Amour: Historical Romance (Passion and Glory Book 1) by Samantha Kaye Page B
Authors: Samantha Kaye
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upon her shoe. Of course it was a snub, but everyone overlooked it. Nicolas glided over the slight, presenting himself to Julienne next, who did not hesitate to offer her hand for the ritual of greeting.
Madame de Salvagnac glanced at her eldest daughter with a thinly veiled scowl, as if this concession to the chevalier was unnecessary. The future Madame de Marbéville was also good at pretending, and contrived to take no notice of her mother’s preference. After greeting his future sister-in-law, Nicolas was introduced to little Éléonore. She was pretty and small with a fragile constitution but a heart and a smile as big as her elder sister’s. In greeting Nicolas, she also elected to take her sister’s, rather than her mother’s, example. Nicolas smiled down at her as he planted a gentle kiss on the back of her hand.
“I am exceedingly delighted to meet you, Mademoiselle.”
Éléonore beamed back at Nicolas, but was too shy to offer any spoken reply.
“Have you forgotten your manners? Say something to Monsieur d’Argentolle,” the baron prompted.
“Monsieur le Chevalier is exceedingly handsome!” Éléonore declared in youthful innocence, restoring the good humor of everyone but the baronne in a single stroke.
Nicolas used the respite of the moment to escort Sérolène to her seat, taking the remaining place next to the vicomtesse, all the while under the brooding visage of her aunt.
“I’m told, Monsieur d’Argentolle, you are addressed by your family as Nico, rather than by your given name,” the baron said, once everyone was seated again.
“That is correct, Monsieur. It is a sobriquet bestowed upon me by Madame de Blaise in my infancy, though Monsieur de Blaise still prefers my proper given name of Nicolas,” the chevalier explained.
“A father’s privileges must always be respected, I tell you, but Nico does suit you very well. How unfortunate that Madame de Blaise was unable to join us,” the baron offered, naïvely unaware it had been his wife’s intention to exclude both Nicolas and his mother from the invitation she had extended to the marquis and the comte.
“Madame de Blaise would have loved to have made the acquaintance of everyone, but she has been feeling rather unwell of late, and the doctors felt it best she not tax herself overmuch with travel,” the marquis replied.
Nicolas exchanged a questioning look with Francis. The marquise, Nicolas’ mother, was in her usual very good health, and so both rightly guessed that her exclusion must therefore have been entirely for other reasons. Both, of course, knew also what those reasons must have been.
“Well, how I look forward to meeting her, as I’m sure we all do, when the time comes,” the baron said.
Courtesy required the baronne to nod in agreement with her husband, though her own salon continued to be one of the principal refuges of the slanderers of the Marquise de Blaise. Hypocrisy was not altogether pleasant. But it was sometimes unavoidable. Necessary even.
The marquis steered the conversation toward more mundane matters. “We also look forward to receiving your family at our estate, Monsieur de Salvagnac. Might I also compliment you on the surfeit of rare beauty surrounding you? How blessed you are to be so well-favored.”
“We are indeed much favored, Monsieur le Marquis, in the success of my husband’s endeavors and in our family circumstances. Our happy garden flourishes because the roots are deep and strong and the shoots have been well-nurtured. They blossom of their own accord in the proper time, manner, and place,” the baronne answered for her husband, glancing toward Julienne with approval and pride.
Francis was appalled that the baronne had the temerity to respond to a question his father had asked of her husband. He chose to respond to the baronne’s statement himself, to prevent his father from taking offense, or showing it by the nature of his reply.
“Mademoiselle de Salvagnac is indeed a
Madame de Salvagnac glanced at her eldest daughter with a thinly veiled scowl, as if this concession to the chevalier was unnecessary. The future Madame de Marbéville was also good at pretending, and contrived to take no notice of her mother’s preference. After greeting his future sister-in-law, Nicolas was introduced to little Éléonore. She was pretty and small with a fragile constitution but a heart and a smile as big as her elder sister’s. In greeting Nicolas, she also elected to take her sister’s, rather than her mother’s, example. Nicolas smiled down at her as he planted a gentle kiss on the back of her hand.
“I am exceedingly delighted to meet you, Mademoiselle.”
Éléonore beamed back at Nicolas, but was too shy to offer any spoken reply.
“Have you forgotten your manners? Say something to Monsieur d’Argentolle,” the baron prompted.
“Monsieur le Chevalier is exceedingly handsome!” Éléonore declared in youthful innocence, restoring the good humor of everyone but the baronne in a single stroke.
Nicolas used the respite of the moment to escort Sérolène to her seat, taking the remaining place next to the vicomtesse, all the while under the brooding visage of her aunt.
“I’m told, Monsieur d’Argentolle, you are addressed by your family as Nico, rather than by your given name,” the baron said, once everyone was seated again.
“That is correct, Monsieur. It is a sobriquet bestowed upon me by Madame de Blaise in my infancy, though Monsieur de Blaise still prefers my proper given name of Nicolas,” the chevalier explained.
“A father’s privileges must always be respected, I tell you, but Nico does suit you very well. How unfortunate that Madame de Blaise was unable to join us,” the baron offered, naïvely unaware it had been his wife’s intention to exclude both Nicolas and his mother from the invitation she had extended to the marquis and the comte.
“Madame de Blaise would have loved to have made the acquaintance of everyone, but she has been feeling rather unwell of late, and the doctors felt it best she not tax herself overmuch with travel,” the marquis replied.
Nicolas exchanged a questioning look with Francis. The marquise, Nicolas’ mother, was in her usual very good health, and so both rightly guessed that her exclusion must therefore have been entirely for other reasons. Both, of course, knew also what those reasons must have been.
“Well, how I look forward to meeting her, as I’m sure we all do, when the time comes,” the baron said.
Courtesy required the baronne to nod in agreement with her husband, though her own salon continued to be one of the principal refuges of the slanderers of the Marquise de Blaise. Hypocrisy was not altogether pleasant. But it was sometimes unavoidable. Necessary even.
The marquis steered the conversation toward more mundane matters. “We also look forward to receiving your family at our estate, Monsieur de Salvagnac. Might I also compliment you on the surfeit of rare beauty surrounding you? How blessed you are to be so well-favored.”
“We are indeed much favored, Monsieur le Marquis, in the success of my husband’s endeavors and in our family circumstances. Our happy garden flourishes because the roots are deep and strong and the shoots have been well-nurtured. They blossom of their own accord in the proper time, manner, and place,” the baronne answered for her husband, glancing toward Julienne with approval and pride.
Francis was appalled that the baronne had the temerity to respond to a question his father had asked of her husband. He chose to respond to the baronne’s statement himself, to prevent his father from taking offense, or showing it by the nature of his reply.
“Mademoiselle de Salvagnac is indeed a
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