A Bordeaux Dynasty: A Novel (10 page)

“Yes, the Jeep broke down, and we had to take refuge at Fernande’s. It was great fun, but your father called Jules back and I lost my teacher.”

Robert smiled.

“Now I regret having stayed away from this place for so long,” he said.

“You didn’t have to! You draped yourself in your dignity and made us feel guilty all those years!”

“You weren’t exactly innocent, as I recall.”

Pauline leaned toward him, hesitated for a moment, then put a hand on his shoulder.

“Let’s try to have a nice vacation, all of us together. Okay?”

She was so close to him he could smell her perfume. He shut his eyes, trying to get ahold of himself. Pauline removed her hand and he got up. He tried to smile at her, with no conviction. In a sudden and swift movement, she jumped to her feet and hugged him.

“I’m so sorry, Bob. I really do like you a lot, you know. A lot. …”

Her spontaneity was such that he didn’t dare wrap his arms around her. This was worse than anything he’d imagined before coming here. When Pauline took a step back, he felt something tear inside him.

“I can’t like you a lot,” he muttered, out of breath. “But I’ll pretend I do. …”

He walked away from her in long strides, his heart pounding, as though he was fleeing from danger. He went around the castle and reached the barn that served as a garage. He thought he’d hop in his Porsche and take a drive, anywhere, just to calm down.

As he was exiting the garage, he saw Laurène in the driveway, waving at him. When he reached her, he stopped the car and lowered the window.

“Going to Bordeaux?” she asked with a coy smile.

Robert was in a foul mood, but he made an effort to be gracious.

“You have errands to run? Get in. …”

Putting the car in gear, he suddenly remembered that his father had given him the task of finding a birthday present for Jules and he had agreed to take care of it. Laurène had slipped into the passenger’s seat, and she was silently looking at the road ahead of them. He was grateful she wasn’t chatting away. He concentrated on driving and was almost surprised to arrive in Bordeaux so quickly. He asked Laurène how to get to the Lafont Saddlery, and then he dropped her off at the Cours de l’Intendance, the city’s main shopping area. He promised to pick her up on Place Gambetta two hours later.

He had to look around to find the store recommended by his father and finally spotted it in an alley near the Grand Théâtre. It was a dark boutique, long and narrow, that smelled of leather. The old man that owned the place remembered Jules Laverzac very well, and he pulled out a file from a drawer. Robert explained that he wanted to surprise his brother by buying him new boots and that he wanted them similar to the ones he’d had before.

“If you have a moment,” the saddler said, “you can sit over there and I’ll see what I can do. …”

He disappeared behind some drapes, and Robert headed for an odd armchair that looked like a dentist’s chair, perched on some kind of platform. He started to chuckle. He was used to buying his shoes in Paris’s most expensive stores, and he found this place as delightful as it was incongruous.

That Aurélien came up with the idea to give Jules boots as a present had surprised Robert quite a bit. Generally, his old man didn’t care much about his sons’ tastes and just gave them whatever gifts came to mind. So, for once, he’d made an exception and actually took the time to think about what Jules might want. And even though turning thirty was a significant event, Aurélien’s consideration showed his preference for his adopted son.

Or maybe he was just fed up seeing Jules walking around with the same beat-up boots for years,
Robert thought.

Robert was sitting in the armchair when the old man came back into the shop with a box under his arm.

“If you two have the same size, put them on. We’ll see how they fit. …”

Robert slipped a foot inside one of the tawny boots and was impressed by the leather’s suppleness.

“It’d be much better if he were here himself,” the old man grumbled. “This sort of surprise …”

Robert just nodded, forgetting about Pauline for the time being. In the shop’s semidarkness, he made out bridles and whips hanging all over the walls, as well as dog collars and leashes, belts and gun cases. Robert could picture Jules feeling right at home in this world of hunters and horse riders.

Still feeling lighthearted, he asked, “And what about a bridle? Can you buy that without a horse?”

The saddler gave him a dirty look and said, “If you know what size and what kind of steel you want, no problem.”

Robert, who hadn’t meant to aggravate the old fellow, complimented him on the quality of the boots, then added that he was going to get the information about the bridle and come back. He put his shoes back on and paid for the boots.

If Alex and Louis-Marie haven’t thought of anything else
,
we could buy Jules some stuff for his horse. I could take Pauline with me tomorrow morning. She’d get a kick out of this shop.

He knew he was looking for an excuse to be alone with her. He glanced at his watch and decided to head for his old high school. He’d always been a very good student, without having to work hard at all.

He stopped in front of the school’s gates and watched a bunch of kids playing basketball. He remained there a long time, absorbed in his contemplation, without moving, Jules’s boots under his arm. He could still see his father waiting for him, behind those same gates. Robert’s academic achievements were always marred by a chronic lack of discipline that Aurélien wouldn’t tolerate.

Robert pondered the past few years of his life.

Wasted in pursuit of an ambitious career. … Thinking about Pauline for absolutely nothing. … I should get married. I’m sick of running around in circles.

A bell rang and the students rushed back to school, the schoolyard emptying in just a few moments. Robert slowly walked away from the gates, not certain where he’d parked his car.

Pauline is the only woman I would’ve placed above everyone and everything. …

Completely disheartened, he almost forgot about Laurène. He remembered her just in time and picked her up, her arms filled with shopping bags. Since he was calmer, though just as sad as he’d been two hours earlier, he invited her for a drink in a bar nearby.

Aurélien had a fiery meeting with Alexandre. In front of Jules and Lucas, who were in the middle of taking inventory of the cellar’s barrels, Aurélien tore into his son for his incompetence. Alex weathered the storm, unflappable, and then went back to his tasks. As they counted the barrels, he and Jules shared a look of complicity. Meanwhile, he’d detected, as always, Lucas’s muted disapproval.

It was cool, almost cold, under the cellar’s vaults. Jules went from one room to the other, quickly but dutifully. Aurélien let him finish a row and then gestured for him to come over.

“I need to talk to you, son. …”

He led him to the stairs, and both stepped outside under the setting sun.

“Let Alex count the barrels,” Aurélien said. “It’s one of the few things he can do right.”

They raised their heads to the sky, by force of habit.

“Not great,” said Aurélien.

He then looked at Jules, wondering where to begin.

“You didn’t ask me why I had Varin over.”

“It’s about your business, I suppose,” Jules said.

Aurélien, annoyed, shrugged.

“The family’s business is your business! And more so than you imagine. …”

Aurélien glanced at the driveway, where Robert’s car had just pulled in. He grabbed Jules by the arm, and they took a few steps in the opposite direction.

“Varin is going to send me some documents later on this week. You’re going to have to sign them.”

Jules turned his head to watch Robert and Laurène getting out of the Porsche in front of the house.

“Are you listening to me?” Aurélien asked.

Jules paid attention to his father again.

“Yes.”

“No, you’re not. You’re staring at that girl, and you’re not thinking about anything else.”

There was enough belligerence in Aurélien’s tone to make Jules take a step back. Aurélien regretted having lost his composure.

“What are you trying to tell me?” Jules finally asked coolly.

Aurélien looked his son over from head to toe.

“I’ve officially made you manager of the estate. Are you all right with that?”

Jules’s expression went blank.

Aurélien continued, “For months I’ve tried to figure out a way to make you Fonteyne’s sole heir, and I think I’ve found it.”

The blood draining from his face, Jules stepped away from his father once more. With furrowed brows, he mumbled, “You … You did what?”

He took on a look of horror, and his father raised his eyes to the sky. Jules walked up to Aurélien and put a hand on his shoulder.

“You want them all to hate me?”

“You’d prefer that they force you to sell the place some day?”

Jules turned to the vines, his hand absentmindedly searching for his pack of cigarettes.

“Sell Fonteyne?” he muttered.

“Inevitably!”

Jules had forgotten about Laurène and Robert, about anything that didn’t have something to do with the land that surrounded him. He examined his father’s face with a kind of desperation.

“So we’re talking about your death. …”

Jules’s low voice was filled with sadness. Aurélien tried to contain his own emotions.

“It’s going to happen eventually. And I want you to be able to continue the work. I’m not so sure that it’s really a blessing for you. You’re going to have your brothers on your back, but I tried to protect you as much as possible. I didn’t screw them over. You’re going to pay them hefty annuities. But no one is going to be able to force you to sell a single vine. You’re going to be in charge.”

Jules was torn by violent feelings. Rarely had Aurélien seen him so stunned, so ill at ease. He tried to reassure him by joking.

“Hey, you look like I’ve given you the worst news in the world. You wouldn’t have a more pitiful look on your face if I’d disowned you.”

Aurélien laughed, but Jules’s eyes remained glued to the ground.

“Jules … Do you want Fonteyne or not?”

Jules raised his dark gaze to his father.

“Yes,” he said, with absolute candor.

“Well, you’ve got it! All you need to do is sign the documents Varin is going to send us.”

For a long moment they looked at each other in silence. Then Jules asked him the question that weighed most heavily on him.

“Why?” he asked in a low voice.

Both men knew full well what this simple word meant, what all it entailed. Jules, at age thirty, had never asked about his origins, about the circumstances of his adoption.

“Why?” Aurélien said. “That’s simple. … Because you love Fonteyne and because you’re the only one that can manage it.”

He’d ducked the question, deliberately, avoiding speaking about the feelings he had for his adopted son. Instead, he referred to Fonteyne, preferring to highlight Jules’s competence and his attachment to the land. The rest was too personal, and he didn’t care to open up to any one, not even Jules. Especially not Jules!

They slowly headed back to the house. The sky was completely clear in the last superb moments of the afternoon. Jules decided to take advantage of the nice weather and ride his horse for an hour before dinner. He hurried over to the stable, lost in his thoughts. There he found Robert waiting for him, sitting on a bale of hay.

“What are you doing here? Want to go for a ride?”

“No, thanks! I just came over to see your horse. Out of curiosity.”

Jules entered an empty stall, where he stored his gear. He took out a saddle, a blanket, a bridle, and a brush. He went past his brother and stepped inside his horse’s stall.

“You’re the one who fixed up the stable?” Robert asked.

Jules nodded but said nothing, vigorously brushing the horse’s chestnut coat.

“That’s a beautiful animal,” Robert said.

Jules glanced at him and asked, “Did you have a nice ride with Laurène?”

Surprised and amused, Robert said, “I’m not the one who invited her. Relax, I’m not cutting into your territory, if that’s what you’re afraid of.”

“What about Louis-Marie’s territory?”

Jules’s words had harshly sprung out of his mouth.

Robert glared at his brother and said, “What’s with the attitude? That’s not like you.”

They stared at each other for an instant, and then Jules relented.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “We all have our problems. As for Laurène, there’s nothing going on there.”

“Really?”

“Really. She told me to get lost, so she’s fair game!”

Jules was saddling his horse, his back to Robert. He slipped on the bridle and adjusted the stirrups before facing his brother again.

“Would you like a beer?” he asked.

Jules had asked nicely and Robert accepted. Jules exited the stall and fetched two bottles.

“Fair warning,” he said, “it’s lukewarm.”

They sat on the concrete floor and drank together.

“So you got a horse. …” Robert said.

“It’s a hobby,” Jules said with a smile. “His name is Bingo. He’s an Anglo-Arab, and I got him for a ridiculously low price. … The riding lessons Aurélien paid for when we were kids weren’t for nothing after all!”

Jules, now relaxed, chuckled. Robert suddenly felt very comfortable beside his brother, in this small, isolated stable.

“Jules … How can you stand being around dad all the time? Wouldn’t you prefer ten acres of your own instead of two hundred and fifty of his?”

“I wouldn’t take a thousand elsewhere. It wouldn’t be Fonteyne! Besides, the old man isn’t that hard to deal with.”

Robert was observing Jules and, at the sight of his brother so at peace and so solid, he didn’t hesitate to ask, “Did he ever tell you about your birth?”

“That’s the last thing I’d ever ask him. Thirty years ago he adopted me. That’s where the story ends for me and I’m not curious about the rest.”

Even though he wasn’t being completely honest, he thought it was the wisest answer to give Robert.