Bisclavret

Chapter 17

"The men are returning to the field," the marquise says the following day at breakfast. "There was some trouble in Foneteley Comte."

I stifle a yawn as I pour myself another cup of tea. I've already cleared my plate of food and wonder how conspicuous it would be if I started piling more onto it. Last night's exertions have left me ravenous.

"Emanuel and Jacques too?" Livy asks from beside me.

Her mother's expression turns stony. "Yes."

God bless it. Why do men need to throw themselves into danger over and over again? They've barely had a few days' rest, and now they're charging back out?

"The baron is going as well," the marquise says. "To lead his men from the field. This time, it's Henri remaining behind."

"I wonder why?" Livy asks, her eyes sliding to me.

I keep my expression impassive. This news isn't surprising. He has to stay if he's to train me. A small, unwelcome twinge of guilt tugs at my conscience. The night of my surgery, he said he'd been a soldier his whole life, and I can't help but feel that I'm keeping him from it. I'm sure he'd much rather be leading raids than playing host to us and suitor to me.

The marquise takes a sip of her hot chocolate, watching me over the rim. "The two of you looked quite handsome together last night. Both so tall, so striking. More than one woman remarked on it after you retired."

"And the duchess, my la –?" I cut myself off. Exhaustion has me falling into old habits.

"Vivienne, did you mean?" the marquise says.

"Vivienne," I correct, though it still feels odd to speak her given name.

She grins. "Was that a hint of jealousy I detected in your question?"

"Curiosity," I say, though the burn in my chest belies that statement. Who wouldn't be at least a little jealous of such a beautiful woman? "Lord Giroux has just started to show interest in me. I'm wondering if he's keeping his options open."

Vivienne shakes her head. "He's not, from all appearances. Oh, he was perfectly polite to the duchess when she cornered him after you retired, but the conversation was over almost as soon as it started, and she was clearly disappointed when he left the party early."

"He sent stew and bread up to us," Livy says.

Her mother frowns. "Why would he do that?"

Livy's expression darkens. "Because while you were busy laughing with the princess, Jacques and the general fixated on the war and its atrocities. Belle and I couldn't even touch our food. Really mother, you need to speak to your eldest son about his dinner etiquette."

"I didn't notice. I'm sorry, girls," she says, looking genuinely apologetic.

I set my tea down. "You weren't close enough to hear."

She inclines her head. "True, but I'm sorry nonetheless. You shouldn't have to listen to that. What we read in the papers is awful enough." Her gaze shifts to Livy. "I'll speak to Jacques."

Livy nods, but her brows are still pinched in annoyance.

Vivienne turns back to me. "That was very kind of Henri to notice your distress and send you both a decent meal."

Livy responds before I can. "It was kind. I'm sure if he had been sitting closer, he would have stopped Jacques' discussion."

Vivienne's smile turns into a stern frown as she regards her daughter. "I said I'll speak to Jacques, and I will."