The Perfumer's Secret (28 page)

‘I’ve had a few more days to get used to it,’ I admitted as I watched him put down the letters with disgust. ‘And if not for Sébastien, I think I would have gone quite mad with the knowledge.’

Felix flicked Sébastien a rueful glance. ‘Quite the hero,’ he said.

‘I didn’t take advantage of your sister, Felix.’ He gave a crooked twitch of a smile. ‘I was enamoured by her from the moment we met and I fought my attraction – you have my word as a gentleman. I tried to leave, get away from her for fear of my own weakness, but she insisted I remain in the De Lasset home and I want to say it would have been impolite to do anything but remain. However, I was already falling headlong for her and the truth is I knew she needed support in her shock and I couldn’t have turned my back on her, even if you’d been running at me with a bayonet shrieking a war cry.’

I couldn’t help the prickle of pleasure hearing Sébastien’s declaration prompted. No one had ever spoken about me like this; the novelty was like a drug I could easily become addicted to. I blinked away from my thoughts to pay attention.

‘I might also add to reassure you that had your sister been in anything but this shameful wedding contract, I would have denied myself a moment’s further time in her company. I am no marriage wrecker.’

‘And I didn’t mean for it to happen either,’ I chimed in, eager to share the blame. ‘Felix, this is the first time I’ve ever felt anything romantic towards anyone. In that carriage on the way to the cathedral to marry Aimery, I felt something dying inside and I genuinely tried to step away from myself. I wanted to live outside of the life that I was being forced into and when I took those sacred vows next to a man I detest, I resigned myself to a loveless life of misery. I was going to live without emotion and for someone who lives by her senses that was like a prison sentence. And still I had to be obedient . . . to Henri, even to you. But no more will I be servile to any man. Not even to this one whom I love,’ I said, flicking a glance at Sébastien. ‘You yourself told me the world is changing. Well, I’m part of that change now. I demand to be only with a man I love, respect, admire . . . I demand to choose whom I spend my life with – even if it has to be clandestine.’

Felix shook his head, incredulous, his features wrought with puzzlement as though he no longer recognised me. He stood, pacing at the hearth. ‘Well, isn’t this a pig’s trough we find ourselves in?’

‘This is why Father never entertained the idea of marriage into the De Lasset family. He let us believe it was because of an old mistrust that dated back decades.’

Felix leaned towards the fire, both hands placed on the mantelpiece, head drooping as though looking for guidance in the flames. I heard his soft groan of anguish. ‘Why couldn’t he have just told us?’

‘I think both our parents rather hoped the secret would die with them,’ Sébastien offered. ‘Your father obviously hoped to discourage sufficiently all thoughts of linking the families through marriage.’

Felix swung around. ‘Yes, but he didn’t count on Henri’s determination to blaze new ground. Our brother wanted to leave his mark, unite the two great names of Grasse. Now this has the potential to destroy both our families.’

‘We can’t let it,’ I said, looking between them. ‘We have to find a way to contain this.’

They both stared at me, for the first time united, both of them clearly astonished by my recommendation.

‘How do you propose we keep quiet about something so explosive? The church alone would regard it as heinous.’ Felix demanded.

‘The church doesn’t have to know,’ I pleaded at their astonished expressions. I explained about Graciela, finally shrugging. ‘We tell Aimery the truth and he agrees to leave everything as it is but he gets to enjoy his mistress, providing he leaves me alone. I can keep the charade up for the family’s sake but I will not be denied Sébastien.’

‘No!’ Sébastien said. ‘Intolerable for everyone! I want a life with you, Fleurette, not snatched hours. Besides, he wants an heir.’

Revulsion ripped through me. ‘Well, he can’t have one!’ I snapped. ‘He has to give up his dream as I must give up mine.’

Felix threw his arms wide. ‘And you both find clandestine comfort in the arms of lovers?’ His tone was so sarcastic I winced.

‘Have you a better solution? I’m just trying to keep our two families’ reputations intact.’

Sébastien struggled to his feet and limped to join Felix at the fire. They looked like twin sentinels. I loved them both so much and yet for all that love we faced only misery, all of us.

I watched Sébastien pull his injured arm out of its sling, vexed by the whole inconvenience of it. He turned to face Felix, his expression grave, frowning in thought. ‘There is a solution, of course. I’m of the opinion now that we could just kill Aimery, Felix. No one need know the truth, if we take care of the ugly business here, perhaps in the wine cellars, and bury the corpse behind some fresh cement. I’m sure there’s a small wall down there needing to be built. What do you think? The problem would then go away.’

I gasped in fright at the intensity and horror of his suggestion but then heard the rumble of laughter that had looped through my whole life like a bright ribbon. I loved Felix’s laugh. It was spontaneous and bright, like a firework being ignited, and it colourfully lit everyone who was in its orbit. Genuine delight from Felix was hard to win and so it traditionally was unexpected, came from nowhere – as now – but when it did it arrived effortlessly and sincerely because Felix never bothered with deception. And it was always accompanied with that deliciously dry expression of his.

‘Sébastien, you fool!’ I gushed, relief draining through me. ‘Don’t jest.’

‘Very good, De Lasset,’ Felix said, still chuckling. It was a sound to lift the pall that had turned the room breathless and claustrophobic. ‘Not many can entertain me and I didn’t think I’d find much to ever laugh at again since leaving Grasse. But you give me hope.’

Sébastien nodded. ‘Give me a chance with your sister and I’ll try hard to remain entertaining and not let you down.’

Something passed between them akin to a loosening of their conflict, or maybe I was underestimating it. Perhaps it was respect; whatever it was, I felt my spirits lift. With Felix on side, there might yet be a chance for Sébastien and me.

‘Felix, our mother loved —’ I began, but he cut me off, swinging around with a finger raised in warning and all of that former lovely amusement was doused as if I’d thrown a pail of water over him.

‘No, you won’t make me feel guilty about her. She is a stranger to us, Ettie. If you let this eat at you, you’re going to start feeling responsible for something that happened more than two decades ago that you had no hand in and no responsibility for. Anyone who takes their own life is clearly unbalanced.’

‘But —’

‘But nothing,’ he snapped. ‘If you could see what our men are coping with each day in the trenches, you’d wonder why more of us aren’t blowing our dark thoughts away with our revolvers. We have genuine reason to, in what we see, in what constitutes life in a trench . . . and in the death and havoc we wreak on other people, on our beautiful lands. Northern France, so beautiful, so fertile, is now just a desert of thick, black mud. The fields have been scourged, the forests blown up to look like a wasteland. The devastation to our countryside is heartbreaking enough without the death of its men. It would be so easy to end it and still almost all of us resist, but don’t think I haven’t considered it.’ I inhaled with shock at his admission. ‘But I always hear you in my head pushing that bullet of peace away and your will for me to live is stronger than my will to die, so if they want my life, they’re going to have to take it the hard way. I’m not giving it to them. Our mother was obviously weak. She gave in and gave up her life for what . . . a pair of lovers?’ He gave a sound of disdain. ‘With all due respect to your mother, Sébastien, and to our father, an affair before marriage is hardly worth our mother’s tears, let alone her life. She would have achieved far more by financially destroying him, if she really wanted revenge. But she didn’t, you see, Ettie. She just wanted pity because they kept something from her. I agree it was a heinous secret, but she was obviously too fragile of mind to fight back and let’s not forget this was, at its beginning and end, about jealousy. She had everything to live for. Her nemesis, Sébastien’s mother, even admits in her letter that our father loved our mother to distraction, plus Mother wanted for nothing. Imagine it: she had three small children, Ettie, two of them infants, and she put her obsessive love for a man and her jealousy about a liaison before he’d even met her above all of us. No.’ He shook his head vehemently, pointing a finger at me. ‘You will not martyr her in your mind, or try and make me feel guilty. What I am is angry. I could hate her memory now for her weakness.’

‘Oh, Felix,’ I began, a helplessly beseeching tone creeping into my voice.

He shrugged at me. ‘Our father was not blameless, grant you, but he didn’t push her off that rock, Ettie. That was her choice to be melodramatic and jump. But I do hold him responsible for fathering a child and then unwisely keeping that secret so it grew darker and had the capacity to do harm, to turn an innocent child birthed without knowledge of his blood into a potential walking sin –
that
I can’t forgive our father for and neither should you. All it took was for him to be man enough to tell one of us; heaven knows I would have understood his romantic affair. I could even have kept his secret safe but at least he’d have had an ally beyond his own lifetime, for I would never –
ever
– have permitted the unlawful marriage to take place. He failed in not letting the next generation know how much his choices could so profoundly affect us.’

Sébastien had been frowning, as though reaching for something as Felix spoke. ‘Well, that’s it, isn’t it?’ he said, a dawning thought brightening his expression.

‘What is?’ my brother and I wondered together.

‘Unlawful. That’s the word you used, Felix. Fleurette’ — he turned to me — ‘you told me that the marriage ceremony was rushed into, despite your desire to wait for all the right formalities.’

‘Yes,’ I replied, ‘but any day to marry Aimery would feel rushed.’

‘No. I mean, you told me there was no civil ceremony.’

I opened my mouth first in awe, as understanding glistened like newly dug treasure. I could tell it had slipped Felix’s mind too because he wore a similar expression of wonder. The comprehension turned to the release of wonderful relief; of course, the law of the land would prevail, as I’d warned months previous. But Felix spoke first. ‘You’re right!’ he said urgently. ‘There was no time for the mayor to preside over a civil ceremony and sign a marriage certificate. I remember when I mentioned this, Henri waved it off and said while it was unusual, so was the threat of war and the mayor would organise the paperwork as soon as he returned from Nice.’

‘Except when he returned it was with the bells of the cathedral ringing the tocsin across the valley,’ I continued, exuberance in my voice as I embraced what this now meant. ‘And then it was too late. No one was thinking about much else except war, and Aimery departed soon after. There has never been a legal basis to this marriage.’

‘I’m not altogether familiar with French law but I’m right, aren’t I, that the church service is irrelevant?’

‘Mere theatre,’ Felix said, blowing out his cheeks with certain relief. ‘Without that certificate from the mayor’s office, the marriage isn’t legal.’

My breathing stepped up with excitement. ‘So I can just walk away?’

Felix frowned. ‘Legally, yes, I believe you can. Your dilemma is now simply a moral one. But you can’t save the two families the inevitable disgrace.’

‘But at least no one needs to know the real reason that Aimery and I cannot live properly as man and wife. I would maintain the charade, if I were cornered, but this legal loophole is my chance to lawfully leave.’ It was my turn to hold up a hand as Felix began to speak. ‘No, listen to me. I’m sure when Aimery discovers the truth he will agree. We can devise some excuse that permits both of us our freedom. We could blame the war, for instance, and everyone would understand how it can change people. At least that way he could be with Graciela and I with Sébastien.’

‘I think Aimery would already be married to Graciela Olivares, if that were his desire,’ Felix warned, ‘but I don’t disagree with you that the legal platform does bring a new perspective. He will likely want to blame you in front of others, of course, as nothing must tarnish the De Lasset name, I suspect.’

I shrugged. ‘I couldn’t care less what excuse he uses, so long as it only humiliates me and not our family name, but knowing Aimery, I imagine he’ll want to maintain his heroic profile and will cite my overwrought mental state at losing my brother as the culprit.’

‘And there’s truth in that,’ Felix agreed. ‘Right, I suggest the first —’

My brother got no further. The double doors of our drawing room were flung open to slam back against the wall and shudder on their hinges as Aimery strode in, cape sweeping grandly behind and bringing with him a chilling draught that made the flames of our cosy fire gutter with irritability and expectation.

I was so shocked by Aimery’s arrival I was struck temporarily mute. Despite his travels he looked immaculate in comparison to Felix or Sébastien: he was shaven, cheeks pinched rosy by the cold, but there was that dangerous gleam in his eyes I had come to recognise.

‘Why, may I be so bold to ask, is my wife here with you, Felix, when she should be standing on the steps of my villa to greet her heroic husband home from the Front?’ His gaze reflected anger bristling so close to the surface I could sense him shaking beneath all that uniform. ‘And who the hell is this broken individual?’ he said, taking in Sébastien’s bandages and walking cane. I found my tongue in time but as I opened my mouth to speak, Aimery forbade it with a cut of his hand into the former warmth of the room, its temperature descending fast. ‘I did not speak to you, wife! I spoke to the man of the house.’

‘Still, why don’t you let her speak for herself, brother?’ Sébastien answered for all of us. Clearly he was not cowed by Aimery’s bluster or sense of power in Grasse.

‘Brother?’ Aimery snorted, his eyes settling with threat on Sébastien. ‘And by what right do you term yourself thus, stranger?’

‘By blood, Aimery. I am Sébastien De Lasset, your estranged brother.’

‘Ah.’ Aimery nodded, managing to look interested but sound uninterested. It was quite a trick to pull off, as he tugged at the fingers of his leather gloves with his teeth. ‘Reports say you were one of the heroes at the chateau. I heard you acquitted yourself most courageously, saving several lives. Not bad for a civilian to show such pluck.’

Sébastien shrugged. ‘A family trait, perhaps?’ The backhanded compliment to Aimery aside, he’d not mentioned anything to me about saving lives, only his own. I didn’t know in that moment if I could love him any more than I already did but I wanted to for his modesty, while his half-brother strutted like a peacock in full mating glory. Face to face with Aimery again and I knew, despite my earnest commitment, I could not live with him or keep up any charade. I would find it hard not to gag in his presence, and if not for Felix and Sébastien’s presence, I would likely be looking for a way around him and out of the house.

‘And why are you here instead of taking advantage of your escape from war, tucking your tail between your English legs and running back to Mummy?’

Sébastien didn’t flinch. ‘Because our mother is dead, Aimery.’

Aimery laughed. ‘Good riddance, I say. What happy news indeed. So now what, you run injured from the battlefront in order to lean on our father’s estate?’

‘Our father?’ Sébastien smirked. ‘Mmm, perhaps my father; not yours, Aimery.’

I watched my husband pause, his gaze narrowing. This was not the way to tell him. ‘Aimery,’ I began gently.

‘Shut up, Fleurette,’ he hurled. ‘The men are talking.’

‘Don’t speak to her like that,’ Sébastien warned.

‘Or what, little brother?’

‘Or I’ll destroy you.’ He forbade Aimery a chance to debate. ‘I can, you know. Legally I have claim on everything you believe you own. I can exercise that claim in a blink,’ he said, clicking the fingers on his good hand, making a snap that sounded louder than it should in the horrible silence. I wondered if he could snap the fingers on his wounded hand, now that we’d re-dressed it so that his fingers were free to move and hold items again. My mind was wandering. ‘I will demand precisely half of it all, which would surely ruin you as Grasse’s pre-eminent perfume manufacturer . . . or we can be amicable.’

Aimery’s expression darkened. Graciela had warned me of his moods and I’d had a small taste of them on the day of our marriage. I was fearful of witnessing them being so deliberately stoked, but with others present, what could he do?

‘I owe you nothing, Sébastien Beaumont!’

‘De Lasset,’ he corrected. ‘It is my real name, you know, which is more than I can say for you.’

I took a deep breath but was relieved that Aimery was too enraged by Sébastien’s threat to focus on his subtle baits.

‘People barely know you exist!’ he spluttered. I saw the weakening of his composure and threw a glance at Felix using our mode of silent communication. The way my brother regarded me in return suggested that maybe Sébastien’s confrontational tactic was indeed the way to go, even though it was not the approach either of us would favour.

‘Well,’ Sébastien continued in a dry tone, ‘as we Brits say, it doesn’t matter a jot what people think or even know. The law is on my side, brother.’

‘What the hell do you want from me? My blood?’

‘Certainly not. It’s not nearly as pure as you imagine. Definitely not as pure De Lasset as mine – you’ll be surprised to learn the truth.’

I mentally rolled my eyes and suspected Felix was doing the same.

‘But let’s just say that what I want from you will cost you nothing.’ That caught Aimery’s attention. I watched him swallow hungrily. ‘Just one of your so-called
possessions
will do it.’

I breathed out, scared now that I could see where this was going, and I sensed it was not going to turn out well. ‘Sébastien . . .’ I tried, keen to dissuade him against this path, but he glanced sweetly at me, only affection in his expression.

‘Hush now, Fleurette,’ he warned.

Whether it was me murmuring Sébastien’s name or the familiarity by which he responded, I couldn’t tell, but instantly Aimery’s demeanour changed. He halted where he had been moving from foot to foot like a child on a hot pavement. His expression shifted from haughty and angry to cunning; there was accusation in his eyes now. He was busily connecting clues. I would never make the mistake of accusing Aimery of being a dullard. Growing up around him had taught me his mind was agile, capable of speed and moving down sly pathways. I wondered if he had already made it to the right conclusion.

‘Which possession, brother?’ he enquired, intrigued, although his tone told me he’d already guessed.

Sébastien was not playing his games. ‘Your half-sister.’

Neither Felix nor I was expecting him to sound the trumpets of Jericho so politely or quickly. We both gasped audibly.

‘Sister?’ Aimery looked confused, glancing at both Felix and me, and I couldn’t blame him.

‘Half-sister,’ Sébastien corrected, unfazed and calm as a summer morning, willing Aimery’s attention back to him. I had to admire his directness. He left little room for misunderstanding.

‘I don’t have one, you idiot. Is this a jest? Has the war made you simple?’

‘No, but the war has made you a cuckold, although technically, given that your marriage is not legal, perhaps me falling in love with Fleurette is nothing more than normal for any man who lays eyes on her. It is also permissible, given the unlawfulness of your wedding. Plus, legalities aside, even spirituality set to one corner, morally you’re on the shakiest of grounds to be marrying Fleurette . . . although I grant you, you were not to know.’

‘What the hell is he talking about?’ Aimery demanded, finally ripping off his cape with great swagger and threat. Instantly both my men stepped closer to me.

Aimery watched this instinctive move. He nodded as if accepting the challenge, although his voice clued differently. ‘Felix?’ One word. A question clearly posed while spoken calmly; the query in it sounded almost charmingly innocent but I wasn’t fooled. The atmosphere felt splintered, as though it could explode at any moment into a million sharp pieces of pain.

Felix cleared his throat and obliged, telling our sorry tale in half the time it had taken us to relate it to him and a fraction of the time Sébastien had laboured over explaining it to me. I realised we hadn’t offered Aimery a seat, none of us had moved from where we stood, close to one another in a tight trio as we watched him receive the dreadful news. But if we appeared still, Aimery was immobile; not even his expression twitched or gave anything back to us so that we might gauge his response. He stared at Felix with unnerving intensity and I helplessly found myself looking for Delacroix features. Now that I concentrated I found them with sickening acceptance. The shape of his head was like our father’s, despite his colouring being wrong. He even tilted his head as my father used to – and just as Henri did so often – and the large blunt hands were achingly familiar. I wondered as I stared at him with this fresh insight whether he’d suffer arthritis in years to come and the ache of Heberden’s nodes.

I could also smell him now. It had taken a few minutes for the air in the room to warm again and my keenest sense had reached out instinctively and tasted the angry air around him. On it I smelled liquor. He may have looked immaculate and held his alcohol well, but I had no doubt now that Aimery had been drinking. I didn’t care whether the reason for it was to stay warm or to dull the memories of the trenches; I only cared that liquor did not make him a happy drunk, like Felix; it turned Aimery belligerent, argumentative and unpredictable. I felt the flutterings of fear, and my anxiety exploded like a swarm of bees taking to the wing.

I admired Felix, though. His voice was crisp and steady. He spoke in that calm, mellow tone that had always reassured me. Plus he was surprisingly concise with his language, speaking officer to officer in the way of the army – only the facts, no embellishment. He pointed to a small table. ‘There are letters that confirm everything between my father and your mother . . . even from lawyers on both sides of the Channel. You are a half-brother to Henri, Fleurette and me. Sébastien is the only one amongst us who is not related by blood to a Delacroix.’ He cleared his throat. ‘I’m very sorry, Aimery.’

I stood and moved towards him with the bundle of letters. ‘Aimery, would you like to look over —’

He batted my offering away and the bundle scattered on our rug. ‘No, I would not,’ he sneered.

I left the letters where they landed. I wasn’t going to give him another chance to insult me while I was cringing near the floor. Now, more than ever, I was determined to press for freedom. There would be no compromise, no covering up for family reasons. I wanted my name separated from his. I would never agree to Aimery De Lasset having any say over my life again. I hated him more than I thought possible and yet . . . yet I could feel sympathy for him. For both of us, paying the price of the sin of our father.

Sébastien rejoined the conversation. ‘That’s rather childish, isn’t it?’ he noted, glancing at the fallen envelopes. ‘But then our mother did say you were a needy infant.’ Sébastien shrugged. ‘You can’t hide from it, Aimery. And your marriage to Fleurette is to be annulled as of today. I will speak to the priest myself this afternoon, if you force my hand, and I will tell him everything I know.’

‘With your one hand?’ Aimery sneered, raising and opening his palms. ‘Sébastien, I will kill you with my bare hands if you so much as breathe a word of this to the priest, you dog!’ Aimery’s hushed warning turned the room silent, leaving it heavy with expectation of what might come next. I do believe I was holding my breath.

‘Why don’t you try?’ Sébastien offered. ‘Here I am. All bashed up and partly helpless. Yes, take years of growing up in my father’s shadow out on his blood child, his true heir. Go on, Aimery, I dare you. Use your bare hands on the injured soldier – I’m sure your men would consider you even more heroic when they learn of it.’

‘Enough!’ Felix stepped between them. ‘Aimery, you’ve had a shock, you need to go home, bathe, rest, and we shall all meet later and talk this out. No one will be speaking to the priest yet about anything, Sébastien,’ he said, deliberately eyeing him.

Sébastien nodded.

Felix looked back at my husband. ‘Can you do that for me, Aimery? I think we all need to take a deep breath. I myself only found out minutes before you. It’s a lot to take in, a mountain of hurt to deal with, a lifetime of pain to forgive our parents for. I mean it sincerely when I say I am sorry for you.’

The tension broke as Aimery lifted his shoulders and let them slump. He shook his head as if to say it was indeed all too much to take in at once. His voice sounded wearied and placating when he spoke. ‘May I have a moment with my wife, please, gentlemen?’

I didn’t believe any of us expected such a polite request. He was suddenly calm and it appeared that the moment of potential violence had passed as a result of Felix’s tenderness. I could answer for myself. I was tired of all of them managing me.

‘Of course,’ I acquiesced. Sébastien slanted me a worried look and I didn’t need to glance at Felix to know he was probably asking the same question silently. ‘I’m fine,’ I affirmed. ‘Aimery is fine too.’

Aimery shrugged. ‘I think we should at least have a private moment to come to terms with this alone.’ He gave me a searching look and I felt that sympathy rise – surely he deserved it, as he was in as much denial and shock as I had been a few days ago.

‘All right, we can step outside. Come on, Sébastien,’ Felix urged. ‘We’ll be on the porch. I could use a smoke, couldn’t you?’ he said to the man I loved, who hesitated to shift position.

‘We shan’t be long,’ I promised Sébastien in a murmur; unlike my lover, I was embarrassed by this moment of awkwardness as Aimery watched us. Sébastien had none of the history to feel guilty and perhaps why he felt so free to goad this man’s temper.

We waited as they left, Aimery glancing sideways but not even changing expression as he watched Sébastien limp past him. ‘Hurry along, can you, brother? We don’t have all day.’

Sébastien shot him a baleful stare. ‘You’re the one who should be quick, Aimery. All you’ve got is a few minutes before either you leave or I remove Fleurette myself.’

Somehow he managed to make talking about me while I was present not feel domineering. If anything, I felt protected by his threat. I gave him a tight smile that Aimery didn’t see before the door was quietly closed and Aimery’s head turned slowly back. He regarded me with a gimlet gaze, sharp and searching.

He moved casually and I resisted the urge to step back. Aimery walked to the fire so he was now behind me. Tense, I faced the door to where the others were; again, I resisted swivelling to face him like a cornered animal. This is
my
house, I told myself; stay calm, stay strong.