Page 31 of Liaison with the Champagne Count
It was clear, too, that hisoncleknew she wasn’t invited and he was expecting Julien to keep the secret. He was not to tell her. That was the dilemma he chose to focus on as he rode home. Did he tell Emma? It felt unfair and dishonourable to decide her fate without giving her a chance to defend herself. The consortium was casting her out without even meeting her, judging without even hearing her brilliant ideas for the future of marketing wines. These were ideas that all of them could benefit from. One didn’t need to be avigneronor an expert blender to be a good marketer. She would be an asset to them if they would give her a chance.
Why the hell did he care so much? She’d made it clear what she thought of him. She stood in the way of his family attaining their ancestral lands. He ought to want to see her pack up and leave, to have things go back to how they’d been with Sir Garrett—a few letters a year and a yearly visit to check in. But he found it was the last thing he wanted. What he wanted was for her to stay and fight. If he kept this meeting from her, it would be one more thing she could add to the list of sins against him, one more secret he’d kept. It would prove that he was everything she thought he was.
If he told her, she would go to the meeting and hisonclewould know he’d chosen her side. The cost of that would be great. To lose hisoncle’s trust, hisoncle’spride in him, was no small thing to Julien. Hisonclewas all the family he had left here. He’d hardly seen his cousin and aunt after he’d left England. By contrast, what did he gain by telling Emma that would be worth that? Would she thank him for telling her about a meeting meant to drive her from Cumières? Would she understand what this act would cost him? Would it be enough to earn her respect? Her trust? Her love?
Does it matter?his conscience whispered.Does it matter what you gain or lose? You need to do the right thing regardless of cost.She did not ask for this.She did not ask to be thrown into the midst of your family drama. All she did was come here to heal and start a new life, a new life that youroncleand the consortium want to make impossible. She has no ally but you. You say you love her—is keeping the meeting a secret how you show the woman you love that you care for her, even if she doesn’t love you back?
Emma’s last words to him whispered.‘I’ve known the love of a good man, and this isn’t how love feels.’Damn, but he hated it when she was right. He left his horse at the stable and went to find her, his decision made.
He didn’t have to look far; she was in the foyer giving directions to footmen busy with ladders and pulleys hoisting a gigantic crystal chandelier. ‘What is this?’ For the first time in days, Julien felt a smile creep across his face.
She turned and her own smile faded at the sight of him. That hurt. She’d not forgiven him yet. ‘My crystal arrived. I hadn’t had time to get the chandelier up yet. But I definitely wanted it up for the gala.’ He wondered if the pronouns were intentional.I wanted. A reminder that she was in charge here. This was her home. The gala was her event. ‘It’s only three weeks away.’ Julien wondered if after tomorrow there would evenbea gala. If there was, would he be invited? Would he even be a part of her life come June? His heart cracked a little further at the thought of being sent into exile, from this place, from her.
‘It’s beautiful.’ Julien raised his gaze to the chandelier being slowly lifted.
‘We bought it on our honeymoon from Baccarat. Garrett was impressed with his work. It’s not old, of course. His son’s wife thought it too nouveau for Oakwood Manor. She always hated it. But Garrett thought—’
Julien didn’t want to hear any more about Garrett. Garrett, the good man she’d been married to, the man who knew what love was. ‘Let me help,’ he interrupted, taking the stairs two at a time to assist with the pulleys.
The chandelier had granted him a reprieve, one last opportunity to rethink his decision, but at last the big chandelier was securely in place and everyone had a moment to come ooh and aah over it. The servants scattered, talking excitedly, and the footmen removed their ladders. Julien could put off his conversation no longer. ‘May I have a word, Emma.’ She gave him a cold quirk of her dark brow at the familiarity, but he refused to call her Madame Luce, refused to take a step backwards. They’d been lovers, and if it were up to him they’d be lovers still—more than lovers.
‘You may say anything you like. I trust the grapes are progressing well. It looks greener and greener out there every day,’ she said crisply, politely.
‘In private,’ Julien replied when it became clear she meant to have this conversation in the foyer where anyone could hear. ‘Perhaps in the sitting room.’ He gestured to the room closest to the foyer.
Once inside, he closed the door. ‘I have some news. It is not pleasant but I thought you should know. The growers’ consortium is meeting tomorrow. You should be there.’ He’d done it. The secret was out. Hisoncle’s trust in him broken.
‘Of course I should be there.’ Emma’s response was tart. ‘I should have a seat on the board as one of the larger growers in the area.’
‘There are other reasons you should be there. They mean to shut you down. Not literally,’ he explained, ‘they just mean to make it impossible for you to carry on without their support, support they plan to withhold.’ He watched Emma stoically take in the news. Was this how she’d looked when she’d learned about Garrett? Staunch, pale, the only sign of distress being the clench of her hands in her lap, her knuckles white.
‘On what grounds? They’ve never even met me,’ she countered.
‘You’re an outsider and you’re in the way of the goals of some consortium members,’ he admitted plainly, although it hurt to do so, hurt to see the betrayal in her eyes.
‘I suppose by that you mean you and youroncle.’
‘Myoncleis the one leading the charge, you might say.’ Then he added, ‘Myoncleis losing money. Madame Clicquot let it drop that you were at the reins here and now some of his—our—investors with thecouteau champenoiswant to pull out due to a lack of confidence,’ he explained briefly.
She fixed him with one of her grey stares. ‘I suppose I could make it all right though if I agreed to marry one of the consortium. That might restore their confidence in what was happening here.’
‘No, not at all.’ In all of his imaginings he’d never once thought of that, of applying public pressure in order to attain her hand. ‘Why would you think that?’
‘Because I can think of no other reason why you’d tell me about a meeting I wasn’t invited to and at which men will attempt to decide my fate. I am either to marry and become acceptable through my husband’s reputation, or I am to be pushed out because my own is lacking. Either way, you win. You get what you want.’ She glared at him, ‘Don’t celebrate too soon, though, because I don’t go down without a fight.’
He wanted to yell that he didn’t want a fight, that all of this was for her, that he’d taken a huge risk in telling her, that he’d jeopardised his relationship with hisoncleforher. He wanted to grab her by the arms and look into her eyes and tell her that what he wanted was her, that he didn’t give a damn about the chateau. Not any more, not when he’d seen the cost, not when it meant losing her. But Julien did none of those things. She’d made it clear she would not believe his words. He could only hope she’d believe his actions. He’d unburdened himself completely. Would she understand what this would cost him when she showed up at the meeting tomorrow? Because she would be there. He knew Emma Luce and she could not be in possession of this information and stay away.
Chapter Twenty
Emma exited her carriage and smoothed her skirts, taking in the landscape So, this was the Archambeau farmhouse and the ancient Archambeau land. It commanded a view of the Marne in the distance, and it was neatly kept, hectares filled with rows of grapes spreading around the house in all directions. Even the drive was lined with grapes. One had to go past them to reach the house.
The drive was full of carriages, and grooms walked the horses of those who’d chosen to ride instead of drive on this glorious May day. She was definitely in the right place. Or the wrong place, depending on how one looked at it. She’d come here to confront those who would keep her down and lock her out. It was a place where she was not wanted and yet after what Julien had told her last night, how could she not come? She had yet to decide how she felt about Julien’s disclosure. Had it been done as a bid to win back her trust? Or had it been bait to a trap? Did he want her to come because he knew the odds of her succeeding here were slim? Had he told her as a way of setting her up to fail once and for all?
She didn’t want to believe it, but she had learned the hard way about the costs of naïveté. She may not want to believe it, but she had to consider it. The reality was she was walking into a den of her enemies, and yet she could not stay away. From the house, the camaraderie of low voices spilled out, punctuated by male laughter and chuckles, a subtle reminder that she was outnumbered here and in uncertain territory.
Well, she’d been outnumbered before by the likes of Amelia St James and her wicked coterie. But she’d triumphed. She’d risen above their pettiness. She’d been the one to make a love match with Garrett Luce and when Amelia and the others had looked down their unwed noses at the two of them the following year, Garrett had been willing to bulldog anyone who was out of line.
Emma walked towards the house, making sure to lift her head and square her shoulders. Today, she was on her own. She’d have to be her own bulldog. She couldn’t even count on Julien. What could she expect from him? Would he support her? Why should he support her after the way she’d spoken to him on the last two occasions? She’d been rough with him, blunt and honest, but she did not regret the words. They needed to be said. If they weren’t, they would fester.
