CHAPTER 35 - Homecoming

End of January 1782

- The war in America turned out to be a real success! - thundered Count de Vojer - The English signed the capitulation, so we will probably celebrate the independence of our great ally any day - he raised his glass of brandy as if to toast.

- Herbert! - his wife, sitting next to him, admonished him.

- Oh yeah.. I'm sorry, sweetheart - the Count said, glancing quickly at Marie Glance as she passed by. They had already heard the tragic story of the hostess's grandson.

Oscar was watching her brother-in-law from her seat on the sofa by the window. For a long time now, she had wondered how her father could choose such a stupid husband for her eldest sister. Ten years older than Oscar, Josefine did not seem to share this opinion, because she smiled understandingly at her husband and returned to the conversation with her sister. Two years younger than Josefine, Camille had her hands on her stomach, visibly pregnant. Her husband, Baron de Bouville, accompanied his father-in-law and both brothers-in-law to the table. The last of the sisters who came, Christine, was sitting on the sofa next to Oscar and pretended to be reading, but she was actually staring at her out of the corner of her eye, afraid to talk. Oscar didn't mind. And so she had no common topic with any of her sisters. But her brothers-in-law tormented her. Their constant inquisitiveness, questions about the king and queen, and their mock courtesy irritated Oscar immensely. She was sure that out of her father's ear, they had to say something harsh or dirty about her. Perhaps only Christine's husband, Count de Foix, the youngest of them, tried to treat her with real respect.

And then there was Baron Baltimore, her sister Helene's husband. A nobleman whose manners were impeccable towards women and men, regardless of rank and fortune. But he was an Englishman, and that was enough for the rest of them not to speak to him at all except the necessary courtesy. Therefore, the sister and her husband were not invited to Christmas. Neither were they invited at all. As if they didn't exist.

The rest of the family had been staying with them for over a month, since Christmas Eve, and it didn't look like they were going to leave soon.

- They say the battle in the bay was spectacular! - Oscar heard De Vojer's excited voice again. The Count, having made sure that the mourning woman was not nearby, proceeded to continue his argument – Imagine, my dear gentlemen! Twenty-five of our liners opposite the English nineteen.

- The fight looked even - muttered General.

- That's it, my dear father-in-law! - the Count shouted happily - Then why did de Grasse win, and not that idiot Graves?

- Apparently he's a better strategist - added de Foix, distracting himself from contemplating the glass.

- We Frenchmen are great and we can really fight! - de Vojer swelled with pride.

- But we were outnumbered at Yorktown - General de Jarjayes said ironically.

- It's true - Josefine's husband nodded - But we were besieging the city, fighting offensively. We have suffered heavy losses but we have not yielded. The victory is our merit - a wide smile appeared on the man's face.

- Is it true that your hostess' grandson was killed in that very battle? - de Bouville asked in a lower voice, moving closer to the table.

Oscar was getting impatient. The pain in the chest area was starting to spread out in a violent wave. She reached for the bottle from the table and poured herself an entire glass of wine, then drank it in a couple of sips. The sister sitting next glared at her.

- Unfortunately, yes, he did - replied the general, his voice changed. He glanced fearfully at Oscar, but saw nothing disturbing about her. She sat quietly next to Christine, staring at the glass.

- I did not know that Marie's grandson was a soldier - said Josefine, who has so far not been interested in her husband's war stories.

- He wasn't – Oscar's father replied.

- In that case, I don't understand - Josephine pouted, shrugging her shoulders - Christine, when can we expect your first child to be born? - she abruptly changed the subject.

The face of woman sitting next to Oscar turned red. It was clear the question was embarrassing to her. Josefine was never tactful, and since she herself became a mother of two, one of her main interests was the motherhood of sisters. She was very pained that this youngest sister could not be harassed with similar questions, so now her main target was the second of the younger sisters.

Christine said nothing, just glanced at Oscar, begging for help. Oscar tried to pretend not to see it, but before she could do anything, loud screams and crying came from the hall.

- I'll see what happened - Oscar stood up and left the living room briskly, escaping the strange questions and glare.

In the corridor, she walked over to the railing and looked down. At the front door there was a crowd of servants shouting excitedly. In the center of the crowd stood a tall man in a navy blue uniform, a weeping woman with silver hair hugging his chest.

...

- ..ar! - she heard a scrap of a word - Oscar! - someone shouted straight into her ear. She gasped for air in one long gulp. She hadn't realized she was holding her breath all the time. She would pass out in a moment. She felt her fingers ache from squeezing the railing. Christine was standing next, staring at her.

With a smile on his tired face, Andre hugged the crying Marie and stroked her head as if she was a baby. The men standing around him patted his back, and the women laughed happily. Andre greeted everyone very kindly. When Grandma finally let go of him, a sobbing Rosalie burst into his arms. At one point, Andre looked up and their eyes met. Oscar saw his gaze darken, his smile fading. He looked at her darkly for a moment, then looked at General who had appeared at the top of the stairs. Oscar was able to watch her father walk up to Andre, shake his hand, and start the conversation. After a few minutes General gave orders to the servants, and slowly they all began to depart. Andre, leaning on his grandmother's shoulder, walked away towards the servants' wing without giving Oscar a single glance.

- Are you okay, Oscar? - Christine asked, seeing her sister looked pale as a sheet.

- No, it's not okay - Oscar replied quickly, trying to suppress the creeping panic - I think I have drunk too much and I feel bad. I will go to my room now - she moved slightly unsteadily. Once inside, she collapsed on the bed and started crying as desperately as she had never before in her life.

…

- I'm glad you were able to accompany us, Andre - Madame Marguerite smiled at the man sitting next to her - Hope you feel better now?

- Yes, thank you, Madame - he said politely, clutching the glass of brandy offered to him by the woman – The wound still hurts sometimes, but the doctor says it's a matter of a week or two. It looks like the surgeon on the ship took good care of me. I would like to thank you again for the opportunity to consult your doctor, Madame.

- No problem at all - the woman put her hand gently on his forearm - I will do anything to see the smile on my Marie's face again - she smiled friendly.

- I agree - said General - Good to see you alive, Andre.

Everyone in the living room laughed at the unexpected words of the old man. Marie the housekeeper stood nearby, wiping her eyes from the tears that were running down her cheeks again.

Oscar was sitting in her permanent place on the sofa and gloomily watching the whole scene. Yesterday, after many hours of crying, she fell asleep tired. She woke up with a terrible headache, so she ate breakfast and lunch in her room, and only for supper did she drag herself to the dining room. Throughout the meal, she didn't say a single word. Her sisters and brothers-in-law spoke almost all the time, so no one actually noticed the strange silence of Jarjayes' heiress. Only occasionally her father gave her scared looks, but she didn't even notice.

Earlier this morning, Dr. Lasonne came to see Andre. The doctor examined the injured man and administered drugs to help heal the wound. General, to the delight of Marie and the rest of the company, allowed Andre to recover in the manor. He also invited him to spend the afternoon with the Jarjayes family, if only his health allowed it. Oscar was surprised by this fact, but did not show it.

So Andre was sitting, as if nothing had happened, on the sofa next to Oscar's mother, drinking brandy and talking about America. Oscar sat almost still, slowly sipping the wine, trying not to miss a word of his stories. She watched him closely from under her half-closed lashes, pretending not to look at him at all. But he didn't even give her a single look. Apart from the cold greeting and the handshake half an hour earlier, they hadn't spoken a word with each other.

Andre changed a lot since she had seen him a year and a half earlier. He lost weight, looked more mature, and his body became muscular. The dirty uniform from the previous day was gone, replaced by a clean shirt and vest that hugged his chest muscles. His hair was longer now, not at all like in her recent dream. There was a fresh scar on the right side of his face that cut horizontally across his cheekbone, and instead of disfiguring his face, it only added to his charm. Oscar was no longer afraid to admit that he was just beautiful. The most beautiful man she had ever seen in her life.

- But how do you come to be here, Monsieur? - Count de Vojer asked - As far as we all know, you were declared missing and then dead.

- I don't know that myself - Andre shrugged - In one moment I was lying on the battlefield, curling up in pain and bleeding, and another I was on the ship back to France. I was probably one of the last people to be loaded onto the ship in that chaos, and in a hurry no one wrote down my name. Hence this terrible misunderstanding.

Marie, serving snacks nearby, snorted angrily, and the others laughed. The old lady could not decide all the time whether to be furious with her grandson that he had left without telling her anything and fought in the war, or to be happy that the rumors of his death had turned out to be untrue. However, at the nonchalance in her grandson's words, she has been leaning toward feeling angry.

- It looks like you were very lucky - added de Foix - Apparently it was a slaughter on both sides. Many other soldiers died.

- Perhaps it was luck. However, I say that I just did not plan to die there - Andre said carelessly, which made the company laugh again.

This time, Oscar snorted angrily. She set her glass down on the table with a clatter, turned and left. She couldn't take it anymore.

Andre watched her way to the door in surprise, then sighed and returned to the conversation he had interrupted. The amused company gathered in the living room completely missed the whole incident. However, there was a person who observed the every move of the two young people. That person was General de Jarjayes.