A Bordeaux Dynasty: A Novel (30 page)

“And, of course,” Louis-Marie said, “she’s now his lover. …”

There was a trace of reproach in his voice, and Jules defended Aurélien right away.

“So what? There have always been women in Aurélien’s life. You know that. Not in the house, that’s true, and Alex is right to worry. But don’t criticize me for having introduced her to him. …”

“I’m not criticizing you about anything.”

Laurène was sleeping in the back of the car, and Louis-Marie had let Jules drive. They were speaking in low voices, happy to be heading together for Fonteyne, in spite of the worry they felt.

“Maybe Dad figured that after you marry Laurène, you wouldn’t be his protégé anymore, and you won’t be at his disposal all the time, and you won’t be at his beck and call twenty-four seven. …”

They laughed, that same quick and light laugh they both shared.

“No matter his reasons,” Jules said, “if he decided to do what he did, he’s going to stick to it. But he’s never going to give control of Fonteyne to that woman, you know that as well as I do. He’s not senile, far from it. Only Alex believes that junk.”

“I don’t know, Jules. … Just for the sake of being defiant, he might let the game go too far and get played himself. After all, she’s very pretty and very young, and he must feel quite … flattered.”

Jules, not altogether convinced by Louis-Marie’s arguments, shook his head. He knew Aurélien better than anyone, of that he was certain.

After the town of Saintes, he headed for Royan to take the Pointe de Grave ferry. He wanted to drive the length of the Médoc region, all the way down to Fonteyne. He took in the landscape avidly. Louis-Marie threw glances at him and smiled, though he felt a bit ill at ease. Jules had Fonteyne and, deep down, he didn’t care what people around him did. Nothing really troubled him as long as he could count on Fonteyne—the land, the vineyards. As for Louis-Marie, all he had was Pauline. Pauline, who must be on her way to Fonteyne with Robert and Esther. What role was she playing, right now, with her bewitched brother-in-law? That of perfect mother? Woman-child? Faithful wife?

Louis-Marie felt Jules’s hand on his arm.

“What’s bugging you? Is something wrong?”

Jules’s soft voice soothed Louis-Marie.

“No,” he said. “I just hope that Bob is driving carefully.”

Jules turned his head back for a second to look at Laurène, still stretched across the backseat, sleeping. He loved her and all was well. He thought of his father and Frédérique, trying to remember her as well as possible, and the hotel room in Bordeaux where they’d spent a night together. Not even one night, just a few hours. Jules remembered that Frédérique was smiling during their lovemaking. Was she smiling when she was with Aurélien as well? To imagine Aurélien in bed was difficult.

“All this snow is amazing,” Louis-Marie said, gesturing at the white fields.

Rows and rows of vines were buried under the sheet of snow. Jules gave his brother a radiant smile. No matter if the vines were hidden, he was happy to find them once again.

Aurélien greeted his sons without showing surprise or annoyance. He blankly stated that he liked the idea of a family Christmas, and then he took Jules to his office. There, he asked for a precise and detailed report of Jules’s stay in England. He made no comment about the trip’s sudden interruption and the cancellation of the last few meetings. But his abrupt way of asking questions and interrupting the answers irritated Jules. Being treated like an employee had always infuriated him. Aurélien was, it went without saying, well aware of that.

“Tell me you took the time to go to Berry Brothers & Rudd. …” he said.

Jules talked about the shop, very Old England, the mecca of wine traders and connoisseurs, located at 3 James Street since 1698. He described the shop in detail, before telling his father about the new British trends and preferences. They continued talking for a long while, Aurélien keeping that same stern expression in spite of Jules’s attempts at humor.

“What about your wedding?” Aurélien finally asked. “What have you decided?”

“We were thinking June. If that’s okay with you. …”

He’d just changed their plans, trying to buy time without even knowing why.

“Whatever date is convenient for you is okay with me,” Aurélien said.

Aurélien’s tone was pleasant. His son’s return made him happy beyond anything else. He was back and life would return to normal. Fonteyne without Jules wasn’t really Fonteyne anymore.

“Is it okay if we live together till then?”

The question surprised Aurélien, and it also reassured him. Jules, though in love, knew very well the narrow-minded world they belonged to.

“If Antoine agrees, his daughter can live under my roof. The world has changed. …”

He was smiling, amused at being able to sound more liberal than his son.

“You can pretend like you each have your own room, for the sake of Clothilde and the staff … but ask for Antoine’s okay first.”

They looked at each other, communicating a thousand things without opening their mouths.

“I need to talk to you about … But why don’t you sit down, cowboy? You’re making me tired staying on your feet like that.”

Aurélien only used that nickname when he was in good spirits, and so Jules obliged him by sitting in an armchair.

“There will be decisions to be made about your marriage,” Aurélien said. “Things I’d like to talk to you about now, son.”

Jules leaned forward, attentive but not worried.

“You can fix your floor any way you want. There’s enough room. Laurène can have whatever she wants, as long as you guys don’t touch Robert and Louis-Marie’s rooms. The rest, I don’t care. Knock down some walls if you’d like, if you feel like having some sort of … apartment?”

He’d put too much sarcasm into his words to sound truly indifferent.

“Any renovations you guys want to make are on me, it goes without saying. It’s my house, no matter what. … But, you know, I’d like things to remain the same in here. Fernande takes care of the house with the help of Clothilde. Laurène can continue handling the bills and expenses, if she feels like it, just like she did when she worked for me. She knows how to do it. As long as you don’t have any kids. …”

Without enthusiasm, Jules brought himself to ask the question that Aurélien had been waiting for.

“What about Frédérique? You’re going to let her go?”

Aurélien looked his son squarely in the face.

“No. She knows what I have in mind.”

A painful moment of silence followed.

“You care a lot for her?” Jules finally asked, in spite of himself.

“Of course! Alex must’ve told you. Frédérique and I are together.”

Jules’s breath was taken away by the simplicity and bluntness of that last sentence.

“And so,” Aurélien continued, “she does whatever she wants in this house. It’s her home.”

“Really?” Jules stared at his father, and then added, “You’re not going to marry her, are you?”

The question startled Aurélien. He hadn’t expected such a direct hit.

“What business is it of yours, Jules?” he asked.

Both hesitated to say anything else, knowing they were heading for a fight. After a moment, Aurélien made the effort to say, “It bothers you that much? I didn’t mess things up for you, and you have Laurène. … I never do anything to hurt you, you know that. …”

Jules got up, shoved his hands in his pockets, and fumbled for the right words to say.

“You do whatever you want, but I wouldn’t want you …”

He stopped talking and Aurélien straightened in his chair.

“To make a fool of myself? You’re afraid to say it?”

“That’s not what I meant to say.”

“Good!”

Aurélien was still in his seat, glaring at Jules.

“That’ll be all for the moment,” he said, sharply.

Jules managed to leave the room without slamming the door shut. The first person he saw in the hallway was Frédérique. She was coming from outside, her cheeks rosy, and she seemed delighted to see Jules. With a big smile on her face, she walked briskly toward him but stopped in her tracks when she realized that she wouldn’t be greeted warmly.

“How are you?” she asked, with the softest of voices.

She was looking at him as if dazzled. She was as attracted to him as she had been three months earlier, and even though she was daunted by him, she’d been prepared to confront him.

“And your trip?” she asked.

“Educational. I just told Aurélien about it and I think he’s satisfied.”

Jules was staring at her, a grin on his face.

“I asked Fernande to prepare something nice for us, and we’re going to eat soon. …”

Jules offered a light laugh, which she considered horribly insulting.

“You’re not going to start using that stepmother tone with me, are you?”

Then out of the blue, he grabbed her by the waist and pulled her against himself. He whispered in her ear, “He’s good in the sack, I hope.”

She didn’t have time to say anything. Jules let go of her just as Robert and Pauline were walking into the house, Esther on their heels.

“What a ride!” Pauline said as she went over to Jules. “Snow, black ice, and Siberia-cold. What about you? Was the ride from London okay? Where’s my husband?”

Adorable, cheerful, Pauline grabbed Jules’s arm and dragged him to the main living room without having even glanced at Frédérique.

“You’re still just as handsome and attractive, dear brother-in-law,” she said.

She was laughing, unbuttoning her fur coat with one hand.

“This is going to be a fantastic Christmas,” she said. “You’ll see. I’m going to organize everything. Come Esther, come near the fireplace. Your uncle is going to light a nice fire. It’s freezing in this castle, as always in the winter. …”

In the hallway, Robert had stopped to take off his coat and he greeted Frédérique.

“Hello Robert,” she answered with a disarming smile.

He was surprised that she remembered his name but didn’t say anything about it. The thought of his father sleeping with such a young and beautiful woman made him smile.

She walked ahead of him to the living room, where Aurélien was already chatting with Pauline, and she sat down, a bit to the side. Dominique and Alexandre’s animosity toward her since the harvest had weighed on her, and the idea of spending Christmas with the entire family scared her. She could easily imagine the attitude Aurélien’s sons were going to have toward her. She’d vaguely hoped that Jules would be more indulgent, and she felt sad.

The way the conversation went, led by a merry Pauline, gave no one the chance to start an argument. Jules and Aurélien were keeping an eye on each other, ready to respond to any sign of aggression.

“And,” Pauline said suddenly, “I’ll ask you all to let Dominique and me organize the Christmas Eve festivities. It’s going to be a surprise! This is the first time we’re all together for Christmas, it’s quite an event!”

Charming, playful, she knew how to entertain Aurélien and speak to his love for women. He smiled, noticed Frédérique’s tight smile and Laurène’s inscrutable face, and said with calm, “It’s a deal, sweetheart. You have carte blanche. …”

Louis-Marie and Jules looked at each other. Peace, for now. …

Jules woke up and looked at the ceiling for a moment before recognizing it. He’d slept in Laurène’s room, which had been, many years ago, Alexandre’s. His eyes wandered toward the trompe l’oeil, the plaster cherubs, the decorative woodwork, and finally, the young woman sleeping curled up next to him. He grazed her shoulder with his fingertip. He was just as much in love with her as on the night he’d kicked her door open.

He quietly slipped out of bed and gathered his things. He walked naked to the bathroom down the hallway, knowing he wasn’t going to run into anyone at this hour.

In the shower—cold—he thought back on the conversation he’d had with Aurélien the previous day. “You can fix your floor any way you want,” his father had said. Fix what? What for? Jules’s room was gigantic, and Laurène could set it up anyway she wanted. And the room she was now occupying would be perfect for the babies they would have. Later. …

Jules sighed. Later was too far away for him. Not for one second could he imagine Laurène wanting to live anywhere but at Fonteyne. He wasn’t selfish, but he couldn’t even begin to conceive that his life would one day take him away from this paradise. Besides, he would eventually own Fonteyne, as per Aurélien’s will—the vines, the land, the castle, and the debts. But that seemed to him too far in the future to even think about. The future he cared about was the next harvest. To support Aurélien in his difficult moments was a ridiculously low price to pay. And, deep down, Jules liked his father’s tyrannical ways. He felt he was too young to live without them. Aurélien was his safeguard.

He went to his bedroom, where he’d dropped his luggage the day before. He went through one of his suitcases looking for the cashmere scarf he’d purchased for Fernande and realized that he’d brought nothing back for his father—no present, no souvenir, nothing. True, his trip had been shortened, but he still felt guilty. All the cases of wine he’d shipped to Fonteyne came with a fond note to Aurélien. However, those deliveries were all about business. Jules sighed, knowing that even with more time, he wouldn’t have dared bring his father anything back. Aurélien wasn’t some little kid you could amuse with some trinket from another country.

Jules had just put on his jeans and boots when Fernande softly knocked on his door. She kissed him lovingly on both cheeks, as she always did when they were alone.

“I figured you’d be up already. I’m going to put away your things. …”

He set the suitcases on the bed so she wouldn’t have to pick them up herself, and he gave her the scarf. But he didn’t listen to the old woman’s emotional thanks, as he was looking out the window at Fonteyne.

“Are you happy to be back, kiddo?” Fernande asked.

Still taking in the landscape, he took a few seconds to reply.

“It’s so beautiful,” he said simply. “I’m going to marry Laurène soon, you know.”

He turned to Fernande and said, “She’s not going to take your place here.”