Ada & The French (The Woodhouse Series #2)

Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2

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*Paris, France*

In the halls of St.Germaine's Club de Gentlemen, the well-to-do men of Paris enjoyed a drink, gamble and smoke.

Some were merchants and traders, others were bankers and lawyers. Some worked as surgeons and physicians, others preferred office work. Loyal to their families, carefree bachelors, mourning widowers, liberated divorcees or secretly or openly unfaithful - every wealthy man who had a name, money or even once had a title, was here.

Paris was a place of wealth and glory - a place where anyone could become somebody and fifty years ago, it would not have been possible.

France was striving and rebuilding - the devastation caused by not only the revolution but the trouble that had come with Napoleon meant France had not seen peace for years.

But, the election of an anti-monarchist after years of attempts to re-establish the monarchy and the ruling class, had brought back power to the masses.

France was now a country for everyone - but some who still believed they deserved more because of their higher status still existed.

And they were quite unpopular.

Jacques Lambert threw back another shot of whiskey, intoxicated after a night of drinking. A prostitute on one arm, encouraging the alcohol intake as patrons sat with him, a game of Baccarat coming to an end.

"You know...being wealthy is great..." He explained, and the group laughed at his intoxicated state. "Too bad I have to hide it now..." He replied, looking at the woman next to him who rolled her eyes.

"There was a time..." Groans came from fellow patrons as his voice got louder. "When...we..." He gestured to a few of his fellow gentlemen who avoided eye contact to not be singled out. "We were the most powerful and influential people in France. We were wealthy, proud and happy."

A few boos echoed in the hall as Jacques glared at the room. "We partied at the palaces and were revered. This city....non...this country was a place of glory and extravagance!"

"Jacques...please pipe down..." A friend spoke. "Don't create a scene."

Jacques waved his hand dismissively. "Why? Some people might have their feelings hurt?" He mocked the crowd who were unsettled by his disgraceful behaviour. "That is why we lost our glory. Why we lost our influence and wealth!"

He was booed but Jacques Lambert was unphased - he had a passion and he was going to express it. "We merchants and traders...we bourgeoisie...had everything in our grasps..." He raised his hand, clenching and opening. "And then...some people couldn't handle the card that life had dealt them."

A man shook his head. "The poor were not responsible for their situation. They were tithed to extremes while people like you sat on bags of gold and paid nothing."

"No...we had it good because we earned it. The proletariat did nothing and expected everything and then became enraged that their own failings were responsible for their situation..." Jacques replied as the entire room booed, calling for him to be kicked out. "They ruined this great country with their jealousy and superiority of believing they deserved more than they earned!"

"People like you ruined this country!"

"You are what is wrong with France!"

"We got rid of your lot before...we can do it again if you keep talking like that!"

The jeers had Jacques frowning as he fixed his jacket, tossing money on the table to pay for his drinks. "And that is another problem with this country..." His slurred breath was loud over the cacophony of voices. "Opinions are no longer heard."

"Go on, get out of here fils de bourge..." A man called, cups and tankards hitting the desks in a beat - similar to an executioner's march.

Outside the club, Jacques struggled to stand up straight as he contemplated how to get home in his disorientated state.

As he strolled down the road, tripping on the cobblestones, he looked around at his city.

Paris was a place of wonder and dreams - but it had turned into a bloody war zone since the fall of the monarchy.

Nothing and no one was safe from facing the guillotine and he knew his outburst was bold and out-of-character for him but it had to be said - France could be a wonderful place to live if people like him were not persecuted for the card that life had dealt them.

Why was it his fault he had a business mind? A numbers mind and knew what worked and what didn't. He was proud of the work he had done to get to where he was and yes, he did have the help of his wealthy family but the standing and respect of his business were due to his own work and influence.

The tapping of Jacques's cane on the cobblestones was the only sound that echoed on the streets as he navigated them to his home - his wife and children would be waiting.

Tomorrow, he would be excused for his outburst as a drunken fool and he would be welcomed back into the group as if nothing had happened. His words were echoed by so many - he knew that but no one was as brash or bold as Jacques Lambert to speak them so openly - and while he meant every word, his inebriation would be the excuse and it would all be forgotten.

But some people would not forget.

Footsteps followed Lambert and he became aware when he glanced to the left and saw the reflection of someone following him.

They were pacing themselves - and Lambert hastened himself without making it obvious that he knew he was being followed.

He suddenly turned, swinging his cane but there was no one there, his breathing heavy. The streets were still and Jacques laughed nervously.

He needed a carriage next time.

Turning to continue his journey home, another quick turn revealed a revolver at his head.

A man in a blue, white and red balaclava stared back at him.

"Please..." Jacques put his hands up, hoping to just hand over his valuables and it would all be over - materials could be replaced, but pleading never harmed anyone.

"Vive la République Francais..."

The trigger was pulled and a blast echoed through the streets of a sleeping Paris. 

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Hi everyone! 

So...what do we all think?

This is all entirely fictitious - I don't know if these things actually happened in the Third Republic. 

The Woodhouses are leaving for France in the next chapter - is this going to stop them?

I'll see you all in Chapter 3. 

xxx