We again leave in the early morning to try to make it to our inn as soon as possible. The journey is smooth, and we arrive home by early afternoon. Jeanne-Marie sprints out to greet us.
"You have returned." She cheers. She rushes to me, and Étienne leans to step between us protectively. I shake my head and he retract himself as Jeanne-Marie throws her arms around my neck.
"I missed you too." I hug her back.
"Tell me everything. How was Torcy?" I smile, and take her arm as we walk in. Charlotte and Étienne follow behind, as the servants bring in our luggage.
"I am sure mother told you…"
"I can't believe it was the Baron Jean-Baptiste of Torcy who you married! Who would have thought that such an influential man would take notice of you?" I know that she doesn't mean to sound offensive, but sometimes she doesn't choose her words well. I swallow my pride.
"I was surprised, but he passed..."
"It must be heartbreaking to be a widow at such a young age. You didn't get to enjoy married life. Did his sons already kick you out of Torcy?" She asks with wide eyes expecting gossip.
"I am okay…" I start, wanting to assure her I am not a widow, nor heart broken.
"It must have been so romantic to have meet the most powerful man around and have him demanding for you. I am sure he was dashing like in the fairytales…" I am at my wits end. I want to stop from remembering the past and forget the nightmare of this last week.
A voice cuts her off. "Camille." Charlotte pulls on my sleeve, trying to alleviate my struggle.
"How rude of me! Jeanne-Marie, this is Lady Charlotte-Anne of Torcy, the Baron's only daughter, and this man is the Marquis Étienne-Yves of Montclar, the Baron's third son." She is finally shocked into blissful silence. Jeanne-Marie is normally pleasant company, but once gossip is involved, she dominates the conversation to vexation. "Charlotte, Étienne, this is our maid Jeanne-Marie." She continues to stare blankly as her brain processes the statues of those in front of her, and my intimacy with them.
"Jeanne-Marie." Father calls her, snapping her from her revelries.
"I am enchanted to meet you." She curtsies low. "If you will excuse me." She follows father upstairs to his study. He is probably telling her his decision to move operations to Montclar.
"I don't remember her being so talkative last time." Étienne states.
"She is well meaning, but when she gets excited, she sometimes forgets her manners." I explain. "Come Charlotte, let me show you around."
I lead Charlotte to various corners of the inn, from the kitchen to the hall, and the vegetable gardens. Étienne trails behind us like a lost puppy.
"Are you bored?" I ask him.
"I am enjoying my last days before I return to my seat as Marquis."
"Then I hope you find it pleasing here. It isn't much, nothing like a chateau, but it is cozy, and home."
"I find it lovely." Charlotte passes her judgement. Étienne face is covered with his stoic expression, but he nods in agreement.
"Good, I hope it won't be too monotonous staying here for the next days. There isn't much that happens here." The sun brightens our path as we stroll through the garden.
"I am sure that I will enjoy myself. I have plenty of handwork." Charlotte offers. "I also have you to spend time with."
"I have plenty occupy me." Étienne says with a gleam in his dark eyes, telling me he is plotting something.
"If either of you want to read, I can get one of the books my father has. They aren't terribly interesting, but they are good to use to pass an afternoon."
"Do you read much?" Étienne asks.
"When I can, but almost all of my father's library consists of law or business books."
"What genre do you prefer?"
"Father has a few poetry books that I find pretty. I have managed to read a several comedies and tragedies but not enough to pass a judgement on their merit."
"Which have you read?"
I rattle off some uncommon titles. "Which genre do you prefer?"
"I have primarily read books on war, strategy and history. I needed those as a base for my career."
"You have tome now. Which would you want to try?"
"I don't know. I have always restricted my literature to what I needed to read."
"How old were you when you joined the army?"
"Just shy of my 18th birthday, but I always trained to join."
"Why? Isn't a career there dangerous?"
"I had a knack for it. I am the youngest son, so I had to make my own fortune."
"You have done well for yourself, surpassing what your brothers inherit."
"I didn't mean to do that. I just wanted to be away from my father."
"I understand." I look around as I reflect, imagining what is would have been like growing up under the Baron. As I scan the scene, I realize that Charlotte has stepped away, leaving Étienne, and me alone in among the plants.