by Matilda Hart
“I must confess, the greatest meal I ever had was brown bread and fresh tomatoes in the Versailles gardens.” Joan said dreamily. “As a wife I’ll be in charge of arranging a host of god awful - pardon my saying so - but god awful English meals.” With that the two of them started laughing so hard that they were almost crying. Indeed, the red wine was taking effect, but more so a friendship and camaraderie was struck. The two were quite at ease with one another, and the evening would be one of the most pleasant in recent memory for both.
“We really should go back to the party now. It must nearly be over.” Joan suggested, even though it pained her to say it. She wanted the evening to endlessly go on in that kitchen.
Without replying, the Duke poured Joan another glass of wine. In other words, he was speechlessly declining her suggestion.
“Do you want to know something funny?” The Duke said.
“What is that?” Joan said.
“I don’t even know your name.”
“Perhaps we should keep it that way. What I’ve confided in you would create such a scandal that it is better if my identity is concealed.”
“Come come, now. You know I’d never dream of it. Tell me your name.” he said.
“Joan. Joan Lebeau.”
“Joan Lay Boo.”
“You don’t speak French.” Joan stated. She could tell from how he said her name.
“Is it so obvious?”
“Yes.” She said teasingly.
“What does your last name mean?” Emil asked.
Joan became bashful for a moment. To say it aloud was embarrassing.
“The beautiful.” She said under her breath, hoping to toss it off.
“Pardon me?” He said.
“The beautiful.” She said, louder so that he could hear.
“Ha! Indeed.” The Duke said. Suddenly he became pensive, and stared at Joan without saying a word. She became self-conscious, wondering if he might be examining her, concluding that her appearance didn’t live up to her family name.
“I’ve got a proposition for you, Joan.” He finally said. The Duke had an intent gaze.
“What is that?” She asked.
“Well, if I’m not mistaken this whole engagement circus makes you quite as ill as it does for me.”
“Without question.” She replied.
“Well, say you and I could help one another out.”
“How’s that?” She asked, although she was beginning to catch on.
“We could take one another off the market. This very night. You’d not have to endure another insufferable evening such as this one in my home.” He said, with a bright, shining smile. “And I’d not have to entertain such a horrid and embarrassing event again. I could go back to my horses, you could go back to your bread and tomatoes, and we’d both be…….free.”
At first it seemed to Joan that they would never be able to pull off such a ruse. Then the brilliance of the idea struck her with remarkable force.
“We could say that we fell for one another. On this very evening. It explains why we excused ourselves from most of the party, and it might even perhaps explain why there was half a bottle of the finest red wine missing.” Joan said humorously, realizing that the plan was perfect. She would have aunt Constance off her back that very night!
“Precisely. You go back to your life and I to mine.” The Duke said.
“But how do we keep it up?” Joan asked, trying to think ahead.
“Well, I suppose it could be a kind of game. We would see how long we can make it last. In the meantime, I can show you how to ride a horse!”
“I know how to ride a horse.” Joan said.
“Of course. We could ride horses together. Do you fence?” He asked.
“A little.” She said.
“Splendid. I have a tremendous instructor I can introduce you to.”
“Do you swim?” Joan asked.
The Duke looked suddenly embarrassed and anxious. He would need to respond with care.
“No.” He said flatly.
“I’ll teach you!” Joan said.
“No, I’m afraid I’m quite petrified.” Emil explained.
“I promise you. It will be easier than attending an evening such as this.” She said.
“In that, you’re unequivocally correct.” He said. “To pay penance for our deceit, I’ll force myself to learn how to swim.”
“So, it’s a deal then?” Joan asked, excited and full of hope.
“It’s a deal, Joan the Beautiful.” Emil said, raising his glass. Joan did the same, and they had a little toast to their brilliant ideal.
Chapter Five
“What’s the matter, you coward? Can’t you keep up!” Emil yelled behind him, his horse galloping at a pace that even the most skilled horseman in the world couldn’t keep up with.
“It’s not fair!” Joan yelled, trying her best. Of course it wasn’t fair, because her horse was not a thoroughbred and not nearly the same size as Emil’s horse.
“You’re just scared.” He yelled back.
“I am NOT!” Joan yelled, and kicked her horse in the sides as hard as she could. Even though she was having the time of her life with Emil; tennis on Wednesdays, fencing on Fridays, hiking almost every weekend, she couldn’t help but wish that just once she beat him at something. At least she had the relief of knowing that he never let her win. That would be insufferable.
Of course a woman on a horse in a man’s saddle and trousers would be completely intolerable for an unwed girl, but now that the ruse of Emil and Joan’s successful ‘engagement’ had worked so well, even freedoms such as those were finally afforded to her. Aunt Constance had even turned her head at such blatant displays of impropriety. Since Joan had fetched herself such a successful match, she could enjoy some freedom as a reward.
The Duke finally slowed down to let Joan catch up to him. Although he loved to tease her, it was still pleasant to have her by his side, to remark upon the weather, point out an interesting species of shrub, or tell a bawdy joke and watch her smile.
Emil was feeling happier than he had ever been in quite some time. Not only was the companionship surprisingly pleasant, but his mother Genevieve was almost completely off his back; something he hadn’t enjoyed for many years. Although she would have hoped for an English girl from an established family, Genevieve approved of Joan’s beauty, and her family’s highly reputable position in France. After all, it was not wealth that the Lawrence family needed, but merely a propitious gene pool in which many sons could be produced.
“You look fetching in those pants.” Emil said when Joan finally caught up. She was out of breath and her hair was in her face like an exhausted child.
“They’re yours. Not my taste at all.” Joan said.
“Ha! They look better on you.” That made Joan smile, which was the Duke’s intention.
“You know, you make it easy to pretend that I’m in love.” Joan said.
“I wish I could say the same!” Emil said flatly, then kicked his horse in the sides and sped ahead.
“You devil.” Joan said under her breath and tried, yet again, to catch up with him to no avail.
Truly, Joan had meant what she said. She found it amazingly easy to convince Constance that she was in love with her dear friend; for indeed, the Duke already felt like one of her best friends. He reminded her of her Lost Boys growing up, with Jean Luc, Robard, and Etienne. She felt free and like herself around Emil.
But still at the back of her mind, she wondered how long they might be able to keep it up. At some point there would need to be action taken. Late one night playing cards Emil had told Joan about a couple he knew that managed to be engaged for 10 years. Finally, their parents died and they simply split the engagement. Emil wondered if that couple had come up with the same kind of plan that he and Joan had engineered.
Of course, it would be easy enough to go on being engaged for ten years. Such bliss they experienced together! Joan and Emil were like peas in a pod
, and perhaps the only thing that could set anyone off to the ruse was the fact that they appeared strangely unlike any engaged couple in the history of London society. If anything would eventually give them away, it might just be that it all looked far too easy.
“There’s the Kelly ball tonight.” Emil said as his face sunk with disdain.
“Good Lord, did you tell them that we would attend?” Joan asked, having annoyingly caught up to the Duke once more. She was beginning to see that he would only slow down for her when he felt like having a bit of conversation.
“I suppose it’s expected.”
“Don’t be such a bore.” Joan said, dismounting her horse to stretch her legs. “I shall tell them that you’re quite ill, and that I must stay home to attend to you.”
“You’re a clever mademoiselle.” Emil said. Such an idea had never occurred to him. He finally had a partner in crime. He dismounted his horse as well.
“I have an idea. We’ll have a picnic! We can bring a nice meal, ride off at dusk, bring some candles and such, and dine under the stars!” As Joan said this she fell onto her back to look up at the blue sky.
Emil lay down beside her to do the same.
“Clever and overly romantic.” He said, giving her a little kick in the foot.
“I am not! I’m just French.” Joan replied.
“Picnic under the stars? You are a girl after all. I was beginning to be unsure. You wear trousers most of the time now.” he teased.
“I wear trousers most of the time because all I do is ride horses with you.” Joan said, and gave him a little nudge to the side.
“I would have it no other way.” The Duke said. There was silence for a moment, but not uncomfortable in the least. “Alright, a picnic under the stars, and in return, I get a swimming lesson.”
“I thought you didn’t want a swimming lesson.” Joan said.
“No, I’m changing my mind about it. I think it will be quite fun. We’ll go this afternoon. Then I can ‘drown’ my embarrassment in good wine and cheese at our little picnic.” He said.
“The perfect plan. If only the inmates at the Kelly ball knew what they were missing.” She said.
“Indeed.” Emil said.
************
“Keep kicking. You’ve got it!” Joan said by way of encouragement.
“I’m going to die.” The Duke protested, flailing his arms and choking on water.
“You just need to get used to it.” Joan said.
Joan had found perhaps the only thing on earth that the Duke was not good at, and it was bringing her satisfaction. Being in the water had reduced Emil to a terrified child, and Joan was trying not to laugh lest she might embarrass him.
“Whose idea was this?” Emil said. Joan was right by his side, holding him up when he sank, but since the early afternoon he had really made some good progress.
“The idea was your own.” Joan replied, releasing him so that he could get the feel of treading water without being held. “You see, look! You're getting it.”
The Duke was now treading on his own, and a wave of calm was coming over him. Finally he felt like he could keep his head above water.
“You’ve enjoyed all this, haven’t you?” He said to her.
“If you’re asking me if I get enjoyment out of seeing you flail around, the answer is yes.” She replied, floating on her back.
“At least you’re honest.” He replied. “So here I am. Swimming on my own. My greatest accomplishment.”
“Oh, I’m sure you’ve accomplished far greater things.” She replied.
“My life looks impressive enough, but truly, much was given to me.”
“And you’ve been successful with what was given to you. A key distinction.”
“You’ve been given a bit, too. And what you have done with it is simply shocking.” He added.
“That bad?” She asked. Joan was suddenly self-conscious about her life.
“No, extraordinary! Look at you. What are you, eighteen? You’re worldly, kind, fiercely intelligent, adventurous, exciting— I could go on and on.” He said, whilst trying to figure out how to float on his back beside her. The attempt was inelegant at first, but like everything else that came his way, he eventually figured it out, and mastered it.
“Oh, I haven’t done much. There’s so much more that I want to do and see. I fear that I’ve been lazy.” Joan replied, deep down truly feeling as though this whole marriage business had put her life on hold. That is, until Emil came along.
“Nonsense. You will see and do everything that you want.” The two of them floated there side by side. Lying next to each other and staring at the sky was becoming a hallmark of their friendship.
“I wish I could have an occupation of some sort.” Joan said with regret.
“Accomplished that already. You’re a swimming instructor.”
“I suppose you’re right. And look at the skill of my pupil! I must be a success.” She said.
“Without question.” Emil replied.
Their arms brushed against one another. Feeling her bare, wet skin next to his was surprising at first. He really hadn’t considered it yet: Joan in that way. Their arrangement was far too perfect to wreck it with anything resembling amorousness.
Joan considered the feel of his arm, as well. She had admired the size of his forearms on a couple of occasions, and they were pleasing to her. As funny as it sounded, she liked how hairy they were! Quite manly for someone of five and twenty years.
The sky was beginning to change colors right before them. The blues and whites of the day were slowly being turned into a kaleidoscope of pinks and purples, with the occasional streak of gold. Something felt oddly different once the sun was setting. It was like a whole new atmosphere began to surround their friendship, and this continued and intensified into the night when their picnic commenced.
The Duke had brought a blanket that he laid upon the grass, and Joan presented the basket that she had prepared.
“So, what’s it going to be? I’m starving after all that drowning that I accomplished this afternoon.” Joan wondered if Emil would ever stop poking fun of his achievements.
“Thin slices of meat, cheese, bread - of course - and roasted asparagus. I also baked a fruit pie.” Joan said with glee.
“You baked a pie? You’re destined for hearth and home after all.” Emil said.
“Don’t tease like that. I like to bake for my friends. Not my ball-and-chain and the dirty little complaining creatures that came from our loins.” Joan scoffed.
“I wish I could say that I brought something to contribute.”
“Your fine company.” Joan was quick to reply.
“Oh, I suppose there is this.” Emil said, pulling out a bottle of his best wine.
“You’re a genius!” Joan exclaimed, throwing her hands into the air.
As the Duke poured the wine, Joan payed special attention to his hands. After she realized that she was staring, she averted her gaze and looked to the stars overhead.
“Beautiful tonight.” Joan said, putting her arms around herself.
“You are cold.” Emil said, quickly taking off his light coat.
“No, no please. I’ll be fine.” Joan protested.
“Please allow me a small measure of chivalry.” Emil said.
As he put his coat around her shoulders, Joan became aware of the fact that such gestures made her remarkably uncomfortable. It wasn’t that she wasn’t a real woman with female sensibilities, but it was the feeling of being taken care of that gave her pause. Perhaps it was that little sensation of powerlessness that she found distasteful.
“There you are.” Emil said, and for a brief moment he paused behind her shoulders. Emil had to admit that that moment of caring for her in some small way was incredibly pleasurable to him. He knew that it was not something that his friend would ever ask for - nay, even might run from - but he wished he could do little things like that for her more often.
Joan could feel tha
t he was taking the moment in, and she abruptly shifted.
“It seems as though it’s almost time to go, is it not? All that swimming and riding has made me quite tired.” Joan said, changing the whole tone of the evening.
