A Bordeaux Dynasty: A Novel (9 page)

Taken aback, she glanced at him, then lowered her eyes to the pack of Gitanes he was handing her.

“It’s an odd idea. … Your brothers being here, this isn’t really the ideal time to go out, is it?”

He felt a sort of anguish he’d never experienced before and had to swallow his saliva before saying, “Okay, then, let me tell you …”

Again he stumbled and stopped speaking, unable to continue. He stood up, avoiding Laurène’s gaze.

“What I mean to … Christ, this is hard!”

Laurène remained quiet. She’d waited for this moment for such a long time, and now that it was happening she almost didn’t want it anymore. There was something about Jules, with his disheveled curly hair, his lean frame, and obvious shyness that was very touching. She stopped looking at him and put out the cigarette she’d just lit.

“I’m just going to come out and say it,” muttered Jules. He tried to smile. “I think I’m in love with you, Laurène.”

She squeezed the ashtray between her fingers, paralyzed by what Jules had just told her. She tried to gather her thoughts, but she wasn’t able to. The silence in the room was unbearable, and suddenly she was upset with him for the abruptness of his confession, even if she knew how hard it must’ve been for him to speak up. For the past two days, all she’d thought about was Robert. She’d managed to get Jules out of her mind, and now there he was throwing everything upside down at the worst possible moment.

With a tight smile, she joked, “This dawned on you just this second?”

He wasn’t saying anything, and she didn’t dare raise her eyes. Because she felt clumsy, confused, she suddenly expressed the bitterness she’d felt for a long time.

“Aurélien gave you the green light?”

He was ten years older than she was, but he felt like a kid that had been caught doing something bad. He couldn’t really contradict her on that point.

As for Laurène, she realized that all she’d had to do to make him decide was to look at another man. …

“Listen …” she said, her voice now soft.

“No, stop.”

Jules spoke with a coarse voice that wasn’t normal for him. He walked by Laurène and headed for the exit. He hesitated, his fingers on the door handle, then he turned around to look right at her.

“I’m sorry. I’m putting you in an impossible situation. Forget what I just told you. I promise not to bother you about it anymore.”

Laurène was going to respond when Alexandre barged in, ramming into Jules.

“Is Dad still sleeping? Good! What a morning I had!”

He made a beeline for Laurène’s chair and sat down.

“Things didn’t go all that well,” he said. “I had to give in a little … with old man Amel, I mean.”

“What?”

Jules took a step toward his brother.

“What do you mean, ‘give in a little’? Are you kidding me, Alex? Don’t tell me he invited you to lunch and you accepted an offer over coffee. Can you really be that useless?”

Jules spun on his heels and charged out of the room, slamming the door shut, without giving Alexandre time to say anything.

“What the hell does he think!” Alexandre exploded. “That it was easy?”

He turned to Laurène, eager for support.

“It’s getting harder and harder working with Jules. Did you see that? He didn’t even ask me about the figures!”

Noticing the tears in Laurène’s eyes, he added right away, “It’s not such a disaster, you know. …”

“Jules …”

“Yes, Jules would’ve done better. All he had to do was take care of it himself.”

“No,” Laurène managed to say. “He’s not … feeling right.”

“Jules? Ah, that’d be a first! With his iron constitution and his ironclad convictions. Just like Dad. Both of them rocks. …”

Alexandre got to his feet and left the room. He also slammed the door.

Aurélien woke up with a start and was stunned to see Jules standing right by the bed.

“I’m sorry,” he said, “but it’s four o’clock and the notary is here.”

“Already? Why did you tell him to come so quickly?”

“Because you seemed to be in such a hurry to see him this morning. It was either now or the day after tomorrow.”

Aurélien yawned before getting out of bed.

“You did good. I’m coming up.”

As Jules was leaving the room, Aurélien said, “You have a funny look on your face, son. Is something wrong?”

Instead of stepping out of the bedroom, Jules sat behind Aurélien’s antique desk. He put a hand in his pocket.

“You can’t smoke in here!” Aurélien said.

Jules watched his father get dressed and then run a comb through his hair.

“Did you see Alex? Is he back?”

“Yes. …”

Aurélien walked to Jules, suddenly worried.

“Don’t tell me that Amel snookered him,” he said. He stared at Jules and added, in a slow voice, “Well, we’ll see about that in a while. For now, I’m going up to talk to Varin, and I don’t want to be disturbed.”

Having noticed Jules’s unusually sad expression, he leaned toward him.

“Jules … You sure everything is okay?”

“Yes!” Jules said too quickly. He jumped to his feet and added, “I’m going over to the cellar. Lucas is waiting for me.”

Aurélien didn’t have time to say anything. Jules ran up the stairs and was out on the terrace in no time. He stopped there a second to light a cigarette. He felt nervous, out of sorts. Laurène’s reaction had shaken him, and that was all he could think about. He hurried off in the direction of the cellar, set on ridding himself of this cumbersome obsession.

Roland Varin, annoyed, raised his eyes to the ceiling. With his calm, professional demeanor, he said, “But, Mr. Laverzac, you can’t do such a thing.”

The notary waited in vain for Aurélien to come around. Fernande had poured some coffee for them, and Varin had already finished his, one small sip at a time.

“If I don’t do it,” Aurélien said, “Fonteyne is going to be split up within one year of my burial.”

“You favor Jules much too much,” the notary said. “It’s outrageous!”

“Outrageous? What do I care? As long as it’s legal. …”

Aurélien leaned over the table and, with his opened hand, slammed the paperwork in front of him.

“Legal!” he said again.

“You already made him the main shareholder with the disposable part of the estate,” the notary pointed out.

Aurélien shrugged and said, “So? If the three brothers take it badly and band together, then they’ll be the majority shareholders. That’s what I want to prevent at all costs.”

Roland Varin set his eyes on Aurélien before asking, “Why?”

“Louis-Marie and Robert don’t know anything about the wine industry,” Aurélien answered in all earnestness.

“What about Alexandre?”

“Alexandre?”

Irritated, Aurélien slashed the air with his hand. Varin, who kept his gaze on his client, finally sighed.

“Your company’s statutes are becoming more and more complicated,” he said. “And those last clauses have only one goal: to protect your youngest son. …”

“No! It’s to protect the estate. To preserve its integrity.”

“Aurélien … You care that much about what’s going to happen after you’re gone?”

The question, asked with compassion, took Aurélien by surprise. He gave a tight smile.

“I didn’t do all this work just so its fruits pay for sports cars or cruises on the Mediterranean. … My land doesn’t deserve to be sold off by incompetents to fools. … Fonteyne at the hands of the Brits or the Chinese or whatever. Can you imagine that, Roland?”

Varin thought about it silently.

Aurélien raised his voice: “Can you imagine that?”

“All right,” said the notary, subdued. “We’re talking about a share transfer. But there are going to be some fees. …”

“Only on the capital,” Aurélien said good-naturedly. “Not on the assets!”

“It’s a disguised donation,” the notary warned him. “You know that. …”

Aurélien could picture the scene as though he were there. His succession was, in some ways, an abstract topic, but he did take pleasure in thinking about it.

“They won’t dare. …” he said. “I know them inside out. Besides, this document is pretty much ironclad, right? They’ll choose dividends over a never-ending trial. Jules isn’t against them, he’s for Fonteyne, that’s all.”

Roland Varin allowed himself to crack a smile and said, “Just like you?”

“Just like me,” Aurélien admitted. “Name him manager for ninety-nine years.”

“That’s like giving him full power. …”

“That’s the idea! Including the sales and purchases of land. Nothing should be done without his consent.”

The notary was drumming on the folder he’d taken out of his briefcase when he first got to the house. He hated dealing with his clients’ business outside his own office.

“Aurélien … Are you ready to talk to Jules?”

“Talk about what?”

“He might want … Truthfully, you’re putting yourself in a perilous position. …”

Varin hesitated, trying to come up with the right words, aware that he was treading on delicate grounds.

“Sometimes,” he said, “we don’t know our own children as well as we think …”

Aurélien looked at the notary, saying nothing.

Grudgingly, Varin continued, “Jules is going to get married one of these days, and then other folks will be involved—his wife, sisters-in-law, other family members …”

“That’s what I’m afraid of! My daughters-in-law fighting over Fonteyne after I’m gone. It’d be a disaster! With this land grouping, I nip any future attempts in the bud. It’s necessary for Jules to have a free hand to do what’s best for the estate.”

Running out of arguments, the notary had no choice but to be more direct.

“And a free hand to turn against you, if he wants to.”

“Jules?” Aurélien burst into sincere laughter. “Don’t worry about Jules. I assure you, he won’t be a problem.”

“How can you be so sure? You have a crystal ball? It’s my professional duty to warn you: You’re taking a huge risk.”

“Concerning Fonteyne,” Aurélien said, “Jules is not the one we have to watch out for. It’s his brothers. It’s so obvious to me! I know my four sons inside out, and I don’t want to get into details with you. Just do what I’m asking. Modify the statutes, write up the documents, and send them my way as soon as possible. That’s it. …”

Aurélien stood up and Roland Varin, a bit stunned, realized that their meeting was over. He shook Aurélien’s hand and gathered his paperwork. He was unhappy about the turn of events, disapproving of Aurélien’s choices.

They crossed the hallway in silence, side by side. Varin discreetly glanced around him, as he did every time he came to Fonteyne.

“You really have a terrific house,” he muttered.

Aurélien smiled at him. The double doors to the library were open, and they could make out the rows of ancient books.

“When you come visit as a friend and not on business,” Aurélien said, “I’ll show you my latest purchase, a rare edition of Montesquieu that I found in Bordeaux.”

At the top of the front steps, Aurélien shook the notary’s hand once more.

“Please, hurry with those documents.”

“You’ll have them later on this week.”

Varin planted his eyes on his client’s and said, “Take care, Aurélien. “When I think of what’s going to happen in your office after you’re gone, I hope I die before you.”

Aurélien watched him go down the stairs and get into his car.

“What a dope,” he muttered, still in a good mood.

Pauline ended up putting her blouse over her bathing suit. No way she’d get a tan under this cloudy sky anyway. She had set up a beach chair in the back of the castle, away from everyone else, and that’s where Robert had come to join her. Sitting on the grass a few feet from her, he’d joked about her useless bottle of suntan lotion, then he’d kept quiet, not sure how to act.

Pauline watched him for a few minutes, hiding behind her sunglasses. She truly enjoyed Robert’s presence.

“Would you like some orange juice?” she asked, to break the silence.

He shook his head. He was incapable of thinking about anything but this woman right next to him. He was looking at her without really trying to hide what he was feeling. He’d dreamed about her so much, he felt a kind of exhilaration just watching her.

Pauline straightened in her chair.

“Why are you staring at me like that?” she asked.

Robert turned his head away, regretfully, and lay on his back. He’d picked up a blade of grass, and now he was munching on it.

“Why don’t you talk to me about yourself?” he asked.

Pauline burst out laughing. Robert’s attitude was such that it was easy to see that she still had an effect on him, in spite of all the years gone by.

“There’s not much to tell,” she said. “Your brother is a great husband …”

“Of course!” Robert said between his teeth. “If you were unhappy, I’d have challenged him to a duel, you know that. … Any more babies in your future?”

Pauline became serious.

“I had an extremely hard time giving birth to Esther. I haven’t tried too hard to get pregnant again since. …”

Everything she said moved Robert deeply. Not only was he not over Pauline, he was in the same frame of mind as the day they’d split up.

“You’re not working?” he asked.

“No! I have no interest in that. Besides, we’re always out, we travel. … Did you read Louis-Marie’s latest book?”

“No. …”

She got off her chair to go sit by him.

“He was nervous to see you again, you know. … He’s so relieved that the two of you have made peace. It’s been weighing on him a lot these past six years.”

“Well, same here!”

“Robert … Be serious and listen to me.”

He lay on his stomach and rested his chin on his hands.

“Okay,” he said. “Let’s be serious! Leave him and come live with me.”

She burst out laughing once more but moved away from him a bit.

“Stay,” he said. “I was kidding.”

An uncomfortable silence fell between them. Robert was rediscovering, intact, the pain he’d endured for so long.

“It’s going to rain,” Pauline said, looking at the sky.

“And once again it’s going to be mayhem and chaos in the house. I hear that your tour this morning ended in a deluge.”