Page 39 of A Sham Betrothal
“Oui,” Grégoire replied. “Yesterday morning.”
Armand also answered in the affirmative, adding, “And Vivienne will be there as well. I will present you, and I hope you will come to adore her as I do.”
“And begin frequenting the jewelry shops on her behalf?” Basile could not help but tease.
“That privilege is mine alone,messieurs,” was Armand’s dignified answer.
Basile gave a smile which quickly fell. “Good. I shall need your assistance. This affair has blown out of proportion to a degree I did not expect.”
Grégoire took a sip of his wine, studying Basile. “You have always been able to manage diplomacy, intrigues, and all their complications. What has changed this time around?”
Basile set his palm on the silk padding of the armrest and slid it forward to grab hold of the solid wood at the end. He pressed his lips shut, finding it difficult to come to the point.
“I think,” he said, then paused as he swallowed over a dry throat. He tried again. “I think I fear for Sophie’s reputation. In the past, I only had to worry about my own.”
“You care for her,” Grégoire observed.
“Why do you not marry her in earnest if you worry for her reputation?” Armand asked, a hint of reproach in his voice.
“I asked her. In earnest. She refused me.” Basile’s voice broke softly on the last sentence.
Grégoire leaned back in his chair and lifted his eyes to the decorative scrolls on the window frame above thecurtains and let his gaze rest there, as though Basile’s emotions were too private to witness. Armand had no such qualms.
“Did you tell her you loved her, and that you cannot live without her?”
“Doucement,” Grégoire admonished with a lifted hand. “How do you know he does?”
“Any idiot can see it,” Armand retorted. “He’s been smitten with her from the first moment he laid eyes on her. Only, instead of wooing her in the proper fashion like any reasonable gentleman, he must go about with pranks and complications and dinners with the queen. Just tell her you love her.”
Grégoire brought his eyes to Basile, who suddenly found it all too much. It was true. He did love her and wanted desperately not to have to live without her. If only she would believe it instead of assuming he was proposing out of courtesy. But perhaps he could convince her. Perhaps he needn’t let her go.
Without thinking, Basile spoke the question that was foremost in his mind. “How does one go about convincing a lady of such a thing if she is determined not to believe it?”
Grégoire had a ready answer. “You must kiss her, of course.”
Basile shot him a look as he delivered a wry retort. “It did not work.”
“Ah.”
Armand leapt to his feet. “Give her jewelry!” The suddenness and banality of his answer made Grégoire laugh, and even Basile offered a smile. But Armand was not to be put off. “No. Give her the jewelry belonging to the marquisate. Did your mother not have a set? In rubies, I think. And the set is well known. You will, at once, silenceLa Bordenave and any whispers to the contrary of the engagement not being a true one. And you will convince your lady that you are serious.”
Basile brought his eyes to Armand. That might actually work. “I believe you are right.”
Grégoire set his glass down. “You will need an elegant gift for the queen, as well. A sapphire bracelet or some such thing. But she will find it natural for you to give the family set to your betrothed since this inheritance is passed down to each marchioness. You might even have the set cleaned when you go to choose the queen’s gift.”
“Excellent,” Basile replied, his heart lifting. A smile returned to his face. That was exactly what he would do. “It is a great shame Claudia will not be present at the dinner to see me gift it to Sophie. That would silence her. She once admired the necklace when my mother wore it and was naturally not pleased when she learned my brother would inherit it instead of me.”
“Oh, La Bordenave will see it,” Armand said. “She will be there.” Both Basile and Grégoire turned to look at him. “Vivienne told me. The widow has been making up to the queen, assuring her that she had no true allegiance to Madame Du Barry but has every allegiance to Marie-Antoinette.”
“That woman,” Grégoire said in disgust.
“Well, with so many witnesses, all of Paris will know my betrothal is real,” Basile said. “I will now only need to convince my bride of it.”
“Kiss her,” Grégoire said again.
“He’s done that,” Armand replied.
Greg shrugged. “It never hurts to do it again.”
