Chapter Two
Whatever Trebout was feeling that night, he needn’t have felt foolish. The exquisite lace of Marie’s traveling dress was enough to make the ostler of the Meriwether recognize a very rich customer, disregard the lateness of the hour, and procure for her the finest rooms available. Whether the lace was enough to please Aunt Adelie was not to be known; Trebout arrived shortly after dawn with the rest of Marie’s wardrobe and a carriage to take her to her brother’s ducal estate in grand style. Aunt Adelie, upon her niece’s arrival, ran her steely grey eyes up and down Marie’s garb without comment, choosing instead to remark in tones of great distaste, “You’ve become exceedingly brown, Marie. Your complexion is quite spoilt.”
Marie gave her aunt a dutiful kiss and demurred. “Hardly, Aunt. Behold my face, pale as ever!”
Aunt Adelie sniffed, and turned instead to the other houseguests who had arrived on the scene to greet the incomparable Mlle. De La Flote themselves.
“Since my nephew is shockingly absent, I shall introduce her myself.” She sniffed again, and made her known. The guests greeted her with the deference deserving of her rank and fortune, and Marie sincerely hoped she’d bathed sufficiently to remove the smells that still lingered from her ship.
Charles De La Flote arrived on the scene with a great show of brotherly affection, very much like a duke should be with his hair powdered and his beribboned cane making quite a lot of noise on the marble floors.
“Pale as ever,” he murmured to his sister, causing her to fling an amused glance in her aunt’s direction. “I wonder if you should, for our ball, be poudrée.” Charles wondered aloud. “No,” he continued after a moment’s reflection. “You shall keep your black hair. And you shall wear green.”
The guests having dispersed to find breakfast, Marie, who insisted they not wait on her, went up to her room and gazed in admiration at the exorbitance. While she appreciated such superfluity once in awhile, she found that dwelling in it too long made her feel stifled. She heard it was her father in her; ironically, it was the late Duke’s intrepid spirit that got him killed. Marie, though taking on a much more dangerous position, was not dead yet.
Charles, however, took after his mother. He knew his duty as head of the family and kept out of all things adventurous. Marie found this a dead bore, but Charles was generous; he financed her piracy simply because he knew it made her happy. But he did not attempt to keep up with Uma LaRoche’s latest entanglements or whereabouts. Not in an unaffectionate way, however. Charles was merely too placid to care. And so Marie De La Flote was in actuality the infamous female captain of the North Atlantic. This was a secret only four people knew, and for the sake of Marie’s reputation, those four would carry their secret to the grave.
So it was that Aunt Adelie, like everyone else, thought Marie was gracing the ballrooms of every contented hostess from London to Paris. Adelie knew quite well Marie was over twenty years old, and though she could hardly be said to nag, her favorite question to pose to her niece was, “How many offers of marriage have you received?”
“Four,” was Marie’s unhesitant reply that evening at dinner. Though Adelie hardly conversed on such subjects to the general public, she had by the third course allowed her neighbors-at-table to be distracted by one of Charles’ spontaneous oral dissertations on the merits of riding in the Park in the morning as opposed to the late afternoon.
“It is then,” he was saying, “that one may see more of the true gentry and fewer of the young upstarts vying for unwonted attention. The point of the promenade is to see and be seen by everyone, and no showy Corinthian driving his matching grays in the latest fashion should detract from this general aim.”
M. Dariot demurred; he was rather fond of showing off his matching black horses.
Aunt Adelie could not possibly care less about such things and continued on the subject much dearer to her heart.
“Four? That’s more than the last time I asked you. And what, I ask, was wrong with any of those four? Marie, I suspect you’re not half trying.”
“What was wrong with my proposals, you ask?” Marie strained to keep her voice low. “Christophe Aiton was disgustingly foxed and didn’t mean a word of it; Serge Badeau is old enough to be my grandfather, and-”
“Never mind that. How is it that as fashionably dark and exceedingly rich as you are, you have not been married years hence? Think of the family name!”
“The family name, dear Aunt, is hardly in danger of dying out. But if that’s truly what you’re worried about, do speak to Charles on the subject. I think that between stuffy bluestockings and scheming fortune-hunters, he’s given up on finding a wife.”
“He shouldn’t be so picky.”
“Dear Aunt, the rich are the only ones who can be so.”
Aunt Adelie grunted, and took tea. After a moment of reflection, she continued. “I believe I have found a young man who may interest you.”
“Aunt! For Heaven’s sake!”
“Because he cares not at all about fortune and is a great thinker. He’s the one I introduced you to earlier: Gervaise Belmont. He lives in Paris. You may have seen him.”
Marie had not seen him, in fact. She had been on a pirate ship near Italy, and knew nothing at all of the season in Paris. And while she hated to deceive her aunt, she knew that revealing of the truth was impossible. So she replied with a noncommittal “I don’t think so,” and Adelie left it at that.
Though naturally an optimist, Marie was beginning to feel that this particular house party was not going to be an awfully exciting affair.
With the arrival of Uncle Guillaume Legard the house party improved in both excitement and number. Delightful as Uncle Guillaume was, his niece was rather dismayed when he introduced the “charming” young Marcel Nefis, who kissed her hand and didn’t seem to want to let go of it.
Marie was, of course, never daunted by unimpressionable and obnoxious young men (in fact, she worked with them every day). This time, however, she was rather put out and caught in the clutches of a dilemma. Common courtesy demanded she not ignore either “charming young man” outright, but to prefer one over the other would upset the current peace between Uncle Guillaume and Aunt Adelie.
As it turned out, the matter was decided for her. The house party as yet was made up of the four family members, three young men, and three other couples including M. and Mme Renouet. Thus there were no ladies Marie’s age and while she spent her evenings after dinner conversing with the older married ladies, the rest of her free time was demanded by Marcel Nefis.
M. Belmont quickly fell into camaraderie with Charles and M. Dariot and therefore while they played at pool, M. Nefis declined their invitations and made a habit of seeking out Marie’s company. Marie could have been touched by such dedication, especially since the estate was a very large one and finding her in it could take hours. Instead she was disgusted and missing her crew rather badly.
The afternoon after Guillaume’s arrival, Nefis found Marie reading in the library. Hailing her as his “raven-haired goddess” he advanced into the room and shut the door.
Rather than feeling panic rise within her, Marie felt a wave of annoyance. Instinctively she reached for her sword and promptly realized it wasn’t there. So she stepped behind a chair and took a firm grip on the weighty tome in her hands.
“How fitting for you to be reading Greek plays, Juno,” he said.
“Juno is a Roman goddess,” she corrected, and he shrugged.
“Why did you shut the door?” She asked placidly, before he could go on.
Startled, he blinked and turned to look at the door. “I hadn’t realized I had done so,” he said innocently.
“Of course not,” her eyes narrowed. “I don’t want to offend you, M. Nefis. But I believe you know the reason my uncle brought you here and it won’t serve. Especially not with your manners.
M. Nefis feigned offense and put a hand to his heart. “Nymph!” He exclaimed in tones of deep sorrow, “What have I done to deserve such scorn?” He advanced upon her person, but Marie kept the chair between them.
“You haven’t ceased to call me such disgusting terms of endearment as ‘angel, nymph, and goddess’ since you arrived. To get back in my good graces you may address me by my proper name and cease to follow me like a greyhound.”
M. Nefis had her wrist now and was attempting to skirt around the chair.
“Aphrodite, it is your uncle’s desire that we become better acquainted, and I am merely attempting to-”
“My uncle,” Marie interrupted, dancing around the chair and shoving the book into Nefis’ stomach, “has despicable taste!”
M. Nefis had nothing to reply to this but a pained grunt. However, a light kindled in his eyes as he sank into the chair and watched her walk sedately to the door.
“My dearest niece!” Uncle Guillaume exclaimed. “Where have you been hiding all day?” He sat astride his dappled grey and watched with approval as she cantered her own silvery gray mare up to his mount. The whole house party was out riding and enjoying the fine weather and relative peace before the other guests arrived.
“Hiding, Uncle? No: I’ve merely been helping Vasseigh and the others prepare for the ball. Cook was out of salmon so I-”
“Nonsense! What do you know about planning a ball? I’ve too often lamented your lack of management skill.” He wiggled his eyebrows. “Unless perhaps your travels have taught you more than I thought…?”
“Don’t start on my travels, Uncle. Aunt Adelie has already discussed them with me enough. And I suspect you’re hinting at the same topic she was, and you’re welcome to drop it!”
“What, you don’t like Marcel?” He sounded put out.
“For Heaven’s sake, Uncle! He’s a toad! Where did you find him?”
“Does that matter? Really, Marie. For once in my life I agree with your aunt. You must not be trying hard enough if you haven’t found a husband yet.”
“Why this sudden desire to see me married? Between you and Aunt I’m beginning to wish I’d stayed in Italy.”
“I thought it was Paris.”
“That’s what I meant. Really, it’s all the same to me.”
“Bored, eh? Well, that’s good to hear.”
“What?”
“What I mean is, well: you know this ball is a celebration of my return from America. See, I have an announcement to make tomorrow night that might interest you. Get rid of your boredom, I mean.”
This was worrisome news.
“What are you planning, Uncle?”
“You’ll see, you’ll see,” he said enigmatically, wiggling his eyebrows again.
Just then, Nefis dropped behind to join them and Guillaume cantered ahead to leave the two in peace.
postscript
This is the admittedly not quite as interesting character development chapter. It's necessary to the story, however, so I hope you like it. Inciting incident immediately following! Happy reading! Again, don't forget to push the paragraph button for easier reading. I fear typos. I don't think I proofread it. lol. chapter one: [link]