My Brother's Crown (27 page)

Catherine understood. Then she picked up her fork, somehow finding her appetite on the strength of God's Word.

Over their dinner of salad, rack of lamb, and spring beans, Pierre revealed more about his parents' departure—information that Jules obviously already knew. Monsieur and Madame Talbot had left early yesterday morning. If all went as planned, they would have crossed into Switzerland by now, headed for Bern.

“Mother has been terrified,” Pierre said. “Her great-grandparents were both killed before the Edict of Nantes. Unfortunately, she grew up with that horrible story.”

“I hope they won't stay in Switzerland,” Eriq said.

Jules shrugged. “It's as good a place as anywhere else. They want to see what the business climate is there, especially for printers.”

“They will write when they can,” Pierre interjected. “They finally decided it best if Eriq and I came later, after they have a place for all of us to settle.”

Catherine cringed inside. So Pierre had agreed to Switzerland without having bothered to discuss it with her at all.

“We'll help here, with the business, as long as we can,” Pierre added.

Madame Talbot was an anxious woman. Perhaps she feared if the boys did not stay, the family would not get their fair share of the printing shop if it sold.

“We should all be leaving,” Catherine said. She bit her tongue to keep from adding that they should be going somewhere besides Switzerland, somewhere with more opportunities. “The sooner the better.”

“
Oui
,” Eriq said, and she flashed him a grateful look.

Jules answered, “It's not something to rush into.”

“Rush?” Catherine shook her head. “There is no worry about that.”

“That is enough,” Grand-Mère said as the footman entered to clear the plates without the bell being rung.

Catherine leaned back in her chair.

All were silent until the footman left again.

“This is larger than just us, as I have said before,” Jules uttered quietly. “We must think of the future with regard to the Lord's work, our families, our employees, and our country.”

Catherine wished she could freely speak her mind. For all his talk, she knew what he was really placing above all else was money, business, and profits—and nothing more.

After a dessert of crispy
bugnes
and stewed pears, Pierre asked Catherine to join him in the courtyard. Sunshine warmed the area, and the two sought a bright patch on the other side of the chestnut tree.

She asked him what he planned to do.

“Jules has an idea he's working on.”

“One that includes buying the paper mill on the Plateau?”

Pierre's face reddened.

Catherine crossed her arms. “Why would you encourage him in
taking any sort of business risk now? He is too buried in obligations as it is. I love my brother, but he's not a man of action except when it comes to expanding the business.”

Pierre shrugged.

Catherine felt her resentment growing. “I don't care if he thought the situation was under control today. Why was he one of the first to leave the church? He didn't even risk going around to the back to see if he could help.”

Pierre shook his head. “He was right. We didn't need any more help—”

“He
would not
have been any help is what you mean. He is the least courageous person I know.”

“I cannot agree with you, Catherine.” He stepped back. “Not at all.”

“His priorities are wrong, Pierre. Why else would he plan to buy another business when we should be fleeing the country as your parents have? I know how it works. I have heard the whisperings. I know people are willing to help us along the way.”

His eyes widened. “Then you also know that there are those who pretend to help but in the end do the opposite. Would such a risk be worth it?'

She exhaled, ignoring the question as she came at the issue with a different approach. “Eriq doesn't want to sit around and wait either. He said so today.”

“Well, he hardly wanted to flee to Switzerland when he was given the chance.” Pierre leaned toward her. “You and Eriq are a lot alike, actually. It troubles me.”

“What are you talking about?”

Pierre sighed. “I heard of your plan to go to Versailles.”

“Who told you?”

“Jules.”

Catherine hadn't said a word to her brother, which meant Grand-Mère must have. Perhaps, because Amelie was better, it might be a possibility soon. “We're only going in order to secure help—safe passage—from Grand-Mère's friend. That is all.”

“Are you sure?”

She turned to face him more directly. “What are you insinuating?”

He shrugged. “Like Eriq, you have always yearned for the finer things, for what a refugee could never have—”

“My faith is the most important thing in my life!”

He nodded, but he didn't look as if he quite believed her.

“You have a great-uncle in Paris,
non
?” he said. “Perhaps he will ask you to stay.”

“Do not be ridiculous. I would never do that.”

He motioned toward the house. “You wouldn't stay in Paris even if the alternative was giving up the luxury you are used to? Not if your only other option was moving to the Plateau? Or fleeing to Switzerland? To perhaps live in poverty the rest of your life?”

Catherine hesitated. “Is that what Jules has planned for all of us?”

Pierre frowned. “I'm not at liberty to speak for your brother.”

“First, if we are able to make the trip, we will see if Grand-Mère's friend can help us. My family has many connections. It's hard to imagine someone not protecting us.”

Their eyes met, but Catherine looked away, aware that she hadn't really answered his question. If her only choices were Paris or the Plateau, which would she choose? She belonged with her family and her fellow Huguenots, even if that meant the Plateau. In her mind there was no doubt.

In her heart, however, she was not quite so sure.

Footsteps fell on the other side of the chestnut tree and then Eriq appeared.

“We should get going, if we still have a home to go to.”

Pierre nodded. “We will walk past the temple on the way to see if anything is left.”

“Be careful,” Catherine said. Surely the dragoons would not still be there.

Eriq gave her a parting smile, which she returned. He had been brave today. She was sure he would have gone after the pastor's son if Pierre had not. And his arms had been so strong around her, forcing her out of the church for her own safety.

“
Merci
, again,” she said to him.

“For?”

“All that you did today.”

“It was nothing.” He smiled and then followed Pierre across the courtyard and to the street.

When Catherine returned to the house, Grand-Mère had retreated to her apartment with Amelie.

Jules was in his study, the door open. “Catherine,” he called out as she passed by. “Come here for a moment.”

Reluctantly, she stepped into the room. He sat at his bare desk, his hands folded on top. “What would you have me do?”

“About?”

“All of this.”

She placed her palms down on the wooden surface and leaned forward. “I would have you do
something
. Anything!”

“Monsieur Talbot didn't have much of a plan except to get his wife to a safer place. I want to do better than that.”

“You have had enough time to plan, Jules.
Now
is time for action.”

“Action. Such as?”

Catherine felt the heat in her cheeks. “Going north and crossing the Channel to England. Or… something.”

“We have a sick cousin.”

That was true.

“And a newborn baby. How would we travel to the Channel, let alone cross it? And what money would we use once we made it out of France?”

“Do we not have savings?”

“Most of it is tied up in the courts right now due to Uncle's death. And then there is this house, as well as the family estate. I cannot liquidate these assets if we leave the country. They would simply be seized instead. Is that what you want? To lose everything our family has worked for? To live as paupers because you were too impatient to do this the right way? We can leave Lyon if need be, Catherine, but we cannot leave France. At least not yet. If we do, we lose everything.”

“And so we relocate,” she said softly, her mind spinning from all he had shared with her. “To the Plateau.”

“Perhaps.” Jules sighed. “I don't know yet, for sure.”

A sense of shame overcame her. Jules was right. Her impatience could cost them everything. She considered apologizing until she thought of the paper mill in Le Chambon.

“One moment.” Her voice wavered as she spoke. “If you hope to liquidate our holdings, then should you not be trying to sell the businesses we have instead of buying more? Not even Grand-Mère thinks the paper mill is a good idea.”

Jules blushed, something he never did. “I'm trying to be pragmatic.”

Catherine put her hands on her hips. “Like Henri IV?” He had been raised Huguenot but converted to Catholicism to become king. That was ninety years ago, but for the Huguenots it was a pivotal event, one that had kept them safe until Louis XIV's recent proclamations.

Her brother shrugged. “His politics paid off and brought years of peace for us.”

If only Louis XIV shared his grandfather's commitment. “Would you do the same?”

“Convert?”

She nodded.

“Uncle Edouard did, and I thought no less of him for it.”

“Yet you forbade me to see him.”

Jules shrugged, and she feared he was actually considering conversion as one of the options available to him.

“I have no idea what I would do—or will do,” he said. Before she could object, he added, “What I
do
know is you have heard more than is wise.”

“You need to stop treating me like
une enfant.”

“You need to stop acting like one,” he replied, meeting her gaze.

Years ago, when he had been proud of her, he used to tease her and tell her to act her age, saying it in Latin, knowing she understood even as a young child. He meant it as a compliment, implying that she was mature beyond her years.

Now he accused her of the opposite.

Catherine did not bother to wish her brother
au revoir.
She just turned and walked out, marching down the hall to Grand-Mère's apartment. When she reached the door she paused for a long moment,
trying to get her emotions under control. Bringing her temper in with her would only serve to make Amelie upset and Grand-Mère disappointed. Better to calm herself for now and deal with Jules and his ridiculous ways later.

When she finally felt ready, she continued on inside and found Estelle feeding the baby in the sitting room and Grand-Mère and Amelie resting on the bed.

Amelie opened her eyes and reached out her hand to Catherine, pulling her close. In a whisper she said, “Tell me about Pierre. I thought the two of you would be married by now.”

Catherine shook her head. It felt impossible to explain the last year to Amelie—how they had felt after Uncle Edouard left the church and sent her away. How the king's edicts were slowly eroding their confidence. How she and Pierre agreed this was no climate in which to be married and start a new life. Better they settle the questions of their future first and then take that step. They had weathered the strain as best they could, but she felt as if the last couple of days may have pushed their relationship too far.

All of that would be nearly impossible to explain, but it was still comforting to have her cousin, best friend, and life-long confidante ask her about it.