My Brother's Crown (41 page)

“I had never known anything with such certainty in all my life.” Grand-Mère turned the ruby ring on her finger. “This ring your grandfather gave me reminds me of my decision every day.” She started toward the front of the chapel but stopped and turned back to Catherine. “And now I need certainty again. I am going to pray. You can join me if you like.”

Sensing that Grand-Mère would prefer to be alone, Catherine said she would go into the cathedral. It was impressive with its paintings,
ornate woodwork, and high, vaulted ceiling. When she was finished looking around, she stepped back into the chapel. Grand-Mère was still kneeling at the front, but she was not alone. A priest was kneeling by her side, a hand on her back. The two spoke for a few minutes, and then the priest helped the older woman to her feet. “You are always welcome here,” he said. “Your family. Your kind.”

“
Merci
.”

“I despair over what is happening,” the priest said. “It is always on my heart. I do what I can—”

“
Merci
,” Grand-Mère said again. “God is in control. We will persevere.”

The priest nodded and said, “Go in peace.” Then he headed toward the door, smiling at Catherine as he passed.

Grand-Mère did not speak until they were back outside. “That filled my soul,” she said.

After a long moment, she added, “The priests here are opposed to the way we are being treated while those at Notre-Dame are supportive of the king.”

Catherine thought for a moment. “But Uncle Laurent attends Notre-Dame. Does that mean he supports our persecution?”

Grand-Mère sighed sadly. “That is my concern.”

Catherine tried to absorb such a thought.

“I believe my brother may be in debt,” Grand-Mère continued. “I noticed a stack of bills on his desk. And I overheard him raising his voice with someone, a creditor, I am afraid, in his office.”

“But why would he spend the money on our clothes and on the dinner for Eriq and me if he owes others money?”

“To impress you, I imagine.”

“But why?”

“He wants something,” Grand-Mère answered. “He is cunning, Catherine. Always thinking ahead.” She sighed again. “We cannot trust him.”

Catherine's face warmed.

“Appearances can be deceiving,” Grand-Mère said softly, almost to
herself. Catherine thought of the painting of the king and his family, so filled with deception. She thought of Pierre and Jules, who pretended to be good Huguenots but were possibly betrayers instead.

Grand-Mère folded her hands together. “I have one other concern. Suzanne suggested that Eriq plans to woo you, which caught me off guard. But now I am worried about that too.”

When Catherine did not answer, Grand-Mère added, “Eriq and Pierre may be brothers, but they are not interchangeable.”

“You're right,” Catherine replied. “Eriq has vision and ambition. And he has a sense of adventure, unlike Pierre. Also, he is not unduly influenced by my brother.” She took a deep breath and exhaled. “I will admit that I'm frustrated with Pierre.”

“And perhaps a little angry?”

“
Oui
.”

“We tend to become the angriest with those we love the most.”

Tears flooded Catherine's eyes. “I am afraid I am feeling the anger much more than the love these days.”

“Catherine…”

“Papa always said he would never pressure me to marry. That it would be my choice.”

“I know, but not so long ago you and Pierre seemed to be ready to wed.”

Catherine swallowed hard, afraid her feelings had shifted. “Well, he changed.”

Grand-Mère stopped walking. “We've all changed this last year, at least those who have been paying attention to what is going on.”

“I've been paying attention.”

“And that is why you think the only answer is to get out—now.”

“So many are doing that, Grand-Mère. Monsieur and Madame Talbot. The cobbler. Lots of others.”

“Do you think they all went just like that?” She whisked her hand in front of her face. “Do you think they went without
months
of planning?”

Catherine stiffened. Her grandmother had never spoken so harshly with her.

And apparently she was not finished. “Just because your brother shields us from what is going on does not mean we should not be grateful for what he does.”

“I am grateful.”

Grand-Mère looked at Catherine as if she were still the little girl who lied about stealing a pastry set aside for her brother.

“And I do not plan to marry Eriq either.” After a moment, she murmured, “At least not anytime soon.”

Grand-Mère just shook her head and resumed walking.

C
HAPTER
T
WENTY
-T
HREE

Catherine

T
hat afternoon, while Grand-Mère rested, Catherine wandered over to the park by herself, stopping at the pond. A boy pulled a boat on a string across the water. Two swans floated near the middle.

“Catherine.”

She turned around. Eriq stood behind her. “I thought this is where you would come on your last day in Paris.”

She smiled at him. “What have you been doing today?”

“I saw Monsieur Olivier and Anton.”

“Why?”

“I met your uncle at the café at noon. Anton was there. We all ate together. He said to tell you hello. He was in the city for just a few hours, otherwise he would have stopped by.”

“Oh.” Catherine was not sorry she had missed him.

Eriq stepped closer to her. “I know we could find the right buyer for the business—for all of it, if only we were staying in Paris as long as we had planned.”

Catherine turned toward the pond. “Would you go to Switzerland then, to your parents?”

“
Non
,” Eriq said. “I do not know where I would go, but not there.” He smiled at her. “London still sounds right to me.”

They watched the toy boat on the water. Catherine told him about Saint-Germain and the kind priest. She felt comfortable with Eriq, nearly as much as she once had with Pierre. But all of that seemed so long ago now.

That evening, Eriq and Uncle Laurent holed up in the office. Catherine couldn't help but wonder what they were talking about.

The next morning, the fourth Saturday of Easter, Eriq was gone when Grand-Mère and Catherine got up. “I sent him on an errand,” Uncle Laurent said.

“But you knew we were leaving,” Grand-Mère replied, frowning.

“He will be back.”

The carriage had just arrived when Eriq hurried into the house with some documents. He gave them to Uncle Laurent, who thanked him.

Grand-Mère, her cape on and a basket of food in her hands, asked Eriq if he was ready to go.

“I need to gather my belongings,” he said, hurrying up the stairs.

Catherine was annoyed with Eriq but thanked Uncle Laurent for his hospitality and the new clothes.

“I pray you will return to Paris and I will be able to buy you more,” he said.

Catherine curtsied, thinking of his debts. Grand-Mère kissed her brother and thanked him too, but there seemed to be a rift between them.

Eriq thundered down the stairs, his bag in his arms.

“Yvonne, please reconsider,” Uncle Laurent said. “I can offer care for Amelie and the baby. For all of you. If the men refuse to come, let me at least care for the women in the family.”

Grand-Mère shook her head. “We are trusting the Lord for what we need.”

“The Lord and Suzanne.”

“The Lord, Laurent. Whom He uses is up to Him.”

“Then let Him use me.”

She shook her head and started out the door, saying over her shoulder, “You ask too much of us.”

“Do not be ridiculous, Yvonne. I cannot let you leave like this, unprotected.”

“We have Suzanne's letter.”

He shuddered. “Do you think that will save your lives?”

“Our lives belong to the Lord. We have asked for as much assistance as prudent, and we will now trust our Maker with our destinies.”

Uncle Laurent shook his head. “You are a foolish woman.”

Grand-Mère merely shrugged.

Uncle Laurent turned to Eriq. “It is now up to you to change the minds of the women in this family.”

Eriq nodded, solemnly. “I shall do my best.” Then he offered his own thanks.

Uncle Laurent clapped him on the back, saying, “It was my pleasure. I look forward to… seeing you again.”

Catherine stepped around the men and hurried to catch up with her grandmother, wondering exactly what Eriq had been up to. By the time they reached the carriage, he was right behind them. Once they were all settled, the driver pulled onto the street and then away from the Jardin du Luxembourg and toward the Seine.

By the time they had reached the countryside, Catherine put her doubts about Eriq aside. He had been assisting Uncle Laurent with some business. It was the least he could do for their host. Eriq used good judgment—she knew that. She had no reason to doubt his integrity.

They stopped at the same inns on the way home, but Eriq did not speak with fellow travelers as he had before. He seemed reflective, but he was also fun and playful on occasions, teasing Catherine that she had better hide her new dresses and top-knot before they got home or Jules would not let her leave the house. The last night, Catherine and Eriq walked down to the Saône. The breeze blew through the cottonwoods and a flock of swifts flew up into the sky, above the river, and then swooped back and settled in the trees. Eriq put his hands on
her shoulders and gazed down into her eyes. Her heart raced and she turned her face toward him.

“It has been a wonderful trip,” he said, looking deeply into her eyes. “Absolutely beyond my expectations.”

“
Oui
,” she answered, remembering what Grand-Mère said about the brothers not being interchangeable. Of course they were not. They were as different as could be. And she could not help but appreciate Eriq's determination.

He leaned toward her, as if he might kiss her. She stepped away, her thoughts on kissing Pierre in the vault.

“Catherine,” Eriq said, his head dropping.

“It's nothing,” she said. “I'm tired.” And confused. She started back to the inn and Eriq quickly followed, not seeming upset in the least.

Regardless of whether she married Pierre or not, she still owed him her respect. Maybe they would never marry, but she was not going to insult his dignity. Time would tell which brother was right for her. It was not up to her to rush the decision—nor to kiss any other man in the meantime.

On the road the next day, after Grand-Mère nodded off, Eriq apologized for being too forward. “I would be honored to have your affection, but I don't mean to rush you.”

“
Merci
,” Catherine answered. “I don't want to be rash.” At least not more than she usually was. She had enjoyed spending time with him in Paris. He had been a good friend to her, and she couldn't discount that, not at all.

Grand-Mère stirred, and Catherine wondered if she had been asleep or merely resting. Eriq didn't say anything more on the subject and neither did Catherine.

The travelers returned home on the last Tuesday of May, the sixth Tuesday of Easter. Monsieur Roen met them in the courtyard.

“How is everything?” Grand-Mère asked him as he helped her down.

“There have been some changes with the staff.”

“Oh?”

“Cook will tell you.” He extended his hand to Catherine.

Eriq jumped down next and helped Monsieur with the trunk as the women went into the house. Cook was not in the kitchen.

“
Bonjour
,” Grand-Mère called out as they continued into the house.