Chapter 24

24

I t was all over the headlines, and Charles loathed to see his name attached to it. He had stopped off at a café while meeting his lawyer in Paris, and it was the cover photo that caught his eye. When he was finished reading, he threw the paper down in disgust. Thankfully he was in this anonymous city and not in Maisons-Laffitte where everyone knew who he was. As soon as he got home, he called her, anxious to put an end to things.

“Charles, Charles—” sobbed a distraught Manon. “It’s not what you think. You have to give me a chance to explain. I can’t believe I did such a stupid thing. We’re so good together—let’s give us another chance.”

“Manon, please don’t. It’s over.” Charles was walking briskly to inspect the Cabinet des Mirroirs in the chateau, whose multitude of tiny windowpanes he had ordered to be cleaned.

She gave a small sob over the telephone. “But we’re so happy together.” At this, he stopped short, and sighed.

“Manon, we’re not happy together. If we were, you wouldn’t be having an affair.” He exhaled. “The truth is, it’s not just you. I’ve known for some time that this wouldn’t work out, and I should have told you sooner. I just…didn’t want to hurt you.” He cringed at the cliché.

She took an audible breath and let it out. When she spoke, her voice dripped acid. “I suppose there’s no reason to beg.” She waited to see if he would respond, and when he didn’t, ended with a simple, “Goodbye, Charles.” The line went dead.

He started walking again, his shoes clicking on the parquet in the echoing rooms. He wished he had time to process this before the students came over to his house later—with Chastity. But he was glad he had ended it with Manon and found his steps were lighter.

“Paltier,” he called out, having spotted the balding head of his faithful servant as he headed downstairs out of sight. The butler walked back up a couple of steps and peered up. “The wine list you handed me is good. I assume you’ve already placed the order with your brother? I’m sorry it took me so long to approve it, but you know I trust your taste implicitly.”

“Yes, monsieur. The orders have been placed, and the cases will arrive by next weekend.”

“What would I do without you?” Since it was clear his employer didn’t expect an answer, Paltier didn’t give one.

When the doorbell rang, indicating that the dancing teacher had arrived, Charles asked Paltier to show him to the gallery and offer him refreshments while he went in search of his son. He found him coming out of his room, scrubbed clean. “I was just coming to get you.”

“I’m ready.” His son’s face was brighter than his father had seen in some time.

“I’m glad you’re up for this,” his father said. “I wasn’t sure you’d be too keen on learning to dance the waltz.”

“I don’t want to be the only one who can’t.” His son led the way down the stairs.

“Of course,” Charles murmured. He followed in his son’s wake, the corner of his mouth lifting.

When they reached the gallery, Charles greeted the dancing teacher, adding, “This is my son, Louis.” The elderly man stood gracefully and walked over to Louis and bowed. Louis bent loosely at the waist and flopped back up again.

“ Non, non, jeune homme. Comme ?a. ” The dancing teacher once again executed a perfect bow and snapped upright. Louis imitated him more seriously this time. “Bravo” was his reward.

The deep chimes of the doorbell sounded again, and Paltier was already on his way to answer it. Charles, unable to stay in place, followed him to the head of the stairs. A group of students poured in, laughing and chattering. Some fell silent when they took in the magnificent staircase. Louis walked over, and his father could see he was searching the crowd for someone in particular.

“Bonjour, Madame James.” Charles welcomed the flustered English teacher, whose stout frame was at the head of the students advancing up the stairs towards the ballroom gallery. “I see you’ve gathered everyone in advance?”

“Yes, we thought it would be better than ringing your doorbell every five minutes.” She was slightly out of breath as she walked to the top of the stairs. “I hope it’s okay that I invited another teacher as a chaperone.”

Charles glanced at the wiry, gray-haired man, herding the last of the students at the bottom of the stairs. There was no one behind him. “What an excellent idea,” he said, distracted. “Is Mademoiselle Whitmore not coming?”

“Oh, she’ll be here soon enough, but she’s driving because it’s too far for her son to walk.”

“Of course.” Charles’s shoulders relaxed, and he took the stairs two at a time on his way up.

Louis, meanwhile, went straight over to Eloise Prynne and offered to show her some of the apartments on the first floor.

“You look…clean,” she said, laughing, when they were out of earshot.

Louis flushed with indignation. “I’m always clean. I take a shower every day.”

“Aw, that’s not what I meant.” She grinned, her expression kind. “You look clean, like, not on any drugs and not smelling like smoke. I like you like this.”

“Oh.” The two were walking down the long stretch of hallway, and Louis forgot he was supposed to be pointing things out to her. He watched her admire the antique furniture and beautiful architecture. On her left, through the small pane-glass windows, the fountain spouted water in graceful arcs, as the sounds of birds chirping reached them.

“I’m going to tell my dad about the drugs,” he said, breaking into her quiet observation. “We’re going to Pontchateau next weekend for the races, and we’ll have time together there. I know if I talk to him about it he’ll make sure it stops.”

“Good.” She faced him earnestly. “That’s good news.”

“Will you come to the ball with me?” He blurted out the words before he could think of what he was saying and blushed furiously as soon as they were out.

She gave a dimpled smile, and her own cheeks were tinged pink. “I’d love to, but I’ve already told Pierce I’d go with him.” When Louis’s face fell, she added, “We’re just friends.”

Louis had seen the way Pierce looked at her and doubted it was friendship he wanted. He didn’t know what to say, so he turned back dumbly without having shown her anything at all.

“Louis, I’d be delighted to dance with you, however.” Her little nose wrinkled as she smiled. “If you’ll ask me.”

“Have you promised Pierce that you’d be his partner today?”

“M-mm.” She shook her head, waiting.

“Maybe I could practice with you. But I don’t really know how to dance.”

“Me neither. We’ll learn together.”

“Your father’s asking to come visit you while I’m at work and take you for a short walk. Do you want that, honey?” Chastity and Thomas were in their small car, about to turn into the chateau.

“No.”

“Oh.” Chastity was taken aback by the blunt refusal. This was news to her, but she didn’t press the issue because she had driven through the iron gates and her beat-up Volkswagon was crunching over the pebbled driveway.

As soon as she stepped out of the car and lifted her face, she gasped. The chateau was immense, particularly when viewed from this close up. “Oh, dear. This old car is out of place here.” She went around to open her son’s door, and they made slow progress to the front entrance.

When she rang the bell, she saw Charles through the glass panes, jogging ahead of the butler down the stairs.

“Chastity.” He took her by the arms and gave her two kisses, one on each cheek. Before she could recover from her surprise, he reached out for Thomas’s hand and shook it gravely. “I’m glad to see you looking so well, Thomas.”

“Let me take your coat, madame.” The butler, who had been right behind Charles, stepped up to her, and she handed him her raincoat.

“Thomas, have you said hello?” she prodded.

“Bonjour, docteur. Bonjour, monsieur,” he said, addressing the butler.

Charles leaned down and whispered, “This is Mr. Paltier and he can help you with anything you need. Standing, he coaxed, “Shall we go up? Thomas, do you need help?”

“No, thank you,” was the dignified response, and the group walked unhurriedly up the steps so he would not be left behind.

Charles pointed over to the corner where a sofa had been placed with books and toys. “This is where you’re going to sit, Thomas. You see the screen there? We can ask Mr. Paltier to pull the screen if all the movement starts to hurt your head, okay? If the noise is too much, we’ll find a quieter place for you next door.”

“I didn’t even think of that.” Chastity’s eyes darted up to Charles. “Thank you.” She watched Mr. Paltier observing the viscount as he walked the boy over to the sofa in the corner. It seemed the retainer’s keen eyes missed nothing.

“Ladies and gentlemen.” The dance instructor clapped loudly. “Find your partners and get into position.” He was destined to be interrupted once more as the bell chimed. This time, the viscount did not rush down the stairs, and Paltier moved quickly from Thomas’s side to the entrance. The teenagers chattered and laughed nervously at standing so close to their partners. When Paltier returned, he was followed by the young intern from the hospital. Chastity glanced at Charles, her expression a question, but he gave no explanation.

Noting the new arrival, the instructor called out, “What young lady does not yet have a partner?”

A student with a thick mane of black hair stepped away from her classmate and walked over to Dr. Okonkwo. “This lady doesn’t.”

“Fatima,” was heard, amidst laughter. The teenage boy, who had just been dismissed, put his hands on his hips.

“You can share Becky.” Fatima tossed her hair off her shoulder and smiled at Dr. Okonkwo. He looked amused, and a little trapped.

“Fatima, may I remind you that you are seventeen, and he is an adult.” Margaret James’s voice rang out from the middle of the dance floor.

“Seventeen is almost an adult,” Fatima retorted as her classmates laughed. She smiled up at Dr. Okonkwo seductively.

“I am sorry to tell you, Fatimah, but I’m nearly certain he is already taken,” Charles teased on the other side of her. Louis looked up in astonishment to hear his father joke with one of his classmates. Then he saw his father standing next to Chastity, and she thought she saw a slow comprehension steal over him.

The dance teacher resumed his lesson. “Gentlemen, you’ll want to place your hand between the shoulder blades of your partner. Keep your elbow level with your shoulder.” He demonstrated with his hands in the air. “Ladies, rest your hand on your partner’s shoulder. This will help you sense where he’s leading. Put your other hand lightly in your partner’s outstretched hand. Like so. Very good,” he added, as he observed the couples forming obediently.

Charles had his hand on Chastity’s back, and her free hand was clasped in his outstretched one. They stood still while the instructor gave instructions for the steps, and she was conscious of his nearness. She could feel him looking at her, but she refused to meet his gaze.

“Chastity,” he said. “I’ve been meaning to ask if you will come to the ball with me.”

At this, she did look up, startled. She trembled in his hands. “But you are with… ” Chastity stopped speaking. She had not missed the gossip about Manon’s affair.

“I’m not with Manon. Trust me, it was over before this incident happened with Bruce Richards. I should have ended it sooner.”

“Oh.” She tried to buy herself some time. “I’m missing the instructions.” The dance teacher droned on, and the partners around them began to move.

“Just follow my lead,” Charles said. “You can’t go wrong.” His silence allowed her time to recover her composure while he led her gently in the most basic steps of the waltz. She peeked up at him again, and he chose that moment to lean down and murmur in her ear, his face warm against hers, “Don’t worry. I’m wearing thick shoes.”

She chuckled, and felt herself relax. He pressed again. “Will you come?”

“I don’t know,” she said. “Thomas…”

“I’ve thought of that,” Charles said quietly. “If there was any chance he would enjoy it, I’d find a way for him to come and hire someone to help watch him. The truth is, the crowds and the noise won’t be good for him. Do you think you can find someone you trust to watch him?”

“Mmm,” she stalled. She was awkward and stiff in his arms, and he pulled her closer.

“There’s his father,” he offered—with a grimace, she noticed.

“Yes, but I haven’t decided how much a part of Thomas’s life he’s allowed to have, and I’m uncomfortable leaving him alone with him,” she hemmed. Charles was continuing to watch her attentively, spinning her in keeping with the dance teacher’s instructions.

“Oh, why not.” Chastity smiled, then laughed suddenly. “All right, I’ll come. I’d love to be your date for the ball.”

“That’s a relief.” Charles kept a straight face, but the muscles in his handsome mouth quivered. “Otherwise I’d have been obliged to ask Ms. James.”