entire life and scolded himself constantly for them. Many of his colleagues ignored their vows of celibacy, and more than a few “friendships” had developed in seminary. Even bishops knew about these arrangements and entered into them. Yet Xavier could not bring himself to defy the church so openly. For every accepting curé or official, another might expose his blasphemy and ruin his chosen path.
The irony did not escape him. One group defied the law that they forced others to follow, another group used the church as a weapon to wield against enemies. Xavier disagreed with both. But that was nothing new. He always disagreed with Catholic hierarchy and tradition. Despite his reasoned outlook on other matters, however, Xavier could not turn that sharp intellect onto himself.
He wanted to be with Thomas more than anything, but did Thomas really seek that? Anguish. Bitter, aching, anguish engulfed Xavier. Why did he struggle with these feelings for Thomas? He groaned inwardly. Because they were personal. This was not about others or sacrificing for the good of mankind. This was all about Xavier and a secret passion, something he had often dreamt about—of lying with another man and feeling his strength overpower him with its protection. He longed to run his hand over tight muscles and feel coarse whiskers against his cheek. It was easy to fantasize in the dark. But could he ever realize this fantasy, or would it always be a mirage?
Xavier: Marcel Andre
26 May 1789 Morning
XAVIER LOOKED TWICE from his rectory window to see who approached. He squinted against the sun and confirmed that Catherine walked up the path. He closed his Bible and raced down the stairs.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, worried.
“Relax, dear brother. Are you running from Satan?” she teased.
“What brings you to my church?”
“Nothing horrible. Can’t I visit? I do need you but it’s nothing for you to worry about. Come with me—you are free, aren’t you? I have exciting news.”
“Where are we going?”
Catherine pulled him into the muddy streets. “I’ll explain on our way.”
“This isn’t about converting our home into a salon, is it?”
“No,” Catherine answered. “Not yet. It’s something different.”
Xavier pulled back and waited. What was she doing?
Catherine whipped around with a frown. “I need you, now more than ever. Come on.” She tugged at his arm but he refused to budge. “All right, I’ll tell you everything if you’ll at least walk.” She yanked at him until he followed slowly.
“I need a man,” she announced. “I know, it sounds dreadful, and when did I ever need some man to assist me? Not that I include you in that category, but damnable decorum requires some man to accompany me. Not just any man, actually. But I’ll tell you. I need someone from the family. I know Michel thinks he has the right to perform these functions but his attitude bothers me. So I came to you instead.” She glanced at him as they walked. “I realize you’re not the eldest, but you’re a priest, for heaven’s sake, and what more will society require? Michel will recover soon enough. Let’s see...” Catherine looked around before continuing down another road. “Oh, look, all these people. How exciting that most of them want to throw Louis into the Seine. Where was I? Oh, you, of course. I need your sanction.”
He stared at her, perplexed. “What on earth do you mean?”
“All right.” Catherine threw her arms up. “I need you to approve my marriage.”
“What? Are you mad? To whom?”
“To the most delightful man I’ve ever met. We’re going to meet him now.”
“Two days ago you flew into a rage at the thought of some man controlling your life, and now, suddenly, you pull me through Paris to some man I never met with the intention of having me sanction a marriage? I have no power in this matter. Have you lost your mind?”
Catherine stomped her foot and stopped in the middle of
The irony did not escape him. One group defied the law that they forced others to follow, another group used the church as a weapon to wield against enemies. Xavier disagreed with both. But that was nothing new. He always disagreed with Catholic hierarchy and tradition. Despite his reasoned outlook on other matters, however, Xavier could not turn that sharp intellect onto himself.
He wanted to be with Thomas more than anything, but did Thomas really seek that? Anguish. Bitter, aching, anguish engulfed Xavier. Why did he struggle with these feelings for Thomas? He groaned inwardly. Because they were personal. This was not about others or sacrificing for the good of mankind. This was all about Xavier and a secret passion, something he had often dreamt about—of lying with another man and feeling his strength overpower him with its protection. He longed to run his hand over tight muscles and feel coarse whiskers against his cheek. It was easy to fantasize in the dark. But could he ever realize this fantasy, or would it always be a mirage?
Xavier: Marcel Andre
26 May 1789 Morning
XAVIER LOOKED TWICE from his rectory window to see who approached. He squinted against the sun and confirmed that Catherine walked up the path. He closed his Bible and raced down the stairs.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, worried.
“Relax, dear brother. Are you running from Satan?” she teased.
“What brings you to my church?”
“Nothing horrible. Can’t I visit? I do need you but it’s nothing for you to worry about. Come with me—you are free, aren’t you? I have exciting news.”
“Where are we going?”
Catherine pulled him into the muddy streets. “I’ll explain on our way.”
“This isn’t about converting our home into a salon, is it?”
“No,” Catherine answered. “Not yet. It’s something different.”
Xavier pulled back and waited. What was she doing?
Catherine whipped around with a frown. “I need you, now more than ever. Come on.” She tugged at his arm but he refused to budge. “All right, I’ll tell you everything if you’ll at least walk.” She yanked at him until he followed slowly.
“I need a man,” she announced. “I know, it sounds dreadful, and when did I ever need some man to assist me? Not that I include you in that category, but damnable decorum requires some man to accompany me. Not just any man, actually. But I’ll tell you. I need someone from the family. I know Michel thinks he has the right to perform these functions but his attitude bothers me. So I came to you instead.” She glanced at him as they walked. “I realize you’re not the eldest, but you’re a priest, for heaven’s sake, and what more will society require? Michel will recover soon enough. Let’s see...” Catherine looked around before continuing down another road. “Oh, look, all these people. How exciting that most of them want to throw Louis into the Seine. Where was I? Oh, you, of course. I need your sanction.”
He stared at her, perplexed. “What on earth do you mean?”
“All right.” Catherine threw her arms up. “I need you to approve my marriage.”
“What? Are you mad? To whom?”
“To the most delightful man I’ve ever met. We’re going to meet him now.”
“Two days ago you flew into a rage at the thought of some man controlling your life, and now, suddenly, you pull me through Paris to some man I never met with the intention of having me sanction a marriage? I have no power in this matter. Have you lost your mind?”
Catherine stomped her foot and stopped in the middle of
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