The Indispensable Wife Read online

  Several gentlemen fidgeted, but Aurore had to stand still or her knees would give out. When had she ever been so afraid of people looking at her? Always before, she had been able to speak at length about anything, to amuse, persuade, and charm anyone.

  The king let his hands drape elegantly from his armrests. “I believe, de Bures, that you are familiar with the old concept of single combat? That God shows his favor by allowing the man who is in the right to conquer his enemy in a fair fight?”

  A duel? Dom is not recovered enough. He is not strong enough. Whom would he fight? How could they guarantee a fair fight against outlaws?

  Dom bowed, then stood straighter, his eyes fiery. “At my château, we train boys and men in weapons and strategy and teach them the history of warfare. I was trained alongside them as a boy and have continued to practice.”

  The king nodded. “Since the case presented against you today contained nothing more than rumor and slander, I will not have you arrested.” He narrowed his eyes at the man who had first presented the case, who ducked his head. “The attacks upon you and your wife further lead me to believe that this is a plot against you and not one against me. However, since that rumor has endured intact for two months, I cannot help but remain suspicious.” The king shook his head. “I am sorry that it is so, but you were sent away from court as a boy because you challenged me at every turn.” Here he smiled slightly. “I could not have that. Not so soon after the Fronde. My mother did not like it, God rest her soul.”

  Everyone in the room crossed themselves for Queen Anne, who had died the last winter.

  “So I suggest that you gather what friends you have and confront the men who hold your château. I would prefer that you not kill anyone, as I hope to have the men responsible interrogated. But if you succeed and place the men into the hands of my soldiers, then I am more likely to see your case favorably.”

  He nodded to them and then sipped his wine again. Dom, Aurore, and Cédric were hustled out of the council chamber and left in the hall.

  Courtiers strolled past, clustering together in small groups to gossip.

  Aurore found the light from the windows too bright and the air too thin.

  Cédric sighed. “Well.”

  “I did not expect a trial.” Dominique’s angry growl made Aurore’s knees quiver again in fear.

  Cédric laid one hand on his shoulder and one on Aurore’s. “No one ever does. If they do, most have the good sense to flee. This was not a trial, merely an inquiry. I think the king was genuinely surprised that all that stood against you was rumor. No one presented any sort of proof at all. No co-conspirators. No secret activities. If I were to build a false case, I would at least have someone arrested and tortured until they admitted something.”

  “All I can wonder is that none of your messages made it to the king himself.” Dom turned to glare at Cédric. “A bit surprising.”

  Cédric’s face dropped. He was wounded. “Do you think that I didn’t do my utmost to persuade the king and his court to see you favorably?”

  Dominique turned away, his shoulders and back stiff. “Not one letter made it to the king or his councilors? Not one voice was raised in my defense?”

  Cédric’s face switched to anger. “You think that I would allow the bastards who raped my sister to win?”

  Dom shook his head. “Aurore has always been blameless in this. I am the one accused.”

  Cédric scowled more fiercely at Dom’s back. “You think that if you were brought down by the rumors that none of the rest of us would be affected? There is probably a secret file in some secretary’s office filled with letters that my father and I wrote. I wouldn’t put it past de Lucenay to have intercepted them. There is surely enough information there to have us all tortured, just because we deliberately linked our family name with yours.”

  Dom didn’t move a muscle, so after a silence, Cédric said a word he probably thought Aurore didn’t know, then turned and strode away through the wide hall. She watched him brush past courtiers who raised their eyebrows in surprise to see him angry.

  Aurore turned back to her husband, who had dropped his head and brought his clenched fists to his hips. He heaved in a huge breath and let it out slowly as if he had just come out of a hard swordfight or a hard run.

  Love coursed through her, and she slipped a hand around his waist and leaned her head against his chest, not caring that dozens of courtiers were surely watching avidly as she broke with the etiquette that told them to barely touch hands. Just as he had kissed her soundly the night before and held her up in front of the king, she would now lean against him and let him lean on her.

  “He did his best,” Dom muttered with a nod.

  “You know Cédric. He is honest and loyal to a fault.”

  Dom nodded again. “He is much like you.”

  Aurore giggled. “I am prettier.”

  Dom huffed a quiet laugh. “But he is bigger.”

  Aurore felt his hand on her back and relaxed more against him. “And without him in the council chamber today, we would have been arrested.”

  Dom stiffened, and the babble of nearby voices reminded Aurore to pull away from him and stand up straight.

  “I want them all dead, Aurore. I want their heads.” He stared at the wall, his jaw clenching and unclenching. “If I had not been injured, I would have retaken the château the next day. I would have killed the traitors and rescued you. And with the rumors of my supposed treason, I would have been the one arrested. I cannot like the diplomatic way, but I am lucky to have Cédric and Henri and your father. And you.”

  Aurore felt a glow in her heart.

  “I should not blame anyone other than whoever it is inside that council chamber for Cédric’s pleas not reaching the king. But I cannot help thinking that if I could have spoken directly to Son Altesse right from the beginning, or if Cédric and your father had been more insistent…”

  Aurore sighed.

  ****

  Dominique and Cédric were still barely speaking to each other and yet rode together two days later to visit friends, leaving Aurore in her father’s house with only Michel.

  Then Michel went out in spite of her begging, telling her that she was safe enough with the guards and servants. He was barely speaking to her and told her she should be happy she was with her husband. She missed him. After two months together, she felt betrayed that she didn’t spend all day with Michel, yet guilty that she had separated him from his beloved wife for so long and Mathilde so near her time to give birth. She cringed for Mathilde, who was her lady in waiting, best friend, and confidante from well before she had married Michel.

  Aurore was sitting in the front room embroidering a nightdress for herself. Every night Dom pretended he did not desire her, but his eyes widened every time he saw her in her nightdress. He kissed her—passionately, but not asking for anything else—and then fell asleep beside her.

  With a rumble and clatter, a carriage pulled up out front. The bastards have found me. My husband and brothers are out. Where is my knife? She fumbled with the pocket under her skirts and pulled the dagger from its sheath. She glided silently to the window, stepping around Ondine, her one-year-old niece. Hélène, the girl’s cousin who cared for her in the absence of her mother, had her curly blonde head bent over a book, squinting through a thick monocle, reading an essay out loud. Aurore hushed her. “Get Ondine and get ready escape.”

  Hélène gasped and dropped her book with a loud thump.

  Aurore peered through the curtains as three young men in blue descended from the carriage, glancing up and down the street suspiciously. Fear clutched at her throat. A fourth man eased himself from the carriage feet first and straightened up carefully. He reached back in for a black hat, which he settled on his blond hair before turning and looking up at the house. She exhaled the breath she had been holding and tears sprang to her eyes.

  “Jean-Louis! My brother! Oh, Ondine, look, your father has come!” She shoved the knife back i
nto its sheath and rushed to the hall, sending a maid to alert the majordomo.

  One of the guards Cédric had brought with him let the gentlemen in. Jean-Louis spotted Aurore and bowed to her, the other men following suit.

  Aurore raced down the hall and threw her arms around Jean-Louis. He gripped her tightly, smiled, and then scowled. “Really, Aurore, we are not children anymore.”

  She went up on her toes to kiss his cheek. “Ah, but I am happy to see you, Jean-Louis, my favorite brother. I could not wait another moment. Oh, let me look at you! You are quite bronzed from the southern sun. And no cane! Cédric said you were still using one. I am so pleased, so very happy.”

  Tears threatened again. Other than their youngest brother, Emmanuel, whom their mother was raising separately from the rest of them, she saw Jean-Louis the least. He had been a silent shadow to Cédric when they were children, following all the rules and working harder than anyone to master lessons and weapons. He had been a quiet wall between her and Henri, protecting them from one another when their rivalry spun out of control.

  “Thank you, Aurore. I am pleased to see you safe.” He stood up straight and smoothed his travel-worn buff leather coat. He introduced her to his men, fellow officers from the fortifications on the Spanish border. They had traveled for nearly two weeks and met him just outside Paris.

  She clasped the other officers’ hands, thanking them for coming so far to help. They demurred, claiming they had business in Paris that coincided, but also that they were completely at their captain’s service for as long as he needed them. Her eyes got teary again in gratitude as Jean-Louis nodded crisply at his friends.

  “And Jean-Louis, you will never guess. Your daughter is here, too. I am sorry, it went right out of my head when I saw you. I should have told you that first,” said Aurore.

  The subtle lightness in his demeanor disappeared. “I thought she was with my wife’s family.”

  “Oh, she is. Your wife’s cousin Hélène is here with her, of course. Amandine prefers to come see her here when the court is at the Château de Vincennes,” said Aurore. “And Hélène likes to…likes to spend time here. Her aunt and uncle, Ondine’s grandparents, of course, aren’t very kind to her. To Hélène. They are kind to Ondine. They do spoil her, though.”

  Jean-Louis grimaced at the lie that his wife cared to travel even one mile to see their daughter, but he went to the front sitting room. He bowed politely and then Aurore heard a series of loud thumps and a wail as Ondine encountered something forbidden. Aurore rushed after Jean-Louis and saw him pick the girl up from where she sprawled under a heap of books and hold her at arm’s length, frowning. The girl went limp in his hands, staring with wide eyes at this stranger.

  Ondine opened her mouth to howl, exposing six tiny teeth. Aurore swept her away and cuddled her. “It’s all right, petite. This is your papa, who has come to see you. Sit down, Jean-Louis, and I will sit next to you with her so she can get used to you. Talk to her, Jean-Louis. Say something nice.”

  Jean-Louis smiled slightly. “When have I had a chance? You haven’t stopped talking since I walked in.”

  Aurore looked away to hide the tears from that slap. “I was happy to see you.”

  Ondine buried her head against Aurore’s chest, and she hugged the girl tighter. “Now, Ondine, say bonjour to your papa.”

  Jean-Louis held out his hand, and the girl peeked out and put her hand on his. He looked surprised, but bent down to kiss it, making the girl snatch hers away. Hélène slipped out of the door past the other officers.

  “Nay-nay-nay-nay!” Ondine shrieked, reaching out for Hélène.

  “That is how she says Hélène,” said Aurore. “Isn’t it sweet?”

  Jean-Louis frowned again, and the girl pouted back and twisted on Aurore’s lap to try to follow her cousin. Aurore sang to her, and after a minute the baby sighed and relaxed against her shoulder.

  “Smile at her, Jean-Louis. Really, you shall frighten her,” said Aurore.

  Jean-Louis attempted a smile, and Ondine reached up and touched his lips, which made his smile grow softer and more natural. “Shall I kiss your hand again, Mademoiselle?” He did so, making her giggle.

  Soon he was sitting on the floor with his legs stretched in front of him in a way that looked quite uncomfortable, building with blocks with his daughter, who crawled around him, pausing occasionally to stare up into his face. Aurore watched, wistful for her own child who might never come. She looked up, and her heart leaped to see Dom in the doorway, handsome and stern, staring at Jean-Louis and Ondine.

  One of the officers appeared beside him and grinned. “Well, Capitaine de Cantière. Have you swayed the hearts of the locals, then?”

  Jean-Louis blushed slightly and sat up straighter, but, to his credit, he didn’t shoo Ondine away. “It’s a constant campaign, Capitaine, as you well know.” He nodded to Dominique. “I would get up, Monsieur le Comte, but as you see I am incapacitated.”

  Dominique nodded at him and then looked at Aurore, his expression hard and unreadable. Jean-Louis introduced him to the other men from his place on the floor, Ondine staring in fascination with a string of drool on her chin.

  “Come sit with me, chéri,” Aurore said. “And do come in, Lieutenant. I am afraid I am not doing the honors of my father’s house properly. The servants have shown you to your rooms, I hope?”

  “Oui, Madame,” the officer said, “and very nice ones, too, after our billets in Perpignan and the inns on the way.”

  She beamed. “I am glad. We shall have refreshments in a few minutes. We dine this evening rather informally. Jean-Louis did not give us the exact day of his arrival, and it is only luck that we were here and not yet gone to my father’s house in La Brosse.”

  “I did not expect you to be here,” said Jean-Louis, reaching around his daughter to pick up a doll. “I have a friend at court who might be able to help with your troubles.”

  He made the doll dance, his stiff back and stiffer expression not showing an ounce of playfulness. Ondine grabbed at it, laughing delightedly as he danced it out of her reach.

  The silence in the room made Jean-Louis look up to find everyone watching expectantly. He colored again; his fair skin had always shown his blushes more than that of Aurore and their other siblings.

  “We were stationed in Perpignan with a Lieutenant Saint-Ange.”

  Aurore gasped, her breath forced out of her at the dreaded name. That such an evil person should be called Holy Angel had twisted her heart as much as anything that had happened.

  “Lieutenant Saint-Ange told me once that he was the last legitimate issue of his father and that he had a bastard brother. His older brother died just a few months ago, my lieutenant became the heir, and his father bought him out of the army. The father never recognized the youngest son, drove their mother away, and repudiated the boy so he could not inherit. Cédric mentioned recently that the Saint-Ange family now denies that the bastard is in any way linked to them.”

  The other military men nodded—Aurore had the feeling that Jean-Louis had been discussing this with them during their journey. Dominique pursed his lips. She squeezed his hand.

  Jean-Louis glanced at their hands. “I was hoping Saint-Ange—my friend the former lieutenant—would know more about his half-brother’s father. Why is it that the bastards Saint-Ange and Poudrain cannot seem to be linked to anyone at all in the court?”

  Dom shifted uneasily next to Aurore, and she looked up into his handsome face. His eyes glistened slightly, and he cleared his throat. “Thank you, my brother.”

  Jean-Louis’ glance darted to Aurore before returning to Dominique’s face. “I would do nearly anything for my sister.”

  Aurore felt her heart melt and a smile spread on her face. “Thank you, Jean-Louis.”

  Dom, though, stood suddenly and strode from the room.

  Aurore jumped to her feet, all the gentlemen rising as she raced through the door, only to see Dom taking the stairs two at a time.
>
  “Dominique?” she squeaked and trotted up after him.

  He went into the room where he usually slept, not her room, and banged the door shut without looking back.

  She tapped at the door. “Dom?”

  She pressed her ear against the door. Suddenly, he flung the door open, making her jump back. He grabbed her arm, sending a wave of panic through her, and pulled her into the room, slamming the door closed again. She stumbled back a step when he released her.

  He strode to the sideboard, where he poured himself a glass of blood-red wine.

  She breathed deeply to drive away the moment of panic and bit her tongue to keep from chattering, feeling the sting of all the times he and her brothers had told her to be quiet.

  “Why will they not do it for my sake?” Dominique banged the glass back on its tray with a clunk.

  Aurore shook her head in puzzlement.

  “Cédric has been my greatest friend for more than half our lives, Jean-Louis for nearly as long. Even Henri and Michel—I have never spent much time with them due to the difference in our ages, but I hope that I have never been cruel.”

  “I don’t know,” Aurore whispered, though she felt she did.

  “Have you told them how I betrayed you?”

  Aurore shook her head. “I have never complained about you to them. Mathilde is the only one I…” She swallowed hard, sickened again by her husband’s public infidelity. Would she ever get past it? “She promised not to tell Michel. They heard the rumors elsewhere.”

  Dom was silent for a long time. Aurore took slow breaths, willing her heart to stop beating so loudly in her ears. She finally looked up to find him staring blankly out the window. A natural leader, abandoned by his followers.

  Aurore took a deep breath. “Jean-Louis’ wife doesn’t care for him or Ondine. Henri’s valet is leaving him; you know we don’t talk about Henri and Paul-Bénédicte, but they have been like a married couple for years. Maman and Papa have not been faithful and have hurt each other terribly. Only Cédric is happy in his marriage. And Michel. It’s still odd to lump him in with all my other brothers, isn’t it? Even though he is, and I spent two months with him. He is so angry now at being away from Mathilde.”