CH 69
Julia was kind enough to humor Lisette's request for sun-shaped pastries, and Lisette, my co-conspirator, managed to smuggle one of their creations into the study for me to sample prior to lunch.
Lisette's excitement was palpable; she wanted every detail to be perfect. Alex, on the other hand, sat with his ankle resting on his opposite knee as he looked over the newspaper with his face scrunched up.
"No good news," he muttered to himself. "Who writes this refuse?"
Alex would be nine years of age in four months, but judging by the way he groused and set the paper aside, he looked to be turning twenty. I smiled to myself, amused by his antics.
"Alex, why don't you make yourself presentable for lunch?" Julia suggested as she peeked into the study. "And Lisette, bring your father a napkin. It seems someone brought him a panna cotta while the sauce was freshly applied."
Lisette's cheeks immediately flushed and I smiled at her as she darted out of the room without a word.
"Don't you dare spoil your lunch with dessert," Julia said with a shake of her finger.
Before I could reply, the doorbell chimed. Julia and I both glanced at the clock, and I was surprised to see that it was not quite one-thirty.
"He's early," Julia said under her breath. "But everything is prepared."
She walked with me to the foyer, her fingers caressing mine as we reached the door side-by-side. I took a deep breath, opened the door, and stared at my cousin.
"Joshua," Julia said, sounding as surprised as I felt. "How wonderful to see you."
"Always a pleasure, Julia." Joshua looked expectantly from Julia to me, and given how we had parted ways the previous evening, I had not expected him to accept the invitation for lunch.
"If you'd care to step inside, Phelan has not yet arrived," I said.
Joshua frowned. "I'm afraid I cannot stay long." He shifted his weight and looked past me as Lisette and Alex ran to the door. "May I speak to you in private?"
"Of course," I said as I motioned down the hall toward the study.
Joshua greeted Alex and Lisette briefly and kissed Julia on the cheek before he followed me down the hall and into the study. He shut the door behind him and took a deep breath.
"Phelan will not be joining you for lunch today," Joshua said before I could speak.
I stared at him for a moment, unsure of whether I should be disappointed or angered considering how much effort Julia and Lisette had put into lunch and admittedly how I had looked forward to speaking with my brother. "He has reconsidered?"
Joshua shook his head. "It wasn't his decision. He is currently being held by gendarmes for assault."
My chest tightened, my posture straightening. I stared at Joshua, the words barely registering in my mind. "Surely it's little more than an accusation?"
"One backed by witnesses."
I crossed my arms. "Reliable?"
Joshua didn't immediately answer. "This is not the first time Phelan has gotten into a physical altercation," he said. "His reputation speaks for itself."
"This happened last night?" I asked.
"No," Joshua answered. "The night of the gallery opening. It has taken this long for him to be located by the gendarmes."
"The incident with Moreau's friend?"
Joshua looked surprised that I was privy to such information. "I believe that was the first one," he answered, his light eyes narrowed.
"First one?"
"The disagreement, as Phelan put it, which happened at the end of the opening. I did not think you stayed until the end."
"We didn't. And I was not aware there was more than one altercation."
Joshua grunted. "A continuation of the same argument, I suppose, and It's very likely Jean Moreau started it, but Phelan was not ready to let it end. At the gallery it was an exchange of harsh words and a bit of shoving quickly brought to an end."
"Perhaps Moreau shouldn't have attended the gallery opening," I suggested.
"No, he should not," Joshua admitted tightly. "But that doesn't excuse Phelan for breaking a man's nose and apparently a rib or two. Phelan is quite fortunate Jean was merciful and didn't insist on attempted murder charges."
I gawked at Joshua and wondered if the gendarmes had been looking for my brother when our paths crossed after I walked Meg home. I had asked Phelan directly if his disheveled appearance and the scratches down his arm were from Monsieur Moreau and he'd done nothing more than glare at me.
"This happened at the gallery?"
"This happened at the Emerald Lion's Den."
I had passed the upscale public house many times over the years with its garish lion statues standing at attention at the entrance. I'd overheard Charles and his friends talk of how patrons dined with real crystal glasses and used gold forks for escargot while a chandelier made of emeralds dazzled overhead. I doubted any of it was true, but a fight breaking out at an establishment that catered to the upper echelon was quite troubling, especially considering it involved my brother.
"Who is Jean Moreau?" I asked. "His name is not familiar to me."
Joshua appeared uncomfortable by my inquiry, but he gave a nod and answered nonetheless. "Phelan considered Jean more of a brother than simply a friend for more than fifteen years. He met Daphne through Jean, actually."
"His former wife?" I asked.
"Yes, Phelan's ex-wife and consequently Jean's distant cousin. Phelan and Daphne met at the Moreau family estate in Montrouge at a party and courted for several weeks before they were married. Jean gave his blessing and Phelan could not have been happier."
"What happened?" I asked.
Joshua hesitated. He gave a heavy sigh before he answered. "Rumors started that Jean was the father of Daphne's unborn child."
My lips parted. "Who would say such a thing?"
"Jean was quite loose-lipped after an evening of libations and told mutual friends in private that he was the father, and eventually word reached Phelan. Phelan and Daphne divorced months after the baby was born with no real explanation." Joshua shrugged "And Jean publicly denied the claims to avoid scandal as he was also newly married."
"Phelan had to have known Daphne was with child prior to their marriage."
"Yes," Joshua answered. "And he was quite content with the idea of raising the child as his own as he was under the impression that the child's true father was out of the picture. Then the rumor started that Jean was the father." He paused and looked away from me. "And that Jean and Daphne were still meeting amorously after the wedding in Phelan and Daphne's home while the man of the house was at the gallery or his old studio."
I raised a brow. "Do you believe the rumors were true?"
Joshua did not hesitate to answer. "I do. And I believe Phelan discovered ample evidence of an affair when he returned early one day, but he does not wish to speak of it. I suppose at this point it doesn't matter what the truth is. He is divorced and has no desire to have any contact with Jean or Daphne."
"Are Jean and Daphne…?"
"He is still married to Brigit Barret, the soap maker's only child," Joshua said as if I should have known of whom he spoke. "And Daphne still lives in the flat she shared with Phelan. I've heard she is raising her daughter with the help of her mother. That's the extent of my knowledge."
I tapped my fingers against my hip. "How long is Phelan being held?"
"I'm not certain. At least a few days I would suspect and then he is on orders to immediately return home."
"I cannot see him while he's being held," I blurted out. "I can't-I can't travel to the jail without-"
Without risking being caught. Without the possibility of my past mistakes requiring the debts of old paid in full.
Joshua frowned, his gaze settling on the masked side of my face, the mask of an opera ghost from what felt like a lifetime ago. "Phelan is aware that you will not be coming to visit. He understands."
"You've seen him?"
Joshua nodded. "An hour ago. I received word this morning that Phelan had been...found."
I should not have been surprised that Phelan had not contacted me directly, yet still I felt a bitter spike of jealousy. My brother was aware of where I resided and yet he had not bothered to reach out to me.
"How is he?"
"In surprisingly good spirits. I suppose given that he has a mere scratch from the altercation he is feeling quite satisfied with his actions."
"Will he return here? To Paris?"
Joshua worked his jaw in silence. "He has been advised to keep his distance for the foreseeable future in order to avoid trouble. Personally I feel that it is in his best interest to stay away for a time."
My breath caught. Decades of believing I was alone and unwanted, a single child with no immediate family and now I had a brother whom I wished to know and could not see. Frustration knotted my stomach and sent a flutter of panic through me.
"Damn it," I said under my breath.
"He gave me this." Joshua produced an envelope from his coat pocket that was folded in half and bent at the corners. "If you wish to send word to him, I will see that your note is received."
I accepted the envelope, which was not addressed, and placed it into my own pocket for the time being. There were no words I wished to commit to paper. For admittedly selfish reasons I was livid with Jean Moreau for having my brother incarcerated and equally infuriated with Phelan for engaging in an altercation that led to his imprisonment.
I glanced at the clock. I still expected to hear a knock at the door or the bell to ring.
Joshua sighed. "I apologize for the nature of my visit, however, I wanted you to hear it from me before you read it in the newspaper or from other sources."
"I appreciate you telling me and apologize for the abrupt ending to our conversation last night."
Joshua grunted. "I am quite accustomed to Phelan exiting in the same manner. You two certainly have that much in common."
"If you would care to stay for lunch, Lisette and Julia put quite a lot of thought into meal planning."
Joshua didn't speak immediately. He took a breath and exhaled slowly. I expected him to politely decline.
"Erik, I know you have been searching for answers, and I can tell you that the incident with Moreau is not unique. Phelan was never the same after you went missing," he said. "The combative nature he displayed when my father originally brought the two of you home returned a few months after you disappeared. He would not sit at the table for supper as Phelan knew...rather, he suspected, my father did not want him there."
My skin prickled at my cousin's words. "Your father did not forgive Phelan?"
Joshua looked away. "Not formally."
"That is why there is no mention of Phelan in any of the letters? Because your father still blamed him for my disappearance?"
"My father equally blamed Phelan and himself. My father attempted to make amends once Phelan and I moved here, but by that time Phelan did not answer to anyone. If my father had managed to make his way here with you, then perhaps they would have seen past their difference at last-"
"Was he cruel to Phelan?"
Joshua shook his head. "They ignored each other for the most part."
"For years?"
"Unfortunately, yes."
"And your father struck him several times when they returned from the beach without me? And then he locked Phelan outside?"
Joshua's expression darkened.
My hands balled into fists at my sides, and I impatiently asked my question a second time. "Your father struck Phelan-"
"Yes. But it was an isolated incident and my father deeply regretted his actions. He was frustrated..."
I shook my head, unwilling to hear another word. I knew all too well the actions of a frustrated man taken out on a boy unable to defend himself along with the distrust that came from being struck or beaten. The memories blended together, a tangled mass of bruises and welts, of a blackened eye and a handful of hair ripped from my scalp. The timeline didn't matter; I could have been four or I could have been ten years of age and the fear was the same.
I could feel it again now, decades later, the way my skin prickled at the mere thought of how I was treated.
The man who had saved me from an asylum, the one individual I had admired and the first person I had truly loved in my youth had cultivated anger within my brother. It hardly seemed possible that the person who had ignored Phelan had sought to free me from a life of solitude and constant punishment in my parents' cellar.
"I loved him," I said under my breath. My stomach churned, my heart still racing as I grappled with the idea of my uncle not being the deity I had believed in all of my life. "I loved him and I mourned his death. I still mourn him. But now? Now I do not know what to think."
"He truly wished to reunite you and Phelan."
"I find that difficult to believe considering he kept my brother a secret from me. He had plenty of opportunities to be truthful with me."
Joshua closed his eyes, his shoulders sagging. "I have no idea why my father did not tell you that Phelan was your brother. I apologize-"
"Don't," I said before he finished. Joshua did not owe me an apology and his words meant nothing.
Another secret, another question that would go unanswered for as long as I lived. Part of me wished that I had never come across Joshua or Phelan and continued with the ignorant belief that my family consisted of my son and a handful of people who had no blood ties to me. I had made my own family starting with Madeline and completed with Julia and Lisette. I needed no one else.
"He did love Phelan," Joshua said softly. "As much as Phelan would allow anyone to care for him. I sincerely wish they would have been able to put their differences aside. I do believe Phelan still regrets that they never repaired their relationship."
"Father!" Alex banged on the closed door, startling both Joshua and myself. "The table is set!"
"A moment, Alex," I said.
"He said a moment!" Alex shouted as he once again dashed down the hall, his footsteps as heavy as a horse plodding through the house.
Joshua offered a sympathetic frown. "If there is a way in which I may offer assistance, Cousin, please do not hesitate to ask."
Erase the past, I wanted to tell him. Make certain that the day I disappeared from my uncle's home never happened and eliminate all that had followed.
No bitterness between my brother and uncle. No traveling fair. No time spent in Persia. No Opera House. No blood on my hands. I was aware that my appearance would have still limited my acceptance into polite society, but perhaps I would not have been treated as a monster. Perhaps…perhaps I could have been in my twentieth season at the opera house, playing first violin. Perhaps...
The thought was numbing. A world of possibilities had vanished that day and I had no memory of it.
"You are most kind," I mumbled as I opened the door and ushered Joshua down the hall.
We paused at the front door. "Tell Phelan we will be leaving on holiday soon, but I wish to remain in contact if he so desires."
Joshua nodded. He took a small step forward and placed his hand on my shoulder. "Of course. You leave soon, correct?"
"The seventeenth. We will be in Rouen for the night and off to Tomages for three days before we stay in Calais for the remainder of our holiday."
"When do you return?"
"On the first of August."
Joshua smiled. "Safe travels. I will be certain to give Phelan your fondest greetings."
OoO
Alex and Lisette stared at me once Joshua went on his way. Julia stood behind our children, a hand on each of their shoulders and a worried look on her face as though she expected the worst.
"I'm afraid something has come up and Phelan will not be joining us for lunch," I said.
Lisette looked at her feet while Alex pursed his lips and tilted his head to the side. "Another time, then, Father?" he asked.
I looked from him to Julia. "Another time," I said.
"Why don't the two of you see if Aunt Meg could use your help?" Julia suggested. Her words were met with nods before Alex and Lisette chased each other down the hall and out the back door.
"Did he forget?" Julia asked once we were alone.
"He's been incarcerated," I answered.
Julia's cheeks lost color and she placed her hand over her heart. "My goodness," she said under her breath.
"An incident with Moreau," I said before she could ask. "He's been charged with assault. Joshua made it sound as though Phelan is quite fortunate the charges were not more severe."
"That sounds serious enough. How long will he be held?"
"Joshua wasn't certain, but Phelan is on orders to return home once he's freed."
"To Belgium?"
I nodded.
"Will you see him before he leaves?"
I shook my head. An ache that was never far away clenched around my heart. There was a decent possibility that it would be months or perhaps years before I saw Phelan again. The smallest fragments of a budding relationship would be lost with time, and the next instance we saw one another-if we were ever face to face again-we would undoubtedly be strangers once more.
"Erik-"
"That is all I know, Julia." I turned away from my wife and stared down the wall toward the kitchen. "I can't see him. I cannot see my own brother."
My chest tightened to the extent where I felt as though I would suffocate. Julia came up beside me and placed her hand in mine. "You can travel to Belgium," she said. "We all could if that's what you would like. You may not be able to see him while he's still here in Paris, but that doesn't mean you can never see him again."
I studied her briefly and instinctively touched the note from Phelan still inside my pocket. "If he would have me as his guest."
Julia smiled. "Ask him."
Before I could reply, Alex and Lisette raced back into the house.
"Aunt Meg said she is fine, Audrey, Xavier and Charles are all taking a nap," Alex breathlessly answered. "May we have lunch now?"
"Of course. And a wonderful dessert to follow," Julia replied. "Alex, have you ever had panna cotta?"
Alex shook his head as he skipped down the hall and swung into the dining room and jumped over Bessie, who was asleep in the threshold and made no attempt to move for our sake. "Well, a bite earlier from Father's plate when he walked into the other room," he admitted.
I furrowed my brow. "Indeed."
Alex grinned in return. "A bite! Why are we eating panna cotta anyway?"
"Lissy suggested it," Julia answered. She looked to her daughter. "What made you think of it, darling?"
"It was Father's favorite," Lisette answered.
I furrowed my brow and Julia paused and blinked at Lisette, her smile fading. "I beg your pardon?" Julia said.
"Not Papa," Lisette said as she glanced at me. "My real father."
