A Bordeaux Dynasty: A Novel

by Françoise Bourdin

  Jules shrugged, knowing he’d be wasting his time trying to explain things that Robert couldn’t understand. He sat on his bed and sighed. He was completely spent. He knew that Aurélien would have a hard time forgiving him for bringing up his origins, his birth. He’d broken their tacit pact of silence about that taboo subject.

  Robert sat next to Jules and said, “It’s the same as before. You always find a way to make him go nuts. … Lie down, I’m going to take a look at you. I wouldn’t be surprised if you had bronchitis. … You’re so much alike, both of you! Why did he get so mad just now? Did it have to do with that girlfriend of his?”

  Jules produced a bitter laugh.

  “In a way. … The necklace he gave her used to belong to Mom. I think it’s unacceptable to see that pearl necklace on Frédérique.”

  “You said that to him? Good for you! Either he wants to piss us off or, contrary to what he thinks, he really is getting senile. Okay, cough. …”

  Jules produced something like a grunt, and right away it turned into a terrible coughing fit.

  “Oh yeah,” Robert said. “A nice case of bronchitis. I’ll get some antibiotics for you tomorrow. In the meantime, take a couple of aspirins and try to sleep.”

  Jules nodded and settled under the covers. Robert turned off the light and left the room. Jules lay there. He was cold and wasn’t thinking about anything, too tired to try to make sense of things.

  When he woke up, his bedside lamp was on and Aurélien, sitting next to the bed, was watching him. Jules tried to sit up.

  “Take it easy,” his father said. “Want me to call Auber over?”

  Jules closed his eyes, feeling dizzy. “No,” he said. “Bob is fine.”

  Aurélien nodded. “Okay,” he said. “As you wish.”

  Jules dared to look at his father. He hesitated and said, “I’m sorry Aurélien. I really am.”

  An awkward silence followed, and Jules had to continue, “I really don’t know what else to say—”

  Aurélien interrupted him, but without hostility. “About Lucie’s necklace, let me explain.”

  “You do what you want to do,” Jules said, hastily. “I was wrong. It’s no business of mine. I don’t know what possessed me.”

  Aurélien shrugged. His son had such a pathetic look about him. “Listen, Jules. Until now, women haven’t really counted, right? Now that you have Laurène and I have …”

  He didn’t end his sentence, and there was another moment of silence. After a while, he added, “They’re changing us, looks like. … I just hope they don’t put a wedge between us. …”

  His eyes wandered around the room. He didn’t come in here very often.

  “There was something else you wanted to know about, correct?”

  Jules shuddered. He knew that Aurélien was referring to his birth.

  “Please …” he said.

  “There are things you want to learn?”

  “No. Never. …”

  Aurélien got to his feet with a grunt.

  “Because of you,” he said, “I feel old tonight.”

  Jules grabbed his sleeve, just like he had when he was a child.

  “Thanks for coming up,” he said. “I don’t know how I would’ve been able to face you in the morning.”

  “I came up to apologize for hitting you. And also to ask you a question.”

  Jules let go of his father, instinctively sensing a trap.

  “Why did you kiss Frédérique?”

  Aurélien was already heading for the door, as though he didn’t care about the answer.

  “Because she’s beautiful,” Jules said behind him.

  Robert waited for the following day to talk to his brothers. He went over to the Little House with Louis-Marie. Alex was by himself in the house, as the kids were at Fonteyne with their mother, playing with the Christmas presents they’d found under the tree. Robert told them about the previous night’s altercation and Louis-Marie, usually so calm and collected, was first to react.

  “Unbelievable!” he said. “He’s really losing it. He gave his girlfriend one of Mom’s necklaces and he slapped Jules! He must think he’s still young and we’re all kids again. How did Jules react?”

  “As you would imagine—half rage, half submission. I’m never going to figure out his relationship with Dad.”

  Alexandre made a gesture of exasperation that surprised both his brothers.

  “Jules and his ‘I’m so grateful’ bit. He made his adoption into some sort of life-long debt. He’s going to feel like he owes Aurélien till the end of time, and he forces himself to be perfect. It’s so damn tiresome!”

  Alex slammed the coffee pot down on the table. Robert and Louis-Marie glanced at each other.

  “Once in a while he gets in his face, he taunts him a bit, but he’d never really go too far. …”

  Alex interrupted himself, suddenly realizing that his brothers were gawking at him. He gave them an apologetic smile.

  “Sorry,” he said. “But there are days when Jules wears me out even more than Dad. The necklace story is awful, I agree, and Aurélien could’ve given her anything else. But it doesn’t mean that he’s going to marry her or anything like that. …”

  Robert got up and patted Alex’s shoulder in a friendly way.

  “I’m sure you’re right,” he said. “I’m going to Bordeaux. See you guys in a bit.”

  Louis-Marie followed him outside. They walked in silence to the garage, then Louis-Marie decided to go into town with his brother. They said nothing, but both were thinking more about Alex’s bitterness than their father’s lover.

  Christmas Day was uneventful. Jules didn’t come down for breakfast, and Aurélien tried to lighten the atmosphere by playing with the children. He managed to put up with toys being scattered all over the place and the kids’ shouts of joy for a good part of the afternoon, and then he took refuge in the library. In order to avoid Frédérique’s presence, the brothers hung out in Jules’s room. Jules kept coughing under the covers, and Fernande was bringing him a hot drink every half-hour.

  On the morning of December 26, it was even colder outside. Laurène was first to wake up and, leaning on her elbow, she watched Jules sleep. She grazed his cheek and his hand, happy to see that his fever was gone. He’d tossed and turned a lot during the night. He was thirsty, and then he said he wanted to make love to her, then he coughed for a long time, then he asked for water again. They ended up turning off the lights, and after that, he fell into a deep and calm slumber.

  Laurène looked at Jules’s shoulders, his curly brown hair, a bit too long, his olive skin. She wondered, for the thousandth time since first knowing him, who he was and where he came from, without asking, as she was well aware of Fonteyne’s rules.

  She turned to the side and took in her surroundings. This room was much too big for a bedroom. Many times Fernande had told her that when Jules was little, he was afraid to sleep in this room and often ended up in one of his brother’s rooms. Laurène tried to picture Jules when he was a child. She could still see him, following Aurélien around like a pup, silent and serious. She remembered that, as a kid, she’d lost sight of him for a few years when he was in boarding school in Bordeaux. But in Laurène’s world, there had always been, in the background, the Laverzac family. They existed in the envy and admiration with which Antoine talked about Aurélien and his vineyards, about Fonteyne, about his four sons. When she was hired by Aurélien, it was a dream come true for Laurène.

  Aurélien … That old charmer. Everybody was afraid of him, but Laurène liked him a lot. She didn’t approve of Frédérique, but couldn’t see her as anything more than a lost girl, a bit like she’d been herself some time ago. The happiness she experienced with Jules blinded her to the point of forgiveness.

  She slipped out of bed, put on a bathrobe, and walked over to the window. Fonteyne was still shrouded in darkness, though there was a hint of light on the horizon, the early hours frigid, a bit oppressive.

 
She tiptoed out of the room and went down to the kitchen to make some coffee. Fernande was already there, sitting at the end of one of the long table’s benches. Right away she proposed to prepare a breakfast tray for Jules and asked how he was doing. He was so rarely sick that the old woman was terribly upset. Laurène tried to put her mind at ease and began to butter some pieces of toast. Frédérique’s unexpected arrival in the kitchen surprised her. The young woman looked annoyed to find people in the kitchen this early in the morning, and she sat at the other end of the table. In a low voice she said that Aurélien was in his office and wanted his tray, and Fernande got to work immediately. Used to the family’s hostility, Frédérique ate without saying a word, and it was Laurène who went over to her to engage in conversation. Fernande, who was observing her from the corner of her eye, raised her shoulders. Laurène’s naïveté was part of her charm, no doubt, but now she was betraying the others.

  Fernande hurried over to Aurélien’s office. To her great surprise, she found Jules there, completely dressed and chatting with his father. She put the tray down and left discreetly.

  Aurélien waited until she shut the door to say, “I saw Antoine yesterday. Of course, he agrees with everything.”

  There was a minute trace of contempt in his voice.

  “Springtime would be good for everybody,” he continued. “You and Laurène can pick the date. It goes without saying that the reception will be held here. I also insist that you guys sign a prenuptial agreement.”

  Jules agreed with a nod of the head. No one, not even Laurène, could pretend to have any kind of claim to Fonteyne, not now, not ever.

  “As for the Mazion vineyards … we’re going to have to come up with a compromise eventually. …”

  Aurélien was speaking slowly, with caution.

  “Your brother seems to be in a hurry to leave and take care of things over there … for good. … But Antoine doesn’t seem to be ready to retire yet, and I don’t want Alex to go play second fiddle to his father-in-law. His place is right here. …”

  “I’m not so sure about that. …” Jules muttered.

  Their eyes met and they understood each other without having to add anything.

  “I took a gem out of the jewelry box, so you can have it mounted for Laurène’s ring. It’s the same as with Dominique and Pauline. Those were your mother’s pendants. There’s one left for when Robert decides to tie the knot.”

  Jules was looking out the window. He didn’t feel like talking about his mother’s jewels.

  “Are you listening to me, son?”

  “Yes, Aurélien.”

  Absentmindedly, he searched his pockets for cigarettes.

  “You’re not going to smoke,” Aurélien said. “Can’t you hear yourself cough? Put that pack away, will you?”

  Jules smiled. He was happy that nothing had changed between his father and him. They simply avoided talking about Frédérique.

  “I took a look at your budget forecast. Seems good to me. Make an appointment with the accountant to finalize all of it.”

  Pensive, Jules nodded.

  “I’m going to have to check the stakes out there today,” he said.

  “Oh no you won’t. If I let you out, that doctor brother of yours is going to be all over me. Rightfully so, too. There’s lots you can do from this office. Especially since I’m not going to be around for a while. I’m taking Frédérique to Bordeaux. You guys are so nasty toward her, she’s going to enjoy a little outing!”

  He was taunting Jules, who remained calm and silent.

  “Want me to make a reservation for two at the Chapon Fin?”

  Aurélien smiled and asked, “My love life isn’t upsetting you too much, cowboy?”

  Taken aback by such a direct question, Jules was unable to come up with an answer.

  “Anyway,” Aurélien said, “do not set foot outside. You hear me?”

  “Yes,” Jules answered in a soft voice.

  “All right then, have a good day, son.”

  “You too, Aurélien.”

  As his father left, Jules’s dog slipped into the office.

  Jules petted him and asked, “What are you doing here?”

  Louis-Marie wasn’t able to resist Pauline’s barrage of questions, so he told her everything. Sitting on the bed as she put on her lined boots, Pauline exclaimed, “One of his wife’s necklaces? A piece of jewelry that she’d had since she was a girl? That’s crazy. … And you guys aren’t going to do anything about it? What’ll be next? The vineyards?”

  Louis-Marie shrugged and said, “Come on, Pauline! One thing has nothing to do with the other. The vineyards, that’s sacred, but Dad doesn’t give a hoot about some old piece of jewelry.”

  “But it was your mother’s jewelry! You have to tell him that what he did was vile!”

  Louis-Marie gave his wife a smile.

  “I just told you that Jules tried to tell him that and—”

  “That’s right. I forgot about that! Getting slapped in the face at thirty, you think that’s normal? Go see your father and talk to him.”

  “About what?”

  Louis-Marie took Pauline in his arms. He thought she was adorable when angry.

  “We came here to fix things and we’re not fixing anything. Jules went about it the wrong way. …”

  “The wrong way! He’s the only one with any guts. He dared to speak his mind. He said what the four of you are thinking. And Aurélien treats him like a kid because he’s afraid.”

  Pensive, Louis-Marie kissed Pauline’s neck, but she tore herself from him.

  “Pauline … don’t turn this thing into high drama. They’ll wind up agreeing. As long as I can remember, whenever their disagreements are too hot to handle, they sweep them under the rug.”

  Once again, she pushed him away. She knew exactly what he had in mind, but she didn’t feel like it.

  “And the great mystery surrounding Jules’s adoption, are you sure you know nothing about it?”

  Surprised, Louis-Marie burst out laughing.

  “Oh yes! This was settled thirty years ago: Jules comes from nowhere. And no one questions that.”

  “Not even Jules himself?”

  “Especially him. His relationship with Dad is based on that silence, that ambiguity. It’s as though each of them wanted to punish the other for something. Or both are feeling guilty about something. …”

  “But that’s so bourgeois! Everybody keeps things hidden, secret. Everybody acts as if everything were normal while there’s this huge scandal simmering underneath. I know the mentality. And then, how could he think he could get away with bringing Frédérique into such a self-righteous world?”

  Louis-Marie felt vaguely hurt by Pauline’s obvious contempt for his family.

  “You’re the one with the bourgeois ideas, my darling,” he said. “Dad has himself a young and pretty lover, and he should hide it from people? As with everything else, he’s making folks envious.”

  She gave him a look of surprise.

  “You Laverzacs are weird,” she said before marching toward the door.

  “You’re going for a walk?”

  “Of course. I’m not going to the kitchen dressed this way. You’re not going to give me a kiss?”

  He went over to Pauline and took her in his arms. She rested her head against him. He was much taller than she was and she felt safe with him. She thought about Robert and felt like smiling. No man, even if he tried hard, could understand any woman, she was certain of that. She asked Louis-Marie for a cigarette, having decided to stay in the room a few more minutes.

  “Tell me, Louis-Marie,” she said, “you and your brothers were never jealous of Jules?”

  “Jealous? No. You can’t be jealous of what’s obvious. Besides, Dad’s excessive feelings for Jules didn’t seem very enviable to us. None of us would’ve had his patience, you know.”

  “You need more than patience to put up with being slapped in the face at his age,” Pauline said.

>   “What did you want him to do? Hit the old man back?”

  She laughed.

  “It’s really the Middle Ages around here. I wonder why I love Fonteyne.”

  “You love it?”

  “Yes, obviously. I also love your brothers and even that tyrant Aurélien. And then, this castle …”

  “Really?”

  She snuggled against him.

  “What about Robert?” Louis-Marie asked. “You love him, too?”

  He’d managed to ask the question with a calm voice, but she still didn’t fall into his trap and said, “Of course! I like him a lot.”

  Jules had remained standing for a long time, a pile of bills in hand. Among them, he’d found one sent from an unusual merchant. The letterhead had caught his attention: ‘Jewelry—Ancient, Original, Facsimile.’ It was obviously Frédérique’s pearl necklace. Jules could’ve kicked himself.

  He never would’ve given his wife’s necklace to a lover! he thought. I’m such an idiot. … But did he buy this piece of jewelry to flatter Frédérique or to provoke us?

  Slowly, he sat behind the desk, took out a checkbook from the top drawer, and began paying bills, including the one from the jeweler. Then he opened the trunk, for which he’d had the key for the past ten years. On the top shelf was a row of old boxes that contained all of Lucie’s jewelry. Jules hesitated. He’d never touched those dark-colored velour boxes. He changed his mind and shut the trunk.

  Just then Laurène came into the office.

  “How are you feeling?” she asked, lovingly. “You slept so little. … Here, why don’t you put this on?”

  She handed him a sweater, which he slipped into.

  “I chatted with Frédérique this morning,” she said. “I thought she was nice. … Pauline talks to her like she’s a dog, and Fernande ignores her. Even my sister doesn’t give her the time of day.”

  Jules found it surprising that Laurène would sympathize with Frédérique, but he decided not to comment.

  “There are a bunch of checks to mail out,” he said instead. “Can you take care of it?”

  He picked the jeweler’s bill off the top of the desk and put it in his pocket.

  “What about you?” he asked. “Do you find Aurélien attractive?”