Chapter 11

11

P altier absently rubbed a dusty bottle of champagne in the wine cellar. It was only six o’clock in the morning, but he had a train to catch in the direction of Montpellier, where he would be visiting his brother for the New Year’s celebration. He took his annual vacation this time of year but wouldn’t dream of leaving without having personally selected the wines for the viscount’s intimate dinner with Mlle Duprey.

He thought about how stark the house seemed when she was there as opposed to the lively warmth the viscount’s young wife had brought. She was nice, but not friendly—polite, but cold. It just wasn’t the same. Paltier carefully placed the champagne bottle in the leather bag he had carried down with him and set about searching for just the right wines that would accompany both the smoked salmon and the thinly-sliced roast beef.

Christmas had been a family affair. Paltier opened the door to the viscount’s niece as Isabelle barreled past him to give her uncle and cousin a hug. Adelaide followed more sedately and held out her hand to Paltier with a warm smile. She walked over to her brother and kissed both his cheeks, her eyes bright with mischief. “England has ruined Isabelle’s manners.”

Isabelle’s cheeks turned pink, and she turned to address Paltier with a charming, “How do you do?” She then kissed her uncle and cousin, murmuring, “How good it is to see you again.” Her exuberance could not be hushed for long, and she threw her arm around Louis. “Show me the speakers you got.”

Adelaide watched the pair of them run up the marble staircase and was reminded of how many times the same scene had unfolded before her, but with two sets of shorter, chubbier legs. She turned to follow Charles who headed up the other marble staircase towards a spacious room with wood floors. He strolled over to a table by the fireplace and took a cigar out of the drawer, which he lit.

“Ugh. The annual holiday cigar.” Adelaide wrinkled her nose. “That’s one habit from our father I wish you had not acquired.”

“At least it’s only once a year and not every evening,” he answered with a puff. He sat on one of the settees and gestured for her to do the same.

“Where’s Maman?” she asked suddenly.

“I believe they’ve run into traffic.”

His sister smoothed out her skirt and said with an air of innocence, “It’s too bad Eléonore and Raphael were otherwise engaged.”

Charles let out a quiet chuckle but then fell silent. Adelaide observed him shrewdly. “Okay Charles, what gives? You’re not one to share much of what’s going on in your life, but this is melancholic even for you.”

Charles considered her for a moment, then turned to the small round table by the settee and tapped ashes onto an ashtray. “The school suspects that Louis is using drugs.”

Her lack of reaction made him think that somehow she already knew, until he noticed her expression, which was stunned. After a short silence, she found her voice. “Have you spoken to him about it?”

“No.” He flicked some imaginary ash from his brown corduroy pants. Adelaide knew her brother well, so she waited in silence for him to continue. At length, he did. “My own son is like a stranger to me. He tells me nothing, and I find I don’t have it in me to pry. He knows I’m here for him. I think he’ll open up when he’s ready.”

Adelaide understood men enough to pause before uttering hasty words, which would only alienate her brother (and which threatened to include “idiot” among them). She spoke carefully. “Still, it would not be a bad idea to let him know what the school told you and remind him that you’re there for him. Teenagers can sometimes forget that.”

She could see her normally proud brother was not opposed to her advice, but that it would not do to push. “Shall we—” Her words were interrupted by the doorbell.

“Ah. Maman.” Charles stood. Paltier was already hurrying past him to welcome the dowager in from the cold.

“Good evening, Paltier.” His mother stood regally in the doorway. Her children walked over to the stairwell and descended the marble stairs to greet her.

“Merry Christmas, Maman.” They each kissed her dutifully. Charles took her arm, accompanying her back up the staircase.

“I see you decided to put your tree here this year,” his mother observed, immediately upon entering the room. Adelaide raised one eyebrow at her brother behind their mother’s back, her eyes twinkling. Charles clamped his lips shut and turned towards Paltier who was hovering discreetly near the entrance. “Let the children know their grandmother is here, please, and then you may bring in the appetizers.”

Paltier didn’t hear the rest of the conversation. He hadn’t intended to hear what the viscount revealed concerning his son, but he had been sorting through the crystal in the adjoining room to be used during dinner. He would never discuss this with another soul, but in his own private council, he felt it would explain a lot about Louis’s behavior. He sincerely hoped the viscount would heed his sister’s advice.

When Paltier arrived at Louis’s door, he tapped lightly and announced their grandmother’s arrival. “Oh, I suppose we’ll have to go down,” he heard Louis say.

“Savage,” Isabelle teased. Paltier smiled to himself as he walked back down the stairs. Louis’s cousin was a good influence on him.

When Paltier brought the tray of champagne in, serving the dowager first, he witnessed Isabelle’s affectionate greeting and Louis’s more sullen one. Carrying the tray around to each family member, he was just in time to hear Isabelle squeezing her uncle’s arm, and saying in a low-pitched voice, “Thank you, Uncle Charles.” He gave her an answering smile.

When they had been seated at the table, and served, Paltier took his place in the back of the room to await the change of plates. Presently, the viscount spoke up with news that did not surprise Paltier, for they had already discussed it a few days earlier. “I’ve decided to hold a spring ball in the chateau this year.”

His mother’s fork did not exactly clatter on the plate, but she lost some of her poise. “Charles, I am astonished.”

The viscount, who must have been expecting opposition, was prepared. “The mayor has promised every available officer to be present the night of the gala. I don’t expect a second theft to occur.”

The dowager enunciated with asperity. “It’s that actress of yours. You’re holding this ball to impress her.”

“Maman,” Adelaide couldn’t resist crying out.

The viscount pressed his lips together for a moment before replying. “There will be significant tax benefits to my doing this. I am motivated purely by financial reasons—and the duty someone in my position has to the town. Surely you understand that, Maman.”

That was all Paltier heard because the viscount signaled for him to remove the first course and bring the second. He had brought the under-waiters in to assist but decided on his way down to the kitchen that he would be bringing the food in himself while the family was discussing such confidential matters.

He remembered all this in the dusty wine room, and wondered if the chateau would once again see some of its former glory—the days when the young viscount’s father had held the seat. He picked his leather bag up from the wooden shelf, carefully shielding his selections and made his way up the stairs.

As he disappeared from view, a shadowed figure crept from one of the side rooms. He looked both ways to make sure he was unobserved, although he did not expect to be. He stuffed his roll of bedding in the closed space underneath the ancient unused heater where he knew it would not be discovered. Then he went to the door leading to the garden, took out his key and noiselessly slipped it in the lock, stepping out. The air was biting and it was dark, but he knew of a place where he could get a cup of hot coffee this early, even on New Year’s Eve.

Thomas was eating handfuls of popcorn, allowing stray kernels to fall on the floor. Nat King Cole’s Christmas album was playing in the background, although Christmas was over. It made the ambiance in Chastity’s apartment that much more cheerful. The decorations were still up, and the white lights on the tree emitted a soft, cozy light.

Thomas took a break from eating popcorn. “Papa, what did you do to celebrate New Year’s when you were in prison?”

Marc was sitting on the couch with Thomas settled at his feet. He glanced down at his son. “There wasn’t much of a celebration. Christmas was better because we had good food to eat, and even a couple of gifts if we were lucky. The guards weren’t exactly going to let us stay up late and have a party on New Year’s. That would get too rowdy.” He grinned and tousled the boy’s hair.

“I bet you’re glad to be here celebrating with us, aren’t you?” Thomas smiled up at him, and put his hand back into the popcorn.

Chastity went towards the kitchen, bringing the dessert dishes with her. She wasn’t precisely nervous, but she wasn’t completely comfortable either. She checked her reflection in the mirror that hung in the small dining room. The black cardigan she wore, with shiny black sequins sewn into it, caught the light and set off her auburn hair.

Satisfied, she went into the kitchen and set the dishes down, exhaling as she leaned against the counter. Marc appeared in the doorway. “Can I help with the dishes?”

“No, no, that’s fine,” she protested.

“I insist.” He grabbed the heavy meat platter and set it in the sink. She wasn’t exactly a maniac about cleanliness, but even she could see that the cold water wasn’t going to cut through the grease. She would have to wash the dishes again.

She busied herself with putting the plates in the dishwasher, and they worked in silence.

“Chassy,” Marc said, using the old nickname. “Thanks so much for allowing me to be part of your evening. It means a lot to me.”

“I’m glad you could come,” Chastity replied, not quite lying. Her own feelings were a mystery to her. Marc picked up the ceramic bowl that had held the potatoes and began drying it with a towel. He stared at her, and when he set the bowl down, she finally looked up at him. “What?”

His expression was intent. “Do you think there’s any chance of us…” He trailed away uncertainly.

Her mouth opened in surprise. She should have noticed his feelings had shifted, but she hadn’t been paying attention. She had only been trying to figure out what her own feelings were.

“Marc, I don’t know.” She shook her head. “It’s been a long time and we have both changed a lot.”

“What I want,” he responded, “is to start fresh—as the people we have become. Create a new story.”

“I still don’t feel like I know you.” She laughed without humor. “Honestly, I’m not even sure I know myself.”

“Maybe we could start by spending more time together,” he said. “I think nothing would make Thomas happier.”

Chastity, flushing at what she viewed as presumption on his part, walked over to peek into the living room. Thomas was now lying on the couch, and though he was awake, his eyes were glazed and he seemed to be just about to drop off. The clock showed three minutes to midnight.

Marc sensed her anger and folded his arms. “I’m sorry. I don’t know the right thing to say here.”

Chastity turned back towards him, softened by his admission. “I’m sorry too. I need time. There’s just no way to rush this—there’s too much history between us.”

He stood silently, facing her, and nodded. The mood shifted and Chastity was able to breathe. She was about to propose they go in to celebrate the countdown when Marc grabbed her by the arms and planted a soft kiss on her lips.

“Happy New Year, Chassy.” He gave her a small smile then walked into the living room.