Chapter Three
"So why didn't you tell me?"
Judith frowned and looked up from her book. "About what?"
Angel shifted slightly in his position on the couch and Judith lifted her head from the crook of his elbow in case he wanted to move more freely. A fresh evening breeze from the open window behind them swept around her and she shivered with the bit of cold that came in with it—as if April were breathing out the last of winter.
"About the dinner party. In southern France."
Judith let out a small breath as she settled back in against him. Of course: Claire would have told him."I didn't say anything because I knew you wouldn't want to go," she said simply.
Every May, Georgiana Maughan and her husband Viggo hosted a dinner party at their estate near Avignon for their immediate social circle. It included significant others (they were mostly intermarried anyway, since their circle had formed when their children had all started school together, but aside from Judith and Sam's divorce, Eliza Dempsey had been widowed and remarried, so there had been the occasional newcomer over the years), and Georgiana had specifically told Judith that Angel was invited. Georgiana was well aware that Angel did not fully qualify as Significant Other-in Judith's eyes, at least-so Judith suspected that the invitation was so that those of them who had not met Angel finally could.
"And you don't trust me after I hosted Bridge," Angel lightly accused.
"Well…" Judith tried to think of a tactful way to say it, but quickly gave up. "No."
Angel grunted, not really able to argue.
"You wouldn't want to go anyway," Judith told him. "Given that you don't really like people or social situations."
Angel shifted beside her again. They had started reading upright next to each other, Angel's arm draped along the back of the couch, but had gradually fallen into something more comfortable and a little bit closer. Judith wasn't leaning on him per se, but close enough that she would have to shift if he wanted to move. She straightened up anyway.
"I thought that Bridge Night established that I am social when I want to be," Angel said.
"Socially flirtatious and manipulative, yes," Judith agreed. "My ex-husband will be there, Angel. Let's not open that can of worms."
"Hey, I am great at leaving worm cans unopened," Angel protested. "I leave trails of closed worm cans everywhere I go."
Judith twisted her head to look at him. He seemed entirely earnest, despite his light tone. What did he really want?
Angel, seeming to guess at her confusion, added in a more serious tone, "Claire said you wanted me to go."
Judith sighed and faced her book again. "Claire was not being accurate. She was trying to convince you that you want to go."
Angel was quiet for a moment. "But do you want me to go? Because I would if you wanted me to. I don't hate people that much."
Judith chuckled, but quickly sobered. "It's a plot, you know."
Angel grinned. "An evil plot? I'm great at those, too."
"An evil social plot," she told him. "They all want to meet you, so they're bending the definitions of 'Significant Other' to include you. You've been officially invited by the host and hostess, so I can't stop you from accepting, but this is my warning."
Angel seemed to consider that seriously for a moment, but then he said, "You and I have bent a lot of definitions lately. I don't see why they can't. It's just one night, right? And they know? How it actually is between us?"
Judith shrugged, "I've been as clear as possible, but they're not all that good at hearing what they don't want to-a few of them especially."
Angel shrugged too. "I don't see why we should be worried about that, then. If that's the only thing in the way."
Not exactly the only thing...
The dinner party was an affair that Judith well realized was more of a celebratory game of their own sophistication than a reason to be social, considering the ladies socialized regularly over card games and lunches and the men over…whatever men do. Despite this—or perhaps because of it, since no one really tried to hide it—Judith always enjoyed these annual get-togethers, and all the titivating, fine food and wine, hired entertainment, and comfortable conversation it entailed. It was their grown-up's version of playing dress-up.
Except that, as an original and active member of the male side of this circle, Judith's ex-husband also attended.
Judith and Sam were on peace treaty-like terms: civil and even mildly warm on happy occasions like their son's wedding, but something had been left unresolved when they had parted, and like a splinter it had been irritating the skin between them for over 20 years. Though the brief chance to catch up was usually welcome, it quickly became stiff after those catching-up topics had been exhausted. The handful of times that Sam had brought someone else along had been a little bit tense, and Judith didn't particularly want to think about the kind of tense that would happen if she brought along the young man who had been a groomsman at William's wedding...
"What?" Angel asked.
Judith glanced briefly up at him. "I told you: Sam is going to be there."
Angel was quiet for a long moment. "Well, I guess that settles that, then."
Judith twisted to look at him more squarely. "Really?"
"Sure," Angel shrugged. "I mean, we're both definitely the types who care enough about what one person might think to keep us from doing whatever we want…"
Judith frowned. He was teasing her, and he was also right, in his sarcasm. She wasn't quite sure what to do about that.
"Is it black tie?" he asked.
"Yes…"
He gave her a coy smile and slid a hand around her waist. "I look great in a tux."
Judith smiled in spite of herself. Yes, she knew.
"And I'll be so charming," Angel's smile turned from coy to debonaire, "that even your ex-husband will fall completely in love with me, and they'll all say, 'Judith Cole, where have you been hiding this magnificent, wondrous-'"
"Alright," Judith interrupted, "alright, you've made your point. Do you honestly want to go?"
Angel considered his answer for a minute. "I honestly want to make you happy," he finally said. "And part of making you happy is making your friends happy. So… Yes."
Judith smiled at him. A true gentlemen: putting others' happiness before his own comfort. She leaned forward and kissed his cheek gratefully.
"You had better actually be charming, though," she warned when she backed away. "None of your so-called 'leather-trousers charm.'"
"Who calls it that?" Angel protested. "That's your phrase."
Judith ignored him. "You've got to promise me-you can't come if you're not going to play along with our little, We Are Self-Important Aristocrats game for the night. It's crucial to our alter egos, you see."
"Of course," Angel nodded solemnly. "Believe me, I can play that game very well. You won't even recognize me."
She'd better not.
The train ride to Avignon took about four hours, just under half of which Angel spent marveling at modern transportation technology.
"I mean really," Angel was saying, staring out the window in the same wonder as the four-year-old behind them, "trains that can cross the ocean." He turned to Judith. "It blows my mind each time."
She smiled. "Tell me about the first time you crossed the ocean."
"Oh god," Angel rolled his eyes. "Darla and I sailed to London from Dublin—my first time out of the country. I was so sick I couldn't properly eat anyone for weeks."
Judith tried not to laugh—when had she grown used to the idea of Angel eating people enough for it to be funny?
"It wasn't so much the pitch of the sea," Angel continued, "as the stench. All the worst parts of humanity, festering in this floating coffin of a boat, and the taste of it all never left their blo—" Angel caught himself as he realized what he was saying. He cleared his throat. "We mostly stayed on the continent after that, except for a few trips across the Channel and the Strait of Gibraltar. I didn't go to the New World until the turn of the 20th century." He turned back toward the window to watch the water speed under them.
"You know, I've done a lot of traveling," Angel said after a minute. "But I never quite realized just how big the world is until I watched it go by so fast like this, and it still takes hours to get where we're going. Here comes the shore…"
Judith leaned over to look out just in time to see the thin strip of French beach appear on the horizon and seconds later zoom under them.
"Incredible," Angel muttered.
"Mm," Judith agreed. She sat back. Though her one and only time traveling experience had been rather harrowing, she would jump at the chance to visit another time period with Angel—one in which it took weeks or months to travel anywhere. The culture of time eras captivated her as much as the culture of geographic regions did to sociologists and perpetual world travelers.
Judith sighed and noticed that Angel's bow tie was crooked. She reached across to fix it, which drew his attention away from the window again.
"Thanks," he said. "I never know how I look without a reflection…"
"You look, fine," she assured him. "If a bit dated."
"Wait, bow ties are still cool, right?" Angel asked, alarmed. "I was told very firmly that bow ties are cool."
"Bow ties are fine," Judith smiled. "I was referring to the cut of your jacket."
Angel looked down, sighing. "I'm going to give away my age, aren't I? I wish they made a yearly manual for immortals that explains everything we need to know to be caught up… An annual manual." He chuckled at his own poor joke.
Judith laughed anyway. "You'll do fine, don't worry. The fact that you were classically raised is entirely legitimate for this group. Georgiana may even ask which cotillion you went to."
"I didn't go to cotillion," Angel said.
"If you say you did," Claire suddenly appeared and sat down next to Judith, gracefully sweeping her long emerald green strapless cocktail dress under her as she did, "you could completely make up a name for the cotillion and Georgiana would pretend to know which one you're talking about. It would be very amusing." She kissed Judith's cheek. "You look beautiful, darling. The silver brings out your eyes."
Judith smiled, smoothing the white chiffon of the a-line skirt against her legs. The top was a dark silver silk, with wide halter straps and a cowl neckline that exposed her sternum; Judith was unusually glad for her smaller breast size that the neckline didn't expose much else.
"You, too, dear. I thought you were taking the earlier train with the Goldbergs?" Judith said.
"No, that's Eliza," Claire said. "And you know Adele and Laurie have been in Paris all week. They stayed at Les Fontaines de Paris."
"I stayed there once, back in the 20's," Angel said. "Excellent service."
"Which 20's?" Claire asked, since they were at the end of this century's 20's.
Angel frowned. "I don't remember…"
"Where's Alejandro, Claire?" Judith asked, glancing around.
"In our compartment near the front. Actually, I came to see if you wanted to join us. We were thinking of ordering a bottle of wine to start the evening off. But full disclaimer," Claire winced apologetically, "Sam is there, too."
Judith's heart jumped slightly, but she mentally shook herself. They were all adults; might as well get the more difficult greeting out of the way. She gave Claire a smile. "It'll be good to catch up."
Claire smiled and nodded. "I love how mature you are," she said as she stood and began leading the way toward the front of the long train. Judith shared a look with Angel that conveyed both amusement at Claire and apprehension at the situation in general. He patted her bare shoulder.
"I made sure we got a compartment on the east side for when we turn south," Claire told Angel as she walked along the narrow aisle.
"Thanks," Angel said. "These days most developed countries have standardized necrotempered windows, but I appreciate the thought."
"I thought it might give too much away if you caught fire in the middle of a glass of wine." Claire nodded. "It would put a bit of a damper on our evening."
"Yeah, so explain something to me about this whole evening thing," Angel said. "Cotillions, Les Fontaines de Paris, centuries-old second-estates in Avignon… Doesn't seem like 'playing aristocrat' to me."
"Oh, Viggo and Georgiana are full-blooded," Judith replied, tilting her head back toward him. "They both come from old money and high-paying careers. Their donations to the scholarship fund at Will's school-in honor of their daughter, who died of leukemia when she was only five," (Claire crossed herself), "-were how many of us afforded tuition for our own children. Calder was recruited through a program the Maughans started to bridge gaps across economic classes; he got full tuition provided he pursued university after graduation."
"Ohhh," Angel said slowly. "I always wondered, but it seemed rude to ask."
Judith smiled and turned forward again. "So we come from a wide range of socioeconomic backgrounds," she concluded. "Claire's husband was born under a tarp on the streets of Barcelona and made his first million by 25. He loves telling that story, if you want to ask."
"Alejandro is very interested to meet you," Claire said, turning her head. "I told him that you share hobbies of fencing and piano."
"Actually," Angel said, "I don't really fence so much as swing swords and kill things."
Claire gave a slight shrug. "Close enough. He's also hoping you'll agree to a piano duet later this evening."
Judith glanced back at Angel with a silent apology. Piano was hardly a hobby for Angel-Judith had never even heard him play-he had only mentioned that he'd learned at one point because, as an immortal, why not? He gave her a reassuring smile.
They arrived at the private compartment and Claire slid the door open. Judith turned quickly to Angel and whispered, "Do be charming this time, for my sake."
Angel gave her his most charming smile, and Judith did not feel particularly reassured. She entered the compartment after Claire.
"Judith!" one of the men inside exclaimed, standing up to greet her. "Wonderful to see you again," he said in his gently-Spanish and mostly-high-British accent as they kissed cheeks.
"And you, Alejandro," Judith replied. She turned to Sam, who also stood up. They, too, kissed cheeks, although rather more stiffly, and gave smiles that were not quite warm, although they earnestly tried.
Judith stepped back to include Angel in the small circle that had formed in the compartment, but before she could introduce him, Alejandro extended a hand enthusiastically.
"You must be Angel," Alejandro smiled, and Angel took his hand with the same warm geniality.
"Si. Es un placer conocerlo," Angel replied in excellent Spanish with a startling change in voice: a deep, smooth ease that Judith didn't think she'd ever heard before. She looked up at him, trying to hide her surprise. He winked at her so quickly she almost missed it.
"Ah, excelente, maravilloso!" Alejandro cried delightedly as they dropped hands. "The pleasure is mine, I'm sure," he said. "I've heard so much. But first thing's first: Sam tells me you've met, so I must skip over that for a brief moment to ask you a very important question." He leaned forward seriously. "Do you prefer red or white wine?"
Angel maintained an equal level of solemnity as he replied, "Red, as a rule." He gave a small smile and inclined his head, as if divulging a secret "...But I can bend rules for special occasions."
Alejandro grinned and then looked at Judith.
"Red is fine," she agreed.
"Excelente!" Alejandro said again. "I know just the one!" He turned away to place the order on his Palm. There was a long second of silence that drew taut with alarming speed. Judith was about to break it, but Angel was quicker.
"Mr. Cole," he said, extending a hand to Sam. "Good to see you again."
"Same," Sam replied, taking it. They shook hands firmly but quickly.
There was another long second.
"I hope you've been well," Sam said, breaking the moment this time.
"Quite," Angel replied, his voice still low and smooth with the charm she'd asked for-and was apparently getting. "And you?"
"Oh fine, fine," Sam nodded. The second dragged in into several more, the empty words they'd spoken hardly breaking it. When it had gone on a moment too long, several people at once suggested that they sit down-or otherwise made motions toward that idea-though no one said it loud enough to tell whose suggestion they all agreed to. After a bit of shuffling, they all found themselves comfortable on the long, cushioned benches; Judith and Angel on one, and the others across from them. Claire sat in the middle, entwining her hand with Alejandro's, her pale Irish skin contrasting gracefully with his darker Spanish skin.
"I didn't really get to talk to you at the wedding, Angel," Sam said before the silence could return. "What do you do?"
"I'm a consultant," Angel replied without missing a beat. Judith and Angel had talked briefly about what kind of answers Angel was going to give to the basic questions like that, and Angel had told her not to worry about it. Judith thought she'd had reason for wanting their answers to match in case they were asked separately, to which Angel had replied that the best way to lie was to tell the truth, and then had leaned in and started doing something to her ear that completely distracted her.
He continued now in a tone of such assuredness that Judith nearly believed it herself.
"I run a small business out of my home consulting on a variety of things. It's humble, but it pays the bills."
Sam asked, "What sort of things?"
"I'm a bit of a jack of all trades," Angel replied. "I spent some time as a private detective, a mercenary, a tutor..." He glanced at Judith briefly, since that was their story for how they'd met. "I picked up on a lot as a result."
"So now you consult," Claire finished as if it made perfect sense and was not at all vague.
Alejandro and Sam nodded in thoughtful agreement. Then Sam asked, a little hesitantly, "A mercenary?"
"For the good guys," Angel assured him.
"Right. Of course…"
"Forgive me, Angel," Alejandro said, giving Angel a look that was more curious than apologetic, "but you seem so young to have had three entirely different careers already. May I ask how old you are?"
Angel smiled and held up a hand in reassurance. "I get that all the time," he said. "It's just a combination of staying fit and keeping to a strict diet. That, and astoundingly lucky genetics."
Alejandro and Claire chuckled good naturedly. Sam, to his credit, joined, but halfheartedly.
"So Claire tells me that you fence, Angel?" Alejandro asked.
"Swording, yes," Angel replied. "Not fencing specifically."
"I see. What is your preferred weapon, then?"
Judith tensed. Calder had asked Angel a similar question once… Angel had replied, "My fist."
Angel smiled. "Whatever is appropriate. I have a small collection at home."
"Do you really?" Alejandro said delightedly. "I am a collector as well. My prize piece is a Chinese sabre from the Ming Dynasty called a piandao. I had to pay an arm and a leg for it, of course. My dear wife was not pleased with me." He smiled at Claire.
"No, she wasn't," Claire replied. "We were supposed to remodel the kitchen that year."
Alejandro turned back to Angel. "Tell me about the prize in your collection," he said. Judith gave an inaudible sigh. As far as she was concerned, Alejandro might as well outright ask who had the more impressive phallus.
"Nothing quite so rare as the piandao," Angel said, using the correct Chinese tone for the word. "I prefer swords that aren't so messy to clean up after." He let the sentence hang in the air just long enough before letting out a gentle laugh. Alejandro soon joined in, after the shocked and slightly worried expression gave way to relief. Judith chuckled and caught Claire's eye, who nodded once at her with a smile.
When he was done laughing, Alejandro turned to Judith and asked how William was doing.
"Wonderfully," Judith replied, beaming. She had been waiting for this question to come up. "It's a bit early, but he gave me permission to tell you…" Her grin widened. "He's going to be a father."
Claire and Alejandro let out joyful cries, and Claire stood to hug Judith as Alejandro reached behind her to shake Sam's hand, remarking that he should have ordered champagne instead of wine.
"Marvelous! Excellent!" Alejandro turned to his wife. "Claire, my dear, we're being left behind. We'd better tell Sanja to hurry, or we'll be the only ones without endless grandbaby pictures to brag about."
Claire nudged Alejandro with her elbow as she settled back in her seat and said to Judith, "Boy or girl? And when is Keiko due?"
"Girl, November 16th," Judith replied, her grin so wide it almost hurt.
"Look at you," Claire said, her grin catching on Judith's. "I wish I could have been there when you found out."
Claire certainly would have liked to be there. Judith's smile faltered as she remembered the combined horror and joy of the moment and wondered how to respond.
"She terrified at least half the pub," Angel told Claire. He was smiling, too: gently, but that was significant for Angel. "I think a couple people shattered glasses when they dropped them."
Judith looked over at him with surprise, but quickly caught on to the lie. "Did I?" she asked, putting a hand on her cheek to feign embarrassment.
Angel nodded once. "Calder was almost one of them, but I managed to catch it."
"Oh dear," Judith said. "Perhaps we should have met William elsewhere…"
Angel shrugged. "Marty threw in a round of free drinks. I wouldn't say no to that next time."
"Now, now, Angel," Alejandro said with a jesting quirk of his smile, "there can't be a 'next time' until we've had a turn, understand?"
Angel quirked the same smile back at him. "Pretty sure I'm not involved in that."
There was a light chuckle around the group. The wine arrived then, and the conversation for the rest of the ride drifted along in the same light tone until they arrived at the station an hour and a half later. It was remarkably easy.
The Maughans had sent their personal driver to pick them up at the station. It was a 20-minute ride to the estate, during which time Angel grew progressively quieter. Finally, just as they were pulling into the long driveway, Judith said,
"What are you thinking about?"
Angel turned away from the window to look at her. "Just remembering the last time I was here."
"Would those be good memories or bad memories?" Claire asked clandestinely.
Angel stared at her a moment. "Good memories," he said. Judith did not think that he meant it in the way that Claire did.
"That's a strange question, dear," Alejandro chuckled. "I would think that most memories of Avignon must be good, si?" He chuckled again. Angel smiled cordially in response, but it did not reach his eyes. He turned back to the window, and shortly they arrived at the entrance.
Angel stepped out and offered his hand to Judith. The sun had not yet set, but the entrance was east-facing and well-covered in case of rain. A shadow flitted around the corner of the stone building toward them and then seconds later a flock of birds chirped their way overhead to roost. Judith adjusted the shawl around her shoulders.
"What about the house invitation?" Claire suddenly murmured under her breath to Judith.
Angel stirred from his reverie. "Not a problem," he replied just as quietly, eyeing Sam, who was saying something to Alejandro. "I've been invited specifically by the owner."
Alejandro circled the car and offered his arm to Claire as Angel offered his to Judith, letting the driver get their small overnight bags from the boot. The staff would deliver them to their proper rooms. Sam led the way up to the door, their shoes crunching on the tiny smooth pebbles of the driveway. The door opened just before they could knock; seemingly of its own accord until it opened wide enough to reveal the butler.
Angel glanced down at Judith with a slightly raised eyebrow, and she responded with a smile that said, "Yes, I know…" After all, who had butlers these days? Well. Who had personal drivers, either?
"Bienvenue," the butler, André, said as he bowed them inside and took the men's coats.
André was of typical Mediterranean build: slightly taller than average with a long head shape, richly soft black hair and mustache, and an aquiline nose. His skin was a light olive tone and his eyes dark and kind. He was the sort of person Judith genuinely enjoyed making eye contact with when they spoke because his eyes belied his sincerity, goodwill, and lively interest toward his conversation partner. Not that they'd ever spoken in depth about anything, but it was the sort of thing that was immediately evident, and it soothed her.
"Merci beaucoup, André," Alejandro said, and took Claire's arm again.
Judith leaned in toward Angel and whispered, "This is the part where we impress ourselves with our multi-linguism by speaking to all the staff in their native tongue." Judith's French, along with most of the others, was middling conversational at best, but tonight, like everything else, she was allowed to pretend, so it counted as "multilingual." She smiled as she stepped back, and Angel smiled, too.
When André returned from the coat closet, Angel said something to him, not in French, but what sounded like Portuguese. Everyone stared at him in surprise, and when André replied with an attempt to maintain his solemn demeanor that still failed to hide his delight, Claire, Alejandro, Sam, and Judith's mouths fell open in shock. Judith had been coming here for decades and had never heard André speak anything but perfect French. Angel and André carried on a brief conversation before André fully became a butler again and announced in French that he would take them to the parlor now.
"He's Portuguese?" Alejandro asked quietly, stunned.
Angel raised his eyebrows. "Didn't you know? He says he grew up in Cascais. Lovely town…" Angel gave Judith a wink again and she allowed herself the smallest of grins, taking his arm as he offered it.
Everyone except Adele and Laurie had arrived and were having drinks when they entered the parlor. Judith and Angel made their way around the room, greeting people. Marietta and her husband Jack stood chatting with Eliza and Julian. Jack was a somewhat portly but genial man with hair nearly as dark as André's (though Judith now noticed for the first time one or two flecks of gray), looking in his suit like you might find him in an old Victorian-era drawing enjoying a cigar and poker.
Julian, on the other hand, was the newest member of the group, and also the youngest. He had married Eliza about ten years before and was several years younger than her. Judith wasn't entirely sure, but she thought he was about 46, though the perpetually youthful glint in his bright, icy blue eyes might have skewed her guess. He was a little shorter than the average man, lean, and his short black hair was combed back. He came from a starkly different background than the rest of them, having grown up mostly in foster situations. His education at the time was poor from lack of consistency and his personal prospects even poorer. He'd fathered a child that he had never met and dabbled in the drug culture of London, and then a close brush with both death and the law opened his eyes to the path he was on, and he worked hard to right himself. At first, he had been at a bit of a disadvantage in the group, being the newest member and the least educated among them. The difference showed more in his beliefs and values than it did in any of their interactions with him-Julian was well-liked, and none of them played the aristocrat game so heartily that there was prejudice. He had been welcomed in with his marriage to Eliza, and had learned the ways of their game so quickly, he now played it better than almost any of them.
As they were finishing introductions with Julian and Eliza, Georgiana and Viggo came over from greeting the Renatos and Sam to meet Angel. As he had with Eliza, Angel kissed the back of Georgiana's hand and she visibly melted, just a bit.
Georgiana was a bit like Claire in her love of theatricality, though where Claire was an extravagant Broadway show, Georgiana was an elegant opera. Where Claire allowed herself to be swept away by the story, Georgiana allowed herself to be swept away by the music; a single aria enough to overwhelm and satisfy her, where Claire preferred to be dazzled by the full company number with outrageous costumes and over-the-top sets. Georgiana looked like she could have been in an opera tonight, with the richly-toned reds and purples of her dress that brushed the floor and just enough sparkling jewelry to be staggering but not overwhelming. She looked nearly as young as Julian, but it was because she had several personal nutrition, exercise, lifestyle, spiritual, and emotional coaches to help her through the aging process.
Her husband Viggo, on the other hand, looked every bit his 60 years, though not worse for it. He also wore his age well, but because he embraced it rather than fought it. His hair was silvery where it was graying, but still black where it wasn't, and it was long-just past his shoulders-though Judith had noticed recently that he kept it tied back more than he used to, presumably to hide how it was beginning to thin. He was the kind of person who kept his back straight with dignity, but his eyes light with the kind of joyful messiness that only life brings. Having been through the tragedy of losing a child, both he and his wife lived the meaning of the concept behind the Japanese art of kintsugi: picking up the broken pieces of themselves and their family and piecing them back together in a way that made the cracks beautiful instead of ugly scars. It had taken them many years, and Judith had always admired them deeply for it, especially since she'd failed to do the same for her family.
It was a different situation, of course, and perhaps sometimes things were better broken into new shapes than refitted to the old. But those were thoughts for another time.
After answering enough questions that a change in topic would not seem evasive, Angel steered the conversation toward the estate and its history.
"Oh, yes!" Viggo answered Angel excitedly. "This property has a fascinating history. Let me give you the grand tour."
Though Judith would have loved to hear the history again, she probably could have given the tour herself—starting with its construction in 1726 and detailing each renovation and restoration it went through to date. Instead, she opted to stay behind and be social.
The groups shifted and reformed, and Judith found herself part of one with Georgiana, Julian, and Alejandro about the political issues of Argentina where one of Georgiana's daughters was now living. It soon diverged into Julian recounting a funny story of his recent trip to Japan—briefly interrupted by the arrival of Adele and Laurie—which somehow led to ancient Japanese martial arts and then to combat in general, when Alejandro repeated Angel's joke about the messiness of piandao swords on the train.
"He's an interesting man, Judith," Alejandro said. "He seems to have quite a broad range of knowledge. Well, I suppose if he tutored… You should have introduced us sooner; he seems to value intellectualism as much as we do."
"Mm, yes," Judith replied. "He would have made an interesting addition to your group. If you ever figure out a way to time travel, let me know and I'll introduce you sooner."
Julian laughed. "Unlikely, Judith. You would have to finish exploring all of time first."
Judith smiled. "Touché, Julian."
It was then that Angel and Viggo returned, and the conversation stopped to introduce Adele and Laurie to Angel. Adele and Laurie were the eldest of all the couples, having married and started a family later in life than the rest of them. Both were hardworking and solidly middle class: Adele a preschool teacher and Laurie a jeweler who owned her own tiny shop in the heart of Old Town. The trip to Avignon (usually preceded by several days elsewhere on the continent) was their one big spend of the year, which they saved and scrimped for fastidiously. Both had the warm, gracious plumpness of the kind of grandparents you would find in a Norman Rockwell painting, though their hair wasn't quite so white-yet.
When no one was looking, Adele squeezed Judith's elbow and nodded approvingly. As the conversations paused to reorganize and regroup, Judith leaned in and asked Angel what he thought of the house.
"I've been here before," he said quietly.
Judith blinked. "What?"
"I'm almost sure," Angel continued. "There wasn't a sunroom and the upstairs office was divided into servant's quarters. It would have been the late 1760's, I think. It was kind of new."
Judith raised her eyebrows, still not quite comprehending the incredible coincidence. "That would make sense," she said. "Do you remember who owned it?" But they were interrupted by the announcement of dinner, and they joined the party on the way to the dining room.
Dinner was superb, as usual. Judith was pleased that Angel was able to ask for his filet mignon "bloody," and thus able to eat something like his normal food. Angel entertained the group with one or two stories of his more crowd-appropriate adventures (modernized a bit), to everyone's delight, and debated graciously with Julian and Alejandro about the ethics of Ireland's stance on mandatory blood donation. When not engaged in conversation, Judith was stunned into silence. She'd never seen Angel so gregarious, save the night he'd hosted Bridge (and that was…well…quite different). She suddenly remembered what he'd said that night about acting the part and how at his age it was more that he let a side of himself show through, and she wondered that if this were truly a side of Angel's personality, why was he usually so cold and surly to strangers, and so tacit otherwise?
The main course was interrupted briefly when a gust of wind blew the candles out, surprising everyone, but one of the staff soon relit them and conversation hesitantly resumed.
"But the windows are closed…" Marietta said quietly beside Judith, and on her other side Angel turned slightly to look at Marietta. Judith swallowed uncomfortably.
"Do you have records of the estate's previous owners?" Angel suddenly asked Viggo, who sat to the right of them at the head of the table.
Viggo cleared his throat as he set down his glass of wine. "Of course. In fact, I have the list memorized," he could not help but smile at his own accomplishment. "Any particular family you're interested in?"
"The Gaudets."
Viggo raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Yes, actually. They purchased the estate not long after it was built and owned it until 1769, when the Aucoin family bought it. There are several portraits of them in the gallery."
A sudden whistle, like wind streaming past an open window, sounded somewhere in the house and everyone tensed. Viggo called a staff member over and asked her to check and make sure the upstairs windows were tightly closed.
Judith frowned and glanced up at Angel. 1769? "Do you know why they sold it, Viggo?" she asked.
Viggo looked at her for a moment, then sighed. "I wasn't going to mention it—it's hardly a proper dinner topic…" A door upstairs slammed and everybody jumped again. Viggo continued slowly, "You see, the bloodline ended very suddenly…" He hesitated.
Angel looked at Judith. "There was a massacre here," he said.
The entire room was dead silent, except for the slowly increasing whistle, and Angel and Judith stared at each other for a long moment.
"Quite right," Viggo said uncertainly. "Christmas Eve dinner; many of the extended family of the Gaudets attended…all were killed, and the perpetrator—or perpetrators—were never caught."
"I see," Judith said softly, and then turned coolly back to her food. She could safely guess that the uncaught perpetrator was currently sitting at their table, enjoying his host's food and wine. And that was an awkward enough thought without her own association with him.
The soul makes a difference, she reminded herself.
Everyone else began eating as well, though this time in silence. The whistling stopped.
"Dear," Georgiana said gently to her husband from the other end of the table. "Perhaps some music would be nice…"
"Excellent idea," Viggo said, and summoned yet another staff member over to find the hired band and tell them to start setting up, and in the meantime to start some music on the sound system. Moments later, a lively Bach piece started and people began to relax.
That is, until someone screamed.
"Good God, what was that?" Viggo stood up quickly, looking around.
"That came from upstairs," Angel said, also standing up slowly. "That person you sent to close the window…"
"I should go check," Viggo said, setting his napkin down beside his plate.
"I'll come with you," Angel said.
"And me," Judith stood up.
Angel looked at her. So quietly that the sound of Bach covered his voice to everyone but Judith, he said, "You might not want to."
"I'm fairly certain I do," she replied. Angel did not argue.
Julian and Sam also quickly decided to join them, and when it seemed like Claire was about to get up, Alejandro caught her arm and shook his head. A brief argument ensued, but Judith and the others were gone by the time it resolved.
The rest of the house was unusually dark after they left the dining room. Judith wondered if it was always like that and the staff only lit the rooms they used? When Viggo tried to turn on the lights along the servant's staircase by voice command, nothing happened.
"Curses," he said. "I thought they fixed that…"
Julian, who was right behind Judith, found the manual switch at the bottom of the stairwell, and pushed it. Nothing happened. Pressed together on the bottom few steps and looking apprehensively up into the complete darkness, Angel finally said,
"I'll go first. I can see pretty well…" He pushed past Viggo and Sam, whom Judith noticed was eyeing Angel with apprehension and-was that? yes-a little suspicion. Judith frowned at him. Sam caught her expression and quickly looked away, following Viggo and Angel up the stairs.
Though she couldn't see it, Judith knew that there was a short hallway at the top of the steps, off of which were four doors, evenly spaced. Once upon a time, they had been servants' quarters. Now, the two on the right led to the extra office, the wall between them having been knocked out many years ago, and the two on the left led to storage rooms. Instead of choosing the office, as would have been logical to check first, Angel made his way down to the furthest storage room, listened briefly, and pushed it open. It wasn't latched. Angel pulled in a breath.
"Oh my god," he said.