Page 159 of House of Roots and Ruin
Dauphine’s laughter cut my sentence in half. “You don’t know the half of it. He never stops working. Even when you pry him out of the greenhouse, he’s still thinking, still writing. Do you know how many notebooks he goes through in a year, writing and drawing and musing?” She shook her head, swirling the wine around in the goblet.
“Where does he keep them all?”
Julien had guessed there was a laboratory secreted somewhere in the estate, far from the greenhouse, where Gerard did the majority of his experiments. Would Dauphine give it away?
Her bracelets clinked down her arm as she scooped up another slice of bread. “What an odd question.”
I bit my lip. “I only…I know how hard it is to store my canvases and supplies…. I just wondered.”
Dauphine shrugged, settling back into her seat in the most relaxed stance I’d ever seen her. “It’s a large house. I wouldn’t know…. These chairs are surprisingly comfortable. I wonder if we should get something like them for Chauntilalie. In the Lilac Study, don’t you think?”
“And all that work, all that time…all over plants,” I poked, hoping it would keep her on track, prompting further revelations.
She offered me a small smile. “Oh, but I know Alexander won’t be that way. He’s always been such a considerate boy. Even as a child. It’s such a shame he…”
“What?”
She shook her head. “It’s silly to want for things that can’t be, but sometimes I find myself wondering about what he’d have been like if he’d not…” She pressed her lips together.
“Fallen?” I supplied.
“Fallen,” she agreed. “Has he told you about that day?”
I nodded.
“How he remembers it?”
Her phrasing struck me as odd. “He said he was running on the stairs and fell.” I noticed her glass was almost empty and leaned forward to refill it for her.
“Oh, Verity, I shouldn’t.”
“I won’t tell if you don’t,” I said with a quick wink, happy when she laughed. “HowshouldAlex remember that day? Did something else happen?”
She raised the glass to her lips again, stalling.
“They’re awfully steep,” I said carefully. “I can see how a little boy would have trouble climbing them.”
“You said you wanted to talk about the wedding night,” she said, briskly changing the subject, and I could sense it was unwise to press her further. “Surely you know a little about what is meant to go on then.”
“I…” I watched her take a large gulp of the wine as if to prepare herself for the conversation to come. “A bit.”
Dauphine nodded. “Well…I suppose…there might be…difficulties, at first. What with Alexander’s injuries…I’mhonestly not sure how it will go between you two.” Her finger circled the rim of the goblet. I’d never seen her so flustered.
If I made her uncomfortable enough, perhaps she’d switch to a more useful topic…
“Alex warned me it might not be possible to fully…consummate…our relationship.”
Dauphine’s cheeks burned. “Oh…I’d never considered that.”
“No?” I pressed. “I would have thought—”
She cleared her throat, then took another sip.
“We just hate to disappoint either of you.”
“Disappoint?” she echoed.
“We’d never have any children,” I said, sinking the dagger in. If she had known Gerard brought me to Chauntilalie for any other purpose than painting that portrait, this would be her greatest fear. “The Laurent line will end with Alex.”
