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Authors: Fiona McIntosh
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although I secretly wanted to kiss Captain Drevan for the intrusion.
I’d rearranged my silken dressing-gown and stepped into satin slippers. It was time to embrace my role as woman of the house, even though it was nearing midnight. ‘I’ll see you down there,’ I said, after checking my hair was still neatly pinned.
‘Fleurette!’ I halted at his shout, my hand on the door handle, looking over my shoulder. ‘You’re not going downstairs like that?’
‘Why not? It’s a ridiculous hour. It’s my wedding night. Why on earth should I worry about how I appear?’
His mouth pursed and I was reminded fleetingly of Henri for some odd reason.
‘Well, dear wife, mainly because I forbid it.’
I think I began mouthing the word
forbid
silently, as though I needed to understand what he’d just said, but he was talking over my shock.
‘Not only are you not going downstairs in that garment, but you are also not meeting a captain of our army at all. May I remind you that the captain has asked for me, not my wife. This is men’s business.’
Now he sounded like Henri.
‘War is —’
‘I will inform you with the rest of the household. For now, please let the men discuss men’s issues.’
I don’t know why Aimery didn’t just walk up to me and take a full swing to punch me in the jaw. My mouth went slack with dismay as he strode to the door, which he closed behind him. I remained rigid with the horrific understanding that my role in this house may have a title, but it held little weight.
Nevertheless, I defied him in a small way. If Aimery was refusing to let me join him during this most emotional of moments, then I would join the staff; I needed to be with others and share the worry of war. This was not about our wedding, me suddenly being his property or abiding by his rules; we were facing a much bigger problem and I had no time for Aimery’s chauvinism. I hurried downstairs and then deeper still into the dark belly of the De Lasset mansion to where it felt as though the entire household staff had gathered in tense expectation.
Distantly drums were adding new urgency to the bells as the town was coming to terms with what the call to action signified.
‘Oh, Madame!’ Madame Mouflard exclaimed, looking aghast to see me.
Everyone stood, chairs scraping back, hair pulled away from faces, all conversation ending abruptly. The aroma of cooked food mingled with the smell of working men, the sudsy freshness of washed dishes and the inevitable tobacco. A fog of smoke hovered above their heads.
Almost tiptoeing onto the flagstones, I could still hear my footsteps it was so instantly silent, save the tick of a clock in the corridor. I looked around at the staff’s dazed expressions and felt as lost as they appeared.
‘Please, everyone. Forgive me for intruding,’ I began. I could tell now it was a significant mistake to defy Aimery. I felt ridiculous with all of them fully clothed and me in garments clearly of the boudoir, and of a wedding night. It was unseemly of me and they averted their gazes but I had to press on now. ‘I am feeling as bewildered as you but I’m sure my husband will tell us what he has learned soon.’ I smiled to encourage them.
‘Madame De Lasset, we are so sorry that this has occurred on tonight of all nights,’ Madame Mouflard said, doing her best to ignore my silken-clad presence, instead glancing around at everyone who murmured agreement. ‘The mayor received the telegram from the prefecture and Captain Drevan came over to inform Monsieur De Lasset.’
I smiled to reassure but there was little humour in my gesture. ‘I think our nation’s security is entitled to win my husband’s attention. The message will surely go to my brothers next. I don’t suppose there’s any coffee left?’
My request and casual manner seemed to snap them out of their spell. Making noises not unlike a hen, Madame Mouflard, whom I found myself liking in spite of all my worst intentions to hate
I’d rearranged my silken dressing-gown and stepped into satin slippers. It was time to embrace my role as woman of the house, even though it was nearing midnight. ‘I’ll see you down there,’ I said, after checking my hair was still neatly pinned.
‘Fleurette!’ I halted at his shout, my hand on the door handle, looking over my shoulder. ‘You’re not going downstairs like that?’
‘Why not? It’s a ridiculous hour. It’s my wedding night. Why on earth should I worry about how I appear?’
His mouth pursed and I was reminded fleetingly of Henri for some odd reason.
‘Well, dear wife, mainly because I forbid it.’
I think I began mouthing the word
forbid
silently, as though I needed to understand what he’d just said, but he was talking over my shock.
‘Not only are you not going downstairs in that garment, but you are also not meeting a captain of our army at all. May I remind you that the captain has asked for me, not my wife. This is men’s business.’
Now he sounded like Henri.
‘War is —’
‘I will inform you with the rest of the household. For now, please let the men discuss men’s issues.’
I don’t know why Aimery didn’t just walk up to me and take a full swing to punch me in the jaw. My mouth went slack with dismay as he strode to the door, which he closed behind him. I remained rigid with the horrific understanding that my role in this house may have a title, but it held little weight.
Nevertheless, I defied him in a small way. If Aimery was refusing to let me join him during this most emotional of moments, then I would join the staff; I needed to be with others and share the worry of war. This was not about our wedding, me suddenly being his property or abiding by his rules; we were facing a much bigger problem and I had no time for Aimery’s chauvinism. I hurried downstairs and then deeper still into the dark belly of the De Lasset mansion to where it felt as though the entire household staff had gathered in tense expectation.
Distantly drums were adding new urgency to the bells as the town was coming to terms with what the call to action signified.
‘Oh, Madame!’ Madame Mouflard exclaimed, looking aghast to see me.
Everyone stood, chairs scraping back, hair pulled away from faces, all conversation ending abruptly. The aroma of cooked food mingled with the smell of working men, the sudsy freshness of washed dishes and the inevitable tobacco. A fog of smoke hovered above their heads.
Almost tiptoeing onto the flagstones, I could still hear my footsteps it was so instantly silent, save the tick of a clock in the corridor. I looked around at the staff’s dazed expressions and felt as lost as they appeared.
‘Please, everyone. Forgive me for intruding,’ I began. I could tell now it was a significant mistake to defy Aimery. I felt ridiculous with all of them fully clothed and me in garments clearly of the boudoir, and of a wedding night. It was unseemly of me and they averted their gazes but I had to press on now. ‘I am feeling as bewildered as you but I’m sure my husband will tell us what he has learned soon.’ I smiled to encourage them.
‘Madame De Lasset, we are so sorry that this has occurred on tonight of all nights,’ Madame Mouflard said, doing her best to ignore my silken-clad presence, instead glancing around at everyone who murmured agreement. ‘The mayor received the telegram from the prefecture and Captain Drevan came over to inform Monsieur De Lasset.’
I smiled to reassure but there was little humour in my gesture. ‘I think our nation’s security is entitled to win my husband’s attention. The message will surely go to my brothers next. I don’t suppose there’s any coffee left?’
My request and casual manner seemed to snap them out of their spell. Making noises not unlike a hen, Madame Mouflard, whom I found myself liking in spite of all my worst intentions to hate
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