The next morning, we are ready before dawn. Servants have brought down Charlotte's and my trunks. They are placed into a cart pulled by two horses. There is also a large carriage to hold us and my mother, while the men will ride horses. My mother, who loves mornings, is exceptionally energetic. She flits around from the cart, to the carriage, talking with the servants that will be accompanying us.
"What has you so happy?"
"It is a secret your father and I will tell you soon." She beams and an ominous feeling spreads throughout me. What are they planning?
"Mother." I say trying to sound as if I am scolding her. Her lips pull further up, her eyes bright with excitement. I am confused by her response but don't press when she doesn't give me a verbal answer.
Father and Étienne lead two horses towards us. Étienne is proud and tall with his dark mount. I remember what he told me about loving to ride horses. Father, while visually pleasing, doesn't compare with his sorter mare.
Étienne gives me a smile as he draws near and turns to his sister. "Have you brought everything down?" He asks her.
"Yes, and it is already in the cart."
"Good, I think we are ready to be off. If all these dazzling ladies will get in the carriage, we will be starting our trek." He opens the door, and helps Charlotte step up an in. My mother follows. She giggles like a teenage girl when Étienne offers her his hand, in place of letting a footman perform the service. When it is my turn Étienne extends his hand to me. I take it, feeling a ping in my heart. It is strange, and don't think it is a good omen for my battle. I gaze into his eyes wondering if he feels the same at our touch as I step in. Étienne closes the door. After a minute the carriage jolts as we part. I won't miss Torcy.
The buildings pass quickly. I turn to Charlotte. This is her home, and all she has ever known. I worry she is taking the change harder than she lets on.
"Charlotte what are you expecting Montclar to be like?" I ask, trying to start a conversation, and distract her. She begins describing a fairytale setting. Mother and I occasionally chime in, until we find a rhythm. The three of us rotate between talking and silence as we do handwork until we stop for a lunch.
Étienne again helps us descend, even though there are several servants for that present. We sit around the foldable table as bread, cheese and fruit are presented for our consumption.
"What is your news? Don't you dare try to hide it." I turn to my parents. I won't let it go, as it has been bothering me all morning.
"What are you talking about?" My father looks aghast by insinuation.
"Mother already slipped saying there was something to tell me." Charlotte watches with amusement at the drama. Étienne stares at me.
"She will find out tomorrow anyways. You might as well tell her, François." Étienne instructs my father. What does he have to do with this?
"Mar.. I mean Étienne has offered to introduce me to several merchants in Montclar, as you know. On top of that he has offered to house us in his home as I search for a new location to base my trade from. We will sell the inn when we get home and use that money to pay for a nice home in Montclar. Étienne has even found us a buyer for the inn. We will stay a couple days there to finalize everything before we head to Montclar with Étienne." I stare at my father's enthusiastic expression, trying to understand if he is teasing, or if Étienne has really given us such an offer. I look over to the culprit who seems to enjoy my father's excitement at his offer. Amusement sparkles in his eyes, but his face remains flat as he studies me for my reaction.
"Your father told me last night. He had waited to get my opinion before accepting. When I heard I knew we couldn't pass on the Mar… Étienne's generosity." Both my parent's struggle to not address Étienne by his title.
"Indeed, Étienne is generous." I keep my eyes on him as I speak. He smiles at me, returning my regard. What is his plan? I need to talk to him in private, though I will need to wait for tonight when we stop to sleep. Everyone will notice if we sneak off now.
"I see great potential in your endeavor, and it isn't for free. We are going into business together." He covers his tracks.
"How exciting! Now I won't have to be without you!" Charlotte rejoices, taking my hands in hers. I smile at her grateful for her joy and acceptance. I hug her. Her enthusiasm is contagious.
"We can go to the theatre, and galleries together. I heard they have the largest gallery and fanciest balls. You will have too help me find a good beau." She chats away, preparing a long list of activities for us to accomplish. I look to Étienne for help instead of with daggers. He chuckles at my change and predicament.
"Charlotte, we have time to do all that when we get there. Right now, we should get back on the road. We want to make it to the Ferré's inn by tomorrow afternoon." He takes pity once he finishes his mirth. The servant swiftly disassembles the set up as we get back into the carriage. Charlotte never drops her smile.
"Charlotte, what do you want in a beau?" I suddenly ask after we have driven for a few minutes. I had been thinking about her plans for Montclar, and realized if I was to help her, I would need to know what to look for. I need a distraction anyway.
"Someone who is warm and passionate. I need to be able to talk to him without feeling too self conscious. Honestly, I just don't want someone like my father." She finally resolves her wants with the last sentence.
"I am sure we can find the perfect man for you once we get there, but I do worry about getting your brother's approval." I tease her.
She snickers and says "I will just have to beg really hard. What about you? What are you looking for?" She asks knowingly. I blush, realizing where her loyalties lie. She might be my friend, but he is her brother. I sneak a glance at my mother.
"Don't hold back on my account. I see the way the Marquis looks at you, even if your father is oblivious." Her words cause my already pink cheeks to become a darker shade.
"I am not ready for romance." I state, half pleading for pardon. And here I thought that I could be distracted by talking with them.
"Mon chou you will never be ready. You just have to find the right one and take them while you can." My mother advises. "Charlotte is your brother a philanderer?" She turns serious as she digs about for information.
"Mother!" Charlotte chuckles at my vexation.
"He is a good man, loyal and reserved. He has only ever kissed one girl." Charlotte is sage enough to know not to give me a knowing look.
"And when, pray tell, was this kiss? Should we be worried about her?" Charlotte struggles to keep a straight face. I give up. Mother will learn eventually, and I don't want to see Charlotte explode under the secret.
"It was with me." My mother turns to me eyes wide, and her mouth parted in a round shape. I look out the window not wanting to provide the details. Mother is kind enough not to insist. I stare as the sun sinks further from its noon position. I take up my work and focus on creating a design of thread.
Eventually the carriage stops, and we leave its walls to enter an inn for the night. Étienne pays for a room for the ladies, one for the men, and places for the servants. The inn isn't as big as ours with only two separate rooms for rent. As the rest of the party go to their rooms, I catch Étienne's sleeve.
"Can we talk?" I try to remain straight faced. I need to figure out his strategy to put up my defenses. No one would ever let a Marquis marry a merchants daughter.
"Let's go on a walk." He offers. We leave the inn to explore the small village. We wonder around looking at the few stores, including the bakery and a blacksmith mainly used for shoeing horses. He leads me further from the village down the road. I keep silent, not sure where to start. Once we are nearly out of sight he ducks into the woods, dragging me along.
"Étienne." I cry in surprise.
"What do you want to talk about." He is close to me. I look up into his eyes.
"Why are you doing so much for my family?"
"You are smart. I'll give you a guess."
"You are trying to force me to marry you?" I say it in a harsh way, to test him. I keep my eyes dark and clench my jaw to seem severe.
"I will never force you. I gave you a deal once but ran away from my end. I am just fulfilling it. Remember I first spoke with your father at the wedding banquet." Hurt flashes in his eyes, but only an instant.
"Why are you rushing us to get to Montclar then?"
"Charlotte will need you. Also, now that you are free, I don't want you to be where I can't protect you." He places a hand on my hip, testing my reaction. I don't push it away, but I don't lean into him. My mind wars debating which of the two is the best option, but never decides.
"Étienne, I need time to process everything that has happened."
"I know, but that doesn't mean I want to be separated from you."
"Is that the true reason you want to bring me to Montclar?"
"Maybe." He pauses caressing my cheek. I turn away, and he drops his hand. "If you choose another, I will accept it, but know that I will do everything possible to win your heart. I could never live with myself if you were so far away, and I let another steal your heart."
"You are Marquis. No one would approve of the relation."
"I don't need anyone's approval."
"I don't know the first thing about being a Marquess."
"A great governor loves the people, connects with them and places their needs first. You have a good heart, and I will be there to teach you anything more."
"Why do you love me?"
"I never said I loved you." He goads but his eyes are intense, stating his feeling.
"Fine, why are you perusing me?" I roll my eyes, but his smile reflects on my face.
"You are honest with me. You don't care about my title, but about how I feel. You are genuine, intelligent, and funny. Besides you are gorgeous." The last line is meant to tease me. I realize its intention to illustrate our relationship and understanding.
"How do you feel about me?" He looks at me expectantly. My turn to tease.
"I love you like a friend." His eyes light up at the word love, but quickly fall as I compare him to a friend. I resist the urge to touch his downcast face. His eyes narrow.
"You are torturing me now. You have all the time you need to figure out your feelings, but don't expect me not to try influencing them." He leans in and murmurs in my ear.
"I don't expect anything less from you." I push away and we head back to the inn with an understanding. He is going to chase, and I don't think I will be able to resist my beating heart.