Page 8 of A Noble Affair
Chastity drew in a quick breath. Monsieur de Brase was here. Right in the center of the group of board members, talking and smiling as he shook the hand of someone she didn’t know. Her eyes darted to the right and caught those of her principal, Elizabeth, who was sitting at the table, a stack of papers and notes in front of her.
Of course her principal would have to attend the board meeting. Chastity wondered if she would learn more details later but dismissed the idea immediately. Elizabeth was her boss and would never gossip. As if she knew what Chastity was thinking, Elizabeth smiled at her. Mr. de Brase, finishing his conversation, caught the silent exchange and glanced at Chastity. She thought she saw a flicker of recognition and was suddenly conscious of what she was wearing. Yet another bohemian skirt. She mentally shook herself.
Maude was looking around to see who was going to begin the dialogue. When no one stepped forward, she broke through the murmur. “Excuse me, ladies and gentlemen.” The board members stopped talking and turned to face her.
“Thank you for your attention.” Gesturing at the people around her, she said, “We’ve come to talk to you about your decision to replace Anne Meurier.” She addressed Mr. de Brase who, Chastity was starting to suspect, had a principal role in the firing.
Mr. de Brase met her challenge with silence, which might have discomfited someone made of lesser stuff, but Maude just waited. Finally Mr. de Brase sighed. “You’ve come to talk. What is it you want to say?”
A couple of people in the crowd muttered under their breath, but Maude spoke over them. “Mademoiselle Meurier is good at what she does, and she adds value to the school and community. We represent staff and parents on this issue, and none of us are in agreement with her being let go. We would like to ask you to reconsider.”
Mr. de Brase eyed her unflinchingly. “Madame…?”
“Madame Rosier,” Maude answered.
“Madame Rosier. I appreciate your support of your colleague, and your interest in the board’s decision. But that’s just it. This isn’t a democracy, and the decisions are the board’s to make. We’ve made a ruling that we feel is best for Fenley, and that is to end Mademoiselle Meurier’s contract early. We’re not required to justify our decision to anyone.”
Mr. de Brase turned to gather his coat and briefcase. The grumbling around them grew louder, and Maude attempted to speak once again. “Monsieur de Brase, we’re just asking out of common courtesy to provide us with a reason…”
Mr. de Brase cut her off. “Excuse me, ladies and gentlemen, this meeting is adjourned. Christian, will you accompany me to my car?” The gentleman in question pulled on his coat and squeezed past the group of protesters that parted in the viscount’s wake.
Elizabeth Mercer stood as well, looking self-conscious, if not embarrassed. Chastity decided she would see if an opportunity presented itself to approach her when some of the tension had died down. The crowd was now speaking more openly as the rest of the board filed out. Chastity glanced at Maude, who was staring at the doorframe where Mr. de Brase had just exited.
Maude looked back at Chastity. “Wow,” she mouthed.
“I know.” Chastity nodded, her eyes wide.
4
Chastity clipped the front of her hair in a barrette and let the rest fall freely in light-brown curls that turned red in the sunlight. She put on mascara and lip-gloss but kept the rest of her look natural, hating herself for wanting to impress him.Why do I even care what he thinks of me?Her movements were abrupt as she zipped her makeup bag and knocked the plastic cup off the sink. It clattered to the floor, and she absently picked it up and set it in its place. She wanted him to regret what he missed out on—to look at her and see that time had treated her well, like a fine wine, and pine away in misery for having thrown it all away.No, not wine.I already feel old enough.She wanted him to see her as bubbly and festive, like an out-of-reach champagne.
All her attempts at forgiveness seemed futile now, because she was too mad at how he had treated her to be even falsely festive. Chastity’s eyes narrowed at the memory. She had become a despicable creature in her own eyes—and probably his—weeping and begging him in pleading whispers to reconsider. His parting words were, “I only went out with you because your name presented a challenge.” He stalked over to the group of friends, for whose benefit he had rehearsed this line, and punched one of them in the arm, grinning. And she stayed behind and sobbed.Like an idiot.
Chastity forced herself to exhale and picked up the phone. “Hi, Mom.” She smiled when she heard the familiar voice.
“Hi, Chassy.” It was a name her mom only used in rare, affectionate moments. Why shorten a beautiful Victorian name? “How’s my grandson?”
“He’s good.” Chastity paused, but there wasn’t much time, so she plunged in headlong. “Mom, we’re meeting Marc Bastien in a half-hour.” She could hear her heart thump while she waited for her mom’s reaction.
There was a beat before she got a response. “So he’s back in France, is he? I suppose it’s good for Tommy to meet his dad. It doesn’t mean he has to be a regular part of his life, does it?”
“No.” Chastity smiled to herself. Trust her mother to say something calm and sensible, and bring her back down to earth. “He said I’m the one to call the shots, and I intend to do just that.” She didn’t feel it necessary to mention the lip-gloss. “If it seems unhealthy for Thomas, I’ll tell Marc he’s not allowed to see him anymore.”
“I wish you weren’t living so far away.” Her mother was uncharacteristically wistful.
“I’ll be fine, Mom, I promise.” Chastity was sure her anxiety was coming through and continued brightly. “We have to leave soon, but I just wanted to hear your voice. We can Skype tomorrow at our usual time, okay?”
After she hung up the phone, the tension eased in her shoulders. Pulling her hair off her neck, Chastity turned her face this way and that to check her appearance in the mirror. Then she couldn’t put it off anymore. It was time to go. She peeked into Thomas’s room, where he was working his way through a French book, although he was more comfortable reading in English. “Are you ready to go, sweetie?”
“Yes, Mom.” He stood and tried to zip his sweatshirt, but it was old, and the zipper was not easy to get started at the bottom. She came over and knelt down to secure the bottom of the zipper before tugging it all the way up. She caught his glance and smiled.
“What if I don’t like him?” Thomas’s expression was worried.
“You never have to see him again,” she answered, calmly.
After a pause, he said in a smaller voice. “What if he doesn’t like me?”
Chastity breathed in and pressedher lips to crush the wave of feelings that started to rise. She managed a smile and said, “That, my dear, would be impossible.”
