The Chevalier (Châteaux and Shadows) (26 page)

Even with a full stomach she felt shaky, as if she had been crying, though she had so far held back her tears. She wanted to sleep for several days, the way she had when her parents and fiancé died. She stayed in her seat after she had finished eating, considering her future.

A man loomed over her table, and she jerked back sharply. The groom, one of the baron’s men, grinned. She looked for an escape, but there was another man halfway between her and the door. Trapped. The groom waved at him, and he scurried out.

The groom turned back and bowed. “The whole family’s frantic for your safety, Mademoiselle.”

The Comte de Bures strode in, causing quite a bustle among the inn staff. His face eased from stiff pride to stark relief when he saw her. He bowed and waved his hand, making a servant with a chair appear as if by magic. He sat and gave orders for dinner for four men and about twelve servants. He leaned forward to speak softly to her. “Manu will be along soon. He was inquiring at the inn just down the road. The others were on the other road and will be along in a while.”

When he sat up, he said, just a little louder for their audience of inn workers, nobles, and servants, “What happened to your groom, Mademoiselle?”

She opened her mouth to say she hadn’t ridden with one, but he raised an eyebrow, and she knew he didn’t want the truth. Yet. “His horse threw a shoe just down the road. But since we had plans to all meet here, I rode on without him.”

Monsieur de Bures nodded, approving her lie. He went on softly, “Surely you know by now how protective our family is.”

She felt herself shrink. They would arrest her for poisoning the baronesse.

He leaned back in his chair and looked around casually, nodding at a tableful of gentlemen nearby. “Including you.”

She shook her head.

He pursed his lips. “And Emmanuel, of course. He’s part brother, part son to me. When Dario was little, he thought Manu
was
his brother. When he was four, he asked why he was to inherit everything if Manu was older. Why did Manu have to go away to start a horse farm? All the rest of his uncles were old and had children, and Manu was just a boy. A large boy, very nearly a man, but still a boy. You knew he lived with us?” He tapped on the table with one finger and looked around again. “Manu has always been good with children and horses.”

She smiled, still not sure she wasn’t going to be arrested, but distracted by her memories of Emmanuel and Colonel de Cantière’s children, sounding like a herd of horses in the attics. And by the thought of Emmanuel as a father.

She glanced up at the comte’s face, only to see him smiling at someone entering at the door of the inn. He waved. Emmanuel wove between tables, his face dark with a scowl, eyes boring into her, coat on one arm and draped around his other shoulder like a cape, sleeve flopping. Her heart leapt to see him and the burden of fear lifted from her. He had come for her.

She shivered.

He was furious.

He sat next to her but looked at the comte, who patted him on the shoulder. “Her groom’s horse lost a shoe outside of town, so she decided to press on without him, as we were all to meet here anyway.”

If anything, Emmanuel’s scowl became more pronounced. He turned his face back to her. “Do you have any idea how frightened I was?”

“We all were,” muttered the comte.

Catherine stared into Emmanuel’s clear blue eyes, wanting to apologize, wanting to throw herself at his feet and sob.
He is here.

Two more men approached the table. “Are we in time for the declarations, Dom?” Monsieur Henri bowed and sat languidly across from her as Monsieur Cédric laughed and circled the table to sit to her right. There really wasn’t room at the table for five. The grumpy serving woman approached with an adolescent boy hefting a small table. The gentlemen stood as everything was rearranged, Emmanuel still glowering at her.

He looked even more like he was going to shout. She reached out to put her hand on his arm, but as she was on his right, she didn’t want to hurt him. She clenched her hands in her lap instead.

He placed his left hand on the table, palm down, and spread his fingers before clenching them into a fist. “So frightened.”

“That’s as far as he’s got?” asked Monsieur Henri lightly. “You’ve at least ordered us some wine, Dom?”

Emmanuel growled, which made them all jump. “This would be a lot easier without an audience,” he complained, his voice low and harsh.

Monsieur Cédric leaned back and looked toward the kitchen door. “Make it quick, Manu, I think our soup’s coming.”

He closed his eyes and rubbed his face. “
Taisez-vous
,” he grunted at his brothers, who grinned at each other but stopped talking.

This time, when he set his fist on the table, Catherine covered it with her hand. “I’m sorry. I panicked. I was about to come back.” Even though she hadn’t made the decision yet when the comte arrived, she knew she would have. It might not have happened until the next day, but she would never have gone alone to Normandy, and not just because she was low on funds. She could never have left Emmanuel. She wouldn’t have left the baronesse thinking she was guilty, either.

His scowl eased, though he didn’t smile. “Never leave without me.”

Her heart melted. They had both been left so many times. “I won’t.”

He opened his hand and grabbed her wrist, his face filled with pain. “Don’t leave me.”

She felt tears trickle down her cheek, and Monsieur Cédric held out a handkerchief, which she ignored while she leaned forward and gripped Emmanuel’s left hand with both of hers. “I’ll stay.”

Emmanuel brought both of her hands up to kiss them. “Will you come with me to Poitou?”

She smiled. “I have a farm in Normandy.”

He smiled, and her heart began to beat again. “Maman mentioned a property, but made it sound like nothing.”

She shook her head. “It’s less than a hundred hectares.”

“So only a hundred horses?” His eyes were soft and his smile broad.

She leaned forward, lost in his blue eyes. “Maybe only fifty or sixty, since some is rocky and part is wooded. There are about fifty hectares in flax now, which could be turned to pasture.”

Monsieur Henri coughed, and they both jumped. “She’s tempting you with pasturage, Manu. Typical femme fatale, you know. You should probably marry her before dragging her off.”

She felt herself blush. Emmanuel’s cheeks went red, too.

Monsieur Cédric chuckled. “All this talk of hectares is getting your blood up, I can tell, mon frère. But you’re going to have to ask her later to marry you, because this is definitely our soup now. Get your elbows off the table and sit up straight.”

As soon as they had bowls in front of them, the Comte de Bures asked, “Do you have family we should contact to arrange contracts, Mademoiselle? Your father’s brother, I believe, would have been your guardian?”

She set her spoon down and dabbed at her mouth. “He’s never been a real guardian. I’ve been a companion since my parents died. I’m twenty-four and have full ownership of my land and savings.” Her stomach turned at the thought of her drunken uncle. “He has only ever contacted me through lawyers, trying to take my mother’s property in Normandy from me. Even when he’s at court he acts like I am invisible.”

The other men grimaced and went back to eating. When Monsieur Cédric finished, he leaned back in his seat and waved for a servant to take his plate. “I suppose that unless Henri changes his mind and wants the Poitou property, it will go to my second son, eh? Now no one needs it. Everyone in this generation is settled, and I have four boys and a girl to provide for, just as Papa did.”

Monsieur Henri shook his head. “I don’t want it. I’m not cut out for farming. I prefer the manufactory and Paris. And I will never have an heir.”

Catherine inhaled sharply. She had never heard anyone in the family mention Henri’s lack of wife so casually, having only heard his mother complain about how embarrassing it was.

Cédric nodded. “Yes, but the land earns a tidy income. Unless you rent it out for almost nothing to your brother, like Jean-Louis did for Manu.”

Emmanuel blushed and glanced at her. “I won’t marry you for your land.”

She felt her cheeks get hot again. “If it weren’t for my land, you would have the land in Poitou.”

Emmanuel shook his head. “Yours is better.”

“You’ve never seen it.”

He smiled, and his eyes darted down to her lips, making her want his kiss.

Monsieur Henri groaned. “Flirting with hectares again.”

They both blushed and looked away. His knee bumped against her skirts under the table, and she blushed again, but when his leg pushed closer until it rested against hers, she instead felt a rush of affection and desire.

Chapter Twelve

The ride back was much quicker but still far too long for Manu, whose arm was on fire. He was afraid he would take off the bandages and find it red and suppurating. He knew it was going to be swollen, and he would likely have a fever for a few days, but infection would not have set in yet, even if it did later and…

He yawned hugely.

He hoped he’d be able to sleep. It was still light, but surely his family wouldn’t mock him if he went straight to bed? The surgeon had told him to go to bed, and he hadn’t, of course.

He couldn’t regret having gone in search of Catherine. He smiled at her where she rode in silence on her chestnut mare.

When he caught her eye, she blushed and smiled back.

So beautiful.

****

Emmanuel, already pale, wobbled in his saddle for most of the last league. Catherine asked him several times if he wouldn’t like to rest, but each time he sat up straight again and smiled blearily at her. When the Comte de Bures asked if he’d rather someone ride ahead and send back a carriage, Emmanuel snapped at him, his words slurred.

They rode directly to the side door closest to the baron’s apartments. The baron and a flock of servants waited for them, the former laughing and chatting idly with passing nobles. Catherine had her old sting of anger because he was so friendly with everyone except the baronesse and those who were close to her. Now that he was mending fences with his wife, Catherine had no reason to hold a grudge. But since he was a force in the baronesse’s life again, Catherine was no longer her patroness’s right hand. She was half relieved, half disappointed.

Emmanuel smiled at his father, his eyes mere slits, his grin tipsy. He swung down from his horse awkwardly and landed with only a slight waver. When he tried to walk, though, his legs gave out under him. His father caught him and bustled him to a sedan chair. Monsieur Cédric helped Catherine down, and she heard Emmanuel declare he could not ride if his lady had to walk. He tried to open the door to climb out of the palanquin, but she held the door closed.

“Catherine.” He smiled at her drunkenly, though he’d only had one glass of wine at the inn. In the shadows, the dark circles under his eyes made him look gaunt. There were feverish pink spots on his pale cheeks.

She glanced at his arm and noticed the sling had blood on it. Her heart fell. “I’ll wait for them to take you up, Emmanuel. Then they can come get me.”

He leaned back in the seat, so she waved for the servants to carry him in.

The baron paused by her. “You will wait for the palanquin?”

She shrugged. “No. I’ll walk. But I couldn’t tell him that or he would have said he would walk, too.”

The baron chuckled and held out his arm. On the way up, she stumbled on the stairs and had to rest at the landings.

“You should have waited for the sedan chair, Mademoiselle. It’s no shame to be exhausted after the day we’ve all had.” The baron squeezed her hand. “It looks like we’ll be up all night, taking turns with Manu. The baronesse said she will go first, as she wishes to retire early. If you would like to stay with him for an hour after her, the rest of us will work out a watch schedule.”

Catherine paused. “You will watch over him yourselves, not set a servant?”

The baron smiled. “While we have many servants who are almost family, there is nothing as calming as true family. Now, who should we talk to in your family to arrange a marriage? I suppose you and Manu are getting married, n’est-ce pas?”

She looked down at where her hand rested on the baron’s arm. “We haven’t spoken of it, precisely.”

“Ah? Well, then I will speak of it. There are no impediments, are there? No previous claims on you, no arrest warrants, no extraordinary sins?”

She shook her head, but her anxiety about Anne’s accusations came back. “I fear the baronesse’s maid will implicate me in the poisoning.”

The baron squeezed her hand again. “Bizarrely, she never returned with the Musketeers after she told Marie she was fetching them. We never found the poison she said was in your room, and Marie said your purse had been stolen. We are fairly confident you didn’t do it.”

She nodded.

“We were certain before the maid implicated herself, so don’t worry. Besides, you didn’t handle the baronesse’s food and drink when you were at my house, and Anne did. “

Catherine nodded, her heart lighter. “The baronesse will need a new companion.”

The baron laughed. “She will have me. And a maid who can be trusted. And her friends. I won’t insist she sever ties with them, though I hope she will get to know my friends, too. And her children and grandchildren.”

“She will always be welcome with me. I owe her a great deal.” Catherine was marrying her best-loved son. The baronesse had given her a home and security. The baronesse would never replace Catherine’s own late mother, but beneath the gruffness, she had cared for Catherine.

“Whom do we talk to in your family?”

Catherine shook her head. “No one. I have full ownership of my property and savings. But the Comte de Bures already asked me this.”

The baron grinned at her. “I should have expected it. He was always a better father to Manu than I. But then, Manu refused to speak to me for many years. Luckily, he fell into Dom’s clutches and under Aurore’s spell. You’ll find Aurore’s attentions are insidious.”

Catherine jerked her head around at the sound of a lady’s laugh. The Comtesse de Bures strode toward them. “Oh, Papa! Insidious! You saw me there!”