Chapter Fifteen
Aquick footfall, followed by a hush of displaced air, scuffed behind my back. The moment I whirled around, the LEDs in the ceiling went nuclear. With bruise-tinted spots floating across my vision, I staggered around, groping for something, anything, to hold on to but found only air. “Urgh.”
“Oh, pardon,” said a familiar voice. Equally familiar calloused hands grasped mine, and our fingers intertwined. “Mel, you’ve come. You’re still talking to me. That makes me glad.”
“It’s not as if I’ve said something.” I blinked, and pixel by pixel Yvon’s face emerged from the odd shapes imprinted on my retina.
The skin under his eyes appeared stained, and his tan had turned sallow as if bleached away during the afternoon. “ Excuse-moi for not being around, the dogs needed feeding.”
“Of course.”
We regarded each other. Well, he regarded me with an inscrutable look, while I drank in every aspect of his body, starting with the dark curls springing from his temples and the slender hands he kept balling into fists.
He was clean-shaven, wore neatly pressed chinos and a white shirt under a cardigan sporting the same shade of violet blue as his eyes. Like Raoul said the other day, I could have eaten Yvon with a spoon.
He did whiff a bit of dog, though. And no, I wouldn’t let myself be reeled in, not this time. “Yvon, what the—”
“Mel, I—”
As one, we fell quiet.
“After you,” he said.
“No, you’d better go first. Thank you for the flowers, by the way.”
He smiled. “You found them.”
“Well, yes, they were blocking my doorstep. Nice touch with the rose through the letterbox.”
A slight quirk of his lips. “A spur-of-the-moment decision when I got no response. I thought you didn’t want to talk to me anymore. To be quite honest, I don’t blame you.”
“I was having a bath with Louis.”
A twitch of one black brow. “Really?”
“Well, he wasn’t actually in it, just kept me company.”
A promenade on eggshells was nothing compared to our conversation. If this charade continued any longer, my head would explode.
I drew a deep breath instead. “Yvon, I need to tell you something.”
He stopped all pretense of studying the carpet. No antiques this time, only a slate-gray pile, as stark and masculine as the leather settees in the room. When I spoke, he gave me a veiled glance. “I feared you might want to do that.”
Be careful , my mother’s voice warned. You might ruin things completely .
Hah. How much worse could it get? Words rushed my tongue, and I let rip. “Right, I don’t know what your problem is, and it’s not my business. If you don’t want to share your secrets with me, because you don’t trust me or whatever, I’d understand. I shouldn’t have asked. Your hot and cold treatment is something else entirely. You can’t kiss me one moment and the next instant freak because of the same something, which you then don’t want to share. You know what? Today’s experience is right up there on my personal shit list. To then ditch me in the woods was—”
He raised his hands, palms out. “Inexcusable, I know. I didn’t ditch you, though. I drove to a nearby clearing and disturbed the wildlife with my ravings. Once I could trust myself not to act like an ass, I returned to the chateau. By then, you were gone.”
“I didn’t fancy hanging around on the faint hope you would grace me with your presence any time this century. Instead, I hiked to Lupiac and arranged transportation.”
A brief grin flitted across his face. “You would.”
“Why didn’t you answer your phone?”
“The battery was flat, and I forgot to bring my charger. How did you get back? I raced to Lupiac since I figured that’s where you would go. No one saw you.”
“A farmer took mercy on me once I emerged from the woods. A friend of hers drove me to Dax, and from there I took a removal van.”
“I see.” His expression was studiously neutral.
“No taxis available for love or money, but one company I rang mentioned a load of garden furniture going to Capbreton. They rang the deliverer, who I joined for the ride.”
Mirth chased away Yvon’s austere expression. “You’re the most amazing person I’ve met in my life, and there have been plenty. Let us sit. For what I have to tell you, you had better be sitting. If you believe me, of course.”
“Told you already, you don’t have to—”
“Ssh.” He took my hand, flipped it over, and kissed my wrist.
My defenses crumbled. He was right, I’d be better off seated. Since he was still standing, I didn’t.
Yvon shook his head. “I must. When prowling the clearing this afternoon, I realized I was being unfair. Either I keep my rotten temper under control, or I give you a chance to decide...how you feel about us. To make your choice, you need to know who I am. Since I’m incapable of the former, it’s got to be the latter.”
My brain took a moment to process this input. Once it did, a wave of pure bliss rolled through me, warm and soothing like bathwater. He was talking about us. Not him, not me. Us.
You’re doing it again , my inner voice said.
The voice was right, but here was Yvon, groveling. Raoul entreated me to give him a chance, and Raoul was a wise man. “I appreciate that.”
“Sit down, will you? And please hear me out. This might sound outrageous, it might sound fantastic, but it’s the simple truth. Please, don’t tell anybody. There are already enough morons around who hate me for being me. No need to add to the list.”
Gently, he pushed me into the reclining chair. He sat on the footstool, like a peasant waiting on a queen, every bit as tense. “You’ve asked me repeatedly who I am. You suspect I’m not who I pretend to be, and you are right. You also are wrong.”
“Yvon—”
He flapped his hands. “ Attends , I’ll explain in a minute. Unfortunately, we ran into these lunatics today, and they made things worse. I can’t keep up the pretense. Not if I want you to be more than a partner in Raoul’s quest. And I very much want you to be that. I shouldn’t, but I do.”
There was no reason for the blasted butterflies to rise in a rush, no reason at all.
“At first, I didn’t want to drag you in because of the other women in my past, you see?”
“I gathered as much. You were worried I would run the other way.”
“Some of my female acquaintances did, yes. Not your style. Two beautiful, generous, wonderful women were as courageous as you. They stayed with me throughout their lives. Not simultaneously, in case you wondered. In the end, I buried both.” His violet eyes searched for images only he could see. A sad smile played on his lips.
Ghostly fingers traced an icy trail along my spine. There might be a simple explanation for his odd remarks. The women died early. Unless he caused their death, there was nothing to fear. Apart from...
He looked at me. “Do you still want to know?”
“How old are you?”
A gentle nod, a subtle smile. “ Touché. You are a clever person, Mel Rosen.” In a fluid motion, Yvon rose from the footstool and stood at the windows, a shadow outlined in blue. When he spoke, he addressed his garden rather than me.
“I was born in 1771. My full name is Louis Constantin Yvon Charles Batz, Marquis d’Artagnan, Baron de Sainte Croix. Dumas’s famous musketeer was my great-great-grandfather.” He swung around and faced me, a challenge in his eyes. “Now, do you run?”
I hugged my knees, chilled to the marrow. Once the ghost theory went down the toilet, the only reasonable explanation wasn’t far from Yvon’s extraordinary statement. However, there was a big difference between nurturing outlandish ideas and having the truth flung in your face. Fair enough, I’d asked for it. Nor was he lying. It didn’t take paranormal skills to sense that. “I’m not the person to vamoose in a hurry. So, Monsieur le Marquis, how come you’re still around? At your age, you’re putting even Raoul to shame.”
“Ah, bah. Don’t use my title, please. It has been extinct for centuries.”
“But you must have sired children.”
He shook his head, regret flickering in his face. “Not me. In my condition...I can’t. My sister Aglaé did. It’s how the Batz family name survived since her son was allowed to take it.”
“What happened? How are you walking the Earth when you claim to be neither a ghost nor a vampire?”
“Oh, I’m simply still around.” He tossed me his challenging look, then his gaze slipped away. “Not good enough for you, Mel? Oh well. In this case, arrogance comes to mind. Or should I rather call it carelessness? Failing that, crass stupidity might fit the bill. My father died early, and I came to the title aged only eleven. That must have been part of the problem.”
“What problem? You mean, your position rose to your head?”
The corners of his mouth kicked up. “Oh yes. Back then, you would have—how does one say, hated my guts, yes?”
“Sounds about right. Your English is very idiomatic.”
“I’ve had plenty of time to practise, like when I was an agent for Queen Victoria. Never mind. One day, when I was eighteen, a band of Gitans arrived at the chateau. The weather was abysmal, a bit like today, but the whole summer had been wet and cold and the roads miserable. They begged for food and were allowed to camp on my lands and rest for a while. I was preparing for a hunting party, and the camp would have—I think cramped my style is what you would say. I gave them food, I gave them money, but I urged them on. One young woman got very upset. They had been chased away everywhere else before, and I think she...flipped.”
I kept my voice neutral. “That’s understandable.”
“Yes. I don’t blame her. Doesn’t stop me from wishing she didn’t curse me with immortality. The others tried to stop her, but it was too late. Et voila, c’est tout, c’est moi .” He pointed at himself then faced the windows again.
Wavelets rippled in the pool. Moonlight winked like a faulty lantern, spooked by the shadows of the clouds. Up there, the wind was still blowing, but here it had quietened.
All I wanted to do was to hug the poor man, to hold him tight, but I didn’t trust my legs yet. I wondered how someone cursed with immortality at eighteen would have matured to a man in the prime of his life. But I didn’t dare to ask the question.
Instead, I said, “Is this everything? What curse did she use?”
Yvon burst into laughter. “You make this madness sound so normal. Like a recipe, no?”
“Rubbish. What I meant is, in every fairy tale I’ve read there usually is an antidote for the curse. Think Beauty and the Beast, for example. Or Sleeping Beauty. Someone who loves the cursed person can release them.”
He shrugged. “ Désolé, doesn’t work in my case. I was loved, yet I’m hanging around, no? Antidotes are a different matter entirely. At first, the other Gitans weren’t too worried since they didn’t expect the curse to stick. She was young and such curses seem to be unreliable. Well, trust me to get hit by the one that works. But I knew straight away something was wrong. Things suddenly looked brighter, sharper, and there was an inner fizz I hadn’t experienced before. The travelers must have noticed it too. They were pretty shocked, I tell you.”
He sounded so matter of fact, but then he’d had centuries to cope with his fate. Speaking of fate... “Some people would part with their firstborn to avoid death.”
“Yes, well, I was eighteen. At that age, you think you’re pretty much immortal, anyway. And the woman didn’t mean to do me a favor. I wanted the bane gone and pressed her to fix it. Urged by the leader of their clan, she relented and explained how to lift the curse. According to them, I’d been eating with a golden spoon from golden plates, and my privileged existence tainted my manners. Therefore, a golden spoon shall set me free. Or words to that effect. They would return in a year, and if I had improved my evil ways and still wanted the curse gone, she would lift it.”
This shouldn’t make me laugh, but I had a hard time suppressing a snort. “Ah. Any particular spoon?”
“Yes. This is where it gets complicated. I’m not even sure whether she invented the tale to get rid of me. She seemed thunderstruck by her spectacular success.” He curled his fingers to mimic air quotes.
“Hmm, I must admit I wondered.”
“By the time the tragedy unfolded, the revolution had started, and the peasants were running amok. I shrugged everything off since our part of the country remained quiet for a while. Stupid of me. Only three months after my run-in with the travelers, the mob arrived at Castelmore. They shot me and left me for dead. Well, normally, if you are shot through the heart, you are dead. Only I wasn’t. Imagine my dismay when I received this ultimate confirmation the curse was real.”
I shifted in my chair. My mouth had turned dry, forcing me to swallow. “What about your family?”
Yvon prowled the window front like a restless cat. “My mother and sister escaped at the last moment, accompanied by two loyal servants. I stayed behind, to buy them time. Afterward, when I came to my senses again, I ran into the same woods that sheltered me today. What should have been a mortal wound didn’t take a day until it vanished.”
Delivered in a flat tone, what must have come as a total shock to him took on a chilling normalcy. “Nobody recognized you?” I asked incredulous.
“Oh, I fled the area. You see, I didn’t want to be shot again. It’s a painful experience. However, when it happened the next few times, the bullets bounced off my chest. I was also poisoned, and once I drowned. Raoul, the lucky bastard, only died once.” He pulled a face. “I think the drowning was worse than the shooting. I learned how to swim afterward, to avoid a repeat performance. The poisoning wasn’t too bad and over quickly. If there’s a choice, I’d always take poison.”
Nausea flooded my stomach. “Good heavens, Yvon...I’m surprised you didn’t go barking mad.”
He tossed me a lopsided grin. “Woof, woof. The human mind can be amazingly flexible. One can get used to almost anything if one has to.”
Would I, could I have coped? Hopefully, I would never find out. Another horror he hadn’t even mentioned yet. “What about the guillotine?”
“They didn’t catch me. If they had, I suspect the blade would’ve stuck or bounced off my neck or something similarly embarrassing. You’re not wrong, though. Violent ways of dying, like fires or explosions worry me. A lot. I wouldn’t want to experience those lest I survive and end up mangled. Fortunately, I never needed to.”
In my mind, a charred figure limped away from a bombsite.
“Anyway, this wasn’t what I wanted to tell you. I searched for the travelers. It took me a while to find that particular band of Gitans . When I did, the woman who placed the curse on me had died.”
Another icy trail followed the curve of my spine. “What happened?”
With his fingers, Yvon drummed a solo on the tabletop. “I think the travelers were embarrassed about the whole affair. Anyway, it made them more helpful than they might otherwise have been. When I mentioned the bit with the spoon, they drew a picture for me. It appears that a few weeks before they arrived at Castelmore, they had passed another chateau under siege. The woman who saddled me with immortality took a fancy to the golden spoons the looters were fighting over.”
A severe case of a fairy tale gone mad? “Come on, you believed their story? It sounds beyond idiotic. They must have been making things up as they went along.”
“Yes, well, I wondered. However, I’m not convinced. I’ll tell you why. That bit was explained to me by another band of travelers. By cursing me, the woman created a connection between the golden spoons she had seen and myself. It’s there because of her.”
“To be honest the whole tale sounds rather wild, but okay. Anyway, one of these spoons found its way into the Legrand treasure, correct?” I pressed.
“It was the only one I could ever trace, yes.”
My legs no longer trembling, I rose from my chair. But I kept my distance. “What are you supposed to do with it if you find it?”
“Hah, here’s the next problem. I have no clue. None of the Gitans I asked knew. In the end, they didn’t want to talk to me anymore. They felt guilty for what the woman did and made sure to avoid me. To the best of my knowledge, theoretically, these spoons can break the spell. One is enough. Only don’t ask me how. I’ve also got no idea what happens if I ever figure it out. That’s assuming I ever get my hands on the stupid thing. I suspect, however, my demise might be sudden and drastic.”
All thoughts drained from my mind, apart from one and I hugged it close. Even if Raoul relinquished the treasure and handed Yvon his golden spoon, nothing would happen. He didn’t know what to do, so he would remain immortal.
More thoughts rushed back in, and they were a lot less pleasant.
There could be no future for him and me since I would age, wither, and die while he would live on,
He echoed my inner argument when he said, “I couldn’t cope with having to bury you as well. It would be too much. Losing Ishani and Maria was even more painful than drowning.”
Caught between a laugh and a good cry, I chose the former. Too many tears had been shed already. “You are barking mad. There’s no other explanation for your sangfroid . Allow me one more question. How come you don’t look like an eighteen-year-old?”
He clapped slowly. “Brava, very observant. Whenever I survived a death experience, I aged. In the beginning, the years were slapped on with an alarming rapidity. When it happened for the first time, I aged straight into my mid-twenties. Afterward, things slowed considerably. The last time, I noticed no big difference. I used to stay away from the limelight whenever I could, so people wouldn’t notice I don’t age. With cameras in everybody’s pockets, it has become a lot more difficult to fly under the radar. My latest profession doesn’t help, true, but then I always wanted to be a chef.”
“Interesting career choice for a nobleman.” I raised an insouciant eyebrow.
“Cook was a great person. I spent hours in her kitchen, and she taught me to enjoy good food.” His gaze grew distant once more. “She was one of the two servants who accompanied Maman and my sister. These days, one would call her a role model, no?”
A final question burned on my tongue. I didn’t want to ask it, but I had to know. “Should the spoon be found, what would you do about your, uh...condition?”
He groaned. “To be honest, I don’t know. Sometimes my quest for the spoon was the most important thing in my life. That happened a lot when things weren’t going so well for me, but there have been moments when life felt less like a curse and more like a gift. Recently, life has been good. Even more recently, it has been fantastic, but rather fraught.” He grinned.
“Because you’re doing what you always wanted to do.” My heart beat faster since the inner chill had melted away.
“That as well.” He jumped up from his footstool and pushed aside the nearest glass door. Fresh evening air smelling of the ocean flowed into the parlor. “Even morons like the modern Sansculottes you met today aren’t wrong.”
“The what?”
“In a nutshell, they want to achieve a state of absolute equality. Nobody must be any different from anybody else. Nobody must have more or less than anybody else. I’ve become an embodiment of the things they abhor. I have something nobody else has, eternal life, hence I’m an abomination. Perhaps, the travelers intended this from the start, wanted me to show responsibility, act like the nobleman I was supposed to have been, and end my own life.”
That was quite enough. In many ways a modern man, the charming loonie still operated on a cavalier code of conduct that went out of fashion with the crinolines.
Not on my watch.
I rose from the recliner, weaved my way around the furniture, and stood next to him. “You can’t know for sure. You’re putting words into somebody else’s mouth again. This whole curse is nothing but one huge, big fiasco.”
He tilted his head and winked. “So am I.”
“You can’t be serious. Look, I understand your need to find this golden spoon to claw back control. I would do the same. This, of course, is assuming the travelers weren’t telling fibs back then. Once you hold the spoon in your hands, you can have another word with the resident Gitans . I can’t see how they would deny you such simple courtesy.”
Yvon raised his arms to the ceiling only to drop them again. “Yes, but they lost a lot of their lore. That’s exactly my problem in a nutshell. They also don’t want me around. Like Arbadonaro, for example.”
To my mind, Arbadonaro had a pretty good grip on his lore. “You must be anathema to them, a reminder of what can happen if one doesn’t watch one’s cursing. Nor is the poor woman entirely to blame. Hunting guests or not, to chase them away when you could have sheltered them wasn’t nice.”
Yvon slumped. “I know.”
I was no better than he had been. I gave his shoulder the gentlest of pats. “Sorry, I’m judging you with modern morals. That’s not PC either.”
Yvon waggled a finger. “Oh, but I shouldn’t have done what I did. The times were different, yes, but it doesn’t sanction my actions. By the way, Cook gave me a massive scolding afterward.”
She must have been an amazing person. But so was he. “Aren’t you being rather hard on yourself? You gave them food and money, right? I bet others would have done a lot less.”
“Our king and queen and their whole posse didn’t waste any compassion for their subjects’ suffering and their indifference sparked the revolution.”
“There you go. The head honchos, in your case Louis the Sixteenth, Marie-Antoinette, and the whole top-shelf nobility, blew the whole thing. The shop floor was up in arms, but guess who gets the blame? Middle management. Only in your case, it’s a curse. Now, hey, why are you laughing?”