“Not from what I hear.” Bram clapped me on the back. “Annette was going on and on about it. Like she’d witnessed some magic trick.”
Ah. Annette. Of course. She would have seen Bram that morning for her arm.
“Will she be alright?” I asked.
Bram nodded. “I gave her some laudanum for the pain. In a few days, she’ll be back to her old self.”
“Good to hear.”
A short silence descended over us as the doctor tilted his head. “Is there something I can do for you, Mr. St. Aubert?”
“Emile,” I said automatically, scanning the area to make sure no one had overheard him. “Emile, please.”
Bram nodded, then watched me expectantly.
“It’s my day off,” I said, finding I was unable to meet his eyes. “I was thinking that if … I mean, if you can get away this evening—”
“Yes,” Bram cut me off, and I looked up, surprised by the delight in his voice. “This is perfect, actually. I have tickets to the opera. We could have dinner beforehand.”
“Are you sure? I mean, if you have other plans …”
“I assure you, I do not. I was to go with my father, but he was called away to tend to one of his patients and will be out all day, so he won’t be able to make it. This is an elegant solution.”
His smile was so dazzling that I stared at him for a moment. I probably had a stupid grin on my face, but I was so glad this was working out.
Bram glanced down at his watch. “I’ll be finished with my appointments by four. Shall I fetch you at the château then?”
“Please.”
“Perfect. It’s been too long since I’ve had a night out.”
“I look forward to it,” I said, stepping back and attempting to temper my excitement. I didn’t want to seem overeager and make this outing weird. It wasn’t as if there was anything romantic about it. We were new acquaintances hoping to enjoy one another’s company. I may have felt something stirring inside me for Bram, but it was a feeling I was used to suppressing: unrequited infatuation.
Bram offered me a final wave before turning up the walk to his house. I stood on the sidewalk watching him for another moment before I retreated to the château, feeling light and energized.
Stepping into the role of a servant was much more tedious than I’d expected. A distraction, an actual social activity, would be precisely what I needed to forget my troubles for the day.
I hadn’t eaten food with such obvious delight in a long time, even longer than I’d been away from La Vallée. I hadn’t appreciated what I’d had then, and the sophisticated food, paired with champagne, was a reminder of what waited for me in six months’ time. I only had to hold out until then, and I could return to this luxury.
Unless I uncovered the Montoni family secret, I reminded myself. Then I may not have to wait such an interminable amount of time to return to a lifestyle more befitting me. I still wasn’t sure I was capable of blackmail, but if Montoni had compromised himself in such a way that hecouldbe blackmailed, then it wasn’t as if I would be putting the screws to an innocent undeserving of it.
By the time we left the club, the day had already progressed significantly, and it was a long carriage ride from Saint-Baldolph to the opera house in Voiron. We talked about Bram’s business and his family, while I spoke about working for Montoni and his family, and the servants I interacted with. I tried to press Bram for information on Montoni, but all I was able to discern from his vague responses was that he wasn’t fond of the family, although he didn’t disclose why. I deflected any conversation of my own family by mentioning that they were deceased, a clear signal to Bram that the subject was to be tabled for now.
Near to Voiron, the roads darkened quickly, and we wordlessly watched the sun set from the carriage. Bram scooted nearer to me to get a better view from our window, and I stilled at his closeness, inhaling the scent of soap and something herbal and clean, like basil. “There’s nothing quite like a sunset in the countryside,” Bram said. He leaned over me, eyes focused on the sun, bleeding brilliant magentas and streams of marmalade over the darkening landscape.
I tried to watch the sunset, to observe the beauty he found outside our window, but my eyes kept sliding to Bram, his strong jaw, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed. He was so beautiful in his clear delight that I wanted to lean forward and kiss him. Or maybe run my hands through the curls of his hair. Something. But then his eyes slid to mine, and I ducked my head, embarrassed.
“It’s a … fine sunset,” I told him, offering a smile. I cleared my throat and scrambled for something to say before the silence became awkward. “So, this opera we’re going to see. Do you know anything about it?”
Bram’s eyes sparkled. “Oh, yes. It’sFaust.Do you know it?”
“I’ve heard of it. A man makes a deal with the devil?”
“That’s the one.” Bram turned in his seat to face me better, as if he couldn’t contain his excitement. “In Paris, at the Palais Garnier Opera House, a ghost is dictating who will perform in the lead soprano role. It’s a sensation, and now all of the opera houses are playingFaustbecause of it.”
“Rather morbid, isn’t it?”
Bram chuckled. “But you have to admit that it makes for a compelling story. What marketing genius.”
