The Vampire's Angel (37 page)

“Only because of the drunken priests,” she shot back.

“Fine. We know the opinion of the nuns, but what might the military think?”

Michel frowned. “I find it confusing. Like Catherine, I’m numb.”

Poor Michel, Catherine thought. Even in the midst of play he answered seriously and smiled weakly at Xavier.

“Now you, Anne, what do you think?” Xavier asked.

“You know how little I care for politics. It doesn’t much matter to me. Won’t change my life, either way.”

“But does the violence lend itself to magic?”

“You’re something else, abbé. What’d you call him, Maria? Silly? That’s it. Just a silly little boy running away from the revolution.”

“Hmm,” Xavier put his elbow on the table and rested his head in his hand. “Let me guess. The four of you have turned this into a conspiracy against me. But I’ve called your bluff. You’re the silly little beasts for thinking that you could trick me, because I guessed from the beginning that there was no other reason for all of us to be gathered for dinner. So I fooled you and drank beforehand.” Xavier stood, pushing his chair back, and laughed. “Henceforth, you may call me the drunken abbé. I’ll transform the Catholic Church into a place for revelry.”

“But what will the bishops say?” Catherine egged him on.

“Fie on the bishops.”

“And the pope?” Maria asked.

“Bah. His edicts mean nothing to me.”

“What are you going to change now that you took control?” Anne asked.

“Let me see. We’ll get rid of all Catholic restrictions and laws. The only rule will be to love each other. Nothing else needed. Of course, we’ll leave secular laws to the government, whatever that may be.”

“Surely you’ll maintain morality?” Catherine asked.

“Only in the context of love.”

“What kind of love?” Maria asked.

“Any kind. All love. Even the kind of love I have with Thomas.” The moment he spoke that name Xavier’s eyes widened. Even drunk, he realized that he had revealed his secret. Catherine noted that he had put his love for Thomas in the present tense. Paralyzed, wanting to encourage him but not frighten him away, no one said a word.

After a long silence, Anne finally spoke with her blunt honesty.

“Well, there’s my sheepish friend letting out the skeletons because of the fire water.” She laughed uproariously. “Now, abbé, we’ll ignore it for you, because I’m sure you didn’t mean to reveal that little secret. But I’m glad to see you’re so comfortable with us.”

And so the conversation moved along after Anne stepped in. Xavier concluded his reform of the church, dinner ended, and everyone went their separate ways.

On her way out, however, Anne had pointed to a small statute that Marcel had recently sent to Catherine. “Why is that in here?” she asked.

“A gift from Marcel, from America.”

“Get it out of this house. It’s watching you.”

Catherine hardly wanted a confrontation after the night had done so much for Xavier. She simply ignored the comment and thanked Anne for coming, though Anne glared at the statue until Catherine closed the door.

Catherine finished the night by tucking Xavier into bed as if he were again five, when it had been her duty to act as his mother, and she give him one last bit of comfort before he drifted to sleep.

“You know it’s not a problem, don’t you?” she asked as she stroked his hair.

“What?”

“Loving someone, no matter what other people think.”

“Oh, that.”

“I love Marcel though none of you approve. I go with my heart.”

“But what’s influencing your heart?” Xavier slurred.

“Love.”

“Oh. Not something else?” She frowned. “What are you implying?” “Nothing. You just mentioned love.” “Your love.” “I have lots of it.” “I know. I meant, who you really love. You said it tonight, remember? I just want to make sure that you know everyone in that room understood. You could come to any of us for help if you wanted.” “Maybe some time that’s what I’ll do. But I don’t know if I can stand another beating for love.”

With that he passed out. Catherine shook him to no avail. He was sound asleep, so she kissed him on the forehead and left. What had he meant? Was his reference to a beating a metaphor? Catherine chased the thought from her mind quickly. It was ludicrous to think that the man who loved Xavier would do such a thing to him, even if he was a vampire.

9 August 1792

CATHERINE, ALONE IN her office, gazed at the pile of paperwork in front of her and noticed a new letter with Michel’s seal. She wondered if he had sent another explanation that the government had changed hands again, this time to the artisan class, perhaps. But she had already heard and hardly cared any more. Each change was temporary and not worth her effort. She worried a lot more about Xavier and keeping people safe in her salon. She broke the seal and read the letter:

Catherine,

I apologize for canceling our engagement again this evening. I know that you are worried about Xavier, and I intend to come as soon as possible to assist you. But I cannot leave the edge of Paris right now as things have worsened. My regiment is still aligned too closely with Louis. Today, they imprisoned the royal family. Louis has seemingly lost all authority, and they are hunting down his regiments. I am transforming mine as we speak, to serve the people and so that my men are protected, but it will take time. I apologize again. Your loving brother, Michel

Poor Michel. He still fretted after their reconciliation, always worried that he would offend her. He had unburdened himself of his responsibility as head of the family but replaced it with this incessant anxiety that he would anger her.

Actually intrigued that they had imprisoned the entire royal family, Catherine delayed plans to do paperwork and went to tell Xavier. She found him in the chapel with the communion wine, alone in front of the altar and praying. Catherine paused to watch. He was so complex, with his denouncing of the Catholic Church but continued identity as a priest, with his shunning of traditional religion and now constant drunkenness. But she often found him praying when he was alone.

Catherine ruffled her skirt to alert him. Without leaving the altar and still kneeling, he bent backward and looked at her upside-down. He smiled and twisted back into position, gained his feet, and lurched toward her, falling completely on his face, laughing as he did so.

“The last time I saw you prone on a sanctuary floor they ordained you.”

“What brings you to the house of the Lord?” he asked, laughing even harder at what she had said.

“This Lord’s house is in my home, and I came to see my brother. But I see only a drunken priest.”

Xavier laughed again. “But alas, fair lady, your brother is a drunken priest.”

“Would he like to hear some news from Michel?”

Xavier jumped off the ground and raced to her. He hugged her and spun her around. “What? What?”

“They have imprisoned Louis.”

“Michel has imprisoned Louis?”

“The Insurrectionist Commune.”

“What’s that?”

“The new government.”

“How boring. Wine and politics just don’t mix. So, where did they put Louis?”

“I’m not sure.”

As they conversed, he was his usual drunken self at first, silly and laughing, which strangely comforted Catherine. But slowly he reminded her why she had sent for Michel as he became morose. The alcohol depressed him and he was no longer able to keep up the charade. Two days ago she had finally confronted him and demanded that he talk about Thomas. He had burst into tears for hours, but he still refused to say a word about it.

10 August 1792 Morning

CATHERINE WENT IMMEDIATELY to the library when the servants informed her that Michel had arrived. She had responded to his note about Louis’s imprisonment by telling him that she understood why he had had to cancel coming to the house yesterday, but he had promised to come today.

“Michel.” Catherine hugged him tightly as she greeted him and ushered them both to seats. He appeared tired, and his clothes were filthy.

“I came as soon as I secured my regiment. We’re hiding in Paris. I distanced us entirely from Louis. Only one of my men refused to abandon the monarchy, but he left peacefully.”

“Are you safe? You look dreadful.”

“Speaking of not looking well, you look worn yourself.”

“I fell asleep at my desk.”

“It’s because Jérémie left, isn’t it?”

“Partially.” She toyed with her skirts. Jérémie still wrote to her and handled their foreign affairs, but Catherine missed him terribly. Their friendship, more than anything, made her ache for his company. However, she was not about to mourn the loss of a man in front of Michel.

“Do you need help here?” Michel asked.

“I can take care of things.”

“I know you can.” He patted her hand. “I’m sure that Jérémie will return eventually.”

“I’m not so sure. His letters are distant, as if he’ll never set foot again in France. Besides, what would bring him back to this miserable revolution?”

Michel smiled. “He has interests here. I’m sworn to secrecy, but I’m sure that he’ll be back. Have you asked Xavier to help?”

Catherine roared with laughter, prompting Michel to grin as well. “I know he’s a drunk.”

“I’ve grown accustomed to his being drunk all the time.” Catherine cast her eyes to the ground. “But he’s not happy any more. His moods are dark, and he seldom jokes or even smiles. He sits in dim rooms now, still intoxicated, and cynically condemns everything. We need to confront him, but I’m afraid to do it alone. Not of him, but afraid he won’t listen. Maybe he’ll listen to both of us.”

“You’ve already tried?” Michel asked.

“Yes, a couple of times. But he won’t listen to anyone. He’s too depressed.”

Michel looked out the window, then turned to Catherine and put his hand on her shoulder.

“I didn’t tell you this, though I thought it peculiar. I assumed that it would pass. He came to me, on the front a few nights ago, and said that he sneaked from the house so that you wouldn’t be concerned. He was drunk and falling all over the place. I had to prop him against the wall. He was crying and talking about Thomas, but it was completely incoherent. Then he fell to his knees in front of me. He said that he had to forget and the only way was to deliver himself to God. He wanted me to take him to Rome, to flee with him to Rome, so that he could serve the pope.”

Catherine stared at him. “He hates the pope.”

“That’s what I said to him. Without batting an eye, he smirked and said that yes, he disliked the papacy but that he needed punishment for what he’d done and he could think of nothing worse than working directly for his eminence.”

“And he expected you to travel to Italy?”

“Yes. He said something about my not being endangered and protecting him. I wish I could remember more. It was confusing. I concentrated on calming him down and finally convinced him to allow two of my men to get him home. Xavier refuses to talk about it, but does this have anything to do with Thomas? I’ve seen other men in the army who care deeply for one another. Is that what this is about?”

“He’s accidentally admitted it to both of us, then. I wish I knew what kept him from acting. He always says something about religion and obligation. Whatever it is, I need your help, I fear—” Catherine choked on the words. “I’m afraid that he’ll harm himself.”

Michel’s eyes filled with tears.

“I watch him all the time now,” Catherine continued as she wiped her own tears. “I never leave him alone. If I’m not with him, then Anne or Maria is. He stays contentedly with Anne, but he and Maria argue constantly. She wants him to just stop drinking. And she pronounces that conservative theology to anyone who’ll listen. It only makes things worse for Xavier. It’s all wearing on me, Michel. I hate to say it because I’d do anything for Xavier, but he takes so much time. What could’ve led him to this?”

“I don’t know.”

“It’s just so unlike him. I’m lost. And depressed, too.”

“I, as well. Let’s go see him.”

Michel barged into Xavier’s room without knocking to find Maria reading on the bed. She quietly left when Catherine and Michel arrived.

“I’ll be outside,” she told them and closed the door.

Xavier was sitting on the ledge and staring out the window. His eyes were red, and dark circles marred his skin beneath them. He had a bottle of wine, having shunned the decorum of using a glass some time ago. He did not look at them when they entered, but he meekly said hello in response to their greetings.

“Xavier,” Michel began, “I haven’t much time. Catherine and I are worried, deeply concerned, more than ever before. This goes beyond our parental instincts.” Michel walked over and forced Xavier off the sill and into a chair so that he faced them, though Xavier refused to look into their eyes. “Please let us do something.”

“Yes, let us help you,” Catherine said.

Xavier’s eyes filled with tears and he took another drink from the bottle.

“Xavier, what is it?” Michel asked.

“I think that I’d like to visit New Orleans one day,” Xavier said. “To go to that part of the world would be quite an experience. Perhaps we could venture together.”

“What are you talking about?” Catherine asked curtly. “Will you stop these games?”

“‘Tis not a game. I’ve wanted to see New Orleans for a long time. Since I first heard about it. It sounds so different. So fascinating. I want to see plantations. I want to see the Africans. I want to judge for myself whether or not they’re treated well. I’ve heard vivid descriptions of this place and want to see it with my own eyes.”

“For God’s sake—” Catherine stopped.

“Xavier,” Michel said, “if that’s what you want to talk about, fine, but why?”

“A friend.” Xavier bit his lower lip and cried. It broke Catherine’s heart when she realized that Xavier was reaching out to them.

“What friend?” Michel asked.

“Thomas, of course. He’s been to New Orleans and has business interests there. He promised to take me there. But that would require our still being friends, wouldn’t it? So I need new companions for my trip. Because he’s gone and nothing can be done. You know, you always saw me as so pure and innocent. I’m so far from that. The truth is much more complex. These robes, the church, religion, they’re all a confusion and full of contradictions in my mind. I love God. I do. I want to serve Him and His people. At least I try. But there are powerful personal feelings that have haunted me since an early age. I almost left the church because these urges take over, but my spiritual confusion sabotaged this impulse to leave because I instantly felt like a selfish traitor. I was going to New Orleans, and maybe other places. I was going to sin because my heart longed for it. Now I’m back to the church but the person I love abandoned me. It’s ironic, yes?” He wiped at his eyes.