“Not outside no, but you can come down to the cellar with me a bit later on. I’m going to inspect the barrels. And then I’d like to look over something in the database with you. And then …”
“Stop it! What an insane workaholic you are. I want a day off. Just one!”
“Okay. You’re going to get Christmas off.”
He smiled but was only half-joking. Then he went back to the field to get Bingo.
“He’d go nuts if I left him in that box of his for more than a day or two,” he told Louis-Marie. “Give me five minutes to settle him back in there, and then you and I can go to Mazion to pick up Marie.”
“Mazion? Are you out of your freaking mind?”
“Bernard made it all the way to Bordeaux, didn’t he? You wouldn’t want that kid to put us to shame, would you?”
Louis-Marie accepted, grudgingly, to go along for the ride. It took two hours for them to finally reach the Billots’, where Marie greeted them with open arms. She insisted that Jules go up to see her mother-in-law, who wanted to congratulate him on her great-granddaughter’s birth. Going up the stairs, he ran into Antoine, who stood in his way.
“Where are you going?”
His words were harsh, almost hostile.
“To say hello to your mother, Antoine. But hello to you, too. …”
He’d used the same tone, and Antoine became downright angry.
“You have no business being in my house,” he said. “The last time I was at Fonteyne, I wasn’t made to feel very welcome if I remember correctly.”
Jules made a final effort to keep the encounter from turning into a fight, saying, “Laurène had her baby last night.”
“I know. Marie told me about it.”
“Would you like to come over to Fonteyne to meet her?”
“No. You’d have to be as crazy as you are to be out on the road in weather like this.”
Jules felt anger rise inside him, and he stifled a sigh of exasperation.
“Marie is eager to get going, and Laurène can’t wait to see her mom,” he said.
As Antoine was still blocking his way, Jules decided to turn around, giving up on the idea of seeing Mrs. Billot.
“Wait!” Antoine said. “What were you up to yesterday in Pessac? Someone told me you were having lunch with your brother’s lawyer at La Réserve. Is that true?”
Jules slowly turned around to face Antoine and glared at him with deliberate insolence.
“I don’t believe I have to justify myself to you in any way,” he said.
“You’re my son-in-law! Your brother is my son-in-law! The Laverzac boys swooped down on my daughters like there weren’t any other women in the entire region. And now …”
Jules went up a step to look Antoine right in the eyes.
“And now,” he said, “you should thank heaven for that.”
“You’re just like Aurélien! It’s almost like you were actually his son. …”
“Don’t say another word or you and I will never speak again,” Jules warned him. “I have to show you respect because you’re Laurène’s father, but as a man I think you’re mediocre at best. Is that clear?”
Antoine took a deep breath. He was afraid of Jules, and this made him even more livid than what he’d just heard.
“Get the hell out of here!” he screamed. “Out! I kicked Aurélien out of my house once, now it’s your turn!”
Jules calmly went down the steps. Marie was waiting for him downstairs, looking worried.
“What’s going on?” she asked.
Antoine showed up in the kitchen.
“I don’t want you to get in a car with those two maniacs!” he told his wife, aggressively pointing at Louis-Marie.
“Come on, Antoine …”
Louis-Marie glanced at Jules and could tell right away that his brother was on the verge of exploding. He went over to Antoine.
“How are you doing?” he asked, with a polite smile.
His attitude destabilized Antoine, leaving him speechless.
“Your granddaughter looks like a little angel,” Louis-Marie continued. “As for the roads, don’t worry. We put chains on the tires, and we’re driving very slowly.”
There was a moment of silence, and then Antoine shrugged and decided to go along with the line Louis-Marie was throwing him.
“Be careful out there,” he grumbled.
He stepped out of the house and slammed the door. Slipping on the yard’s icy snow, he almost fell.
And that’s it, he bitterly thought, the baby’s name is Laverzac, just like the twins’. And all my descendants will bear that name. There won’t be any more Billots. My land will be sold. My entire life will have been for nothing. …
He took refuge in his cellar and began pacing in front of the barrels. He didn’t like Jules and he didn’t like Fonteyne. Fonteyne was exactly what he’d dreamed of having, but this dream would never come true. He was startled when he heard footsteps behind him. Jules was coming his way.
“Antoine,” he said. “Are you sure you don’t want to come along with us?”
Jules’s tone was friendly, but Antoine only shook his head, saying nothing.
“I could bring you and Marie back this afternoon,” Jules added.
He seemed on the verge of leaving but then hesitated. He put his hands in his pockets and looked straight at Antoine.
“I wanted to say … I apologize for what I said just now.”
Jules left the cellar with his usual quick strides, and Antoine watched him go.
The problem with that kid is that he can be so incredibly likeable when he wants to be. …
Antoine listened to the sound of the engine, then the chains crushing the hard snow as the car took off. He smiled at the thought of Marie’s joy when she’d see the baby. His wife adored babies, especially little girls.
In Paris, the snow had melted, and everything was dirty and sinister-looking. Pauline was really beginning to worry, as it was only a few days away from the holidays. Esther had been pouting for weeks and shut herself in her bedroom as soon as she returned home from school. And when Pauline tried to talk to her about Robert, she was downright insolent.
Pauline was anything but a good mother, but she loved her daughter in her own way. She ended up offering Esther the opportunity to leave for Fonteyne earlier than planned. Delighted at the thought of joining her dad and her cousins, missing the last few days of school before the holiday break, and taking the train by herself, Esther immediately jumped on it. Pauline phoned Louis-Marie, who accepted her decision with his usual calm. She was calling him three times a week, but hung up each time feeling perplexed. Louis-Marie had agreed to a reflection period, while knowing that Pauline would have to come up with a decision before the holidays. Robert was no doubt getting very antsy and pushing her.
Pauline distractedly folded Esther’s skirts and sweaters, then stuffed them into a travel bag. Sitting at her desk, her daughter seemed absorbed in the book she was reading. It depressed Pauline just to think of the food they’d be having that night for dinner—hamburgers and fries. It was the only meal that made Esther happy. Then, after a quick goodnight kiss, she would put her daughter to bed.
“I’m putting your blue sneakers in here,” Pauline said, not expecting a response.
That a nine-year-old girl could impose her foul mood on others like this suddenly seemed quite wrong to Pauline. Before Louis-Marie had decided to play the part of a hermit over at Fonteyne, he and Pauline went out almost every evening. Pauline felt no guilt whatsoever to put Esther in the hands of some babysitter. Now, she made an effort not to leave Esther too often, turning down half of Robert’s invitations.
“I also want my red wool cap,” she said. “The one Dad sent me for my birthday.”
“You could at least say ‘please’!”
“Please, mom,” the girl said, without lifting her eyes off the book.
Annoyed, Pauline stuffed a scarf in the bag and angrily tried to close it, but
the zipper got stuck. She tried to get it unstuck but only managed to break a nail. Running out of patience, she stormed out of the bedroom and into the kitchen, only to find the table still littered with the crumbs from breakfast. She sat on one of the tall stools at the counter on the verge of tears, her nerves frayed. Suddenly she felt like going to Fonteyne herself. She longed for a Christmas where Dominique, Fernande, and Clothilde would take care of everything, while she could simply chill out. Why did she have to choose now and turn her entire life upside down?
It was getting late. Pauline and Esther had to have an early dinner, as Esther’s train would be leaving very early the following morning. Robert had suggested they spend Christmas in Venice, but Pauline hadn’t responded. The phone rang and she hurried to pick up. With the very first words she heard, she began to smile. She loved Robert’s warm voice, his worries as well as his bursts of laughter. And yet, she definitely wasn’t certain that she felt like spending the rest of her life with him.
Jules barely had time to sit before the secretary came to get him. He followed her to Valérie’s office, glad that she had agreed to see him so quickly.
“Mr. Laverzac,” said the attorney with enthusiasm, “I am quite happy to see you.”
She gestured for her secretary to leave, and she waited until she was alone with Jules to offer him a broad smile.
“Sit down, please,” she said. “Is this a formal meeting or a friendly visit?”
“Whichever you wish,” Jules said.
She frowned. For the past two weeks, she’d been thinking about him night and day. No man had ever had this effect on her. It was worse than just being under his spell; she felt downright destabilized.
“Either way,” she said, “I’m happy to see you.”
Still, she had the feeling that he wasn’t there to tell her pleasant things.
“I didn’t want to call you,” Jules began.
“That’s too bad. I was actually wishing you would.”
She remained in control of herself, but she was afraid of what was to come, and she preferred speaking first.
“I heard about your daughter’s birth. Congratulations!”
“Thank you. …”
She was standing next to the window, and he joined her there. He put a hand on her shoulder, making her tremble.
“I had to see you,” he said. “To explain …”
“Is that really necessary? All you had to do was keep quiet, stay out of my life. I wouldn’t have tried to hound you, you know.”
She took a quick step away from Jules, glared at him, her expression haughty.
“Today you’re a young dad and you’ve discovered the virtues of fidelity, is that it? You shouldn’t have bothered for so little. We made each other no promises, if I remember correctly. …”
“Valérie, listen to me …”
“No! You’re going to have to excuse me now. I have a lot of work to do.”
She went and sat behind her desk, put her glasses back on the bridge of her nose, and opened a folder.
A few steps and he was right next to Valérie, forcing her to look at him.
“I’m very much attracted to you,” he said, rapid-fire. “I’m dying to make love to you, to have conversations with you. But neither of us would gain anything from it.”
“How do you know that?” she asked, her voice cracking.
She fought with herself to keep from begging him. For the first time in her life, she was stupefied to find herself so vulnerable, on the verge of stooping to anything for just another chance.
“Please, Jules …”
She’d uttered his name with despair. He took a step back.
“I can’t,” he said simply.
It was worse than a slap in the face. He’d just rejected her, with a couple of words. She was twelve years older than he was, and that fact struck her hard at that particular moment. She looked at Jules, her expression cold.
“In that case, Mr. Laverzac, I won’t keep you any longer.”
She saw him hesitate, but then he stepped out of the office without a word. After he was gone, she needed five long minutes to gain a modicum of composure. She’d have all the time in the world to grieve. At the moment, what hurt most was the humiliation. She hated failure, and this one more than any other she’d ever experienced. She looked for the phone number of the judge handling the Laverzac case. When she got him on the line, she was able to produce her cheerful voice and asked him out for dinner. She’d ignored him for so long he sounded astonished by her invitation. Valérie used all her charm, found some vague professional pretext, and had no difficulty convincing him.
Jules came back from Bordeaux late in the afternoon and allowed himself a horse ride before darkness fell, to try and forget about that afternoon’s painful encounter. Then he showered and joined Laurène just as she was bottle-feeding their daughter. He insisted on doing it himself, still marveling at the thought that he was holding his very own child. He handled her with tender, precise, and attentive gestures. Laurène watched him with jubilation, thrilled to see him enjoying his new role as father so much. She’d recuperated well from the delivery, and she’d taken care of herself the past few days, taking advantage of her daughter’s long naps to pamper herself and try on some sophisticated makeup. Dominique pushed Laurène to make herself beautiful, saying that Jules must be tired of the forced abstinence of the past weeks, then she’d burst out laughing, Laurène following suite. The two sisters talked a lot, and were closer now than they’d ever been in their lives.
As soon as little Lucie-Malvoisie fell asleep in her crib, Jules looked his wife over from head to toe.
“You’re truly beautiful,” he said, completely sincere.
Laurène had neither Valérie’s elegance nor her self-confidence, and Jules rarely felt like talking to her about serious matters. But she was so tiny, so young, and so pretty that he felt something moving within him every time he looked at her.
“You’re a kid who had a kid,” he said to her, lovingly.
She went over to him, kissed him, and snuggled against him like a kitten. He fished a small black box from his jeans. Surprised, she took it but didn’t open it.
“For me? Why?”
“Just to say thank you.”
Laurène hesitated, and Jules laughed the way she adored. She lifted the lid and choked on a cry of joy. An emerald was glistening at the bottom of the velour box. Jules took the precious stone, which had been mounted as a pendant, amused by his wife’s stunned expression.
“You are out of your mind,” Laurène muttered.
Without saying anything, Jules clasped the chain behind his wife’s neck. She ran to a mirror, and he broke out laughing. It was the first time he’d bought her jewelry, the gem of her engagement ring, given to them by Aurélien, having belonged to Lucie. She went back to him, her eyes sparkling. At first he thought it was from excitement, but then he saw that she was crying.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, a bit alarmed.
She threw herself into his arms, sobbing uncontrollably.
“So you still love me?” she asked, her face wedged against his chest.
Jules grabbed her chin and forced her to raise her head.
“Laurène,” he said. “Tell me what’s going on. … Look at me!”
He’d raised his voice, not truly worried.
“Of course I love you,” he said. “And I love that little girl of ours. And I already love the other babies we’re going to have together, because I want a bunch of them!”
He tried to calm her down, anxiously wondering if someone had talked to her about the lunch he’d had in Pessac with Valérie Samson. He hated himself for what he’d done that day. He was a married man now, a father—he needed to change the way he lived. Taking this woman to a hotel not far from Bordeaux had been a stupid, reckless decision, that of a bachelor. He couldn’t be certain that he was always going to be faithful to Laurène, but at least he could make sure not to hurt her.
&
nbsp; “It’s not easy being your wife,” Laurène said. “I feel like some little unimportant, cumbersome thing that’s in your way. Like I annoy you. …”
“Laurène!”
“What you needed was someone exceptional. Dominique told me that much, and my mother, too. … With me, you can do whatever you want and I just gawk at you. … I’m just like a groupie to you. …”
He raised his eyes to the ceiling, and then picked her up in his arms and carried her to the bed.
“I want you,” he said. “I promise to be very gentle.”
He slowly undressed her, and she didn’t resist him, more astonished than anything else.
“You’re not some kid,” he said, “you’re a woman … who I love. You’re not some useless and cumbersome thing. … And I want you to prove it to me, right now. …”
He waited for Laurène to take charge, looking straight at her. She got over her uneasiness and decided to please him.
Extremely embarrassed, Lucas hesitated in front of the door. It was six in the morning, still dark out and freezing. He rarely went up to the castle’s second floor, but he’d walked down the hallway to Jules’s bedroom. He finally did knock, and Jules opened the door, a puzzled look on his face.
“I’m very sorry to disturb you …” Lucas said. “It’s my wife … She’s not doing well at all. …”
“Fernande? Give me a sec. …”
Jules put on a pair of jeans, a turtleneck, and his boots without bothering with socks and was in the hallway within seconds.
“She coughed all night long again, and when I said I was going to call the doctor, she didn’t say no. But then she passed out while I was getting dressed.”
Lucas had sprinted all the way over, and his cheeks were crimson.
“Are the roads still icy?” Jules asked as they hurried down the stairs.
“Even worse than before!”
Jules didn’t even bother grabbing his coat before they both stepped out into the cold. They ran to the barn and climbed into the Jeep, the chains still on its tires.
As soon as Jules saw Fernande in her bed, he knew that she was in a very bad way. She’d regained consciousness, but her wheezing was painful to hear. He took her hand, forcing a smile.
A Bordeaux Dynasty: A Novel Page 56
