Page 96 of Beyond the Lavender Fields
“Victor has come straight from the docks on his way to surprise Rosalie. That was very kind of him, was it not?” she said sweetly.
Oh. Victor didn’t know about the baby yet. Gilles’s face warmed. Rosalie was a very patient woman, but she might not be so patient with Gilles if he spoiled her secret.
Victor nodded. “I should go, but I wanted to tell you I’d arrived safely.” He rose from the table. He and Gilles were built in the same design—stocky and dark haired like their mother’s family. But Victor had received all the luck and gained a little more of their father’s height than Gilles. “I’d hoped to catch Père before he left. He should make good time to Barcelona. I hope the weather holds the rest of their journey.”
Gilles nodded. They were to make land in Spain and leave Père Franchicourt in a place that still accepted his religion. Then they’d take the Daubins to the port city of Saint-Malo, a favorite of privateers and those at odds with the law. Somewhere they could blend into the patchwork of residents without being asked too many questions. Would Père meet Dr. Savatier? If Gilles ever did abandon his plans for Montpellier, it would be to apprentice himself to Savatier rather than to sail with Père.
And Caroline would be there.
The oldest brother fixed his eyes on Gilles. “I’m surprised you’re still here.”
Gilles rubbed his chin. Was that only a day’s worth of stubble that scratched his hand? He couldn’t remember the last time he’d shaved. He must look a sight. “I won’t have the funds to leave for Montpellier for some time. But I hope by next summer I’ll have saved enough.”
“What I meant was, I’m surprised you aren’t onle Rossignol.”
“I ...” Maman avoided Gilles’s gaze. Of course she’d told Victor everything. He listened better than any of her boys. “I need to be here. To protect Maman. And your family.”
Victor raised an eyebrow. “I won’t be leaving again for some time.”
“And I must keep Martel from sniffing out the Daubins. If he discovers they’re in Saint-Malo, he’ll raise his own battalion to track them down.”
Maman held up the spoon she was using to stir the chocolate. “I thought he was leaving with the new battalion soon.”
Gilles arched his back again. She had a point. But until then, Martel had to be watched. “He has spies. He would be furious if he found out I had joined Père’s crew instead of thefédérés.”
Victor retrieved his mug and took it to the washbasin. Instead of simply sinking it into the water for someone else to wash, he crouched and began rinsing it. “Working is not against the revolution. He’d have no sound reason to retaliate.”
Gilles rounded his shoulders. His ribs had to go back in sometime. “I’m so close to reaching my goal of studying at Montpellier. I do not wish to give that up.” It wasn’t like Victor to argue. He’d been away from home too long.
“Hm.” Maman briskly stirred the chocolate, the spoon clattering against the sides. “It seems to me you would get much more useful experience under the tutelage of a surgeon as good as Savatier than by sitting in a hall listening to some physician’s lectures.”
There was truth to that. Gilles pushed harder into the stretch. A powerful pop reverberated up his back. Ease flooded the area, and he sagged against the table. He twisted his torso back and forth carefully. He hadn’t put every rib back in place, but it was a relieving start. “I committed to working for Great-uncle.” His excuses were becoming less pressing.
Maman put a chocolate-stained hand against her hip. “If you do not wish to go, then simply say, ‘I do not wish to go.’”
“Gilles can’t say that, because it isn’t true.” Victor straightened and set his clean mug to dry on the table. There was a twinkle in his eye. “Gilles has never made a good liar.”
A flutter disrupted the determination that had settled in Gilles’s chest. Why could he not go? What did staying truly serve him? “But Martel. He has spies waiting for me to set foot outside of this house.”
“You avoided them once,” Victor said with a shrug.
Gilles twisted his back more. His heart thrummed. Pop. Pop, pop. He sighed as the day’s pain finally let up. His back and side were still sore, but when he stretched, everything seemed back in its normal place. If only he could fix the rest of his life in the same manner. “I appreciate your concern,mon frère. I did not realize how much my family enjoys making matches.”
Victor folded his arms. Maman tilted her head, dripping chocolate onto the floor from the spoon, which she must have thought was still in the pot.
Gilles held up his hands. It was too much. After all that had happened, it couldn’t really work so easily. “In the end, she is aroyaliste. I am ...” He swallowed. He wasn’t much of a Jacobin anymore. “I am for the revolution. How can we possibly make it work?” They’d proved their relationship would fail time and again over the course of the summer.
“She’s a woman and you’re a man who love each other,” Victor said. “The labels don’t matter. If you are both committed to making this work, how can you fail?”
Gilles chewed the inside of his cheek. Stepping on that ship was giving up his entire world. His dreams, his plans, his life in Marseille. His family. “I’d be leaving you. Perhaps forever.” His eyes fell on the table. No more late conversations with Maman over chocolate or quiet nights studying in his room. No fiery sunsets spent walking through lavender fields. Caroline couldn’t return to this place, and if he married her, neither could he.
Maman drifted over and sat beside him on the bench. She threaded her arm through his. “My dear boy. This war in France will not last forever. You will always have your family, no matter how far you wander from home.” Her voice wavered, but she smiled bravely.
“But ... I don’t even know if she’s still committed to making it work.” His throat tightened.
Victor swept his cap off his head and threw it at Gilles’s face. Gilles caught it before it fell to his lap. “What is this?”
Victor gestured toward the Old Port with his head. “So you can pass as me and fool the spy in this light. There’s only one way to find out if she is committed, and you have only a few hours.”
