Before the Storm by Melanie Clegg

‘Don’t be angry with me, Sidonie,’ he said. ‘I don’t want us to have a row. I just wanted to see you.’
    She looked at him. ‘For what purpose?’ she asked. ‘I thought that it was absolutely finished between us and that we had nothing more to say to each other.’
    He frowned. ‘Is that what you think? Really? After everything that happened between us? I had rather thought that there would always be a bond between us.’ He turned then and petulantly stared out across the river, while Sidonie, well used to his moods remained where she was and watched his face. ‘Is it very wrong of me to want to see you again?’
    Sidonie laughed. ‘You have seen me several times over the last couple of weeks,’ she reminded him. ‘You are a frequent guest at Mrs Garland’s house after all.’
    The Comte shrugged. ‘That’s not the same,’ he said angrily. ‘There are always people there. That awful woman and her friends and those stupid girls. All of them watching me as though I am nothing but a piece of meat.’
    ‘Does that include Venetia?’ Sidonie enquired in a low voice.
    He considered this for a moment. ‘No.’ He sighed. ‘Venetia is different to the others. It’s not in her nature to make demands.’
    Sidonie leaned against the wall beside him. ‘Do you love her?’ she asked carefully.
    Jules turned to look at her, a rather shamefaced grin on his handsome face. ‘Love? No.’ He plucked a loose thread from his sleeve and cast it down into the water. ‘I’ve had her, you know,’ he said with a sidelong look. ‘She sneaks downstairs and lets me into her parents’ house at night.’ He peered at her, watching for a reaction to his words. ‘Does that startle you, Mademoiselle Roche?’
    Sidonie shook her head. ‘No, not at all,’ she replied. ‘I know you, Jules. Sneaking into the bedchambers of young ladies has always been your forte, has it not?’ She took a deep breath. ‘Are you going to marry her?’
    He laughed. ‘No. Why would I? Why marry someone who gives herself so freely? I wasn’t her first, you know. There is no great romance.’  
    Sidonie thought of Venetia and the way that she looked at Jules whenever he was nearby, her eyes full of longing and need. ‘She loves you,’ she said.  
    ‘I doubt it.’ Jules shrugged but Sidonie noticed that he was beginning to look uneasy. ‘She wanted someone to lay with her and I was happy to oblige. She’s just like me really.’  
    ‘If that’s the truth then why are you still here?’ Sidonie asked, ignoring him. ‘Madame la Duchesse went back to London last week and you didn’t go with her.’
    Jules sighed. ‘You never miss anything, do you?’ he said with a wry grin. ‘I had forgotten that about you.’ He turned and looked directly at her. ‘Fine, then. I stayed because I wanted to see more of Venetia. I may not love her, but I enjoy her company. Is that good enough for you, Mademoiselle Roche?’
    Sidonie smiled. ‘That is good enough. You know, Jules, life is generally easier if you tell the truth every once in a while.’
    ‘Spoken like a true governess,’ he replied with a laugh that reminded her for one heart stopping moment of the charming boy that he had once been. ‘And that may be true for your pupils but I think you will find, mademoiselle, that lying will always serve an adult much better than honesty.’ He was standing much to close to her now and before she could put out her hands to prevent him, he had leaned towards her and stolen a kiss.
    ‘How sad that you think that way,’ she said, calmly stepping away from him and pulling her red wool shawl closer about her arms. ‘How damaged you must be, Jules.’ Before he could reply, she turned on her heel and started to walk back the way that she had come without a single backward glance to see if he was following her.  
    The whole brief interlude had overset her horribly and she was conscious of her panting breath as she briskly walked back towards the