Angels and Hunters (Stoker Sisters 2) (22 page)

BOOK: Angels and Hunters (Stoker Sisters 2)
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“What do you say to a small wager?” Philippe asked.

An intrigued brow rose as Martin waited for him to go on.

“The first to win the heart of the new mademoiselle in town.”

Martin glanced up just in time to catch his future conquest walk away. This bet would be too easy to win. “You're on.”

 

 

Chap
t
er
1

 

 

V
eronique hummed a sprite tune as she settled into her new room.  The excitement of Paris was electric and filled the air, even from this distance. Though kilometers away, she could just smell
le Louvre
, imagine
la Tour Eiffel
and taste the fresh baguettes and robust wines.

Blended with all that was the scent of freedom.  This was the first time she’d ever been away from her father’s home.  It was frightening, exciting, thrilling and enthralling all at the same time. What would Paris hold for her? What adventures would she now have the freedom to embark upon?

The streets of Paris were hers to discover and she longed to stroll them at her leisure. Of course, Madame Fourquin would always be at her side.

Her valise lay open on the bed, filled with the finest garments she had. She ignored how outdated some of the items were and pulled them out to hang in her simply but spacious armoire. Finances had been tight of late and her wardrobe had suffered. Perhaps now in the heart of the world’s fashion capital she would find a few items to refine her look.

A gentle knock at the door was followed by Madame Fourquin’s entrance. “And how are we settling in?”

“Everything is perfect. The room is more than large enough and I’ve not even filled half of this armoire.”

With an attempt at discretion, Madame Fourquin glanced down at the dress still laid out on the bed.

“Yes, I know.” Veronique shifted uneasily.  “It is fearfully outdated.”

“I’ve a few free hours and a good friend I’d like to visit. Marie Rousell just happens to be one of the finest dressmakers this side of
le Louvre
.”

Veronique was instantly excited by the prospect. Only hours into her new residence and Madame Fourquin was already proving to be all that her father had hoped for and more. In dire need of a woman’s presence since the passing of her mother years before, Veronique longed to forge a strong bond with this new woman in her life, and what better way than by planning a new wardrobe?

Their arrival at the dress shop was loud and boisterous as the older women exchanged a few pleasantries. Quickly brought up to date with each other’s lives, they turned to Veronique.

“I’ve told Mademoiselle Dumouchel how talented you were, Marie, and here we are.”

Indeed, she was talented. Veronique placed an order for three simple yet elegant day dresses and two ball gowns. Fascinated by the brilliance of the luxurious fabrics, she couldn’t resist the splurge. She loved the leg of mutton sleeves, sloping shoulders and conical skirt.

“You’ll be more than prepared to be presented now, Mademoiselle.” Madame Fourquin seemed proud of the purchases made.

Stepping out of the enchanting boutique, Veronique smiled as a young and dapper man approached them. His hair was fair, with neat curls that framed his face. He looked familiar, but his name escaped her.

“Madame Fourquin,” he greeted. His hand was quickly extended to her. “What a pleasure to run into you on such a fabulous spring afternoon.”

“Monsieur Aragon. How handsome and elegant you look.”

Veronique instantly remembered the young man she’d seen at her window. How incredibly handsome he was at this proximity. His features were elegant yet masculine.

His eyes shifted to Veronique with a touch of recognition that left her feeling uneasy.

“Oh, my heavens. You do always leave me forgetting my manners.” Madame Fourquin turned to Veronique. “This beautiful young lady is my new charge. We’ve just spent the last few hours enhancing her wardrobe.”

He bowed deeply and with reverence, making Veronique chuckle. Never had a man of his standing displayed such manners towards her. When he took her hand and tenderly laid his soft lips over her skin, she was stunned by the effect he had on her.

“It is my greatest pleasure to meet you, sweet Mademoiselle.” His smile was sincere, yet filled with mischief.

“Pleased to meet you, Mons…”

“Ah, ah, ah.” He shook his head and waved a scolding finger at her. “Please, call me Philippe.”

“Ah, yes, of course.” She smiled demurely and calmly while inside her nerves were shattering. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Philippe.”

The playful twinkle remained in his eyes as his gaze scanned her face. If he didn’t stop soon, she would surely burst into a shamefully adolescent blush that she would never live down.

“Have you ladies had time to dine during this shopping spree?”

“I’m afraid not,” Madame Fourquin replied. The tilt of her head made it evident she’d welcome his invitation.

“Then may I propose we dine together at
André’s Bistro
around the corner? I hear they’ve recently acquired a new Bordeaux and I’ve been dying to try it.”

“That sounds absolutely divine.” Madame Fourquin quickly hooked one hand around Veronique’s arm and slid the other into Philippe’s offered arm. Whether it was her chaperoning instincts that bade her to keep them apart, or simply her desire to monopolize Philippe’s attention, Veronique couldn’t be sure.

The corner bistro waved them in with the tantalizing aroma of fresh bread, warm soups and strong cheeses. Seated at a small table, Veronique was just as intrigued by the artful hangings on the wall as she was with Philippe’s intent gaze on her.

“This is…” Veronique didn’t know what description to give the restaurant. Quaint wasn’t quite the word and neither was elegant. Several risqué posters hung on the walls leaving only the word tawdry on her lips.

“You don’t appreciate this art form?” Philippe asked.

Veronique bit her lip. “I suppose it’s all just too new to me. Excuse my naiveté, but I would have thought such displays scandalous.”

“Artists have a variety of ways of depicting life. Some seek out the purity and innocence of their subjects while others dig deeper to find the more sordid and raw aspects of the human race.”

“While I can appreciate a lovely painting, I know very little about art,” Veronique admitted.

“Something we’ll see too soon enough,” Madame Fourquin interjected.

“My father has an extensive collection of works he proudly displays around the estate.  Granted his pursuit of such art works is to impress the galleries, not appreciate the works on their merit.”

“What can I bring you?” A young lady arrived at the table prepared to take the order.

Her attire reflected the posters and Veronique tried not to be shocked. But the emotion she really tried to keep in check was the biting sense of envy and jealousy she felt. Envy for the young woman who was obviously at ease with her provocative dress and a hint of jealousy for Philippe’s sidelong glance into the woman’s deep cleavage.

Perhaps the ball gown she’d just ordered was too prim. Biting her lip and glancing once again at the young woman’s dress, she promised herself she’d return to the dressmaker to make the proper adjustments.

“Does that sound good to you, Veronique?”

Drawn out of her reverie, Veronique looked at Philippe with no idea of what he spoke.

“Do you approve of what I ordered?”

“Of course.” She smiled and wondered what he had indeed ordered.

A perfectly crisp and hot baguette arrived moments later with a large wedge of soft and creamy cheese. The Bordeaux was perfect, though Veronique had little in the way of experience with fine wines.

The effect of the scant bit of wine she’d tasted remained with her as they exited the bistro and strolled through the streets of Paris. While Philippe regaled them with stories and tales of his youth, Veronique tried not to giggle like a schoolgirl.

“As shocking as it may seem, I was once contracted to model for the great Enzo Milano.”

“Were you truly?” Her eyes wide with innocence, Veronique was impressed and shocked.

“He’d been commissioned to paint a series of female nudes and he wanted to add a male in the mix.”

Now undeniably shocked, Veronique gasped and heard it echoed from Madame Fourquin.

Philippe winked at Veronique and continued to convincingly tell the tale to Madame Fourquin.

“I was young and wild and wanted nothing more than to contradict my parents. The more they tried to hold me back, the more I wanted to go out and sully my reputation as well as theirs.”

Veronique smiled and wondered just how much of his tale was true. Looking at him today, it was difficult to believe he could ever conceive doing such a thing. He looked every inch the fine young gentleman and though the touch of mischief was always in his eyes, the true refinement of his upbringing superseded it all.

“When the paintings were revealed, my father nearly disowned me. My mother fainted and lay in bed for over a week.”

“I always knew you had a wild streak beneath that aristocratic veneer,” Madame Fourquin said. Her eyes danced with amusement and seemed to silently congratulate his youthful escapade.

“Believe it or not, it sold for almost twice as much as any of the female nudes. I was asked to pose again, but had to refuse. There was only so much my poor parents could take.”

Veronique’s gaze remained on his face throughout the telling of the tale. He was enigmatic and charming beyond anything she’d ever known. Though initially shocking, she was mesmerized by his ability to be so refined, yet so untamed. While the docile and innocent young lady in her hoped the story was a complete fabrication, the underlying nymph that sought thrills and excitement fervently hoped it was true.

 

DESIRE

 

 

 

A Dystopian world where everyone’s future is planned out for them at age 18…whether it is what a person desires or not. Kama is about to turn 18 and she thinks her Life’s Plan will turn out like her boyfriend’s and friend’s – as they desired. But when she glimpse a young man who can communicate with her with his thoughts and knows her name…a young man with burning blue eyes and raven hair, who is dressed like no other in her world, she is left to question her Life’s Plan and her destiny.

 

A stranger who knew her name.

 

An orchid whose very scent can transport her to another world.  

 

A girl caught between two loves, two worlds…

 

Knowing the truth can destroy everyone…

 

A tale of love, magic, destiny, and betrayal...

 

Desire

 

 

Join Us for the Launch of this New Series

 

BOOK: Angels and Hunters (Stoker Sisters 2)
2.81Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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