“Hmm,” Germaine said.
“Alphonse was a childhood friend who wanted to marry me. He was very different from me and I don’t think we would have suited each other well. I’m lucky in that my father would never force me, while my grandmother thinks that all women should do is marry.”
“Yes. I have noticed your grandmother has very traditional views.”
“That in itself I don’t mind—I just don’t want those ideas and views forced upon me.”
Germaine nodded. “I agree entirely.”
***
That evening, dinner was another large affair with platters of different meats, cheeses, fruit tarts, wine and conversation.
The duke had not yet arrived but was expected, as well as another intellectual named Georges-Louis Leclerc, Comte de Buffon, whose published works on histoire naturelle were well known. Sophie had not met Buffon but he was a recognized man and known to Madame Necker, Marmontel and La Harpe.
That evening Sophie had enjoyed two glasses of wine and had eaten more heavily than usual. Together with the long walks in the country, she was sleeping deeper and tonight was no exception. After pulling the white linen shift over her head she settled into the bed, pulling the covers around her. The country was proving to be exactly what she needed. It was blissful.
***
The chateau was shrouded in almost complete darkness when the carriage pulled up. It was well past midnight and the moon was low in the sky.
“Just leave my trunk at the door,” the young man told the driver.
The elderly butler answered the door, holding one small candle but half asleep. “Hello, monsieur.”
He recognized the man as a past guest of Madame Necker’s.
“I have one trunk, but leave it until the morning. I have no need of it now,” he said.
“Yes, monsieur.”
“Do you know if my room is ready?” he asked.
The sleepy butler handed him the candle. “It should be.”
“It always is. Then good night, monsieur.”
“Good night,” he murmured and shuffled off to his bed.
Sebastian took the stairs slowly. It had been a long journey, a long day and a long week. Dorset had been in a foul mood and most of the problems were small ones that were being compounded. He was exhausted and Dorset had told him to go on ahead and that he would join the party tomorrow.
He had agreed. He turned down the hallway and into the wing. He had stayed at the Chateau several times and always enjoyed one particular room. It reminded him of a garden and Madame Necker always had it ready for him.
The door opened quietly and the light from the fireplace was only embers. He removed his clothes and wearily climbed into bed. The room was dark and he fell almost instantly asleep in the quiet blackness.
Sophie awoke once in the night. She looked to the windows and they were closed. Her eyes were heavy. She moved the bedclothes off of her legs and flipped onto her back. The country was so quiet and peaceful.
Sebastian had thrown his arm over his head and his fingers had felt something like silken thread. Too tired to care, he dismissed it as a low-hanging tapestry and went back to sleep.
As the night turned into the early morning, the sky was filled with silver and grey. He was lying on his back in sleep when he felt a distinct form press into him from the side. It was so odd. His mind was groggy and confused. Had he spent the night with Juliette?
When he heard a feminine sigh, his eyes instantly snapped open. He didn’t move a muscle. He looked around him and saw everything was as it should be. He was in the garden room. He saw his clothes on the back of the chair where he had placed them. He saw the fireplace and the colors of the room and the four-poster bed around him. Yes, it was Madame Necker’s Chateau. All was as it should be.
He was naked with the bedclothes only half covering him, but that had been his own doing. He remembered asking the elderly butler about his room and climbing the stairs. He turned his head slightly. A woman was lying in the bed with him. He racked his brain. No. No. No. Nothing had happened. What was going on here?
She was wearing a thin white shift and the cloth had wrapped around her knees so he could see her smooth white calves. She was slender and feminine and from the thin shift he could make out her thighs and rounded bottom, and instantly felt the blood rush to the one place that he didn’t need it right now.
He moved his head along and saw a slender back and then the strands of auburn hair against the whiteness of the bedclothes. His heart started beating fast. What was going on here? He tried to rack his brain. What had Dorset said before he had made the journey? Think. He had been invited by Madame Necker to the house party. Several people would be there. Yes. This all made sense. No! There was only one reason Dorset would make this tiresome journey into the country.