Page 99 of Love Beneath the Guillotine
“Us?”
He dipped his head a little closer. “Just give me a week. Give me one week, and if things don’t improve dramatically, we’ll leave.”
“Souveraine, I just got here.” Léon said, turning a cheek to look down the stairs. “I’m so exhausted. I just… I need a few days to rest.” Rubbing a hand nervously over the back of his neck. “Maybe just one week?”
“Fine,” Catherine said. “One week only.”
“One week,” said Souveraine. “Just for the streets to calm down. Then back to Reims. And we’ll get on with our life then, won’t we?”
Léon pulled Souveraine’s head against his shoulder rather than look into her eyes. She’d been through more than enough without him crushing that one last hope. “If that’s what youwant. A week from now, if you want to go, we’ll return to Reims. Together.”
He heard the crunch of Henry’s boots on the stairs and looked up just in time to see the disappointment on his face at finding Souveraine in Léon’s arms. She stepped back, embarrassed, turning to the dresser to hide her tears, while Henry looked to the floor, forcing a cool detachment over his features. “Did you find your room?”
“I think Émile wanted to show you mine,” Souveraine said by way of trying to make them both leave.
Catherine, fast behind Henry, called, “Émile, I need your help first. Seems Henry’s left his horses outside the stables, like an idiot. Will you help me bring them in?”
“Destroyer?” Émile cried, speeding down the hall, all other occupants of the house forgotten.
Henry stuck an arm out and captured him roughly to outrageous giggles. “Another hug.”
Both legs and arms were scrunched around Henry to the point of asphyxiation. Émile smacked hands onto his cheeks and pressed his nose into Henry’s just as he had Léon’s. “Can I ride Destroyer?”
“As soon as he’s had a rest. But will you brush him for me?”
“Yes!” He kicked himself down to the floor and flung down the stairs, Catherine yelling after him to slow down.
Léon and Henry felt the flash of Souveraine’s assessing eyes as she passed them to follow the others out.
Henry stuck out his pinkie finger, and Léon curled his own around it. “Please don’t leave me alone again.”
“Deal.”
Henry led him back downstairs and into a dark bedroom on the left of the landing. “This is my father’s room.” He lit a lamp on a sea of deep blue and cream. The bed, the lounges, the walls, the lot of it designed in rich and dark velvet, sat supple and softagainst the backdrop of silk wallpaper, in great contrast to the portrait of Henry’s father, which hung above the fireplace.
He didn’t look a thing like Henry. His brow was too long, his face too thin, the cheeks flaccid, the lips ineffectual and passionless. And the eyes were blue and piercing, with a starkness about them that seemed to chill the whole room. Léon looked to the enormous bed, and it was luxurious, but cold looking. Even the richness of the thick blankets, the surfeit of soft-looking pillows—any warmth seemed sucked away by those holes of eyes.
“But you won’t be sleeping in here,” said Henry, a soft smile provoking pink cheeks. “That’s just what you’ll tell everyone else.” He grasped Léon’s hand with a sly glance, and pulled him along to the end of the room, opening an adjoining door on paradise.
Here were the gorgeous walls he’d caught a glimpse of earlier. Complex tapestries of honeyeaters and flowers, all gold and gold on crimson. A huge four-poster bed with curtains to pull closed around themselves. Carpet that his toes sank into. A desk rich with the deepest mahogany and golden ornamentation. A table and chairs, a chaise longue… And something else… A trough?
“What do you think?” Henry asked. “Will it do for a week?”
A week. A week ofthis.
Henry’s room was half the size of his father’s, but the dark furnishings made it feel warm, hedonistic… It felt like heaven. It felt like Henry. “I don’t think I ever want to leave this room again.”
“That's exactly what I wanted to hear.”
Léon was against the wall, being kissed. He stole all the passion he could, just as quickly as he could, his hand lost in Henry’s gorgeously thick hair, tingling all over at the sensationof Henry’s fingers curling into him. Breathlessly, he whispered, “Are we… Does it lock?”
“It all locks. We’ll be safe. If you can keep quiet.”
“Henri, fuck!” Léon yelped at the bite on his neck.
“Not off to a good start,” Henry goaded.
Blushing deeply, Léon shoved him away with a laugh. “So this is…” He looked around, trying to think about something other than sex with Henry. “What’s that?” he asked, pointing to the enormous trough.
