Jules smiled at him, a bit disoriented. Then he went over to the fireplace, where his brothers were chatting. He didn’t feel like thinking about the future.
“Remember the year you worked as Santa Claus in that store in Bordeaux?” Alex asked him, giggling.
“Oh yes!” Jules said. “What a story!”
The memory of that episode from his adolescence made Jules laugh.
“And when Dad learned about it,” Louis-Marie said for Pauline’s sake, “he had a cow. And then he gave us a bigger allowance!”
“Careful over there,” Aurélien said from across the room, “I can hear you! You guys were impossible when you were young!”
“Same as you,” Louis-Marie grumbled between clenched teeth, and only his brothers heard him.
They all burst out laughing and took a look at their father. Surrounded by Frédérique and Laurène, he seemed just as cheerful as they were.
“Tell me, Jules …”
Alex pulled his brother aside. He was smiling, but Jules could tell it wasn’t sincere.
“When are you going to play Santa Claus with me?” he asked.
Intrigued, Jules stared at his brother.
Alex was making an obvious effort to speak his mind.
“Free me from this place,” he said. “I don’t think I can last another year.”
Though Alex had been clumsy with his words, Jules knew exactly what he’d meant to say.
“I know you want to leave Fonteyne, Alex, but I’m not the one who can authorize it. You have to speak to Aurélien.”
“You know very well what he’s going to say.”
“Yes. … You really want to go play second fiddle at your father-in-law’s?”
“Better that than fifth wheel here!”
He’d raised his voice, and Aurélien glanced at them.
Jules carefully looked at his brothers, who ended up lowering their eyes.
“Mazion’s vines … Come on, Alex! You can’t be serious. You’re here at Fonteyne, in the Margaux region, and you’re a Laverzac! You can try to ignore that, but you can’t ask me to do the same.”
Jules spoke in a low voice but weighed every word. Alex, embarrassed, put a hand on Jules’s arm, but he jerked it free. After one last glare, Jules turned away and said, “You’re pathetic.”
He didn’t see the hateful expression that, furtively, appeared on his brother’s face.
The next morning, Frédérique couldn’t bring herself to get out of her warm bed. She simply lay there, letting her mind wander. The previous night, Aurélien had come over to spend a moment with her. He hadn’t talked about the Bordeaux incident, hadn’t mentioned that brother of hers that had materialized out of thin air. He’d simply asked her if she still liked it here at Fonteyne. He was so kind and caring that Frédérique was beginning to feel real tenderness for him.
She stretched, yawned, then thought of Jules and Laurène’s engagement, which would be announced that evening. She had no way of preventing it. After that, in the summertime, with Jules being married …
She got out of bed suddenly. Jules … His gypsy looks, his swagger, his timid and charming smiles … Aurélien, he was Jules in twenty or thirty years. …
There was a knock on the door.
“Come in!”
“We’re going to Bordeaux at ten,” Laurène said. “Want to come along?”
Frédérique, not without some bitterness, realized that the only person that actually behaved half-decently toward her was her rival.
“No thanks. That’s very nice of you …”
Laurène sat on the side of the bed and smiled at Frédérique, who was getting dressed.
“They’re not very nice to you, are they?”
Frédérique feigned indifference.
“You have to understand where they’re coming from,” Laurène pleaded. “It’s their father. … And they adore him so much! Especially Jules. …”
Frédérique turned to Laurène sharply. “But I’ve done nothing to hurt Aurélien! All they care about is their inheritance!”
Since Laurène hadn’t shut the door, they heard Aurélien coming their way. Caught off guard, Laurène stood up and left the bedroom. She ran right into Aurélien in the hallway. If he was surprised to see her come out of Frédérique’s room, he didn’t let it show. However, he started to walk with her.
“How’s my future daughter-in-law doing?” he asked.
“I’m great! I love Jules, I love Fonteyne, and I love you, too!”
“My, what a declaration!” Aurélien said, laughing. “That makes me happy. You know you’ve always had a special place in my heart.”
He took her arm and she felt uncomfortable.
“You have Frédérique now,” she said, “and …”
Aurélien stopped walking, and Laurène understood that she’d put her foot in her mouth. He hated people snooping in his private life, and for a moment she’d forgotten.
“I mean,” she mumbled, “that I’m happy she’s here, for you. …”
“Well, you’re the only one,” he said, harshly.
They wound up in the vast entrance hall and were blinded by the morning sun. Aurélien, not bothering to say anything else to Laurène, hurried over to his office.
Late afternoon, Jules came back from Bordeaux, where he’d bought Laurène a dress. In a certain way, he felt guilty. He made love to her with the same enthusiasm, he was very attentive to her needs, but he wasn’t passionately in love with her, and he knew it. Wholeheartedly set on keeping his promise and unable to even conceive of doing otherwise, he was almost relieved at the idea that he was getting engaged that very evening.
She seemed delighted at what he’d bought her. The dress looked great on her. Jules, just like Aurélien, instinctively knew what to buy women. He got ready quickly and went downstairs ahead of almost everybody else. Unlike most of the time, he was elegantly dressed and had even gotten a haircut.
“Who are you trying to impress?” Robert asked Jules when he saw him enter the main living room.
Jules smiled and said, “You don’t look so bad yourself, Doc. And I know who you’re trying to impress.”
The joke didn’t make Robert laugh. He was about to say something, but was interrupted when Frédérique walked into the room. She wore a black shirt with a plunging neckline embroidered with silver silk, and a short black satin skirt. The only jewelry she wore was the pearl necklace Aurélien had given her. She was so beautiful, so sensual, that Jules and Robert couldn’t take their eyes off her.
Laurène and Dominique’s arrival didn’t eclipse Frédérique’s presence. Not even Pauline, though she was beautiful in her white satin draped gown. Aurélien also seemed struck by the young woman’s irresistible appearance.
The guests finally began to arrive, following a sort of natural order. Laurène’s grandmother, old Mrs. Billot, was very imposing in her large wheelchair. She was, as on every visit to Fonteyne, dumbfounded to be treated as a friend in the Laverzac household. Well aware of the region’s traditions and codes, she knew that the two families were not on the same social level. The fact that her two granddaughters were going to be married to Laverzac boys was incredible to her. Jules and Alexandre, with everything their names and Fonteyne represented! She actually thought that Antoine was insane to have almost burned his bridges with Aurélien the previous fall.
All the while, Mr. Varin reunited with Frédérique with great joy. He missed her company and her competence as a secretary.
Aurélien leaned toward Jules and whispered the table plan he had in mind, “Laurène will sit beside you, of course, and we’ll put Varin and Pauline side by side …”
They chuckled.
“And look at Auber,” Aurélien said, “the way he’s eyeing Frédérique. Good thing I have them sitting next to each other. He’s going to have a nice evening. What about you, son? Do you think you’re going to have a nice evening?”
Intrigued by his father’s question, Jules only gave a
nod.
“You’re certain? I don’t want you to have any regrets, someday. …”
“Regrets?”
“We’re going to talk about your wedding tonight, you know.”
“Yes. And that’s fine.”
Ill at ease, Jules avoided Aurélien’s gaze.
“You’re not telling me much, son, and so I’m trying to read into things. …”
“Aurélien …”
“What? You think I’m a fool? An old fool?”
“Aurélien!”
“Stop saying my name like that. You can’t expect me to be an emergency escape in this story.”
“What story?”
“This story,” Aurélien said, gesturing at the entire living room. “Women …”
He looked at Jules, waiting for a response.
“Everything is fine, Aurélien,” Jules muttered.
“Okay. I wanted to give you a way out, cowboy. You want me to be more explicit? To call a spade a spade? You and me, we often played around with women … but you do realize that this is for life, right? And so … And so, if it’s my lover you want, instead of your fiancée …”
Aurélien’s tone was harsh, but his voice low. He put a hand on Jules’s shoulder, as though he wanted him to stay put.
“No!”
Jules answered too quickly. They shot each other angry looks. Then Jules lowered his head, fumbling for something to say. His father paralyzed him as much as the question he’d asked.
Aurélien sighed, and then said, “You’re not sure, I can tell.”
He was friendly again, and Jules relaxed.
“Anyway, Aurélien …” he started, but didn’t finish his sentence.
“Anyway, yes, as you say. Now that we’ve reached this point, we have to go ahead. … Well, you do. …”
Smiling in spite of everything, Jules whispered, “I’d like you to come with me to Bordeaux, before my wedding, for my bachelor party.”
Aurélien burst into such a loud laugh that everyone in the room turned his way.
“Good idea, son! You bet I’ll be there!”
A bit later, when everybody was at the table, the conversation became very animated. Sitting beside Pauline, Mr. Varin was quite talkative and gallant. Since he was not too far from Aurélien, he tried to engage in a conversation with him as well. As he was privy to information regarding the new status of the Laverzac estate and the details of Aurélien’s will, he couldn’t help paying obvious attention to Jules, seeing him as not only Fonteyne’s successor, but its real head.
“I had lunch with Captain Vanier the day before yesterday,” he told Jules, “and I can tell you he’s still preoccupied with that incident, you know …”
“I’m sure he is,” Jules said with indifference.
“You see,” the notary continued, “I think it’s a shame for Frédérique’s brother. Those young people, when you think about the way they were raised.”
“What way?” Pauline asked, always on the lookout for gossip.
“Well … in all that luxury. You don’t know the story? Auber didn’t tell you? Their father was a surgeon, in Lyon. A man of great renown, from an old medical dynasty. But he gambled. … Lost all his money. It was a real vice. And his wife committed suicide. When I learned that Frédérique was looking for work, I hired her. I’d been their notary and they had to sell everything—almost everything—to pay for the old man’s debts. A terrible situation. …”
“What about the father, the surgeon?” Pauline asked, her eyes glittering with excitement. “What happened to him?”
“He moved to Australia. He didn’t get along with his children after his wife’s death. Frédérique is fine, very courageous, but her brother started to drink and hang out with the wrong crowd. … The kid never told you about any of this?”
Jules, who’d taken all of this in, answered, slowly, “No, she didn’t say. … It’s her right. …”
“Of course,” Varin said. “But it does look like she’s enjoying herself here at Fonteyne. You can’t blame her. This house is sublime. …”
He glanced around the room, in awe, and then added, “Of course, people say stupid things. You can never escape gossip. When Frédérique worked for me, it was the same. There’s nothing you can do about it, and that’s what I told your father. …”
Jules and Pauline glanced at each other. Annoyed by what he’d just heard, he made an effort to change the topic.
Vodka was served, to go along with the smoked salmon. Aurélien stood and gestured at his guests. Silence fell in the room.
“I have great news, everybody,” Aurélien said with a benevolent smile. “We will have the great joy of witnessing Jules and Laurène’s wedding in the spring. This decision brings our families even closer. Let’s drink to their health.”
Jules took the engagement ring out of his breast pocket and offered it to Laurène. He kissed her and raised his glass to Marie and Aurélien. He felt happy, though not as happy as he would’ve expected a few months earlier. His gaze met Frédérique’s. Her beautiful eyes were filled with sadness. He thought of the Bordeaux hotel room where they’d spent the night together. Not even a night, just a few hours. He wondered if she was also thinking about it.
Robert was observing his brother.
All this will end badly, he thought. No one around this table is happy about their fate, deep down. Alex is upset, and Jules isn’t sure he’s doing the right thing because he knows full well that he might’ve mistaken passion for love, jealousy for desire … If I hadn’t had that fling with Laurène … And the way he looks at Frédérique …
“Hey Doc, you daydreaming?”
Louis-Marie, across the table from him, was smiling.
“You’re going to be the family’s last bachelor. Is that what you were thinking about?”
“No,” Robert said. “I was thinking of Jules’s effect on women. They all adore him. He’s going to have a hard time choosing one. …”
“But he already chose someone!” Louis-Marie said, looking horrified.
Robert gave him an indecipherable look. He felt old, bitter, almost out of place. Jules, seemingly okay now, cheerfully chatted with the person sitting next to him. Antoine didn’t drink much, his heart condition in mind. Fernande and Clothilde were outstanding, as usual. As for Frédérique, her eyes never left Jules.
Come midnight, everybody kissed and wished each other a happy New Year. Then all the guests went over to the living room for some champagne. Jules sat next to Frédérique on a sofa.
Not sure how to broach the topic, Jules said, “Mr. Varin was talking about you earlier …”
Frédérique was on the defensive immediately.
“He shouldn’t have. It’s ancient history. …”
“You never felt like telling us about it?”
“Why? Does it bother you that I belong to the same social level as you, Jules?”
“Come on, Frédérique, nobody here judged you because they thought you weren’t in the same class.”
“So why did you want to talk to me about it? What does Varin’s ‘revelation’ change? It explains my taste for luxury? My attraction to this house? It means that I’m actually looking for some sort of replacement for my father? That kind of junk?”
Her bitterness was spewing out, taking Jules by surprise.
“May I?” Aurélien asked. He was standing in front of them.
Right away, Jules wanted to get up, but Aurélien said, “Stay right there, son.”
Aurélien sat between the two of them and put his arm around Frédérique, a gesture that was becoming a habit.
“Laurène is beaming,” he said with mischief.
He was nagging Jules. He knew him well enough to know that things weren’t perfect for his son on his engagement night.
As he got up, Jules let his eyes fall on Frédérique’s cleavage and saw that she wasn’t wearing a bra. Her skin was lovely, and he assumed that Aurélien was going to spend the night with her. He went ov
er to Laurène and smiled at her, though without real joy.
Marie took Jules’s spot next to Aurélien and gestured at the young couple.
“Laurène is so happy,” she whispered.
Aurélien gave her a friendly look. Antoine was getting on his nerves, but he liked Marie.
“You know,” he said, “she’s going to have to stand up to him a bit. … To be Jules’s wife won’t be a piece of cake all the time. Tell her that. You have to have a strong personality to compete with Fonteyne. He’s crazy about the land and the vines.”
The way Aurélien looked at Jules told of the pride he felt for his son. Marie, a bit surprised by what Aurélien had just said to her, promised herself to pass it on to her daughter.
Aurélien’s guests finally began to leave Fonteyne, reluctantly. It was very late when everyone went to bed. On the upstairs landing, Robert wished Louis-Marie and Pauline a good night. He watched them walk into their room and felt lonely. He was leaving the following morning. He’d be glad to get back to the hospital—just to be left alone.
Jules and Laurène arrived on the landing and bumped into Robert, laughing.
“Are you leaving us early tomorrow morning?”
“Very early.”
Robert took Jules by the neck and said, “Have a good winter, little bro.”
“You, too, Bob.”
They looked at each other, and then Jules guided Laurène toward his bedroom. As soon as the door was shut, he took her in his arms and carried her to the bed.
“Wait!” Laurène said, giggling. “My dress!”
Jules undressed her quickly, impatient to make love to her. He had things to settle with himself. Or something to prove. He needed to find something he’d lost. He made love to Laurène with wild abandon.
Aurélien was smiling, fulfilled. Frédérique was smoking a cigarette, sitting up in bed, still naked, whereas he’d put his clothes back on. She turned him on more and more, and he had no difficulty satisfying her, which flattered his ego.
Still smiling, he said, “You and I need to chat a little, with this new year starting …”
“Chat about what?”
“Your future. How do you picture it?”
A Bordeaux Dynasty: A Novel Page 30
