The Chevalier (Châteaux and Shadows)
Read The Chevalier (Châteaux and Shadows) Online
Authors: Philippa Lodge
Tags: #Historical, #Scarred Hero/Heroine
Praise for THE INDISPENSABLE WIFE:
Thank you for purchasing this publication of The Wild Rose Press, Inc.
“Stay away from him and all his friends.
It will only lead to pain. Not just physical pain, not just heartbreak, but the end of your reputation, the end of all your prospects.”
Her eyebrows went up; she was going to say something sarcastic. “You’re protecting me? Are you my brother? My father? My cousin?”
Manu opened his mouth to say that yes, he would act as her brother. But he snapped it shut and shook his head. “I’m not wise in the ways of the court.”
She sniffed in derision.
He scowled. “But I’ve spent the last twelve years with men of every class. I wouldn’t sell d’Oronte one of my horses. I wouldn’t sell your future to him, either.”
“It’s not your future, Emmanuel; it’s mine.” Her voice was as low and lethal as a short knife in a dark alley. “Maybe I don’t care anymore about my reputation. Maybe I’d like to flirt. Maybe I’d like a dalliance before I move to my property in Normandy and live the rest of my life alone.”
Manu stared. Alone in Normandy? He thought she liked the court.
She turned her back and marched to the next door, which she yanked open. She shut it softly behind her, showing remarkable restraint.
Praise for
THE INDISPENSABLE WIFE:
“Ms. Lodge reminded me how much I loved reading Dumas [author of
The Man in the Iron Mask
,
The Count of Monte Cristo
,
Twenty Years After
, and
The Three Musketeers
]. The setting, the court intrigue, but more importantly, the characters. This is a character driven book that left me bereft when I finished. I wanted more of Aurore and Dominique. …Overall, I loved how Ms. Lodge plots the story and her characters come to life for me. I really felt like I was [in] King Louis’ court and the French countryside. The twists and turns that these two have to overcome make for an awesome read… I can’t wait to read more from Ms. Lodge in the future.”
~Harlie’s Books (4.5 Stars)
~*~
And for
THE HONORABLE OFFICER:
“A story where every detail comes alive—a perfect marriage of strong characters, an engaging plot, and a time and place rich with detail. Sheer pleasure to read. I highly recommend this book!”
~P.D. Hurst, author of paranormal romance and
young adult contemporary fantasy
The Chevalier
by
Philippa Lodge
Châteaux and Shadows, Book Three
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.
The Chevalier
COPYRIGHT © 2016 by Phyllis Laatsch
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author or The Wild Rose Press, Inc. except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.
Contact Information: [email protected]
Cover Art by
Debbie Taylor
The Wild Rose Press, Inc.
PO Box 708
Adams Basin, NY 14410-0708
Visit us at www.thewildrosepress.com
Publishing History
First Tea Rose Edition, 2016
Print ISBN 978-1-5092-0810-4
Digital ISBN 978-1-5092-0811-1
Châteaux and Shadows
,
Book Three
Published in the United States of America
Dedication
To my elementary teachers
at McGuffey Laboratory School of Oxford, Ohio,
who encouraged epic horse stories
in my creative writing journal.
To my parents,
who, in spite of my ineptitude,
paid for horseback riding lessons
when I was most horse-mad.
And to my daughter and her Little Ponies.
Chapter One
1678, Western France
Emmanuel, Chevalier de Cantière, thought he recognized the horse cantering up the drive of his house. Not his house but his father’s Poitou property, promised to his second-oldest brother at their father’s death.
A fine, deep bay with white feet and a black mane. Its form was wrong to be truly beautiful, but an all-around excellent riding horse for distance. Long, even stride, though he—if it was the horse Manu thought, from the inn twenty miles north—was nearly exhausted but putting up a good front.
Only when the horse was closer did he bother to look at the rider. One of his older brother’s men. Emmanuel wondered if it was news of another baby. Though why Cédric would send a servant all this way to announce a sixth child, he didn’t know. He hadn’t even heard they were expecting a new one, but the youngest was already…seven? She had been born before he moved to the farm, and he had met her on his trips north. Perhaps his other brother’s wife, Hélène, had her baby. Wouldn’t it be early?
Without changing horses, it was nearly a week to his family. With frequent changes, excellent weather, and little sleep, Manu could cover the distance to his father’s country house in three days. The message must be more urgent than a new baby. Which usually meant bad news, a thought which left Manu gritting his teeth.
And why one servant? There should be at least two, to protect each other.
Ah. A second horse limped around the curve of the lane almost half a mile away, backlit by the setting sun and almost lost in the long, dappled shadows, a jogging servant beside it.
Manu wiped his work gloves on his stained breeches and tied his filly to a fence post as the servant on the bay approached.
The servant swung down from his horse, removed his hat, and bowed low. “Monsieur Emmanuel.”
Manu nodded. What was the servant’s name?
“I have a letter for you from Monsieur le Baron. Madame la Baronesse is gravely ill.”
Manu staggered.
Maman.
****
They left at dawn the next morning: Emmanuel, his friend Jacques who was groom, guard, and right hand, plus a coachman, a groom, and his brother’s two messengers. The messengers had been nearly as exhausted as their horses; Manu had almost left them behind. Some strain of cruelty had made him order them to come along. They wished to return to their homes anyway, and Manu allowed them to ride in his small coach. He wasn’t so cruel as to put them on horseback for another week, of course. He rode his favorite horse, a big bay he had named Vainqueur. Jacques was up on a showy gray mare Manu had been thinking of selling.
At the halfway point, he could no longer stand the slow pace. He and Jacques left Vainqueur, the mare, and his carriage to be brought along in stages. His young stallion neighed for him until he was out of hearing, but Manu had to move faster. From there, they changed horses when possible, and rode slowly when they couldn’t.
Throughout the journey, his heartbeat said,
Maman, Maman.
****
Manu’s stomach clenched hard as he recognized the landscape near his childhood home. How many times had he ridden out this way to get away from his older brothers and sister—and nieces and nephews? And from his father? And—he hated to admit it, even to himself—his mother?
He needed most to escape when his mother got tired of him. Until he was thirteen, they had lived in the family townhouse in Paris or at whichever palace the king dragged the courtiers to. They only came down to the country house when his father insisted on his right to see his son, which he did at least once a year. Emmanuel hated court, his mother dressing him up and leading him around like a puppy as she gossiped viciously with other bitter ladies and gentlemen who masked their judgment in piety.
He set his horse to canter—it was too tired to gallop—up the long driveway to his father’s château. Jacques, seeing the road clear of danger and being exhausted himself, waved him on.
Manu swung down at the front door and hesitated for just a moment, looking up at the gray stone portico. He handed the horse’s reins to a groom and leapt up the stairs. The majordomo opened the door and bowed to him.
“My mother?” he barked, sounding angrier than he intended.
“She is gone, Monsieur Emmanuel.”
“Gone?” His mother had died? He had come as quickly as he could. His knees wobbled.
The majordomo steadied him, then apologized for grabbing him. “She left this morning for Paris.”
Manu’s spine snapped straight. “Paris?”
“
Oui,
Monsieur. She woke up two days after your father sent for you.”
Manu brushed past the servant, the heels of his traveling boots ringing on the marble floor of the entryway.
She couldn’t wait for me to come home? She didn’t know I would come?
He opened his mouth to say as much but decided against complaining to a servant. “Is my father in residence?”
“He’s in the west field, Monsieur. I’ve just sent a boy to tell him you arrived.”
“And my room?” Manu gritted his teeth, practically snarling.
The majordomo bowed and assured him all was ready, but not before Manu saw the warning look in the man’s eye. The majordomo took it personally when anyone criticized the baron, as Manu was wont to do.
Manu strode up the family staircase to his small bedroom, a few doors down from his mother’s. On her rare visits, she stayed in the east wing, the rest of the family in the west.
He had barely washed some of the travel dirt from his face and torso when there was a knock at the door. He yanked on a shirt and shouted for whoever it was to come in.
His sister threw the door open and exclaimed in delight. Her pretty face was developing lines around her mouth and eyes. The corner of her left eye tugged down slightly, due to the scar on her temple, but she had a cap low on her forehead, hiding the round scar there.
As always when seeing her after a long absence, he felt a tug of anxiety and guilt. He had failed her once when he was a boy. She had almost died. She had never blamed him, though everyone else had.
“Manu!” She came forward to pull his head down and kiss his cheeks. “My favorite brother! Have you grown again? I keep forgetting you are this tall. I declare you are taller even than Dom and Jean-Louis, and they are taller than Cédric and Henri. Oh, you are more muscular, too!” She squeezed his bicep. “Look at you! So handsome!”
“
Bonjour
, Aurore.” Manu barely managed to make himself heard.
“I am glad to see you! My favorite brother!” Her smile slipped away. “I am sorry about Maman. Papa sent you another message when she awoke, but you must have passed the courier on the road. Or taken a different route. And now she…well, she is better, and you must stay for a few days at least before going back to Poitou.” She embraced him again and danced to the door. “If you can wait twenty days, Dom is thinking of going to Dumouton then. We can all travel together. We’ll go up to court for a week or so first, of course. We cannot travel as fast as you, even though Dario thinks he could keep up with you on horseback, of course, but you can be the outrider. Or ride in the carriage and keep me company. Dario will love to see his young uncle, as the older uncles are all as old as me and therefore ancient. I am afraid Dom and I are just too elderly to understand him.” She shook her head, jokingly mocking her ten-year-old son. “Dom should be here tonight. He went over to the
château-fort
a few days ago but promised to be back today to stay through Sunday.”
Manu shook his head at his sister’s usual rambling. “I should see Maman before I go back to Poitou.”
“Ah,
oui
. I suppose so.” Aurore shrugged. “As I said, we’ll go up to court for a week or so.”
None of his siblings appreciated their mother. But then, once he supported their side in the constant battles, he had felt Maman’s sharp tongue more than once. More than once? Constantly. She’d refused to see him for over a year when his father moved him to his brother-in-law’s château to be tutored and to train in weaponry. Even over the last few years, when he wrote to tell her he would be visiting the rest of the family, she’d told him not to come see her.
“She was nearly recovered but still pale and shaky. She wouldn’t listen when we told her to stay and rest. She…”
The hurt flashed across Aurore’s face so quickly that if Emmanuel hadn’t known to look for it, he wouldn’t have seen. His mother had said something horrid to sweet Aurore.