A Bordeaux Dynasty: A Novel (15 page)

Dominique had listened closely to Jules, but Laurène, upset, had stepped away.

“Did Alex send you?” Jules asked Dominique.

Embarrassed, she shook her head.

“No,” she said. “And if he knew what I was doing right now, he’d hit the ceiling. But I know him and I know what he’s thinking.”

“You want to make him happy in spite of himself?”

Dominique, disconcerted, didn’t know how to reply.

“So if I understand correctly,” Jules added, “before I try to convince Aurélien, I’d have to talk Alex into leaving? And all that for something that does me no good?”

He was smiling, suddenly relaxed, and Dominique understood that this was the end of it. She appreciated the honesty he’d just displayed.

“I’m going,” she muttered. “I have to take care of the children.”

He turned around and stepped inside Bingo’s stall. He was vigorously brushing the horse when Laurène came over. She asked, almost timidly, “Are you still angry?”

“No,” he said. “It’s fine. You stick up for your sister and father, and I’ll protect Fonteyne and Aurélien.”

He tossed the currycomb at the young woman’s feet and continued to groom Bingo.

“Will you teach me to ride one day?”

Laurène’s soft voice made Jules melt inside.

“Right now if you want to,” he said.

He glanced at her sideways. She was wearing jeans, sneakers, and a T-shirt.

“Want to?” he repeated.

“You’ll lead the horse for me?”

In a few seconds, Jules saddled and bridled Bingo, then led him out of the stall.

“Come over to this side,” he said to Laurène. “Bend your leg … No, the other.”

He helped her hop onto the saddle, then put a hand on her thigh to direct her foot into the stirrups, which he had shortened. Laurène let him take care of it all. She was tense and Jules figured she was afraid. He raised his eyes and met her gaze. His attraction was so obvious it troubled her.

“Let’s go,” she said, her voice a bit shaky.

With a click of his tongue, Jules made the horse slowly walk in a circle around him. Laurène was very stiff.

“Try to relax,” Jules told her.

He then made Bingo trot and Laurène started to laugh, bouncing on the saddle, holding on for dear life to Bingo’s mane. She asked him to stop after going around Jules three times. As she dismounted the horse, she wound up against Jules. She was hot. Spontaneously he took her by the shoulders and had to fight back the urge to kiss her. But she stood on her tiptoes, planting an awkward kiss on his cheek.

“Thank you,” she said with an embarrassed smile.

He still wouldn’t let go of her and she felt panicky, stuck between Jules and the horse.

“Please?” she said.

He stood aside, reluctantly, unable to decide whether he should risk being turned down once again. He hopped onto the saddle, without the help of the stirrup, exasperated with his own cowardice. Laurène felt just as frustrated and uncomfortable as he did.

She joked, with the clumsiness that characterized their relationship: “You almost lost control of yourself, just now!”

Bingo was about to dart, but Jules held him back.

“If I’d lost control, we’d be in his stall, in the hay!”

Incredibly offended by Jules’s brutal tone, she shot back, losing control herself, “That’s what you do with women in general? No dates, no nothing, just a roll in the hay? Maybe we can do that sometime. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

“Lucky for you,” Jules said, “Aurélien taught his sons well.”

Perched on his horse, he towered over Laurène. Having to raise her head high to look at him, she hated herself for having provoked him and was dying for him to get off Bingo and hold her in his arms. She found it unbearable to still love him after he’d ignored her for so long.

Jules found the courage to slowly go down the driveway without giving Bingo a whack on the rump to make him take off. It had been the first time in his life that he’d felt so vulnerable and at a loss with a woman. He thought Laurène was driving him crazy, and that he needed to get ahold of himself. He needed to be himself again. When he was far enough from Fonteyne, he let Bingo run.

Laurène remained by the stable for a while, miserable and indecisive. She had no idea where she stood. Her lunch with Robert the previous day had been pleasant, since at least with him she managed to be comfortable, whereas every time she got close to Jules, she felt unhappy and clumsy. He paralyzed her, but she still went out looking for him ten times a day, in spite of herself. And when she did find Jules, all she could come up with were stupid things to say that would inevitably lead to an agument every time. She had an unbearable sense of missing out on everything, of being overwhelmed.

The air felt oppressive. Another storm was on its way. Sweaty, Laurène went over to grab the hose someone had left on the house’s front lawn. She splashed her face and, enjoying the water’s coolness, wet her hair. Then, laughing, she let the water fall all over her shoulders.

“You always shower in your jeans, young lady?”

She turned to Robert and directed the hose at him. He barely moved out of the way, ran to the faucet, and, still laughing, turned the water off. He then went over to Laurène.

“I just saw Jules go by on his horse. They looked terrific. Do you ride?”

“No, never.”

She sat on a fence and he offered her a cigarette, which she accepted.

“This is the time of day when Fonteyne is dead,” Robert said. “I hate everyone’s habit of napping in the afternoon.”

He was scrutinizing Laurène, fascinated by the T-shirt clinging to her skin. Laurène noticed his gaze and began to laugh nervously.

“You’re very pretty,” he said, sitting beside her.

“Thank you.”

He put an arm around her shoulders and she didn’t resist.

“Men must tell you that all the time. I should’ve been the first and told you when you were a little girl. You had pigtails, didn’t you?”

“Yes, and you used to pull on them!”

He had beautiful green eyes, as well as a charming smile that he knew how to use. He was attracted to Laurène because she was both gorgeous and pleasant. He figured she was shy and somewhat inexperienced, and so he couldn’t take her to a hotel in Bordeaux or to his own room here. Excited by a situation that made him feel like a young man again, he tried to come up with a solution and quickly had an idea. He jumped off the fence, grabbed Laurène’s hand and led her to Bingo’s stall, saying he wanted some shade. Glancing at the stall’s floor, he noticed that the hay was clean and, slowly, tried to take off Laurène’s T-shirt. Stunned by Robert’s move, Laurène stepped back.

“Are you crazy, Robert?” she said.

He smiled and tried to kiss her. His ardor was such that she began to feel reckless herself.

“I want you,” he said in a low voice.

“But not here!” she said.

“Yes, here. And now.”

This time, she didn’t resist when he took her T-shirt off.

“There’s no spot quieter at Fonteyne than here,” he said.

He was smiling like a kid, and she relaxed a little.

“What if Jules comes back?”

“He’s not going on a ten-minute ride, is he? Besides, we’d hear him from a good distance.”

She was half-naked, and he took a step back to get a look at her.

“You’re so beautiful,” he said in a natural way that disarmed her.

He took her in his arms again. He was very experienced with women and knew how to approach this one.

As for Laurène, it had been too long since she’d last made love, and for too long, she’d been ignored. She decided not to ask herself any questions and just enjoy the moment. She was young, and she was attracted to this thirty-six year old man that was undressing her.

Jules got off his horse. Bingo had just lost a horseshoe and was now limping. The blacksmith lived far away, and Jules figured he probably wouldn’t be able to come for a couple of days. He unsaddled his horse and set the saddle at the foot of a tree. He then took Bingo to the field and let him loose.

Robert had put his jeans back on, but he lay down beside Laurène. She was feeling wonderful and didn’t want to move, much less get up and get dressed. She looked at Robert, grateful and fulfilled by the pleasure he’d given her, and suddenly felt liberated from many things.

Robert leaned on his elbow and said, “Too bad we can’t smoke on the hay.”

He ruffled Laurène’s hair. Outside, the air was getting cooler and the wind had risen. She shivered.

“Aurélien’s nap must be over,” she muttered.

She sat up and smiled. For once she felt at one with herself, and life seemed brighter.

Dominique was right
, she thought.
It’s better to do what you feel like.

They looked at each other, smiling, both knowing that their lovemaking had been a joyful experience, with no strings attached.

“Are you cold?” Robert asked as he caressed Laurène’s cheek.

She was about to answer when she caught a glimpse of the shadow at the stable’s entrance. Jules was standing on the threshold, Bingo’s bridle in hand, unable to move. The three of them remained perfectly still for a few moments. Then, almost simultaneously, Robert sprang to his feet and Jules charged him. Laurène saw Jules punch his brother just before they grabbed each other.

“Stop it!” Robert shouted, struggling to contain Jules.

His jaw was on fire. They wrestled, one of them tripped, and both toppled and crashed into the hay. Robert was ready to fight on but felt Jules letting go of him all of a sudden. Surprised, Robert freed himself while still looking at Jules, now deathly pale. He understood that something serious had happened. Jules shut his eyes and curled up. Robert bent down and took his brother by the shoulders.

“Jules?”

Noticing the pitchfork on which Jules had fallen, he cursed between his teeth. With extreme caution, he rolled his brother onto his side and saw that his shirt was already covered with blood. Laurène, horrified, staggered over to them.

Without looking at her, Robert blurted out, “That goddamn fork. He fell right on it with me on top of him. Laurène, go to the house and get some disinfectant, antitetanus serum, some Xylocaine, and a syringe. In the medicine cabinet!”

Laurène was zipping up her jeans, mumbling, “Is it bad? Is he going to be okay?”

“We won’t know for sure until we take him to the hospital for x-rays. Come on, get the stuff! Hurry!”

She darted toward the exit, and Robert, kneeling down, delicately pulled Jules’s shirt from his wounds. He grimaced when he saw that one of the fork’s prongs had deeply penetrated Jules’s back. Another had torn the flesh from his side. Jules remained still, fighting off the pain.

“You little jerk,” Robert whispered. “Why didn’t you tell me the truth?”

Robert hadn’t cried in such a long time, he was surprised to be so shaken. He loved Jules. Much more than Louis-Marie or Alex. He’d always loved and respected him. And now he remembered how he felt the day Louis-Marie had stolen Pauline from him.

“Why did you tell me there was nothing between you two?”

Robert had acted on Jules’s green light out of sheer selfishness, knowing, deep down, that his brother hadn’t been honest.

“Jules,” he asked, “are you in a lot of pain?”

Jules didn’t say anything, but Robert could tell just by looking at his brother how bad it was.

“Listen,” Robert said, “I know I’m enemy number one for you right now, but I’m a doctor and you’ll have to let me take care of you. We’ll fight later if you still want to.”

Jules made a move to get up, but Robert prevented him from doing so.

“Stay put. Don’t be an idiot, you’re bleeding all over the place.”

Robert was hoping that his brother’s left lung hadn’t been touched, but there was no way for him to know. Jules was covered with sweat, his curls sticking to his forehead. Robert looked aside, distraught to see his younger brother this way. He got to his feet, picked his shirt off the ground, and put it on. He then grabbed the pitchfork and, in a moment of rage, split it in half on his knee. He threw the pieces away, took a deep breath, and went back to his brother.

“Don’t move, Jules,” he said.

As he was examining the wounds once more, he heard Laurène come into the stable, out of breath.

“I found some disinfectant,” she said, “and some Xylo with a syringe, but no serum. …”

“Damn fools!” Robert said. “No antitetanus serum in a place like this. …”

He grabbed some cotton balls and began cleaning Jules’s wounds, with a light and expert touch.

“No matter what,” he said softly, “you’re going to need some sutures. I’ll do it myself at the hospital.”

He ran his fingers along Jules’s ribs, precise and calm.

“Does it hurt here? How about here?”

Jules stifled a moan, and Robert put an end to his exam. He took the syringe and slowly filled it with Xylocaine.

“This is going to alleviate the pain,” he told Jules. “Laurène, go get my car. The keys are in the ignition.”

As soon as she left, Robert took Jules by the shoulders.

“Feeling a little better? Okay, let me help you get up.”

Jules managed to get on his feet by leaning on Robert.

“Try not to breathe too deeply,” Robert told him. “I don’t know to what extent you’re injured. I think you may have some broken ribs.”

When Jules had tackled him ten minutes earlier, Robert had been scared for himself. Now he felt bad, guilty. The makeshift bandage he’d put on Jules was already soaked with blood.

“I don’t want Aurélien to know about this,” Jules mumbled.

Surprised, Robert eyed his brother and said, “You tell him whatever you want, and Laurène will keep quiet.”

The Porsche stopped in front of the stable, and Robert helped Jules settle into the front seat. Laurène timidly set Jules’s pack of cigarettes on the dashboard in front of him and walked away from the car without daring to say anything. Robert got behind the steering wheel and slowly drove off.

“You okay?” Robert asked.

“Yeah,” Jules answered, but he was obviously in a lot of pain.

“What the hell was that pitch fork doing there anyway?”