A Bordeaux Dynasty: A Novel (60 page)

Jules stepped out of the judge’s office, delighted. At the beginning of the meeting, the judge asked him a few questions of formality, but then, reassured by the presence of Mr. Vernon, who was a member of his bridge club, he’d begun a real conversation. The three men had talked about this and that, common friends, the great memories that Aurélien had left behind him, the flawless reputation of wines produced at Fonteyne.

“I’m still not certain,” the judge had admitted, “what exactly Mrs. Samson’s argument rests on.”

He’d uttered the attorney’s name with a hint of reticence, before adding, “I hate those money-making cases.”

That’s what he called procedures that were fueled by one obvious thing: greed.

And he’d even concluded, “That woman gets on my nerves.”

He’d tried to hit on Valérie Samson a few years ago, and she’d turned him down. Since then, she’d been an enemy of his. Jules had realized that he was lucky, but made no disparaging comments about the attorney. He’d even forced himself to speak of Alexandre in measured terms, depicting him as a nice but weak fellow, a man as naïve as he was lazy. Going through the dossier absentmindedly, the judge had said that he saw absolutely no proof of any sort of mismanagement on Jules’s part. Mr. Varin had then emphasized the fact that Jules’s two other brothers, both extremely respectable men, whose motives could not be doubted, had total confidence in Jules.

The meeting had ended with cordial handshakes. Before leaving Jules in the halls of the courthouse, Mr. Vernon had expressed his optimism for the case but advised Jules not to undertake any important financial transactions so that the books remained as they were at that moment. That point was the only one that was cause for concern. The deal struck with Frédérique had included transferring funds. Jules decided not to get into any details with his lawyer about that, preferring to confer with Varin first.

On the courthouse steps, he ran into Valérie Samson, who stopped to say hello.

“I’m so happy to see you!” she said with a blinding smile. “I was looking for someone to have a drink with. This heat is unbearable and I hate drinking alone. Would you join me?”

Not waiting for an answer, she grabbed him by the hand and said, “I know of a wonderfully cool bistro nearby. You just saw the judge? What a boring, old geezer, don’t you think?”

She laughed and, with her free hand, pushed back her mane of red hair. They walked into a dark and fancy-looking bar before Jules had time to say a word. Once in a booth, she ordered some champagne.

“Of course,” she said, “it would be immoral for me to drink to your health.”

She burst into a very expressive laugh. She wore a blouse and a white skirt that highlighted her features. Susceptible to the charms of women, Jules wound up smiling in spite of himself.

“Here we are,” she said, “the first week of September, and the judicial vacations have all ended. Unlike them, I’ve never been the type to sit around doing nothing all day.”

There was something attractive and different about her that struck Jules. He loved strong personalities, and he’d been deprived of any since Aurélien’s death.

He raised his champagne glass, hesitated for a second, and then said, “Cheers.”

He had a couple of sips, though he didn’t much like champagne at this time of day.

“Very smart,” she said, “your idea of hiring Vernon. Very clever. He’s just as sinister as the judge. They’re like two peas in a pod. … Are you in a hurry?”

Jules, who’d glanced at his watched, apologized.

“You have to understand,” he added, “the harvest is only a month away.”

He said the words with his irresistible smile. Valérie Samson suddenly felt her heart tremble.

She leaned over the table and said, “Do you know why I accepted your brother’s case? So I could meet you.”

Taken aback, Jules frowned.

“I should come out and say it. I’ve been hearing about you for a long time.”

“Who talked to you about me?”

Jules’s sincere look of surprise made her laugh.

“Everybody! You’ve always been the favorite topic of conversation among a certain strata of people in these parts. You know that, don’t you? You’re part of an extremely prestigious family, and there’s your legendary father, his mistresses, your adoption, all that. … But more than anything else is that you’re a heartthrob according to a great number of ladies in the region. Many of them dream of you!”

Jules, not knowing what to say, simply shrugged.

“I have at least two girlfriends,” she said, “who go on and on about you. One of them wound up in bed with you once, and she still talks about it. …”

She was so direct he almost blushed. He didn’t ask for any names, but he held her gaze.

“And I must say,” she added, “that I can see why women react to you that way. Even a woman my age.”

She paused a second for effect.

“You see, I’m forty-three years old,” she said. “Would you have dinner with me?”

“No, I …”

“Yes.”

He took out a cigarette to mask his embarrassment. She waited until he took a puff, then she grabbed his cigarette and put it out in the ashtray.

“I don’t like the way Gitanes smell. You stank up my office with them the other day. You must be one of the last men in France smoking that stuff.”

She rummaged through her purse, took out her pack of smokes, and lit an ultralight cigarette, which she handed him. Jules saw through her scheme to throw him off balance, but he took the cigarette anyway.

“You’re such a model husband that you can’t come home at ten just one night?”

Jules got up.

“My wife is expecting and she’s not doing very well. …”

Valérie also got to her feet, slowly. She walked over to Jules, and he was immersed in her perfume. He turned aside to put money on the table. He barely felt the hand that was grazing the back of his neck, under his curls. He moved aside, respectfully.

“Why don’t you go first, Mr. Laverzac, since you’re in such a hurry?”

Her voice was hard.

He walked out of the bar without turning back.

Dominique struggled in silence, for fear of waking up the twins. Tonight, she was fiercely determined not to give in. Alexandre had already forgotten about the time before, and again he convinced himself she was playing a game by resisting him. Without violence, but with his entire weight, he pinned her to the bed.

“Let go of me!” she whispered.

He simply laughed. He was heavy and gave off of a smell of sweat, the result of the heat as much as all he’d had to drink. He lifted Dominique’s blouse and put a hand on her bra. She shivered, repulsed by this forced contact. She grabbed Alex’s hair and pulled it with all her might. She managed to make him topple over to one side, but he kept on grabbing her, hurting her breasts. She bit her lips to keep from moaning and began to cry.

“You vile pig,” she managed to utter.

She was able to straighten up but he pushed her back down on the bed and tried to spread her legs. He was breathing hard, and Dominique felt like she might vomit. Without thinking, she gave him a clumsy slap to the face. He reacted by punching her. The world dimmed as she felt herself go limp, fighting to cling to consciousness.

“I’m going to teach you not to fight back,” Alexandre growled.

He began pounding her with his fist, and it was only when he saw blood spilling from her burst lip that, suddenly horrified, he stopped hitting.

“Dominique,” he whispered. “Dominique …”

She crawled out of bed and staggered to her feet. He didn’t try to stop her, aware of what he’d just done.

Jules woke with a start. He turned on Aurélien’s nightstand lamp. It was three in the morning. He pushed off the sheet and grabbed his pair of jeans, which he quickly put on. He ran down the hallway and wound up in the castle’s vast entrance hall. He unlocked the main door, opened it, and froze at the sight of Dominique. She collapsed in his arms before he had time to do anything. He held her, gesturing for the twins to come in. The light pouring down from the large chandelier crudely illuminated the young woman’s swollen, bloody face.

“Hey, kids,” Jules said to the children. “Looks like your mom’s not feeling too well. But it’s nothing we can’t take care of, okay? Things are going to be all right.”

He slipped one arm under Dominique’s knees, picked her up, and took her to the library, where he gently set her down on the sofa.

“Guys,” he said, “why don’t you get that bottle of cognac over there? And a glass.”

He talked to them in a strong, calm voice, having noticed how pale and silent they were. Holding Dominique’s head, he forced her to have a sip.

“Your mom fell down, huh?” he said. “She’s going to be all right, I promise. Why don’t you guys go upstairs and get your aunt Laurène? Just turn on all the lights as you go up.”

He glanced over his shoulder at the twins.

“Why don’t you wake up your uncle Louis-Marie, too, okay?”

The twins nodded without smiling. They looked traumatized.

“Go on!” Jules told them. “And turn on all the lights in this castle!”

As soon as they left the room, Dominique began to cry. Jules held her tight against him, slowly rocking her. He was devastated at the sight of her swollen, bruised face.

“You’re safe here,” he whispered to her. “You’re home and we’re going to take care of you.”

“The boys …” she muttered. “I couldn’t leave them there. …”

“Of course. We’re going to spoil them. They’re going to be fine. …”

He took a deep breath before asking, “Alex did this to you?”

Dominique’s expression hardened, and her entire body tightened. She tried to close her torn blouse. Sensing Louis-Marie’s silent presence behind him, Jules bit his lips in an attempt to control the rage that engulfed him. Then he turned to his brother, who was taking off his housecoat to drape it over Dominique’s shoulders.

“What’s the story for your boys?” he asked.

Dominique’s smile was pathetic.

“Whatever you want,” she said, sounding utterly exhausted.

“I’ll go to Mazion tomorrow morning,” Jules whispered to his brother.

“No way,” said Louis-Marie. “I’m going to take care of this.”

Anger was all over Jules’s face. But they didn’t have time to say any more about it, as Laurène, haggard, appeared in the library. She ran to her sister, dropped to her knees right in front of her, and began trying to console her. Jules and Louis-Marie tiptoed out of the room. In the entrance hall, the twins were sitting on the steps shoulder to shoulder, Botty at their feet. Jules gave them a big smile.

“So, I bet you guys are hungry. …”

“You take the one on the left,” Louis-Marie said, “and I’ll get the one on the right.” He could never tell which one was which, they were so much alike.

Jules and Louis-Marie picked up the kids and carried them to the kitchen on their shoulders.

Jules called Dr. Auber over and demanded a medical report when he stepped out of the room where Dominique had settled. The certificate for assault and battery was put away in the office safe. Jules’s anger wouldn’t go away. Louis-Marie came back from Mazion saying that Alex felt horrible for what happened and was ready to do whatever it took to make amends. He called their fight a “lovers’ quarrel” and, in order not to worry Marie too much, as she stood by listening, Louis-Marie didn’t disagree when he claimed that they’d just insulted each other and that he’d slapped her once or twice. Louis-Marie told Alex that Dominique was going to stay at Fonteyne with the kids for a while to relax. Before leaving Mazion, he’d been able to talk privately with Alex. He didn’t try to lecture him, but he did describe the way Dominique looked. Head low, Alex had promised not to drink any more.

“A drunk’s promise,” Jules said.

Revolted, exasperated, he could only think of one thing: his brother receiving the punishment he deserved. And Antoine certainly couldn’t be counted on to do it.

“You are not going to Mazion,” Louis-Marie insisted.

Until they knew what Dominique wanted, they mustn’t intervene, he said.

“The timing of some kind of physical attack on Alex would be very bad right now,” Louis-Marie said. “Just ask our attorney. …”

And because Louis-Marie had used the word
our
, Jules agreed to stay put. He tried to get over his rage by marching back and forth through his vineyards for several hours, losing an exhausted Lucas, who’d tried to keep up with him.

Fernande figured she’d take care of Dominique’s boys, but Laurène, suddenly emerging from her apathy, decided to take care of the twins herself. As school was starting two days later, she took them to a store so she could buy supplies and, more importantly, to entertain them. After she parked the Civic in the barn, Bernard helped the kids unload the trunk and carry everything inside the castle. As Laurène was about to leave the barn, she noticed Jules’s silhouette in the shadows, leaning against the back wall. She walked up to him determinedly.

“The twins are doing well,” she said. “They had lots of fun in town. …”

Jules smiled, grabbed her hand and pulled her to him.

“That Bernard kid,” he said, “I think he’s in love with you!”

Laurène burst out laughing at the thought of such a silly idea. Jules held her by the shoulder and guided her outside the barn.

“So,” he said in a soft voice, “you’re done with the afternoon-long naps?”

“Well, I was needed, wasn’t I?”

Jules liked his wife’s resolute look.

“Are you still mad at me?” he asked, almost timidly.

She stopped walking and looked straight at him.

“For neglecting me? Yes, I’m still mad at you about that. If you only knew how much I love you. … But I know I’m still not a good wife, that I’m blaming you for a lot of things, and that I don’t do much around here. … You’re overworked while I stay in bed. And …”

“No! No …”

He leaned toward her. He didn’t want her to be so hard on herself, knowing he had plenty more to feel guilty about than she did.

“That child that Frédérique had, there’s nothing I can do about that now. … I didn’t know about it. But I can’t stand you being so unhappy. It’s killing me. …”