The Honorable Officer (14 page)

They stood pressed against each other for a long time, her heart beating rapidly. His seemed rather fast also—she could feel the pulse in his neck. She shivered, not knowing if she should pull away or put her arms around him.

“Would you marry me, Hélène?”

Quoi
?

Her mind went completely blank and her heart seemed to stop. “You do not have to offer because of my reputation.”

“I do. My sister would kill me.” He chuckled.

She thought in silence. She didn’t want to marry him for reputation. She’d been half in love with him from the first time she met him. Now, she was completely in love. She wanted his trust and respect. She wanted his love.

She almost told him no, but pressed her lips together. She could be his wife. She could stay with Ondine forever. She could sleep in his bed. The gentle hands which had caressed her cheeks and touched her hair, would touch her. He would do things she could only vaguely imagine. Even if he never loved her, he would take care of her.

She swallowed. “Oui,” she whispered.

He squeezed her tightly and then set her back. She raised her lorgnette to look at him. He did not betray any emotion other than a slight blush, which could have been pleasure or embarrassment or…what? She didn’t know.

“Come downstairs with me, and we’ll tell the others,” he said.

“I don’t think I can.” All those eyes looking at her, wondering what had happened upstairs…

He scowled.

She stepped back. “I am…” She was afraid of them, afraid they wouldn’t be happy about the betrothal.

He caressed her cheek, his rough fingers scratching her slightly as her face got unbearably hot. “I’ll tell them, then. And say you wished to be alone for a while.”

“Merci,” she said, thanking him for asking her to marry him as well as for letting her hide.

“I will send a note to the village
curé
to post banns,” he said.

He kissed her hand, then strode down the stairs.

She was disappointed in herself for her cowardice. She hoped she wouldn’t be too disappointing as a wife.

****

Jean-Louis leaned heavily against the wall at the bottom of the stairs to steady his legs. Perhaps he had been too blithe about offering marriage. Perhaps he had too much emphasized her reputation. Had it sounded like he was marrying her to hide what Amandine had done?

He had other worries. He would send for the priest. He supposed Dom had his own
curé
in his village. Perhaps he should ask for Dom’s help. He shook his head. He could figure this out on his own.

Could the Ménines be behind the attacks on Ondine? Improbable. They might gain control of the manufactory some distant time in the future, but it would not change their current circumstances. He wondered if they would have taken in Amandine’s bastard child. If Jean-Louis hadn’t come to Paris when he did, Amandine might have been able to hide it completely. He might never have known she had borne another child.

He shook his head. People at court and within his family had known she was pregnant. He brushed off his waistcoat and settled the folds of his coat. It was not like him to get sidetracked by old jealousy. Or to fuss with his clothing.

He called a servant for a quick word, then went back to the drawing room.

As soon as he stepped in, Aurore clamped onto his arm, her sweet face gone sour. “Idiot! I cannot believe you would even repeat those things. I thought you were kind. I told her you’re my favorite brother.”

“You said I was your favorite brother,” said Henri, mock-plaintively.

It was nice that some people could joke.

“You are all my favorite brothers.” She waved her hand dismissively. “But I thought you liked her. All of this running about to save her and then you doubted her? Idiot.” She flounced away and plopped on the divan.

Jean-Louis looked at the others to see if they thought he was an idiot, too. Other than Emmanuel, who was picking over the few books on the shelves, they frowned at him. He had been an idiot, but he wasn’t anymore. He hoped. He stiffened his spine to brave it out. “I have to doubt everyone. The assassins followed them from place to place, always finding them.”

“And in every case, other people have known where you were,” said Henri. “It took several days for someone to find them in the army camp, didn’t it? They found you immediately in Dijon; someone followed you from the camp.”

Jean-Louis flicked his coat out and sat. He paused, hating his weakness. “I am no good at subterfuge. I cannot detect it until it is too late.”

Henri laughed, his dour face transformed by glee. “The great general admits a fault!”

Aurore giggled. “Oh, we knew that already. The rest of us are sneaky. Except me.”

Henri snorted a laugh, and Dom grinned.

“Oh, all right. Even me.” She smiled sweetly. “But you are direct. Emmanuel is much the same way. He would make a good soldier.”

“Maman would never let me,” announced Emmanuel in a lofty, smug voice.

“Papa will drive you to the front himself and throw you out,” Henri sneered.

Emmanuel looked as if he would cry. Jean-Louis took pity on him. “He drove me to my first posting. The best uniform, two horses, everything without complaining of the expense. He cried a little.”

“Papa cried?” said Henri, brows drawing down.

“He must have cried when he left you at the monastery when you were fourteen,” said Jean-Louis.

“For good reason.” Henri’s mouth twisted as if he had tasted something foul. “Thanks to
Dieu
and all the saints he came back to fetch me after a few months.”

“You begged,” said Jean-Louis, trying very hard not to smirk.

“I did not…yes, I did beg. But you cannot just beg your way out of a siege,” said Henri.

“It was what I wanted,” said Jean-Louis. He had known from childhood he was meant to go into the army, and he embraced it.

Dom cleared his throat. “You never do what you do not want. If you truly do not want to marry Mademoiselle Hélène…”

“Dom! He has to!” said Aurore. “Oh, tell me you will.”

“I have already asked her, and she has agreed.” The thought of having Hélène near him forever spread through him like the glow from a warm drink.

“And there’s a fatuous smile,” said Henri. “Did you give her a direct order?”

Jean-Louis scowled. “She agreed her reputation was in danger. And we get along well. She will be all right at home taking care of Ondine when I am at a front. Or she could stay here, away from her family.”

Silence. Jean-Louis supposed they had discussed Amandine amongst themselves. He didn’t want to think about his late wife.

“So I have sent a man down to the
curé
, and he will post the banns.” He was more and more content with his decision. He would marry Hélène and then… And then what? Go back and prostrate himself before the Grand Condé and beg forgiveness? It might take longer than he had planned to become a general, but he would.

“And what will we do until then?” asked Henri. “I’ve left the Treasury Ministry. I don’t think Cédric told you that was why I was hanging around la Brosse. Dom and Aurore have to go back to de Bures soon, if they are going to travel before it is too late for Aurore.”

“I could have the baby here,” said Aurore.

“You really shouldn’t travel at all,” said Dom. “But I want the baby born in Paris, with the best physicians.”

Jean-Louis shuddered, knowing with Aurore’s history of miscarriages there might not be a baby no matter where she went.

Aurore smiled at her husband, so secure in his devotion to her, still hopeful of bearing him an heir. She glanced at Jean-Louis. “Dom will talk to the bishop in Poitiers so you can marry right away.”

Dom nodded.

Jean-Louis considered it. They should wed as soon as possible, just in case the attackers found them and they had to leave quickly. Here in the country he felt safer, but Ondine might still be in danger.

Henri said, “Manu and I will travel with you. Dom’s been training Manu with swords and muskets. Petit le Grand says he has potential, if only he didn’t complain so much.”

Emmanuel’s mouth turned down, though he didn’t look away from the book in his hands.

“Stop baiting him, Henri,” said Jean-Louis. “He’s only fourteen.”

“Fifteen.” Emmanuel glared at him, sitting up straighter.

“Fifteen,” said Jean-Louis. “Ready for your first commission, then.”

The boy rolled his eyes.

“Stop baiting him, Jean-Louis.” Henri smirked.

Jean-Louis’ mind went back to Hélène. “I need to investigate Ondine’s grandparents and their business partners. I need to know who would benefit if Ondine died. I am assuming her grandfather’s share would go to Ondine or to her future husband, but that is far in the future. It does not make sense to me.”

The others fell silent.

Henri scowled. “Have all the attacks occurred when Mademoiselle Hélène was present?”

“Yes,” said Jean-Louis. “Fire and possible shots at home. Fire and shots in the camp. Shots in Dijon—those were directed at me. Even though I was standing back from the window, they could not have mistaken me for Ondine.”

“They could have mistaken a shadow for Mademoiselle Hélène,” said Henri softly.

The silence in the room intensified.

“I considered that, but there are few reasons for someone to kill her,” said Jean-Louis.

Dom sat next to his wife and she leaned into his side. “Maybe she will inherit, too. What are the terms of her inheritance from her parents?”

“I have no idea, and neither does she,” said Jean-Louis. “The Ferands told her she has only a small dowry because everything went to pay her parents’ debts.”

“Wasn’t the manufactory handed to the husbands when they married?” asked Henri.

“Pardon? Which husbands?” Jean-Louis hadn’t been handed anything.

“Mademoiselle Hélène’s mother and her aunt were cousins, oui? There were no male heirs, so the business went to their husbands,” said Henri.

“Where did you hear that?” asked Jean-Louis, confused yet intrigued.

“Shouldn’t part of the factory have come to Hélène from her parents?” Henri smirked. “As bait? Sorry, as a dowry?”

Jean-Louis nodded.
Bait
.

Henri shrugged. “Monsieur Ferand expounded on it to Papa at your wedding. How he had married a fortune and you had married one, too.”

“He didn’t say that to me,” said Jean-Louis.

“He was bragging about how you would get a nice dowry and an interest in the business.”

“So you think they are trying to kill me so I won’t inherit their piece of the business? No, they were clear I was cut out after Amandine’s death. He changed his will so it goes directly to Ondine and her future husband.”

Henri shook his head. “I am saying there is a motive for killing Hélène if her death means she won’t come into her inheritance. Perhaps she will inherit in her own right when she marries or when she reaches her majority.”

Jean-Louis stared at his brother in amazement.

Henri shrugged. “I’ve studied the inheritance rights of females. At the Ministry, we had to untangle all the Fouquet business. His adviser’s will was contested because everything went to a niece instead of a distant male cousin. We had to determine if the will was valid.”

“So if Hélène inherited from her parents, her aunt and uncle have kept it quiet,” said Jean-Louis. “They kept her home and cowed so she wouldn’t get married and discover she had more dowry than she thought.” He shook his head. He didn’t think even the Ferands would do something as spiteful and grasping as that. Though maybe, if it benefited Amandine…

Aurore bounced slightly on her seat. “And now you will marry her and it will be yours. You can resign your commission and we won’t have to worry about you.”

“I cannot…” said Jean-Louis, but stopped short. He had already sent the letter to Condé offering to resign. And could he run a furniture business? He could hire a manager and stay in the army. If he weren’t executed for desertion.

Aurore grinned and squeezed his arm again. “You’ll need Fourbier to advise you on fabrics so you can rival Gobelins. My brother, furniture maker to the king!”

Jean-Louis shrugged. “I don’t think Fourbier will wish to go anywhere near Paris.”

The others looked surprised.

“I will ask him, but he fled from Paris to join the army. I know little more than that.” Jean-Louis would not give away his valet’s secrets. “And we need to ask Hélène if she knows more.”

He rose to go fetch Mademoiselle Hélène. His betrothed.

“Send a maid, Jean-Louis. You cannot just go charging to her bedchamber,” said Aurore.

She was right, of course.

The maid came back a few minutes later, saying Mademoiselle Hélène was in the nursery, as Ondine was awake.

“We need to return to her home to figure this out. Where would they have her parents’ will?” asked Jean-Louis.

“In the county seat and possibly a copy in Paris,” said Henri.

They heard footsteps on the stairs, and soon Ondine ran into the room. She stopped short and turned shy at all the large people looking at her, but Hélène came in after her and caressed the girl’s hair. Her face was composed, though she looked steadily at the floor.

Jean-Louis went to her, holding out his hand. She blushed. He lifted her hand to his lips and was lost in the sensation of her soft skin.

They stared at each other for a long moment, until Ondine said, “Tata Nénène?”

Jean-Louis crouched down in front of his daughter. “Your Tata and I are going to be married.”

The girl put her finger in her mouth, eyes round and wary.

Hélène murmured, “I don’t think she understands the word.”

“Well, then she will learn it.” Jean-Louis smiled up at his betrothed.

Aurore sighed loudly. He stood up, his face heating. He lifted Ondine up and kissed her cheek. “You must congratulate me and wish me happiness.”

Aurore clapped her hands. “And you will wear your new blue dress, chérie.”

“Dress.” Ondine grinned.

“I am glad to know a dress rates higher than my happiness,” said Jean-Louis.

He looked at Hélène again, and she smiled. He loved it when she smiled.