The Viscount – Chapter Eleven

If you’re new here, welcome! You can begin at Chapter One, and each chapter will link to the next. For my regular crew, I’m not actually sure if I pulled this chapter off well or not because it switches points of view several times within the chapter. All critiques welcome.

THE VISCOUNT of  MAISONS LAFFITTE

CHAPTER ELEVEN

You could hear the throngs of people through the wall of beige canvas tents that lined the grounds. Thomas ran ahead to where the opening was, and then turned back to smile at his mom, beckoning. Then he was gone.

“Thomas, wait!” But it was half-hearted. She was already letting the bright festivity of the marché de noel pull her in from the cold darkness that lay outside the market.

The open-faced tents were set up in a large square, with aisles connecting the two ends, forming a sort of labyrinth. The aisles were carpeted in red, and each tent was brightly lit on the outside so that the interior was muted in soft lighting, but the aisles remained brilliant – vibrant with Christmas colors and bustling with people. You could spend hours in the market, going down one edge and examining the goods, then going down the other side and catching the stalls you missed. Chastity could smell the hot, spiced wine from the entrance, its fragrance mixing with the smoky scent of roasting chestnuts.

Thomas was in front of one of the first stalls, his gaze already fixated on a stand with wooden toys. There was a chess set, wooden puppets in various sizes and positions, and complicated puzzles that Chastity had no interest in even beginning to attempt. Thomas gingerly took one of them in his hands.

Chastity bit her lip to keep from admonishing him to put it back, and just watched him. He turned the puzzle this way and that, his brows pulled together as he concentrated. The vendor watched him for a moment, then gently took the puzzle from his hands, gave an unexpected series of twists and pulls, which freed the wooden loop from its prison. Then he winked at Thomas and handed it back to him. Thomas looked up in delight, his eyes shining, and then he flashed a grin at the vendor. She made a mental note to come back and get the puzzle for a Christmas gift.

“Come,” she said. “Let’s get a waffle first and then we can visit all the stands. We won’t be eating dinner until after we get home and I don’t want you to get grouchy.”

“I never get grouchy,” he replied indignantly.

“You’re right honey,” she answered, complacently. They were standing in front of the confection stand so she smiled at the woman and gestured “two,” pointing at the waffles, before leaning down to kiss her son’s head.

**

The Viscount walked next to Manon with her arm woven through his. She made a pretty picture with her blond curls set against her red wool coat, tied at the waist. The actress was home for the holidays, and as promised, he did not end their relationship before they had a chance to see if they could make it work in person – to see if there was still something there.

But the Viscount was feeling ill-at-ease about his decision to bring her to his city’s Christmas market, and this was not helping their relationship. For one thing, she was wearing her sunglasses, although night had fallen early. And she now had the permanent reflex of moving furtively, which of course called even more attention to herself. As he watched her, he couldn’t help but feel that her gestures were theatrical. Nothing seemed genuine. No expression of delight, no pleading for him to offer her a “darling little trinket” seemed natural to him. He was the model of graciousness, but his heart wasn’t in it.

She stopped at one of the stands and squealed softly over some Belgian lace. The silk threads were woven so daintily, it seemed like they would fall apart, but the pastoral image was stronger than it looked.

“May I offer you a gift?” he asked politely.

“Oh Charles, would you?” she responded sweetly. “Of course I can afford it, but it’s nicer to receive it as a gift than to buy it with my own money. It makes me feel cherished.” The Viscount felt a twinge of guilt as he opened his wallet.

He handed her the paper bag containing the expensive token wrapped in tissue paper, and then said. “Shall we get something to eat?” indicating the stand in front of them. He could see her hesitate as she scanned the menu of fried dough and candy apples.

“Sure,” she said finally with a quick smile. “I’ll have a crèpe with jam.” The Viscount went over to pay, knowing that most of it would end up in the garbage. Manon courageously took the only wooden bench that was left, fiddling with the tassles on her pale pink purse with gold buckles. She was jumpy and fearful that someone would recognize her.

* *

Chastity thought the woman facing her looked familiar as she took a bite of her waffle, and she only caught the end of Thomas’ sentence. “… too bad my father couldn’t come.”

She snapped back to attention, “Yes it is sweetie! I think he had to work.”

To tell the truth, she was surprised that Marc gave up the chance to accompany them to the market in what would have been their first public outing, surrounded by people she might possibly know. Her heart sank when Thomas had invited him, but she breathed a sigh of relief when he turned it down.

She squeezed his hand. “But I have to say, buddy. I’m glad it’s just the two of us.”

Chastity looked up and saw the Viscount walking towards her, easily managing two glasses of spiced wine and two crèpes. For a minute she thought he was coming to sit with her and she felt her face grow hot. He stared at her unsmilingly, as if he didn’t recognise her. And then just before reaching her table, he turned and sat with his back to her, a short distance from her son sitting across from her. She looked down and saw that she had powdered sugar all over the front of her sweater. She brushed it off as she felt her heart race wildly. Oh right. That was the Viscount’s girlfriend – the famous Manon in the flesh.

“ … but can can we invite him for Christmas?” she heard Thomas saying. He was almost done with his waffle and hadn’t noticed that anything with her was amiss.

She quickly caught on and answered smoothly, “Um. Perhaps not for Christmas. But maybe we can invite him for New Year’s!”

“Oh yes!” Thomas said. “He can stay up with us until midnight!” Chastity immediately regretted having offered even this intimate part of their lives. She wasn’t ready for holidays yet, even for one as benign as New Year’s.

* *

Manon took a dainty bite of her crèpe and chewed it thoughtfully. Then she took a sip of wine, before saying, “So, are we okay, you and me? We haven’t really talked since I got back.”

The Viscount stared at her, astonished that she would bring up such an intimate subject in the middle of this torrent of people. Surely she understood his responsibility was to support the community at the marché de noel, and not have his attention directed inwards.

“We’re fine,” he said. “Unless there’s something you haven’t told me.” He looked at her quizzically, but she didn’t take the bait.

“You’re trying to turn this back on me, but I’ve given you every reassurance I can think of and it’s like talking to a brick wall.”

He looked at her blinking away tears, and realized that for once she was being sincere. He felt guilty for the second time that evening for having kept her at arm’s length. Maybe he was being hasty to think about breaking up with her this soon. It wasn’t like he was ever going to have what he had with Marilyn again. Surely this was as good as it was ever going to get.

He reached out and touched her hand, smiling at her for the first time all day. “You’re right. I haven’t been very giving. But we’re fine.” He gave her hand a pat, then picked up his plastic glass of hot wine and drank what was left.

She blushed charmingly and looked down. Then she pushed her plate away, “I can’t finish this. Shall we get out of here?” He looked at the crèpe, which had exactly one bite taken out of it, just as he had expected.

“Sure,” he said. “But you know I can’t leave here yet. I need to stay and support this event a bit longer since it’s the grand opening.”

“I knew that,” she lied.

* *

Chastity watched as the Viscount stood up and put his black wool coat back on. It was warm enough in the food stall to take it off, but the cold air crept into the rest of the marché and made the outerwear indispensible. She noticed how nice his red scarf looked against his olive complexion. He put his arm around Manon as they walked out, and then put his ear down to listen to what she was saying while they turned the corner.

“Are you finished Thomas?” she asked with a forced cheerfulness.

“Yup, Mom. You’re the one who’s not,” he said. He pointed at her forgotten waffle on the plate.

“Ah, silly me,” she laughed. “I must have had too big of a lunch.” She pushed the plate away. “Want it?”

“No thanks Mom, I’m full.” Thomas was silent for a moment, slowly spinning the paper plate in front of him. Chastity’s mind was filled with the image of the Viscount’s unsmiling face as he walked towards her.

“Mom?” Thomas finally asked, his voice tinged with a worry she didn’t pick up on.

“Hm?” she said absently.

“You said I could talk to you about anything, right?”

“Sure thing, sweetie.” She was not looking at him, but at the crowd walking by. “Oh look!” she said suddenly, pointing. “There’s Maude! Shall we go catch her?”

With the alacrity that only a child could possess, Thomas forgot the subject and raced after her friend, grabbing the back of her coat.

“Tommee!” she squealed, picking him up and twirling him around. “You know, in a year or two I won’t be able to do that.”

“I know,” Thomas said, smiling as his mom walked up.

“Hey,” Chastity said as they greeted each other with the bises on each cheek. “Have you seen anything you liked?”

“Well yeah,” Maude said. “I’m interested in the knitted hats and scarves because I’m willing to bet I could make something like that and it would sell.”

“Wait. You knit?” Chastity asked incredulously.

“Every scarf and sweater Michael owns!”

“I cannot even believe you find the time,” she said, thinking of her own life and how busy it felt.

“Well, we don’t have kids, for one thing,” Maude said. Her face broke out into a smile. “And I find it relaxing. It’s orderly,  just like Math. Every stitch has it’s place.”

“Maybe you could teach knitting to your Math students,” Chastity teased. “The jocks would love that. Anyway, show me! I want to see what kinds of things you can make. Thomas let’s go see if we can find some other stands with toys in them too, okay?”

He ran ahead by way of answer, even though he didn’t know where he was supposed to go. Chastity admired his energy and laughed. “Don’t go too far Thomas!” He stopped suddenly and darted over to a stall that had stickers and pens, and small desk toys that were propped on little wires.

“Oh perfect,” said Maude. “He’s stopped just in the right place. There’s the knitted wear stand.”

Chastity walked over to it and fingered a tomato-red scarf. “Oh, this one is nice,”  she sighed. “Too bad I can never wear it.”

“But this one you totally could,” Maude said, pulling out a forest green hat with pale green trim. She whispered, “Don’t buy it though. I’ll make you one just like it.”

* *

Manon pulled on the Viscount’s arm to to head towards a stand with soaps from Provence. But he extricated himself, saying, “I see the mayor over there. I’ll be right back.” She looked frightened, but quickly schooled her features.

“Okay chéri.”

“Bertrand,” he said, extending his hand to an older man in an expensive suit that pulled at the waist.

“Ah, Charles,” the mayor replied, returning the handshake. “Are you here on your own?”

“No. Manon Duprey came with me. She’s over there.” He saw the gleam in the mayor’s eye, and knew that he would be expecting an introduction. “I’ll introduce you to her,” the Viscount said with a wry smile.

“In good time, Charles. You know I have to ask you again this year if you’ll consider opening your home for a spring ball.” The Viscount started to shake his head, but the mayor went on quickly. “Now think about it, Charles, before you say no. Your father agreed to it in the past and it did such good for the community.”

“My father agreed to it once, and some artwork went missing. I just can’t take that risk again.”

“I understand that. I do. But some of the townspeople are pressuring me on this one. The chateau is no longer a patrimony – no longer a historical site belonging to the town, and people want something in return. If you agreed to this, we would have every available officer on call to keep an eye on things. Think about, okay Charles? Everyone is rooting for this.”

“I’ll … think about it,” was the most the Viscount could manage, although he was quite firm in his resolve.

“And now, let’s see about that introduction,” the mayor said, clapping him on the back. The Viscount felt himself steered towards the soap stand where Manon was accepting a brown paper bag with her fragrant collection inside.

“I got almond, green tea, and lemon,” she started to say, when she noticed the mayor walking next to the Viscount.

“Mademoiselle Duprey,” he said, taking both her hands in his own and kissing them, before pulling her in and kissing her on both cheeks.

“Let me introduce you to Bertrand le Neveu, the mayor of Maisons Laffitte,” the Viscount said drily. The mayor already had his arm around Manon’s waist and was walking forward with her, pointing out a stand with chocolates. He whispered something in her ear.

“You rogue,” she said laughing and blushing. She was used to his attention – an older gentleman of position and wealth, favoring her with his notice. These were the gentlemen she needed to please in order to stay in popularity.

“Charles, I’m just going to buy Mlle Duprey some chocolate. You can catch up with us further on,” the mayor said with a wink.

The Viscount nodded, unthreatened. He was not unhappy to be alone for a bit, and continued down the aisle of the marché. His main goal was to make an appearance and let everyone know he was supporting the town. But he didn’t need anything in particular among the goods that were displayed. To kill time, he paused at one of the stands on the corner to examine the collection of fountain pens.

* *

“Mommy, it’s starting to snow!” Thomas said, running forward again. Sure enough, it was possible to see flakes falling softly against the overhead lights, although they were hidden in the night beyond that.

Chastity and Maude began to walk behind him. “We’ll just follow this row down to the exit and then be on our way. I don’t want to get Thomas home too late.”

“Oh! Guess what!” Maude said. “I saw the actress here – Manon Duprey. She must be here with the Viscount.”

Thomas had stopped at the corner stand, which contained horse paraphernalia, so they stood in the aisle just next to him.

“I know,” said Chastity. “I saw them eating at the next table. He did not look happy to be here,” she said, her dimples showing. “Mixing with the commoners.”

“His father had more of a reputation for interacting with the people of the town than the current Viscount does. Apparently his dad even put on a masked ball in the chateau and opened it for the community to come and dance. The mayor has been begging for the current owner to do the same, but so far he has refused.”

“Thomas wait!” Chastity said, as her son darted forward again.

The two women followed, and as they crossed the intersection of stalls towards the exit, she said in a voice louder than intended, “Ha! The Viscount!” A gentleman in a black wool coat at a nearby stall turned his head slightly at that. And though she lowered her voice, he just caught the rest of the words before the women were out of sight.

“No surprise that he refuses to host a ball. Why should he bestir himself to do something nice for the town when he clearly has nothing personal to gain from it?”

The post The Viscount – Chapter Eleven appeared first on A Lady In France.