Page 15 of Beyond the Lavender Fields
The shadows of the vestibule did not veil the pallor that had set on her countenance. “You do not look well.” He rested his arms on the banister to study her. “Shall I send for a doctor?”
A mirthless smile flitted across her lips. “Three medical students in the house, and no one has the confidence to diagnose what is wrong with me?”
“Only two.” But someday he would be the third.
She straightened, and the listlessness dissolved. Whatever memories or thoughts had plagued her seemed to instantly vanish. “I am not ill. And if Émile has renewed his wager, I wish to reaffirm that I do not want to kiss you.”
Gilles settled his chin atop his fist. So much for offering concern for her well-being. “If you continue to say that,mademoiselle, you might find yourself believing just the opposite.” He could tell she wouldn’t answer if he asked what was upsetting her. Whatever weak point in her armor Émile’s comment had pierced, Mademoiselle Daubin had rapidly repaired it.
“That would be like kissing my younger brother.” She wrinkled her nose. “Non, merci.”
“We are hardly well enough acquainted for it to be like that.”
“If he has taught you everything he knows, it is close enough.”
Gilles scoffed. “I am far better at kissing than Émile.”
Mademoiselle Daubin rose and straightened her skirts behind her. “Then if you will send me a list of all the girls you’ve kissed, I will compare it with my brother’s list—as I am sure there are plenty of shared conquests—and seek out their opinions on the matter. With valid references, I would reconsider your request.”
“Your brother has a list?” Gilles asked, pulling away from the banister. Even he didn’t remember the names of all of the girls he’d kissed.
“Of course he doesn’t.” She turned to ascend the staircase, eyes falling to the hems of his trousers. “Did you just come from battle?”
Gilles winced. The glass! Her strange attitude had distracted him. “There was a small accident with my drink. I was finding the means to clean it up.”
The corners of her mouth twitched. Now she really saw him as a younger brother. Heat rose to his face. “You will find our cook and chamber maid in the kitchens, straight down this corridor.”
He thanked her and pivoted, wishing to be out of her presence and out of this house. Why did he always come out of these encounters looking a complete fool?
“That was kind of you to come to my defense.”
He halted midstep as her voice carried to him. “Your defense?”
“You did not agree with anything I said, and still you reprimanded Maxence when he turned to insults. That took greater character than I have given you credit for.”
Gilles shrugged, pulling at the edges of his jacket. “Can we call ourselves good men if we cannot be civil toward our enemies?”
“The Jacobins did not teach you that,” she said, taking the rail with a slender hand and lifting the hem of her skirt to climb the stairs.
“No, my mother did.”
Her head tilted ever so slightly, and once again she let her gaze wash over him in that disconcerting way that made him feel like a new mariner standing at attention for the morning inspection. Without another word, she glided up the stairs and disappeared around the corner, leaving Gilles to continue his pursuit of cleaning up the mess.
Now I find myself in need of a priest. Oh, Sylvie, I’d hoped the lies would stop when I returned, but they smolder inside as hot as the day they began. I lied again to Émile tonight, in front of his friends. About Nicolas. Where I am to find a priest, I am at a loss. My mother has not attended mass since the Constitution of the Clergy sent all faithful priests into exile. Do not worry on my behalf. If there is a priest still loyal to his vows in this city, I will find him. All is not lost, though hope dwindles by the day. This week in Marseille has only made it clearer that imminent change will not allow us to return to the happy peace we once enjoyed. Secrets, war, and division await. We will have to be strong.
And tonight has made another thing clearer—Gilles Étienne is a stupid boy.
But he has the potential to become a decent man.
How I miss you,ma cousine. Give my love to the family. May God bless you.
Affectueusement,
Caroline
Gilles sat at the table in the kitchen, candle lit despite the early-evening light coming through the window. Hair, bone, and skin littered the table around him. He stabbed his needle into goat flesh and pulled it through the opposite side of the wound. When he was a real doctor, he wouldn’t have to create wounds and then close them. But for now, the thick hind leg of a goat from the butcher would have to do for practice.
Voices outside the door and footfall on the steps made Gilles pause midsuture. No one had been home when he arrived after work except Florence, who quickly left to fetch something before the shops closed. Charged to watch the fire in her absence, he’d pulled the goat leg from the cellar to strip and cut for drying.
