Chapter 38

"I have an appointment with Dr. Kahn at nine in the morning tomorrow," Julia mentioned as we both dressed.

Lisette and Alex were nearing the end of their morning studies, which was the only reason we were out of bed.

"Shall I accompany you?" I asked.

Julia paused from brushing her hair out and shrugged. "I asked Madame and she agreed."

"Ah." I was not certain how to respond. Had it been the physician she knew I would not have cared either way, but since it was Kahn, I thought she would ask me to stay with her.

I had not seen Kamil or Arden since the miscarriage, and despite our paths not crossing, I suspected they still kept an eye on my home. Since weeks had passed and neither of them had caused a stir, I decided against searching for the twins.

"I would have asked you to join us, but Madame and I had plans for coffee and to stop by with some clothes that need taken in for Alex. Madame was more than happy to join me for the morning. I suppose she wants a bit of time out of the house."

"Horatio Brerro," I commented.

Julia did not look impressed. "Do not say his name like that."

"I beg your pardon?" I had truly no inflection in my voice when I said the name of Madeline's apparent suitor. In fact, I had almost forgotten that the man existed.

"You know what I mean." She gave me a look from the corner of her eye. "This is good for her."

"Very good," I said. This time I had every intention of adding more than a little suggestive undertones to my words.

Julia snorted in feigned disgust. "Shame on you," she admonished. "I think it is very nice for Madame to have a bit of romance in her life. Holding hands in the park, maybe having a kiss or two stolen in the rain, or-"

I immediately put out my hand to silence her. "That is more than enough of this conversation."

Julia made the bed once more and tossed a pillow toward what was now apparently my side. "I think it is very sweet," she said.

"Are you playing a bit of matchmaker while out tomorrow?"

My wife returned a sly smile. "What happens, happens," she said innocently enough. "And sometimes it needs a bit of a push in the right direction."

I regarded her a moment. "Is that what you said to yourself the night we first met?"

"That was a gigantic nudge gone unnoticed," she said with a laugh.

I winced at her words.

"Surely you remember?"

"You approached me on the street," I said.

"That is putting it very politely," she said with a laugh.

I finished buttoning my shirt and looked at my reflection in the mirror. Julia stood behind me and looked over the room with a nod of approval at her feminine touches throughout.

"Did you truly mean what you said earlier?" I asked suddenly. "That you did not know you could be satisfied each time?"

To my surprise, Julia's cheeks flushed. She swiped her hair away from her face and smoothed her hand over the pillows she had already straightened. "I did. Until you I did not know any better."

"Pardon me?"

She continued to smooth and straighten the pillows for a moment before finally looking at me. "That is what I was told. Once a woman is no longer a virgin, she cannot...feel that type of pleasure again."

For a moment I thought she was jesting, but her expression showed remorse and discomfort at the turn in conversation.

"Louis told you that?" I asked.

Julia quickly shrugged. Her features appeared more pinched and I fully expected she would change the subject.

"He said a lot of things," she said dismissively as she turned away and arranged her jewelry on the dresser.

Her words should not have come as a surprise, but when I thought I could not possibly think less of Louis Seuratti, I found my opinion of the dead bastard plummeted again.

Clearly he did not know the pleasure of satisfying a woman-or perhaps he simply did not know how to make a woman respond to his touch. He was such an arrogant fool I doubted he realized all that he lacked. Yet another aspect of life where I had bested him, one in which he would have never suspected.

"How long were you married to him again?" I moved carefully toward Julia, calculating every footstep so that she would not hear me come up behind her. "Four years? Five?"

"Too long," she replied. "And honestly I do not wish to recall a single-"

I wrapped my arms around her waist and she arched her back, releasing a sound of surprise. Gently I kissed the side of her neck and she scrunched her shoulders and playfully swatted my hand. "You need a bell," she said as she looked up at me and grinned. "Truly, a bell around that neck of yours."

"Five years is far too long to go unsatisfied in marriage," I said. "I will make it up to you," I said in her ear.

"Oh?"

"Five years of making certain you are always satisfied as soon as you are released from a physician's care."

She leaned her head back against my shoulder and sighed. "I am sure women the world over swoon over your music. If they only knew of your other talents, Monsieur Kire. There would be fainting in the theater."

"What would the critics say?"

Julia sensibly pried herself from my grasp and unlocked the bedroom door. "About my controversial and exceedingly amorous husband?" she said over her shoulder. "Plenty."

"Where are you going?"

"To collect the letters from your uncle before Lissy and Alex are home."

An hour before supper Lisette sat perched on the edge of her chair in the parlor with her hands carefully folded in her lap and the most attentive look on her oval face.

Alex had joined her as well to listen to me play, but while I held Lisette's rapt attention, Alex looked like he'd been shot and left to die a slow and agonizing death, such was his posture.

Bessie joined the audience as well and laid on her back with her tail swishing back and forth, either oblivious to or simply ignoring Aria as she batted at the dog's enjoyment of so many people in the same room with her.

I finished playing an original violin piece, a concerto I had finished a while ago but had left to sit on the edge of my desk with the intention of giving myself space from my work so that I could give it a more critical listen at a later time. Madeline had said she enjoyed it, but she honestly had the same opinion of nearly every composition she heard. On the other hand, I wasn't convinced the whole composition was better served as kindling.

Once I finished playing, I looked to Alex, who mumbled it was fine, then turned to Lisette. Her expression was somewhat unreadable, which was not what I had expected given her earlier excitement.

"I don't think I like it."

I almost dropped my bow. Brow furrowed, I shifted my weight. "Pardon me?"

Lisette pursed her lips. "It was fine, really."

"But…?" I ventured. Clearly it was not fine. Fifty percent of my audience able to give an opinion was still dying a dramatically fake death while the other half didn't think she liked it. Fire seemed a viable option.

"I do not wish to hurt your feelings," Lisette said.

As far as critics went, Lisette was the most polite one I had ever encountered. Her great uncle had once said that if it was a choice between hearing my music or lining up at a slaughterhouse, there would be a 'line of sheep clamouring to get inside the building and end their collective misery'.

"I have subjected my music to criticism for a very long time. You will not hurt my feelings."

Lisette shrugged. "I thought it was too sad."

"Too sad?" I wanted to tell her it was the appropriate amount of melancholy, which was precisely my intention.

She nodded. "It sounded like the violin was crying."

"Yes, it certainly did." Again, that had been my intention.

Lisette frowned. "Did you intend to play a sad song?"

"I suppose not."

She leaned forward and gave me a worried look. "Are you sad now?"

I shook my head. "No, not at all."

"Good. I did not want you to be sad," she replied.

"Play something else," Alex moaned.

"Excellent advice from someone sitting upside down in my chair," I groused.

Alex made a gurgling sound that was most likely supposed to sound like disgust. He sat upright and glowered as he looked at the clock. "We are going to starve to death," he moaned.

Ignoring him, I thought a moment and played part of an unfinished waltz that had been flitting through my thoughts off and on for weeks. I had jotted down notes here and there, but nothing substantial enough to call it much of anything other than an idea-not that composing a waltz was difficult in the least.

Still, the simplicity of the song had come to me while I watched Lisette interact with her mother, inspired by the way they would both move or gesture at the same time, even if they did not look at one another. There was such grace between them, and as I watched the two of them, I wondered if they realized the ease of their movements, the way their bond to one another lent itself perfectly to a dance.

"Better?" I asked.

Lisette readily nodded. I did not bother looking to my son for his opinion.

"What is that?" Julia asked. "Something new?"

I turned to see her leaning in the doorway with her arms crossed. "Unfinished, actually," I answered.

"Does it have a title?" Lisette asked in her normally demure tone.

"It does," I replied. "Lisette's Waltz."

I do not think I ever saw anyone blush so bright red in my life as Lisette did in the parlor. Her hazel eyes bulged as she considered my words. A wide grin spread across her face, but disappeared almost instantly.

"Are you jesting?" she asked. Her posture changed, her body shrinking into her chair as she receded from flattered and settled into being uncertain of whether or not I was being sarcastic.

I placed my violin in the case and leaned on the desk. I thought of when she was much younger, when she would sit outside in the back garden still as a statue. Every time I saw her I had to look twice as I thought she was a sculpture and not a three-year-old girl frozen in place. Children of that age were meant to be in constant motion, swirling up a storm of excitement and mirth in their every waking moment.

But Lisette had been none of those things. She was to sit quietly as to not disturb her father when he was home. She was to disappear from his sight and blend into the background, no different from a chair. When I looked at her in my parlor, I saw a girl who was still accustomed to blending in and not standing out.

"I would not hurt your feelings," I said to her. She looked up at me and I thought of what Julia had said of how Lisette feared there would not be enough room for her. I knew that feeling all too well, the fear of being forgotten. "I mean it sincerely. When the song is finished, it will be yours."

She brightened once more. "You will play it again when it's complete?" Her gaze dropped and she corrected herself. "I would very much like to hear it again, if you would not mind."

"For you, yes, of course I will play. As many times as you wish. However, Alex will have to pay me five hundred francs if he ever wishes to be part of the audience again."

Julia nudged me in the side. "Leave him be. Alex, Lissy, wash up. Food is on the table."

At the promise of food Alex took off like a shot from the parlor. Lisette offered a curtsy, to which I bowed, before she bolted out of the room. Bessie, having no idea what the fuss was about, howled and dutifully followed after the children.

"Madame saw your cousin earlier this evening," Julia said once we were alone. "He asked if you would stop by his home tonight after supper or tomorrow."

"Of course," I replied. Weeks had passed and with our canceled holiday and the commotion that had followed, I had not seen Joshua since he had given me the package from Amelie. "Did Madeline say why?"

Julia shook her head. "Nothing urgent from what I gather."

I followed her toward the dining room where I could hear Alex telling Ruby how he felt as though he might die due to hunger.

"Oh my," Ruby said, which was followed by a sympathetic, "Oh dear."

Alex ate like a man starved, to which Julia commented that he was most likely on the verge of a growth spurt. Once he had a bit of food in him, Alex became much less combative and more his usual gregarious self.

"Are we still taking a holiday?" he asked no one in particular.

Julia looked to me for an answer. "In a few weeks, I would think," I answered.

Given that I had no idea of where we were going the first time, I hardly understood why I was the one expected to answer. My place as head of the household was somewhat of a sham. Julia had made most of the arrangements for our travels and had now decorated our bedroom to her liking. I was merely there to nod in agreement-and sometimes not even that formality was not needed.

"Are we visiting Mademoiselle Batiste?" Alex questioned. "Did you write to her? What did you say? If you have not yet sent it, may I write to her as well?"

"I have not responded yet." I shot him a look from across the table, but far be it from Alex to take a silent cue.

"Why not?" Alex persisted.

"I'm sure he will," Julia interjected. "Why don't you tell us about your lessons, both of you?"

Lisette looked briefly at Alex before turning her full attention to her peas, which she had smashed one by on her plate before eating.

"We learned about the Phoenicians and the alphabet," Lisette said.

"You may have," Alex complained. "I learned nothing."

"Oh, come now, Alex. Most certainly you learned something in the six hours you spent with Uncle Charles," Julia said gently.

Alex took a deep breath and exhaled. "Monsieur Lowry will not tell us where babies come from before they are planted in the dirt."

Julia looked from him to me, clearly regretting her query about lessons.

"Monsieur Lowry?" I asked, attempting to stifle a laugh. To my knowledge, Alex had never referred to his uncle formally, which meant he was quite upset.

Alex gave a curt nod.

"What do you mean before they are planted in the dirt?" I asked.

"Where does the seed come from?"

"Perhaps Uncle Charles does not know."

Alex's tight features momentarily loosened. "What do you mean?"

"You should say I beg your pardon," I corrected him. "And I mean Uncle Charles is not a physician so perhaps he does not know the answers to all of your questions."

"But he always knows," Alex complained.

"How well could you recite every bit of knowledge Charles has instilled within you?"

Alex thought a moment. "Everything," he replied. "Word for word."

Julia grunted and shook her head at his words but didn't disagree with him. Lisette turned her head away but I still saw her roll her eyes.

Alex's obstinate nature was quite impressive, but also exhausting. "I am positive you are correct."

By the look on his face, Alex expected a quiz of his boundless knowledge rather than a simple agreement on my behalf. He sat, his bottom lip jutting out, and looked around the room as if awaiting a challenge.

"Madame Batiste sent you a letter," I commented in hopes of changing the subject back to traveling.

Alex's demeanor immediately changed. "She did!" he yelled far too loudly. "May I read it?"

"After we finish eating," I said. "And that means all of us," I added before he began stuffing food into his mouth at an alarming rate.

"Awww," he said under his breath. He began to slouch, then sat up straighter and looked wide-eyed at me. "Does she wish to meet us? Is she coming to Paris? Should I help Ruby straighten the house for Madame Batiste's arrival?"

"She invited us to visit her," I said casually.

"When are we leaving?" Lisette asked. Her tone was slightly more subdued than Alex.

"Your father has not yet replied to Madame Batiste," Julia reminded them. She took a sip of wine and looked at me over the rim of her glass. "Perhaps he will have a moment to do so after supper."

All three of them stared at me. When I looked down by my feet even Bessie looked up at me, although she was more interested in me passing her a bit of food from my plate in secret. I noticed a few peas near her back leg and realized Alex must have tossed some to her without me seeing.

I took a breath and scanned the room. "Tonight or tomorrow morning I will write back and let her know we intend to travel soon. Perhaps we will spend a day or two in her town before we reach the sea-if she finds that permissible."

Lisette clasped her hands together, Alex kicked the leg of the table while swinging his legs, and Julia smiled back at me, satisfied with my answer. Beneath the table, Bessie realized there was food dropped by my son and lazily licked up the peas.

The plan was slowly being set into motion. I took another bite of my food and sat back. Of all the parts of my past I regretted, I looked forward to seeing Amelie Batiste once more.