist. Diamonds were draped modestly (if so many carats on display could ever be called modest). She always wore her hair up at formal occasions, and diamond earrings dangled from her lobes; on her finger, her engagement ring, that square-cut emerald, dazzled. Stiletto heels brought her height even with Scott’s and positioned her still sexy figure into its most feminine silhouette.

  There was Andre. He pulled Scott aside and said, “My dear boy, I’ve seen the countess in newspaper photographs, and she is beautiful; in person, however, she is a vision.”

  When Madame de Bellecourt approached Sarah Stoddard, the party held its collective breath. The two women had realized their figurative importance to the families, and their facial expressions and gestures reflected genial rapport and happy acceptance. If they held unrealized dreams for their offspring, it wasn’t visible. Neither would ruin the party by placing a pall over the couple’s happiness.

  Meanwhile, Uncle Pierre was translating as Mr. Stoddard conversed with Father Kohler. “I believe I may have been among the first to observe the way your son and the Countess de Rovere seemed so much in love and were so temperamentally matched,” the priest said. “You probably know of your son’s gift of humor, but Desirée, whom I’ve known since she was small, can hold her own with him. They match wits in a nice way, if you know what I mean. They love each other’s humor without being competitive. This bodes well for the future.”

  The banquet table, ablaze with candles in imposing and gilded candelabra, was decorated with a profusion of white and yellow flowers arranged at intervals and matching linens. As the guests took their seats, the place settings of antique Bernardaud china and Baccarat crystal glasses shone in the soft light; antique Christofle silver with gold filigree in the handles, arranged with military precision, sparkled. Small cards with each individual’s name inscribed in decorative calligraphy marked the correct seating.

  When all were in place, and a white Chassagne-Montrachet poured, dinner service began. A host of waiters bustled about, serving the first course (a crab salad with Louis dressing and mixture of hearts of palm and artichoke bottoms). The dinner partners warmed to each other and began to talk; the meal passed quickly as the wine and food continued to flow.

  After dessert, a St. Honoré cake, Desirée’s uncle and Scott’s friends, Albert and Jean, made toasts, each wishing in various ways happiness, long life, and health for the couple.

  When the toasts had finally concluded, Father Kohler took the lovebirds aside for what they assumed might be a brief prayer or devotion.

  “Unfortunately, something of extreme urgency has come up,” Father Kohler said. Scott and Desirée, alarmed, felt the warm glow of just moments ago dissipate. “I have been commissioned to relay a desire. His Holiness, Cardinal Giorgio Pignatelli of the Basilica of San Marco in Venice, has requested a meeting with you this evening, if possible, at your home on Avenue Foch.”

  “What’s this about, Father?” Desirée asked, panic rising in her voice.

  Scott felt no panic, only anger. “It’s the count, Desirée,” he said through clenched teeth. “Venice, San Marco—put the clues together,” Scott growled.

  “I can’t believe it,” Desirée gasped.

  forty-nine

  GUSTAV GUIDED THEIR CAR ALONG AVENUE FOCH, where Scott noted a large black Mercedes idling across the street. Shortly after they entered the apartment, the building’s concierge announced Cardinal Pignatelli was in the foyer, and Desirée asked the concierge to escort the cardinal to the elevator.

  When the door opened, a frail, older man of sallow complexion stood waiting to be welcomed. Scott was going to have a difficult time controlling his anger. He wasn’t Catholic, and he was tired of pious clergy with their clasped hands constantly interfering in their life. He was a nonbeliever—how were these old men the final arbiters of truth? Didn’t they have enough to do managing their own affairs? Desirée, however, wouldn’t see things as Scott saw them. That, somehow, Desirée might be persuaded to sacrifice her own happiness for her faith had always been a risk. He’d have to be careful.

  The cardinal apologized for the late hour and unexpected nature of his visit, thanking Desirée for agreeing to meet on this matter of supreme importance. He ignored Scott, though he did offer to speak in French implicitly for his benefit. Desirée agreed that French would best accommodate all present. They took a seat in the salon.

  The cardina
l cleared his throat and began. “Tomorrow, Countess, you will take a very dramatic step, a fateful step—a step that cannot be retraced.”

  “I’m aware of the significance of tomorrow,” Desirée said coolly.

  “I’m here as your husband’s spiritual pastor as well as a representative of his family in Venice.”

  Desirée squared her shoulders. “Ex-husband, Father. As you are aware, our brief and unfortunate marriage was annulled.”

  “Yes, Countess, but we are not here to speak of legalities. We are here to address spiritual preferences, ecclesiastical bedrock, and core principles of faith,” he replied pompously. Scott glared; he could see where this was leading, and he didn’t care for the conversation one bit.

  “And what preference would that be?” Desirée asked, pretending that she, too, could not see what the cardinal had planned.

  “That marriage is final, forever, and indissoluble.”

  Scott wanted to choke the old man (or, preferably, Stefano), but he knew it was a moment for control. He remained silent, the cardinal deliberately continuing to ignore him.

  “We are well past any consideration of that,” Desirée said. “That union ended with the count’s infidelities. He had no respect for the sanctity of marriage.”

  No flicker of feeling crossed the cardinal’s countenance. Clearly, he had the upper hand. “It is possible that the dispensation will not be available tomorrow for the ceremony,” he said, locking his eyes on Desirée’s face.

  “It’s too late.”

  “My child, it’s never too late to follow God’s will.”

  “I’m pregnant, Father.”

  Ah, Scott thought; you didn’t see that coming, did you? For a moment, it appeared the cardinal might faint, but he braced himself at the last second and looked at Desirée with an expression somewhere between disbelief and resignation. “I see,” he said. Without another word, he quickly stood, bid them farewell, and retreated the way he had arrived.

  Scott and Desirée remained where they were on the couch, pondering what had just happened, the same thoughts, questions, and fears swirling about their minds. Would the cardinal reveal Desirée’s pregnancy to Stefano? Tasked as he was, how could he not? And what new stunt would the count pull when he realized his plans were foiled? Could the cardinal still wreck the dispensation and cancel the ceremony, now only some eleven hours away? And would the whole sordid matter be splashed about in the morning’s newspapers?

  Scott broke their silent reveries. “Will he tell?” he asked.

  “I don’t know,” Desirée said.

  It was a fitful night, one they had to endure separately. They’d decided earlier that Scott would sleep in an adjoining guest apartment to honor the tradition of grooms not seeing the bride on the day of the ceremony. No one wanted to tempt fate at this juncture.

  fifty

  THE EARLY NEWSPAPERS MADE NO MENTION OF Desirée’s delicate condition, only that she and Scott were to be married that very day. This didn’t necessarily mean anything; perhaps the item had been too late to fit into the morning editions. All was relatively quiet outside, which Scott took as a good sign, reasoning that the paparazzi would be outside their door screaming for verification if they had been provided with any inside information. Maybe the count had something even more humiliating to spring on Desirée now that he was fully aware of his desire’s futility. As Scott prepared for the day, it occurred to him that Andre had been right; tradition can be an unrelenting taskmaster.

  He left the apartment about an hour ahead of Desirée, bound for the church, and everything seemed normal. His security personnel and the press behaved predictably (at least, for them); the only worrisome sign was another black Mercedes stationed across the street from the church, precisely where Desirée would arrive within the hour.

  THE CEREMONY WAS TO BE A HIGH MASS, AND, AS NOON approached, Scott waited at the altar with Monsignor Philippe des Champs (the presiding priest), Father Kohler, and his two best men, Jean and Albert. He had time to admire the church’s architecture; the impressive stone edifice, with its stained-glass windows, beautiful murals, and frescoes depicting the trials and life of Jesus and the apostles, dated from the eleventh century. The mighty altar with crucified Christ majestically looming dominated the interior while the organ’s mathematically scaled notes rang of Bach and Vivaldi. Scott’s mind drifted back to his first vision of Desirée, there on the ship, a singular and unexpected delight. How could he have anticipated that what was love at first sight on his part would result ten months later, here in Paris on the Avenue Marceau in the very church that had, along with many happy occasions, seen the funerals of de Maupassant and Proust?

  He stood there, much as he had stood that morning in Le Havre, waiting for and finally catching sight of Desirée as she’d left the ship: her face upturned, her blue-green eyes, searching upward across the decks in the morning mist, looking for him. Then, as now, he was searching for her.

  There was a rustling sound beyond the doors. Scott saw Pierre first; next, a flash of white before the mighty organ resounded with the intonations of Wagner’s Bridal Chorus, and the attendees rose as one to turn toward the aisle. Floating on a cloud of alabaster taffeta and chiffon, Desirée slowly made her way toward the altar on her uncle’s arm. A lace train of French dentelle trailed behind; in her hands, Desirée clasped a bouquet of lily of the valley and edelweiss in deference to her French as well as Swiss origins. From behind the veil, Scott could see her sparkling eyes and radiant complexion. Watching her regal approach, he glanced at the faces surrounding them; all were, like him, struck by Desirée’s exquisite beauty. Madame de Bellecourt’s expression rested somewhere between resignation, pride, and peace; his mother’s one of strain, curiosity, and love for her son; and his father, beaming with resolve and pride.

  As the monsignor and Father Kohler shared duties regarding the wedding sacraments, Desirée and Scott gazed into each other’s eyes with love and joy. This day was finally happening. They made the classic vows and promises under the happiest of circumstances, and Scott hoped that none of the specters previously raised would ever test the fortitude of their commitment.

  In the exchange of rings, Scott and Desirée placed matching gold bands from Cartier on one another’s fingers. Then came I dos, the pronouncement that they were now man and wife, and the lifting of her veil. Desirée’s siren face shone, and then came the kiss, reserved yet loving, correct to the point that even Madame de Bellecourt would approve.

  AFTER THE CEREMONY AND THE OFFICIAL AND THE UNOFFIcial photographers had exhausted their appetite for pictures (or, Scott thought wryly, run out of film), the happy couple was finally alone. Ensconced in the rented white Rolls-Royce Cabriolet, Gustav at the wheel, they rested in the back seat on the way to the reception.

  Hardly able to contain his happiness, Scott exclaimed, “We made it!”

  “We did,” his wife agreed.

  “But how?” he asked wonderingly. “Doesn’t it seem surreal to you, Desirée? Are we truly, finally, going to be happy together—without any impediment?”

  With a coy smile, Desirée reached to extract a small envelope tucked in her garter. Handing it to Scott, she explained. “This was delivered at the house only ten minutes before I left for the church.”

  Scott unfolded the message and read: Your wedding gift is my silence. S.

  QUESTIONS FOR DISCUSSION

  1.At the beginning of An Improbable Pairing, Scott is attracted to an unknown woman, somewhat older than he. How does this set the tone of the story to come?

  2.Control is a common theme in An Improbable Pairing. Discuss the role it plays in Desiree and Scott’s relationship. Who had more control in the relationship? Did it work for them, or was it a problem?

  3.Tangent to this issue of control is the gender reversal within the Scott/Desirée relationship. As Scott exhibits in the first chapters, he has been brought up as a traditional male of the 1960s, particularly in relation to the opposite sex. Desirée
proves that she is not a woman of this period, but rather a woman more resembling a woman of current times. Discuss Scott’s ability to adjust to a paradigm so opposite to his nature. Discuss how the two protagonists accommodate each other’s needs without losing their individuality.

  4.Scott has several different relationships when the story begins. Discuss the role of relationships and its different forms presented throughout the book. How were they similar? How were they different? Were these relationships an advantage for Scott? How did they work to move the plot along?

  5.Discuss the role religion plays in this book. Why was it so important to Desiree and her family?

  6.Why do you think age is so important to Scott?

  7.Discuss Scott’s relationships with Marlyse and Desiree. How were they similar? How were they different?

  8.How might the book have been different if the roles of Scott and Desiree were reversed? Would there be more or less obstacles?

  9.Were the characters easy to relate to? Who did you identify most with? Why?

  10.Do you think the time period influenced the events in An Improbable Pairing? How? How do you think this story would have differed if it were set in present day?

  11.What obstacles do Desiree and Scott face in their relationship? Which do you think was the hardest to overcome?

  12.What are your opinions of Desiree? How did her relationship with Stefano differ from her relationship with Scott? Do you think her past relationship had any influence on her current life and choices?

  13.Scott’s parents always had a plan for Scott’s life. What was that plan? Was it ever important to Scott or what he wanted? Was that plan or goal met in the end?