Page 25 of A Noble Affair
The dowager enunciated with asperity. “It’s that actress of yours. You’re holding this ball to impress her.”
“Maman,” Adelaide couldn’t resist crying out.
The viscount pressed his lips together for a moment before replying. “There will be significant tax benefits to my doing this. I am motivated purely by financial reasons—and the duty someone in my position has to the town. Surely you understand that, Maman.”
That was all Paltier heard because the viscount signaled for him to remove the first course and bring the second. He had brought the under-waiters in to assist but decided on his way down to the kitchen that he would be bringing the food in himself while the family was discussing such confidential matters.
He remembered allthis in the dusty wine room, and wondered if the château would once again see some of its former glory—the days when the young viscount’s father had held the seat. He picked his leather bag up from the wooden shelf, carefully shielding his selections and made his way up the stairs.
As he disappeared from view, a shadowed figure crept from one of the side rooms. He looked both ways to make sure he was unobserved, although he did not expect to be. He stuffed his roll of bedding in the closed space underneath the ancient unused heater where he knew it would not be discovered. Then he went to the door leading to the garden, took out his key and noiselessly slipped it in the lock, stepping out. The air was biting and it was dark, but he knew of a place where he could get a cup of hot coffee this early, even on New Year’s Eve.
Thomas was eatinghandfuls of popcorn, allowing stray kernels to fall on the floor. Nat King Cole’s Christmas album was playing in the background, although Christmas was over. It made the ambiance in Chastity’s apartment that much more cheerful. The decorations were still up, and the white lights on the tree emitted a soft, cozy light.
Thomas took a break from eating popcorn. “Papa, what did you do to celebrate New Year’s when you were in prison?”
Marc was sitting on the couch with Thomas settled at his feet. He glanced down at his son. “There wasn’t much of a celebration. Christmas was better because we had good food to eat, and even a couple of gifts if we were lucky. The guards weren’t exactly going to let us stay up late and have a party on New Year’s. That would get too rowdy.” He grinned and tousled the boy’s hair.
“I bet you’re glad to be here celebrating with us, aren’t you?” Thomas smiled up at him, and put his hand back into the popcorn.
Chastity went towards the kitchen, bringing the dessert dishes with her. She wasn’t precisely nervous, but she wasn’t completely comfortable either. She checked her reflection in the mirror that hung in the small dining room. The black cardigan she wore, with shiny black sequins sewn into it, caught the light and set off her auburn hair.
Satisfied, she went into the kitchen and set the dishes down, exhaling as she leaned against the counter. Marc appeared in the doorway. “Can I help with the dishes?”
“No, no, that’s fine,” she protested.
“I insist.” He grabbed the heavy meat platter and set it in the sink. She wasn’t exactly a maniac about cleanliness, but even she could see that the cold water wasn’t going to cut through the grease. She would have to wash the dishes again.
She busied herself with putting the plates in the dishwasher, and they worked in silence.
“Chassy,” Marc said, using the old nickname. “Thanks so much for allowing me to be part of your evening. It means a lot to me.”
“I’m glad you could come,” Chastity replied, not quite lying. Her own feelings were a mystery to her. Marc picked up the ceramic bowl that had held the potatoes and began drying it with a towel. He stared at her, and when he set the bowl down, she finally looked up at him. “What?”
His expression was intent. “Do you think there’s any chance of us…” He trailed away uncertainly.
Her mouth opened in surprise. She should have noticed his feelings had shifted, but she hadn’t been paying attention. She had only been trying to figure out what her own feelings were.
“Marc, I don’t know.” She shook her head. “It’s been a long time and we have both changed a lot.”
“What I want,” he responded, “is to start fresh—as the people we have become. Create a new story.”
“I still don’t feel like I know you.” She laughed without humor. “Honestly, I’m not even sure I know myself.”
“Maybe we could start by spending more time together,” he said. “I think nothing would make Thomas happier.”
Chastity, flushing at what she viewed as presumption on his part, walked over to peek into the living room. Thomas was now lying on the couch, and though he was awake, his eyes were glazed and he seemed to be just about to drop off. The clock showed three minutes to midnight.
Marc sensed her anger and folded his arms. “I’m sorry. I don’t know the right thing to say here.”
Chastity turned back towards him, softened by his admission. “I’m sorry too. I need time. There’s just no way to rush this—there’s too much history between us.”
He stood silently, facing her, and nodded. The mood shifted and Chastity was able to breathe. She was about to propose they go in to celebrate the countdown when Marc grabbed her by the arms and planted a soft kiss on her lips.
“Happy New Year, Chassy.” He gave her a small smile then walked into the living room.
12
“It’s nice to be here.” Paltier gave a contented sigh as he shifted his feet on the stool next to the fire. He sipped the brandy and shook his head. “We’re getting older, but I guess God will grant us a few more years of this.”
