A Bordeaux Dynasty: A Novel (32 page)

“Not Alex. I don’t trust him.”

“Okay,” Jules said, calmly. “I’ll go myself. The Marteau brothers are difficult to handle, but with this fixed price, we’d be losing out, and that’s not acceptable. Lucas did some very good work while I was away, but I don’t completely agree with the way he reorganized the cellar. I’m also going to have a lot of letters to dictate this afternoon. Do you want me to ask Frédérique or Laurène?

Aurélien raised his head at his son’s question.

“Whoever you want,” he said. “I don’t care. Decide for yourself, but just make sure you don’t mess everything up for once!”

Taken aback by his father’s tone, Jules shook his head.

“We’re going to have to divide the work between them, Aurélien. … If it’s okay with you, let’s let Laurène handle the bookkeeping and give Frédérique the secretarial tasks.”

Jules waited in vain for some sort of response. He got to his feet and walked over to the French doors. He couldn’t get enough of Fonteyne’s landscape since his return.

“What a great place, Aurélien,” he said in a soft voice.

Aurélien looked at the silhouette of his adopted son against the daylight. He waited for Jules to say something else.

“I don’t want to … butt heads with Frédérique,” he finally said. “I can’t treat your lover as an employee, and I don’t know what to do. …”

Aurélien waited for his son to say more, but he was done.

“Do you think I’m an idiot? You always know what to do, even when you’re wrong. Right now, you’ve got these thoughts in your head about Frédérique, but you don’t dare tell me about them. You’re a child, Jules.”

Jules turned to face his father.

“A child!” Aurélien repeated. “So you’re going to have to deal with all these women. Big deal. Dominique does a fine job taking care of the house. Same with Fernande. And you’ll see that Frédérique is a good secretary. What’s bothering you? Even Pauline finds her place among the others when she’s here. But for you, everything is a drama. I’m just going to ask that you be polite with Frédérique.”

Jules kept quiet and Aurélien motioned for him to come over.

“You think I’m old, Jules? Over the hill?”

“No.”

With a harsher tone, Aurélien continued, “You think that a woman her age could only want to take advantage of me?”

“I don’t know. …”

“What do you want from me, Jules? Are you jealous of me?”

“No!”

Aurélien felt bad, all of a sudden, about pushing his son this way, though Jules was extremely strong.

“If something bothers you, son, tell me about it right now. And then we’re not going to talk about it anymore. Fonteyne is still my home.”

Extremely uncomfortable, Jules took a deep breath and said, “What do you want from me, Aurélien?”

His father sighed. Jules was out of reach, seemingly tamed, but always defiant. Deep down, he was as pitiless as Aurélien. They were rivals, and yet united by the same battles and challenges, the same passions. They were so much alike that they could only love or hate each other.

“I don’t want anything,” he said. “You’re back and that’s great. You’re home. You’re in charge of this operation, and it’s a lot of work. And you’re going to get married, don’t forget. You and I will have to go to Mazion. …”

Relieved, Jules acquiesced.

“And take a look at lot thirty-two, will you? Alex’s opinions are pretty much useless, and I don’t know what to decide.”

Jules gave his father a smile and headed for the exit. Aurélien watched him step out of the room and leaned back in his armchair.

With all that snow, he won’t be able to see much of anything in that lot. … God, he can be difficult when he wants to be. … He always was. … But I did hit the bull’s eye with Frédérique. It really does seem to bother him. …

Aurélien suddenly felt exhausted. He expected the heavy pain that sometimes irradiated from his shoulder to appear, but all he experienced was immense fatigue, bordering on nausea. He got up with difficulty and went over to the French doors. He saw Jules’s Jeep driving away and felt as though he was the last man on earth, in his oversized castle.

Though Fernande was busy preparing the truffle stuffing for the Christmas turkey, she chatted happily with Dominique. Among other things, she liked the young woman for the way she managed the household. Dominique had never tried to completely take over Fonteyne, always listening to Fernande’s advice. Warned by her mother, Dominique had been conscious, from the very beginning, that she’d joined a very important family, a place where traditions played a pivotal role. She’d been up to the task of being in charge of the house, without taking herself seriously. With her, everything was perfectly organized, verified, planned. The purchase list she’d handed Pauline one hour before was a model of precision. Aurélien was going to be satisfied with the Christmas meal, and Fernande knew how much he wanted everything to run smoothly, for customs to be observed closely.

As she added some cognac to the stuffing, Fernande said that Jules’s return was a blessing. Christmas without him would’ve been joyless. And snow would stop falling eventually, and there would be a thousand things to do in the vineyard, which only Jules could supervise. Even Lucas, Fernande added, had missed Jules’s presence at work. Dominique was listening, resigned to the fact that Alex wouldn’t be included in this speech. It was always the same; he didn’t have a defined place in Fonteyne. And yet, he’d done a fine job with the harvest at the Billots’, and Antoine owed his crop to him. Dominique had been under the impression that he’d enjoyed himself in Mazion and that, even though he was a Laverzac, he hadn’t been humiliated at all by taking care of white wine. Once again, Dominique began to hope that sooner rather than later, Alex would start to assert himself a bit.

They were cutting the truffles into strips when Jules and Alex stormed into the kitchen.

“We need some coffee,” Alex said. “We’re freezing!” And he put his icy hands on his wife’s neck.

Dominique laughed and teetered away from him. Then she poured them some coffee.

The two men were wearing heavy coats and hats but, though they were dressed the same, they didn’t look anything alike.

Jules leaned above the stove and whispered, very seriously, “This smells amazing. … Fernande, you’re outdoing yourself!”

“You stop that,” the old lady said, blushing. “You say that because you must’ve eaten badly these past few weeks.”

“The Brits can’t cook,” Jules said, “but they sure can drink.”

He turned to Alexandre and said, “Why did you guys wait for me? We’re going to have to break the earth into clumps in that stupid lot.”

“Because nothing gets done without you around here, my friend. Nothing at all. …”

There was a trace of hostility in Alex’s voice, and Jules immediately changed the topic.

“I’m going to get my horse out of the field and into the stable. He gets cold out there after a while.”

Alex raised his shoulders with indifference. Like everybody else in the house, he’d looked forward to Jules’s return, but now his presence made him feel a bit uneasy.

“Did you see the shape of the stone fences on the hillside? If Aurélien goes down there and sees that, he’s going to have a fit…”

Alex gave him a smile of resignation and said, “Omnipresent, as always. … Barely back and already on all fronts. …”

Jules was going to reply, but Clothilde charged into the kitchen. Panic-stricken, she said that Aurélien needed to see his sons immediately.

They left the kitchen under Dominique’s sardonic eye. “Don Corleone has called for his men,” she muttered.

When Jules and Alex arrived in the office, Aurélien was pacing.

“Finally!” he said. “How many breakfasts do you guys eat? Lucas, go back down there right now. There’s a problem, and one hell of a big one!”

Addressing only Jules, he added, “Go with him! Two of the barrels are leaking. We’ll settle our scores later.”

Jules asked for no explanation and ran out of the room. Aurélien took his anger out on Alexandre.

“Jules is the one making sure everything’s running smoothly around here, right? I’d better not find out that this was negligence or he’s going to get an earful. I’m going to get dressed and check this out myself. As for you, I’m not going to even ask if you have any idea what’s going on.”

Alexandre opened his mouth, but no words came out. He left his father’s house and angrily put his coat and gloves back on. He made his way to the cellar, where Lucas and Jules were engaged in a heated conversation. Employees were already in the process of decanting the wine. Jules’s voice was bouncing off the cellar’s walls. Alex forgot about his gripes and felt completely supportive of his brother. He went over to him and grabbed his arm.

“The big boss is on his way,” he said. “And put something on. You’re crazy to be in here in just a shirt. You’re going to freeze to death.”

Jules jerked his arm free.

“Those barrels are brand-new,” he said. “There’s nothing I could’ve done. …”

“Fine,” Alex said. “But first, go get your coat.”

Jules was freezing and he reluctantly walked away. He came out of the cellar into the bitter December air and ran to the castle. Aurélien was waiting for him on the terrace.

“So, is it serious?”

“Not really, but the barrels are leaking. The guys are decanting right now, but I can’t say it’s a good thing.”

“And how old are those barrels?”

Surprised at the veiled accusation, Jules looked his father right in the eyes.

“They’re brand-new,” he said.

“You have the purchase bill?”

There was so much derision in Aurélien’s voice that Jules glared at him.

“The barrels are new, Aurélien.”

Then he added, calmly, “Let me go, I’m freezing. I can’t be held responsible for everything, from hail to cracking wood.”

The wind had risen and some ice was forming on the snow covering the steps.

“You said earlier that you wanted to settle our scores,” Jules said. “Why? We have scores to settle?”

Jules was shivering and Aurélien stepped aside to let him into the house, saying, “Get me that bill. It’s the supplier I’m accusing, not you.”

“The Marceau brothers? They’re going to laugh in your face.”

“Really? You think so?”

They were still glaring at each other. Jules shoved his hands in his pockets and Aurélien realized that his teeth were clattering.

“Go inside, you dope. You’re going to catch your death!”

“Be careful,” Jules said before walking inside. “It’s slippery.”

“If somebody doesn’t clear those stairs within an hour, there’s going to be hell to pay!” Aurélien shouted.

Louis-Marie and Robert had just finished the chess game that had kept them battling it out for hours. When Louis-Marie won, Robert toppled the board’s pieces with the back of his hand. In any event, he’d mostly thought about Pauline during the game, rather than coming up with a winning strategy. Ah, Pauline … Would he ever free himself from her? All she had to do was show up and he was mesmerized again, wanting only one thing, and that was to take her to bed. He was afraid this hell would never end. Louis-Marie probably suspected Robert’s passion, but as long as he believed that his wife was faithful …

“Can you stay until January first?” Louis-Marie asked.

Disturbed from his reverie, Robert shrugged.

“I’m not sure how I could get the hospital to swallow that,” he lied.

As long as Pauline was at Fonteyne, he’d find a way to stay.

“Try,” Louis-Marie insisted. “I’m sure you’re going to be able to get a few more days off. Better Fonteyne than some crowded mountain resort, right? And since Alex and Jules don’t have as much work as in the summertime, it’s much more relaxed around here.”

“You think? Do you see them just hanging out? Dad’s probably making them clean up the attic as we speak.”

The two chuckled, imagining the scene. They heard the children shouting outside and glanced out the window. On the lawn, the twins were trying to make a snowman for their cousin Esther.

“Who’s supposed to be watching them?”

“We are, I think. And we’re supposed to help the girls unload the car when they come back from shopping.”

Robert got up and lit a cigarette.

“Let’s go outside,” he said to Louis-Marie. “Do you feel like walking around Fonteyne a bit?”

He didn’t know how to rid himself from his obsession and he hated that he felt so weak, but he knew that nothing would make him snap out of his morose mood until Pauline was back from Bordeaux.

In the hallway, they ran into Jules as he was putting on his coat.

“You look upset,” Robert said. “What’s up?”

“Some crisis down in the cellar, and Aurélien is on the war path!”

Jules was smiling at them as he slipped on his gloves.

“After lunch, I’m going to cut down the tree I spotted this morning. You guys coming with me?”

They went out to the terrace, shoving and pushing each other like kids, happy to be together.

Annoyed, Pauline started the Mercedes’ engine.

“How long are we going to have to wait for that nitwit?”

They’d left Frédérique two hours earlier, saying they were going to pick her back up at noon in front of the toy store. Pauline turned up the collar of her fox coat and cranked the heat. She glanced at Laurène and thought she looked a bit different. More mature. Being loved by Jules had transformed her.

“Is Jules a good lover?” she asked with her usual candor.

Laurène blushed and Pauline burst out laughing.

“My question embarrasses you? I take it back, then. I was just curious. I always wondered how he was in bed. His gypsy side, you know, arrogant, animal. How is he when he’s naked?”

“He’s a very good lover,” Laurène finally said. “At least, to me he is.”

Through the fogged up windshield, Pauline saw Frédérique coming their way, staggering under the weight of shopping bags.

“Shouldn’t we give her a hand?” Laurène suggested.

“Certainly not! The trunk is open. …”

Pauline waited for Frédérique to get in the car, then she sped off.

“We’re going to be late for lunch,” she said, accelerating.