Chapter Summary: A dinner party at Chagny and a family history revealed.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Dinner had begun quietly over small bowls of aromatic chicken soup upon which the cook floated delicate baby watercress. The warm gold of the broth reflected the warm glow from the overhead chandelier and filled those who partook with their own golden warmth. They spoke softly around their food, beginning to share the small talk of every dinner party. Empty bowls were removed by the silent, living shadows who easily moved about the room, between the people, replacing the warmth of the soup with the earthiness of an herbal salad whose greens had been plucked that very morning. The tangy bite left in the mouth by the herbs spiced up the conversation, drawing out a bit of the lives kept carefully guarded behind stone walls. As they waited for the main course to arrive from the kitchen, the silent shadows moved about the table pouring warm red wine into crystal goblets - save for one. The young woman had placed her hand over her goblet, refusing the red wine. She had politely sipped at the white wine offered with the soup and salad and now she insisted she only wished for water. Her actions caused the man seated beside her to gaze upon her with a puzzled concern that quickly fled in the light of her warm smile and calm reassurance. The moment quickly came and went barely noticed by any of the others around the table except for the woman who sat opposite her. She had noticed and decided to keep her own counsel for there would be time enough to speak later.

Any further concerns or thoughts were chased away by the sight of the two large crocks being brought into the room. They were carefully placed on either side of the floral arrangement in the center of the table and their lids removed, the steam rising from the food inside filling the room with an aroma that would have made an angel cry. Inside each crock was a plump chicken surrounded by fresh peas and tiny heads of lettuce, a light, buttery sauce with flecks of fresh herbs finishing the dish. The ooh's and ah's from those seated around the table were quickly replaced by the sound of cutlery against china as short work was made of the chicken and vegetables. Dinner conversation grew around the rich simplicity of a favorite country recipe. They spoke of the latest gossip from both city and country with names from each place being recognized, pondered upon and laughed over. The laughter eventually died down as empty plates were removed and the table was prepared for dessert.

"Dessert?" Raoul wondered. "I do not think I could eat another bite."

Christine looked at her husband in amazement. "I do not think I have ever before heard those words pass your lips," she said.

"At least that has not changed," Xavier said with a chuckle.

"You should have seen him as a child," Monique added. "Raoul had such a sweet tooth! He was always begging us for his favorite treats even as his face and hands were already smudged with chocolate from all those he had already eaten."

"Ha!" Henri laughed and raised his glass in his cousin's direction. "I always knew there was a sneaky little boy in you." He turned to wink at Didier. "Oh the stories I could tell!"

Raoul looked pained. "Please do not!" he pleaded.

"Oh no, Henri," Philippe insisted, playfully glaring at his younger brother. "Pray, do tell, for I fear my wretched sibling has us all deceived.

Henri cleared his throat. "Well," he began, "there was this one time ..." His words were cut short by the opening of the door as dessert was brought into the room.

The tart made from dried fruit and a smooth custard was placed in front of the man seated at the head of the table. Philippe cut it into eight equal slices and the silent shadow who stood at his elbow began to serve the simple dessert to the rest of those seated about the table.

Raoul was feeling a bit uncomfortable under his cousin's twinkling gaze, dreading the secret words that might escape from Henri's lips when the conversation resumed. He was wracking his brain trying to remember something he might safely say in return when he felt a gentle touch on his knee. Raoul turned to see his wife with her head down, a tiny smile on her face. Raoul adjusted the napkin that rested across his lap, his hand brushing against Christine's as he did so, a silent thank you, a brief 'I love you' in the touch. He was gratified to see the color rise in his wife's cheeks.

Christine raised her eyes and looked at Henri. "Please do not tell any stories about my husband in front of everyone." She twinkled at him. "At least not until you share them with me first." She turned to smile at Raoul. "I do believe I have been most grievously deceived."

Henri raised his wine glass to her. "I always honor the request of a lady," he said.

Christine could sense the silent sigh coming from her husband and she quickly winked at him.

"I am to be disappointed - yet again - in my quest to discover my young brother's faults," Philippe said, a smile on his face, as he took a bite of his tart, winking at Raoul

"But where does that leave me? I am to be disappointed as well?" Didier wondered. He caught Christine's gaze and held it. "What task will the fair Christine lay before my feet?"

There was something about which Christine was curious. "What of this mysterious family history I keep hearing about?" She looked around the table, eyes wide and innocent. "I should dearly like to know more than a snippet or two." She was surprised at the look that passed between Philippe and Xavier, the downcast eyes of Monique and the feeling of discomfort that began to emanate from her husband. She was not surprised by the smirks exchanged by Henri and Didier behind Monique's back; those two made her skin crawl.

Any and all thoughts of the two youngest men seated at the table were chased away by the raucous laughter that suddenly came from Philippe and Xavier.

"Oh God," Xavier choked. "Where shall we begin?"

"Who shall begin?" Philippe asked back.

"Once upon a time," Arthur quietly began, "there were two knights in shining armor ..."

Philippe raised his napkin to his lips as he choked and coughed. He looked down the table at Arthur who was sitting perfectly straight, a sober look on his face. Philippe struggled to compose himself and lost the fight, breaking into laughter again.

Arthur shook his head in disgust and turned to look at Xavier who was also losing his battle with his laughter. His glance kept going back and forth between the two men, his lips beginning to twitch and suddenly Arthur fell victim to the same merriment.

"I do not understand," Christine said as she turned to her husband who was also beginning to convulse with laughter. She heard a very audible sigh from across the table and turned her attention to Monique.

"And they think we are the brainless sex," Monique told Christine. Monique placed her dessert fork on her plate, lifted her napkin to wipe at the corners of her mouth, placing it back in her lap and composing herself. "You see, my dear, this story truly did begin with two knights." She frowned at her husband and Philippe. "Although - considering the behavior of our dinner companions - I highly doubt those two redoubtable men wore shining armor."

Xavier inhaled through his nose, composing himself, as he looked across the table at his wife. "You wound me, my dear." He took a sip from his wine glass.

"And me!" Philippe protested.

Monique just stared blankly at her husband and his best friend.

As the laughter around the table died down, Xavier lightly touched Christine's hand. "This is how it began, my dear," he started. "Several centuries ago," he looked at Philippe. "In the fifteen hundred's, yes?"

Philippe nodded. "Yes," he replied and smiled at Christine as she turned to look at him. "During those years France and Austria were fighting over some Italian territories that they both claimed. It was yet another of those impossibly convoluted political games whereby whoever held the land, held the power. And two of our esteemed ancestors fought valiantly for the French king."

Henri and Didier waved their knives at each other, trying and failing to retain any sense of sobriety.

Xavier chose to ignore them as he picked up the tale. "These two men fought so valiantly and so well that the king rewarded them with land that belonged to the crown; this land where we are now. This valley was divided between the two of them - sight unseen, I must add - and when they arrived it became obvious that my ancestor did not get the best of the bargain. We received the rockier, more shaded part of the valley whereas Philippe's ancestor received the sunnier, more easily cultivated side. The first skirmish in the long history of our families went to the Chagny's." He raised his wine glass in Philippe's direction. "And the opportunity to lay claim to the naming rights."

Christine turned her attention to Philippe who had also raised his glass in salute. "Surely that was not the sole cause of the animosity?"

"No, no, no" Philippe assured her, "there is much more to be told. Our two ancestors settled down to truly make this valley what it is today. They worked together - at first - any hurt feelings between them left behind by the task before them. They both married and raised families and when it came time for the next generation to marry that is when trouble once again raised her ugly head in the form of jealousy."

"I believe my ancestor won that battle," Xavier said.

"Yes," Philippe agreed, "the lovely Elena was wedded to your ancestor and the tensions between our families began to grow. There were always the little feuds and disagreements about land boundaries and water rights - even the all too human battles over affairs of the heart. Then came the Religious Wars between the Catholics and the Huguenots and my ancestor was part of the circle around the future Henry the Fourth. When Henry finally succeeded to the throne and the Edict of Nantes was declared, my ancestor became the first Comte de Chagny."

Xavier shook his head and sighed. "That was a cruel blow - indeed - for our family. We, too, had been close to Henry but he would only grant one title for this region. So my family bravely soldiered on, being loyal to king and country." He winked at Philippe. "And our newly titled neighbors." He sighed. "It was not always easy."

"For any of us," Philippe continued. "Our ancestors were always properly polite to each other but they made sure that the family history was passed down." He shook his head. "Every little detail, every snub, every petty disagreement, everything that could be considered an insult was drilled into each child's head. In such a way the animosity was sure to be remembered and felt."

Christine frowned. "That is a horrid way to raise a child!"

Monique nodded at her. "I completely agree, my dear." She shook her head. "Silly men."

"I do not know," Didier replied. "I rather like the idea of being able to cross swords with my enemy."

"It is not as romantic as it sounds," Raoul said softly, turning to smile at his wife as Christine rubbed the back of his arm.

"And it was another romantic entanglement that was the next insult," Xavier went on, looking at Henri. "Only this time it was your family who won."

"It is quite tragic that I did not seem to inherit my family's romantic abilities," Henri replied while looking at Christine.

"But if it had not been for this romantic conquest, your side of the family would never have existed," Philippe told him. "Shortly before the English Restoration - while the English Court was here in France - the youngest de Chagny brother at the time - Antoine - caught the eye of Lady Olivia Morton. Lady Olivia was a favorite of the soon-to-be Charles II. Antoine became Anthony and went to England with a new bride named Olivia."

Xavier sighed and downed the last of the red wine that sparkled in his crystal goblet. "That was an insult my family was not going to let pass." He looked at Philippe. "If I remember correctly, that is when our families became completely estranged." Philippe nodded and Xavier continued their story. "From that point forward any necessary communications between our families were carried out through formal political channels. That does not mean that there were still not the small insults and pettiness that marked this ridiculous feud from the beginning. It went on as such - snubs at court, bickerings at home - for almost another hundred years." Xavier's voice trailed off and his eyes dropped.

His actions caught everyone's attention, even Henri and Didier ceased their softly spoken comments.

"What happened?" Christine breathed.

"This is very hard for me to say," Philippe began as he looked at Xavier. "And I want to apologize before I begin."

"No need," Xavier assured him, "but I thank you."

"A little over a century ago, Paris was quite the glittering capital and the place to be for those with the money and background to enjoy it. Our families were no different and the two heirs at the time - Charles de la Censiere and Maxime de Chagny - were well known about the gaming tables. They played very recklessly considering their positions ..."

Xavier interrupted him. "But that is how it was back then so we cannot fault them. If you were young and privileged, you only thought of yourself and what pleasured you. It seems Charles and Maxime were pleasured by winning and losing vast amounts of money." Xavier smiled across at his wife as she shook her head. "Not even their parents could rein in their reckless ways. It all culminated one evening when the two young men faced each other across a gaming table. Charles was determined to bring Maxime down in front of all their peers and played more recklessly than was his wont."

"He lost his money?" Christine wondered.

"And his life," Didier told her.

"What?" Christine was taken aback.

Raoul laid a gentle hand over his wife's. "The amount of money that Charles lost that night was exceedingly considerable. He felt he could not go home in disgrace and chose to walk the darker streets of Paris alone and unarmed. Charles was accosted and after taking what jewelry he had on his person, the people who robbed him shot him once in the head. Charles was killed instantly. It was said that he took such actions on purpose so that he would not have to face his family."

"That poor man!" Christine exclaimed. "And over money? That does not make any sense. If I had been his mother, I would have understood and welcomed him home."

"That is where men and women differ," Monique told her. "Women will always see the possibilities while men can only see the consequences."

Philippe smiled at Monique. "You always have been the voice of reason."

Monique smiled at him and then at her husband. "It has not always been easy."

"And we thank you for it," Xavier replied, frowning slightly at Henri and Didier. "I should be incredibly displeased were Philippe and I to slip back into our rather misspent youth." He turned to Christine and continued the family history. "After Charles died, the estrangement between our families became complete. Any and all ties - including those done through political channels - were completely severed. Every action, every word from that point forward became a deadly insult that would never be forgotten."

"The last insult was when our father married our mother," Philippe said as he caught his younger brother's eye. "Xavier's father was also interested in her but Maman chose our sire and that was to be the end of it." Philippe turned his attention to Xavier. "Until that day at school when I saw a fellow student being bullied by several older boys. I went to his defense ..."

"And we both got thrashed!" Xavier finished as he and Philippe laughed. "But there is nothing like sitting in the mud, bruised and aching, to form a friendship."

"Even after we discovered who we were," Philippe agreed. "It did not seem to matter what came before. What mattered was us and the friendship we felt."

"Someone had to end all the silly feuding," Xavier replied.

"And we were the perfect ones to do it."

"Of course, we had to keep our friendship a secret from our parents until we were old enough to stand up to them."

Philippe sighed. "Until one of us was old enough to stand up to them. You had a far easier time with your sire than I did with mine."

Xavier nodded. "I must agree with that. Your father was rather formidable and mine was a pussycat compared to him. I think we were lucky he was for I would hate to think what we might have lost had we not been able to meet while we were home from school. You have been my friend for all these years and I am so thankful that you were."

Philippe nodded. "It has been good having you as a friend and being able to lay our family histories to rest. It pains me to think of all that was lost over the centuries; now, though, we have more than made up for those losses."

"Do you remember that vow we made the first summer we were home from school?" Xavier asked and smiled as Philippe nodded. "We met in the woods and cut our fingers to make a blood vow that we would be friends forever and when we were adults we would forget the feud and remember the friendship that had started this valley all those centuries ago."

"I have never forgotten," Philippe said softly.

"And I think you have both done a damn fine job of it, too," Henri said with a smile as he pushed back his chair and raised his glass. "A toast," he said and waited until Raoul and Didier also stood, "to Xavier and Philippe - two men with true nobility of spirit."

"To Xavier and Philippe," those around the table chorused.

The rest of the evening passed quickly as Philippe and Xavier continued to answer questions from a very curious Christine. They were amused by her interest in family history and Christine protested that Raoul had never told her any of this and she merely wished to know the family that had formed her husband's character. That comment had earned chortles from Henri and Didier who both considered Raoul a character. Christine had frowned upon them before taking her husband's arm and smiling up at him. Christine declared that Raoul had the most noble, most gentle character she had ever found in any man. Her words brought a twinkle to her husband's eye and gave Raoul the strength to actually smirk at his cousin and Didier.

"I swear," Didier said quietly to Henri as they stood at the bottom of the stairs waiting for Xavier and Monique to say their goodbyes, "your cousin is very irritating."

"You will not get an argument from me," Henri told him. "There are times when he is too full of himself. I would love to see him taken down, pushed from his pedestal."

Didier raised an eyebrow at him. "In front of his wife, perhaps."

"Definitely in front of his wife," Henri replied as he turned his gaze upwards toward the portico.

"You will come shopping with me in the village?" Monique asked Christine as she drew back from their hug.

"I would be delighted," Christine said.

"We will make it on a day when you are feeling a bit better than you were tonight," Monique said and smiled softly as a frown crossed Christine's face. "I noticed you did not drink your wine."

Raoul chose that moment to come up. "You are not feeling well?" he worried as he took Christine's hand.

"My nerves got the better of me," Christine replied. "I was feeling a bit nauseous tonight."

"Well," Xavier said as he and Philippe approached, "I hope you are no longer nervous of us."

Christine gave him a broad smile and a warm hug. "You have chased all my nerves away."

"I am satisfied then," Xavier told her as he took his wife's arm and turned to Philippe. "Walk us down to the carriage?"

"With pleasure," Philippe said. "I will be back in a moment," he said to Raoul before walking down the stairs with his friends.

"Are you sure you are feeling well?" Raoul asked Christine as he laid a gentle hand upon her cheek.

Christine melted into his touch, feeling some of her determination fade away. She closed her eyes, letting the familiar warmth spread throughout her body. "I am still feeling a trifle ill," she breathed, losing herself in the moment, "would you stay with me tonight?"

"With all my heart," Raoul replied.

Christine suddenly heard the words that had come out of her mouth and knew she was in trouble. She kept her eyes closed, trying to sort her way out of what she had done. She longed to have her husband next to her throughout the night but knew that every single touch of his hands, his lips, would only weaken her resolve and she needed to keep her secret awhile longer yet. Christine wanted Raoul to keep his illusion that his wife was perfect and wonderful and would never let him down. A thought crossed her mind and she opened her eyes.

"Can you just hold me tonight?" she asked, the pleading look in her eyes coming from deep within her soul.

"I will do whatever you wish me to do," Raoul said as a frown crossed his face. "I would never hurt you or force ..." His words were cut off by a finger placed against his lips.

"I know," Christine told him. "I just wish to be held."

"And all I want to do is hold you," Raoul replied as he reached in for a kiss, feeling his wife's arms warmly wrap around his neck. "Forever," he breathed.

Tell him, tell him, tell him, Christine's soul echoed to the pulse she felt as she rested her head against Raoul's neck.

No, no, no, her mind called back.

"I love you," Raoul whispered to her as he placed a kiss on her head.

"I know," Christine replied, her heart breaking for both of them.