“Raoul? Would you come in with me?”
His eyes were slits when he looked at her. “I think not, and you know why.”
“Please. I know something has been bothering you, but we can’t talk about it out here where people will see us.”
After a long wait he unbent enough to get out of the car. He followed her in and shut the apartment door.
“Why don’t you freshen up in the guest bathroom before we talk?”
While he did her bidding, she visited her own en suite bathroom and returned to the salon. He was already back and on the phone. The grimace on his face was chilling. A minute later he hung up. Their gazes collided.
“Is everything all right?”
“No. Pierre has had another blowup over a bad decision Jean-Marc made with a client about lowering prices. It’s the second time he’s done it. Pierre’s gone to my father about it and there’s going to be hell to pay.”
“Do you need to be there?”
“Yes. I’ll tell my father what I think should be done, but he’ll fight me on it like he always does.”
“I thought you were the head of the domaine.”
“He may be living inside a crippled, arthritic body, but there’s nothing wrong with his mind. My father’s a raging anachronism, still believing in the divine right of dukes. He resents his disability.”
“So he takes it out on you. What was his excuse before he was afflicted?”
Raoul rubbed the back of his neck. She doubted he’d ever been asked that question before. “That my grandfather was still looked to as the true head.”
“And now it’s the way everyone looks to you.” They stared at each other. “You rarely talk about your mother.”
“She’s lives for my father and what he decides. If she’s ever defied him, I don’t remember it. I’m sure she loves me and my siblings in her own way, but it has always been clear our father came first with her. I learned early that trying to appeal to her for something that went against my father’s wishes fell on deaf ears.”
On that note he started for the door. “We’ll have to talk later. I don’t know how long this will take, but I’ll call you.”
She followed him. “I’ll find a way to stay busy.”
He left without kissing her. Since leaving the cemetery his behavior had changed. For the time being she was helpless to do anything about it.
* * *
Raoul left her apartment and drove to the château. His parents’ suite was on the second floor in the opposite wing from his grandparents.
“Maman.” He kissed her cheek after entering their salon.
“Now that you’ve come, I’ll be in the garden.”
Maman was too thin, but with her strawberry blond hair and fine features, she was still attractive. He watched her leave the room like the good wife his father had trained her to be. Jean-Marc stood near the fireplace with a foul expression on his face.
Their uncle Pierre, filled with resentment to have to be in this situation at all, sat in a chair across from their father whose wheelchair had been rolled in. He couldn’t manage it alone. Josette and Paul sat on the couch.
Raoul lounged against the wall and looked at his father. “What is it you want to say?”
“Jean-Marc has undermined Pierre twice on prices to foreign buyers.”
“Because they’re too high!” his brother argued. In principle he was right, but the Vosne-Romanée wine region would always demand the highest prices.
“Did you hear that?” his father almost shouted. “This can’t go on. I won’t allow it. You said you had an idea.”
His father wouldn’t be happy, but Raoul had to try for all their sakes. “Forget what’s happened in the past. Jean-Marc has always been very good with people. He knows how to handle them. If you want my opinion, he should be working where he can do the most good.”