“Yes, it was,” I echo. “I was the only royal he’d clued in, since you were my boyfriend. Neither of us has ever told anyone. I have no idea how Julian found out.”
“From my parents, no doubt,” Henri says. “Our mothers are friends.”
“Your parents knew?”
“Not until it was over.”
I stare at him. “Meaning?”
“You see, after I received your text message, the one in which you informed me you’d grown tired of me, I was a wreck.”
“Why didn’t you confront me about it?”
“Because I felt I deserved the punishment,” he says. “For a while, I’d been thinking of myself as a duplicitous scumbag by then. I was dating you while talking about toppling your family, for heaven’s sake!”
“You could’ve simply quit the anti-royal nonsense,” I mutter.
“I did.” He curls his lip. “In fact, within a month of receiving your text, I’d quit everything: my political beliefs, the silly rebel group, my family, my college in Pombrio, and Mount Evor.”
If only you’d reached out to me instead!
“When I told my parents I was moving to Dordogne and starting over, they were shocked,” he carries on. “They tried to stop me. During one particularly heated argument, I blurted out about my involvement with an anti-royal group.”
I feel my eyes bug out. “You did? Why?”
“So, they’d let me go.”
A recent image flashes before my mind’s eye. “I was staggered at how poorly your parents treated you in the meeting with them in Pombrio. I still think it was shabby, but… Knowing how devoted they are to the monarchy and to my family, your confession must’ve knocked them down.”
“I was never their favorite,” he says. “But, you’re right, after my confession, they became openly and unrelentingly hostile.”
“Corona Ducti, Fide Stabiles,” I quote the de Bellay motto. “Your parents, like your forefathers, take pride in being ‘guided by the Crown, and anchored by loyalty.’ To them, your misguided choices were an affront to the family honor.”
“No doubt.”
Suddenly, Henri’s expression shifts, like he just realized something. “I’m such a fool! That’s why you broke up with me—because of the tape Carlo showed you! The stuff you wrote in your text message was just a cover.”
“I’d seen you raising a glass to the fall of my family, behind my back,” I say. “Whether you really meant it or not, I couldn’t stay with you after that.”
“No, you couldn’t,” he agrees.
It’s disconcerting how lost and contrite he looks in this moment. His usual composure is gone, and his go-to poker face is malfunctioning. He appears profoundly shaken, diminished, and shameful.
It pains me to see him like this.
I check my watch. “It’s past seven. We should go back to the library before Audrey panics and snaps into ninja mode.”
He nods.
I turn around and speed-walk back to the château. He strides close behind.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
As Henri and I reenter the library, its familiar musty scent and rows of ancient books welcome us back. The house is quiet now. The cleaning crew must’ve finished their work and left. Audrey isn’t here yet. I imagine she’s still catching up on sleep. A part of me knows I should call and wake her up. I need all hands on deck for this last-ditch attempt to find the key, or at least a clue, before our departure for Mount Evor scheduled for Monday morning.
Tomorrowmorning.
But another part of me—a selfish part—wants to be alone with Henri after our intense exchange among the illegal grapevines. Both of us opened up and told each other things we’d kept hidden until today. Unfortunately, I know it in my bones he’s held back the true motives for his involvement with the anti-royalists. It had to be something deeper, something more visceral than “ideas” to justify the duplicity that made him hate himself.
