Page 141 of Love Beneath the Guillotine
“Yes, but it’s not as though you love the English so very much, anyway.”
“I love one of them.” He kissed Henry’s cheek. “Two of them,” he added, exchanging a smile with Catherine. “But my point is, I don’t want to go anywhere either me or Émile are going to be called up to fight in a war. We’ve done enough. I want somewhere quiet.”
“All right,” said Henry, clearly a little dampened. To console himself, he added, “After the fighting’s all done, I’m sure America will be a brilliant country. Maybe ten years from now. By god, imagine it two hundred and fifty years from now. What an oasis.”
“I can see it now,” Léon tried to mollify him. “A land full of educated, enlightened people.”
“Sharing the wealth evenly, no poverty,” Souveraine added.
“Healthcare for everyone in a country that rich,” Catherine put in.
“Where men can love men, and women can love women, and everything in between,” said Henry.
“Where women can do what they like with their bodies and their lives,” Catherine went on.
“No executions,” said Émile, to a pat on the head from Léon.
“No hate,” said Henry.
“No racism,” said Souveraine. “Whatever that is.”
“Yes,” Léon chuckled. “Whatever that is.”
They all laughed, then sighed. “All right,” said Henry, “we’ll plan that for the very near future. I’m sure America will sort itself out any minute now. But until then…”
“That leaves England,” said Léon.
“But won’t they hate me terribly?” asked Souveraine.
“With good reason,” said Henry. “And you’re French too.”
Catherine slapped his arm, even if the joke was good natured. She took Souveraine’s hand up and said, “I won’t have you talk to my partner that way.”
“Your… What?”
“We’re together now,” Catherine informed him, her sly smile showing how much she enjoyed his shock. “Not just as friends, but the way you and Léon are.”
“What? Since when?” He sent Léon a look that was both accusatory and appalled, to which he received a half shrug from Léon.
“Since…” Souveraine looked warmly into Catherine’s clear and loving eyes. “I don’t know when. It took me a while to realise. But it was always there.”
“From that first day,” said Catherine.
“Hmm,” Henry huffed. “Okay, then. Okay.” It was a lot for Henry to accept. He hadn’t approved of Souveraine as Léon’s love interest, but evidently she wasn’t going anywhere. And he had come to like her. Somewhat. He supposed. If for no other reason than for the very good care she’d always taken of Catherine. And the more he thought about it, the more his heart softened on the matter.
Particularly when Souveraine then said, “I think the money from my bar should go some way to supporting us all. Léon, can you and Henri write to DuPont? Have him oversee the sale for us? And perhaps we can go into the same business over there. But…” She examined them all carefully, a note of worry about her brow. “Tell me, do the English drink much ale?”
Henry laughed. “I think we’re going to be fine.”
Léon grabbed his hand tight. “Very well. An inn. In England. Somewhere out of the way. And I shall chop wood. Do you have a great many forests?”
“At this point in time, we do.”
“Then that’s perfect. Somewhere green and pretty. The paradise you told me about so long ago.”
“Somewhere I can ride Destroyer,” Émile put in sleepily, his child’s heart set on this and only this amongst the many other plans for his future.
Léon’s heart stuttered in his chest. “Émile, I don’t know if we can… I…” He licked his lips. “It’s very expensive.”
