Amour: Historical Romance (Passion and Glory Book 1) by Samantha Kaye Page A

at table. But some things were inescapable. At least in her uncle’s house. Mealtime was one of them. Nicolas offered Sérolène a smile and his arm. The vicomtesse accepted both. They left their hiding place together and proceeded into the dining room by the rear doors, walking past the steward as if they had not a care in the world.
    “Mademoiselle la Vicomtesse de La Bouhaire! Monsieur le Chevalier d’Argentolle!” the steward announced with solemn formality.
    The steward cast an inquiring glance at the company his master’s niece was keeping. But Nicolas looked straight ahead, his gaze firm and unwavering as he escorted Sérolène toward the open place near the head of the table. The opinion of servants was of no concern to him at all. Sérolène’s smiled serenely on his arm, her deportment elegant and serene. Her presence in the room was palpable, enhanced by her imposing size and the pleasing manner of her gait, the way she seemed to glide rather than walk in her voluminous skirts, and the upright carriage of her head atop her long graceful neck. Nicolas watched the vicomtesse as much as he could without being seen to do so. She was simply exquisite. Her brow never furrowed in self-doubt. The fear of her uncle’s reproach for being so tardy to table seemed not to concern her at all. Instead, she exuded the natural confidence of a sovereign at her own court and not the expected anxiety of a young girl very late for an important engagement.
    Nicolas tried not to look too content at the manner of their grand entrance. He noted the way his father and brother observed him and felt as if he were escorting the Queen of France herself. His chest swelled with pride at having the honor of acting as escort, and his heart burned brightly, fueled by the favor of her secret affections. The vicomtesse curtsied very low to the assembled guests. Nicolas couldn’t recall ever seeing such a graceful supplication. He glanced at his father and his brother Francis, and knew they had been wholly charmed.
    Sérolène rushed to kiss Julienne on both cheeks. “Dear Uncle and Aunt, I beg you to forgive the lateness of my arrival, but I had the most awful trouble with my shoes. I heard the happy announcement just as I came in. Oh, Julienne, I’m so pleased for you!”
    Julienne received Sérolène’s wishes with warmth. They adored each other and were the closest of friends and confidantes. After embracing her cousine, Sérolène moved to stand by her uncle. 
    “Well, no matter, dear Niece. You are here now. That’s the important thing.”
    Sérolène was not surprised at her uncle’s clemency. Her uncle had always doted on her and the indulgence he displayed now at her tardiness was typical of his lenience. Next to Julienne, her uncle was the person most dear to her in the world. She waited by his side as the baron prepared to present her to his guests.
    “Monsieur le Marquis de Blaise, Monsieur le Comte de Marbéville. May I present to you my most charming and tardy niece, Mademoiselle la Vicomtesse de La Bouhaire.”
    The marquis greeted Sérolène with a low bow. “Tardy perhaps, Monsieur, but some things are well worth waiting for.”
    “ Indeed ,” the Comte de Marbéville concurred, with perhaps too much enthusiasm to suit his future bride, whose eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly.
    Sérolène curtsied to return the compliments, glancing towards Julienne to convey her apologies for having stolen so much of her cousine ’s moment. 
    “And may I in turn present to you my youngest son Nicolas, Chevalier and Vicomte d’Argentolle. Monsieur le Chevalier d’Argentolle, may I present to you Monsieur and Madame de Salvagnac and your soon-to-be belle-soeurs , Mademoiselles Julienne and Éléonore de Salvagnac.”
    Nicolas bowed with proper decorum before his hosts. The baron returned the bow as expected. Nicolas waited for the baronne to offer her hand to be kissed, but she pretended to be preoccupied with removing a blemish