There was another two hours of sun the following morning. While surveying the vineyards, Jules saw, as Aurélien had the day before, that the successive downpours hadn’t damaged the grapes. Fog was clinging to the vines in the damp dawn, and the soil remained muddy. Jules thought about the laborers and all the problems inherent to the harvest. He knew that, for all his talk, Aurélien counted on him. He felt deeply responsible for the estate and knew that this wasn’t the time for matters of the heart. And so he tried not to think about Laurène, though she kept creeping back into his mind, muddling his thoughts.

He’d never had any trouble getting what he wanted from women. As a matter of fact, he usually got much more than he wanted. He conquered them effortlessly. He made love to them well because he loved it, and then promptly forgot about them. On the rare occasion that a woman tried to resist his charms, he gladly played the game and did everything he could to seduce her. But Laurène was a totally different matter. After carefully avoiding her for so long, Jules had finally admitted to himself that he loved her. In hindsight, he realized how ridiculous he’d been to think that all he had to do was tell Laurène and have her fall into his arms. He’d figured that she was attracted to him all along, and he’d been wrong. “You only understand what you want to understand,” Aurélien had told him the previous day—he was right.

If any other woman had preferred Robert over him, Jules would have been indifferent, as it wasn’t a matter of pride for him. But in the case of Laurène, he was stunned by how possessive he felt. He’d easily put up with Aurélien’s hurdles, thinking it was only a question of time before they came down. A vague rivalry with Aurélien hadn’t bothered him, but the thought of having to fight with Robert made him angry.

He shivered since he hadn’t moved in ten minutes. For a man who didn’t want to think about women, he was neck-deep in it. Slowly, he began to walk alongside some vines, forcing himself to examine them. He shrugged at the thought of his own stupidity.

“So you went and fixed what I screwed up?” an angry Alexandre barked from behind him.

Jules was rarely caught by surprise, and the fact that Alexandre snuck up on him like that showed how deep in thought he was. He turned to his brother and forced a smile.

“So?” Alex insisted.

“Yes, I did,” Jules said. “We couldn’t leave things like that. I went because Aurélien asked me to. But I’m not blaming him. The deal had to be changed anyway.”

Alexandre, hesitant, stared at his brother.

“How can you win with Amel?” he asked, both angry and baffled.

“We’re the ones doing him a favor, Alex. He needs us. Our wines, they’re great. You should never feel like a debtor with guys like Amel. If you’re sure of yourself, you obtain what you want. I actually told him that I was going to do without him from now on.”

“You’re not going to deal with him?”

“I’m not going to deal with any distributor.”

Alexandre seemed alarmed. His brother’s ideas always caught him off guard.

“It’s the way of the future,” Jules said. “In the meantime, I’m having a problem with logistics for the laborers. You have to work out getting us the bus to transport them. …”

They talked for a while, as equals, before heading for the Jeep Jules had left on the road. The wind was rising, and they spotted the first clouds. The rain began to fall as they reached the garage. Aurélien was waiting for them there, and he rushed over to Jules.

“Damn!” he said. “See that? It’s coming down again!”

It was a cry from the heart, and the brothers almost burst out laughing. They all ran to the house—the sons surrounding their father—and took refuge in the office. Laurène joined them a few minutes later, and Aurélien dictated a few letters to her. Jules was trying to read a financial statement, but couldn’t concentrate. He kept raising his head, peeking at Laurène. She was sitting on the edge of a chair, her legs crossed, her notepad resting on her knees. She was wearing a miniskirt and a tight T-shirt. Jules could see her sideways, her slightly opened mouth revealing small, straight teeth. She had freckles and her eyelashes went on forever.

He swallowed hard and forced himself to try to study the statement again. He couldn’t remember wanting something as badly as he did now, with no way to obtain it. He flipped a page with a quick gesture and continued reading. Jules felt Aurélien’s eyes on him, and he turned his head from Laurène to his father. He read on Aurélien’s face a mixture of irony and bitterness. In silence, they glared at each other for a while.

“You’re too harsh, Aurélien,” Jules muttered, setting the document on the desk.

Laurène was waiting, pen in hand, watching them both. Jules stood up and buried his hands in his pockets.

Aurélien said, in an aggressive tone, “So, do you agree with the accountant’s report?”

Certain that his son hadn’t read a single column of figures, Aurélien didn’t expect a response to his jab.

“No, I don’t,” Jules shot back. “His total debt ratio isn’t taking everything into account. The interest on the loan for the Massey, for example. I’ll talk to him later.”

Stunned, Aurélien couldn’t come up with anything to say. He let Jules leave the room, wondering how his son was able to do two things at the same time like that.

Jules worked relentlessly the entire morning, exasperating Lucas with all his demands. Set on relegating Laurène to the back of his mind, he imposed on himself chores he could’ve given to one of his employees. He let Fernande know that he’d have no time for lunch and decided to go to Margaux to pay the accountant a visit. When he came back at two in the afternoon, he wanted to go riding while Aurélien was having his nap. He was surprised to find Laurène and Dominique waiting for him by the stable.

“Hello, girls,” he said as he went by the sisters, without glancing at them.

They caught up with him in front of Bingo’s stall, and he had to turn to them both, intrigued by their insistence. Laurène was first to speak.

“Dominique has a few things to tell you,” she said.

Jules was caressing his horse’s head. He waited a bit before saying, “Okay, I’m listening. …”

Dominique looked embarrassed, and Jules was increasingly curious to find out what was on her mind.

“It’s about Alex and Mazion,” she finally said.

“Oh, I see.”

Jules leaned against the stall’s wall.

“Let me guess,” he said. “You’d like for Alex to leave Fonteyne and you want my blessing, right?”

Dominique avoided giving a direct response.

“You and Aurélien have to understand that … that—”

“What? Don’t bother. I know exactly what you have in mind. You can talk to me about it, but Aurélien won’t listen to you for a second.”

Upset by Jules’s scornful tone, Dominique shot back, “You’re the one running the show around here. You think I’m too stupid to know that? What good is Alex to you anyway? You don’t need a foil, do you?”

Jules produced a contemptuous smile.

“You don’t have very much respect for your husband, do you?” he said. “If he has a problem, why doesn’t he talk to me about it?”

“You don’t give a damn about our problems!” Dominique shouted.

Jules stopped smiling and planted his eyes on his sister-in-law.

Laurène decided to intervene: “In Mazion, he’d have a chance to prove himself. He’d feel more useful than he does here. It’d be a good solution.”

Jules straightened. He was the angry one now.

“What business is that of yours?” he said. “You came with Dominique for moral support? Who do you think I am? Do I really look that dumb to you?”

Instinctively, Laurène took a step back. The deep misunderstanding that already existed between them was only getting worse.

Jules added, this time more calmly, “Mazion is going to be split in two eventually. And that’s too small for two bosses.”

He looked at Dominique exclusively and continued, “The day Laurène decides what to do with her life, we’ll see. Then I’ll try to convince Aurélien. If Alex wants to take care of everything someday, I promise that your father won’t have to worry about a thing. But if Laurène marries someone who wants to run the vineyard, Alex will be glad he stayed at Fonteyne. You see, it’s simple. In any case, as far as I know, Antoine is in no hurry. He can still take care of his land.”

Dominique had listened closely to Jules, but Laurène, upset, had stepped away.

“Did Alex send you?” Jules asked Dominique.

Embarrassed, she shook her head.

“No,” she said. “And if he knew what I was doing right now, he’d hit the ceiling. But I know him and I know what he’s thinking.”

“You want to make him happy in spite of himself?”

Dominique, disconcerted, didn’t know how to reply.

“So if I understand correctly,” Jules added, “before I try to convince Aurélien, I’d have to talk Alex into leaving? And all that for something that does me no good?”

He was smiling, suddenly relaxed, and Dominique understood that this was the end of it. She appreciated the honesty he’d just displayed.

“I’m going,” she muttered. “I have to take care of the children.”

He turned around and stepped inside Bingo’s stall. He was vigorously brushing the horse when Laurène came over. She asked, almost timidly, “Are you still angry?”

“No,” he said. “It’s fine. You stick up for your sister and father, and I’ll protect Fonteyne and Aurélien.”

He tossed the currycomb at the young woman’s feet and continued to groom Bingo.

“Will you teach me to ride one day?”

Laurène’s soft voice made Jules melt inside.

“Right now if you want to,” he said.

He glanced at her sideways. She was wearing jeans, sneakers, and a T-shirt.

“Want to?” he repeated.

“You’ll lead the horse for me?”

In a few seconds, Jules saddled and bridled Bingo, then led him out of the stall.

“Come over to this side,” he said to Laurène. “Bend your leg … No, the other.”

He helped her hop onto the saddle, then put a hand on her thigh to direct her foot into the stirrups, which he had shortened. Laurène let him take care of it all. She was tense and Jules figured she was afraid. He raised his eyes and met her gaze. His attraction was so obvious it troubled her.

“Let’s go,” she said, her voice a bit shaky.

With a click of his tongue, Jules made the horse slowly walk in a circle around him. Laurène was very stiff.

“Try to relax,” Jules told her.

He then made Bingo trot and Laurène started to laugh, bouncing on the saddle, holding on for dear life to Bingo’s mane. She asked him to stop after going around Jules three times. As she dismounted the horse, she wound up against Jules. She was hot. Spontaneously he took her by the shoulders and had to fight back the urge to kiss her. But she stood on her tiptoes, planting an awkward kiss on his cheek.

“Thank you,” she said with an embarrassed smile.

He still wouldn’t let go of her and she felt panicky, stuck between Jules and the horse.

“Please?” she said.

He stood aside, reluctantly, unable to decide whether he should risk being turned down once again. He hopped onto the saddle, without the help of the stirrup, exasperated with his own cowardice. Laurène felt just as frustrated and uncomfortable as he did.

She joked, with the clumsiness that characterized their relationship: “You almost lost control of yourself, just now!”

Bingo was about to dart, but Jules held him back.

“If I’d lost control, we’d be in his stall, in the hay!”

Incredibly offended by Jules’s brutal tone, she shot back, losing control herself, “That’s what you do with women in general? No dates, no nothing, just a roll in the hay? Maybe we can do that sometime. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

“Lucky for you,” Jules said, “Aurélien taught his sons well.”

Perched on his horse, he towered over Laurène. Having to raise her head high to look at him, she hated herself for having provoked him and was dying for him to get off Bingo and hold her in his arms. She found it unbearable to still love him after he’d ignored her for so long.

Jules found the courage to slowly go down the driveway without giving Bingo a whack on the rump to make him take off. It had been the first time in his life that he’d felt so vulnerable and at a loss with a woman. He thought Laurène was driving him crazy, and that he needed to get ahold of himself. He needed to be himself again. When he was far enough from Fonteyne, he let Bingo run.

Laurène remained by the stable for a while, miserable and indecisive. She had no idea where she stood. Her lunch with Robert the previous day had been pleasant, since at least with him she managed to be comfortable, whereas every time she got close to Jules, she felt unhappy and clumsy. He paralyzed her, but she still went out looking for him ten times a day, in spite of herself. And when she did find Jules, all she could come up with were stupid things to say that would inevitably lead to an agument every time. She had an unbearable sense of missing out on everything, of being overwhelmed.

The air felt oppressive. Another storm was on its way. Sweaty, Laurène went over to grab the hose someone had left on the house’s front lawn. She splashed her face and, enjoying the water’s coolness, wet her hair. Then, laughing, she let the water fall all over her shoulders.

“You always shower in your jeans, young lady?”

She turned to Robert and directed the hose at him. He barely moved out of the way, ran to the faucet, and, still laughing, turned the water off. He then went over to Laurène.

“I just saw Jules go by on his horse. They looked terrific. Do you ride?”

“No, never.”

She sat on a fence and he offered her a cigarette, which she accepted.

“This is the time of day when Fonteyne is dead,” Robert said. “I hate everyone’s habit of napping in the afternoon.”

He was scrutinizing Laurène, fascinated by the T-shirt clinging to her skin. Laurène noticed his gaze and began to laugh nervously.

“You’re very pretty,” he said, sitting beside her.

“Thank you.”

He put an arm around her shoulders and she didn’t resist.

“Men must tell you that all the time. I should’ve been the first and told you when you were a little girl. You had pigtails, didn’t you?”

“Yes, and you used to pull on them!”

He had beautiful green eyes, as well as a charming smile that he knew how to use. He was attracted to Laurène because she was both gorgeous and pleasant. He figured she was shy and somewhat inexperienced, and so he couldn’t take her to a hotel in Bordeaux or to his own room here. Excited by a situation that made him feel like a young man again, he tried to come up with a solution and quickly had an idea. He jumped off the fence, grabbed Laurène’s hand and led her to Bingo’s stall, saying he wanted some shade. Glancing at the stall’s floor, he noticed that the hay was clean and, slowly, tried to take off Laurène’s T-shirt. Stunned by Robert’s move, Laurène stepped back.

“Are you crazy, Robert?” she said.

He smiled and tried to kiss her. His ardor was such that she began to feel reckless herself.

“I want you,” he said in a low voice.

“But not here!” she said.

“Yes, here. And now.”

This time, she didn’t resist when he took her T-shirt off.

“There’s no spot quieter at Fonteyne than here,” he said.

He was smiling like a kid, and she relaxed a little.

“What if Jules comes back?”

“He’s not going on a ten-minute ride, is he? Besides, we’d hear him from a good distance.”

She was half-naked, and he took a step back to get a look at her.

“You’re so beautiful,” he said in a natural way that disarmed her.

He took her in his arms again. He was very experienced with women and knew how to approach this one.

As for Laurène, it had been too long since she’d last made love, and for too long, she’d been ignored. She decided not to ask herself any questions and just enjoy the moment. She was young, and she was attracted to this thirty-six year old man that was undressing her.

Jules got off his horse. Bingo had just lost a horseshoe and was now limping. The blacksmith lived far away, and Jules figured he probably wouldn’t be able to come for a couple of days. He unsaddled his horse and set the saddle at the foot of a tree. He then took Bingo to the field and let him loose.

Robert had put his jeans back on, but he lay down beside Laurène. She was feeling wonderful and didn’t want to move, much less get up and get dressed. She looked at Robert, grateful and fulfilled by the pleasure he’d given her, and suddenly felt liberated from many things.

Robert leaned on his elbow and said, “Too bad we can’t smoke on the hay.”

He ruffled Laurène’s hair. Outside, the air was getting cooler and the wind had risen. She shivered.

“Aurélien’s nap must be over,” she muttered.

She sat up and smiled. For once she felt at one with herself, and life seemed brighter.

Dominique was right, she thought. It’s better to do what you feel like.

They looked at each other, smiling, both knowing that their lovemaking had been a joyful experience, with no strings attached.

“Are you cold?” Robert asked as he caressed Laurène’s cheek.

She was about to answer when she caught a glimpse of the shadow at the stable’s entrance. Jules was standing on the threshold, Bingo’s bridle in hand, unable to move. The three of them remained perfectly still for a few moments. Then, almost simultaneously, Robert sprang to his feet and Jules charged him. Laurène saw Jules punch his brother just before they grabbed each other.

“Stop it!” Robert shouted, struggling to contain Jules.

His jaw was on fire. They wrestled, one of them tripped, and both toppled and crashed into the hay. Robert was ready to fight on but felt Jules letting go of him all of a sudden. Surprised, Robert freed himself while still looking at Jules, now deathly pale. He understood that something serious had happened. Jules shut his eyes and curled up. Robert bent down and took his brother by the shoulders.

“Jules?”

Noticing the pitchfork on which Jules had fallen, he cursed between his teeth. With extreme caution, he rolled his brother onto his side and saw that his shirt was already covered with blood. Laurène, horrified, staggered over to them.

Without looking at her, Robert blurted out, “That goddamn fork. He fell right on it with me on top of him. Laurène, go to the house and get some disinfectant, antitetanus serum, some Xylocaine, and a syringe. In the medicine cabinet!”

Laurène was zipping up her jeans, mumbling, “Is it bad? Is he going to be okay?”

“We won’t know for sure until we take him to the hospital for x-rays. Come on, get the stuff! Hurry!”

She darted toward the exit, and Robert, kneeling down, delicately pulled Jules’s shirt from his wounds. He grimaced when he saw that one of the fork’s prongs had deeply penetrated Jules’s back. Another had torn the flesh from his side. Jules remained still, fighting off the pain.

“You little jerk,” Robert whispered. “Why didn’t you tell me the truth?”

Robert hadn’t cried in such a long time, he was surprised to be so shaken. He loved Jules. Much more than Louis-Marie or Alex. He’d always loved and respected him. And now he remembered how he felt the day Louis-Marie had stolen Pauline from him.

“Why did you tell me there was nothing between you two?”

Robert had acted on Jules’s green light out of sheer selfishness, knowing, deep down, that his brother hadn’t been honest.

“Jules,” he asked, “are you in a lot of pain?”

Jules didn’t say anything, but Robert could tell just by looking at his brother how bad it was.

“Listen,” Robert said, “I know I’m enemy number one for you right now, but I’m a doctor and you’ll have to let me take care of you. We’ll fight later if you still want to.”

Jules made a move to get up, but Robert prevented him from doing so.

“Stay put. Don’t be an idiot, you’re bleeding all over the place.”

Robert was hoping that his brother’s left lung hadn’t been touched, but there was no way for him to know. Jules was covered with sweat, his curls sticking to his forehead. Robert looked aside, distraught to see his younger brother this way. He got to his feet, picked his shirt off the ground, and put it on. He then grabbed the pitchfork and, in a moment of rage, split it in half on his knee. He threw the pieces away, took a deep breath, and went back to his brother.

“Don’t move, Jules,” he said.

As he was examining the wounds once more, he heard Laurène come into the stable, out of breath.

“I found some disinfectant,” she said, “and some Xylo with a syringe, but no serum. …”

“Damn fools!” Robert said. “No antitetanus serum in a place like this. …”

He grabbed some cotton balls and began cleaning Jules’s wounds, with a light and expert touch.

“No matter what,” he said softly, “you’re going to need some sutures. I’ll do it myself at the hospital.”

He ran his fingers along Jules’s ribs, precise and calm.

“Does it hurt here? How about here?”

Jules stifled a moan, and Robert put an end to his exam. He took the syringe and slowly filled it with Xylocaine.

“This is going to alleviate the pain,” he told Jules. “Laurène, go get my car. The keys are in the ignition.”

As soon as she left, Robert took Jules by the shoulders.

“Feeling a little better? Okay, let me help you get up.”

Jules managed to get on his feet by leaning on Robert.

“Try not to breathe too deeply,” Robert told him. “I don’t know to what extent you’re injured. I think you may have some broken ribs.”

When Jules had tackled him ten minutes earlier, Robert had been scared for himself. Now he felt bad, guilty. The makeshift bandage he’d put on Jules was already soaked with blood.

“I don’t want Aurélien to know about this,” Jules mumbled.

Surprised, Robert eyed his brother and said, “You tell him whatever you want, and Laurène will keep quiet.”

The Porsche stopped in front of the stable, and Robert helped Jules settle into the front seat. Laurène timidly set Jules’s pack of cigarettes on the dashboard in front of him and walked away from the car without daring to say anything. Robert got behind the steering wheel and slowly drove off.

“You okay?” Robert asked.

“Yeah,” Jules answered, but he was obviously in a lot of pain.

“What the hell was that pitch fork doing there anyway?”

After a short silence, Jules answered, with a trace of contempt, “It’s thanks to that pitch fork that you found a clean bed.”

Robert shrugged and stroked his chin.

“You broke one of my teeth, for crying out loud! So you love her but she doesn’t love you. It happens. Are you going to try to beat the crap out of everyone that approaches her?”

Jules was about to respond when he broke into a violent coughing fit. Robert stopped the car on the side of the road, waiting for his brother to start breathing again. Then he put the car in gear, extremely worried.

“Don’t say a word,” he said, softly. “And breathe slowly. I swear I’ll keep my mouth shut until we get to Bordeaux.”

Robert looked so miserable that Jules smiled at him.

Once at the hospital, Robert insisted that he treat his brother himself. Relieved by the x-ray results, he masterfully executed the eighteen stitches to close Jules’s wounds, in front of a group of gaping interns. Then he took his brother to a few bars, both of them wanting to get smashed. Their return to Fonteyne didn’t go unnoticed. Aurélien, who had been told by Laurène that his sons had gone to town to get some shopping done, was absolutely furious to see them arrive home half-drunk at ten o’clock at night. He tore into both of them, calling Jules “irresponsible” and Robert “lazy.” He noticed how drawn Jules looked, as well as the bruise on Robert’s face, but the two of them went straight to their bedrooms, skipping dinner. They asked Fernande to bring them each a sandwich instead.

Laurène had a hard time staying at the table until the end of her meal. She’d been extremely relieved to see Jules standing on his own two feet when he got home, but she would’ve liked to talk to him. The shocked look that remained on Aurélien’s face prevented her from leaving the dining room, and she had to wait until coffee was served to excuse herself. She ran up the stairs to the second floor but then hesitated for a long time at Jules’s door. The idea of being in his presence paralyzed her with fear. What she’d gone through that very afternoon seemed to her the most horrendous experience of her life.

While she was trying to overcome her anguish, Robert came out of Jules’s room. He put a finger to his lips.

“He’s sleeping,” he whispered. “Nothing serious. He’s got two broken ribs, but he’s doing just fine.”

He had a goofy smile on his face. Unsteady on his feet, he headed toward his own room, leaving Laurène all alone. She finally sat on a sofa on the landing, and began to cry. Head in hands, she didn’t hear Pauline tiptoeing up the stairs.

She sat next to Laurène and asked “Something happened?”

She’d observed the young woman throughout the evening and had figured that something was going on. Robert and Jules’s return to Fonteyne had left her more than a little perplexed. Her insatiable curiosity had led her upstairs, to see if she could come up with anything, but she didn’t expect to find Laurène in tears.

“Now, now …” Pauline said, stroking Laurène’s hair.

She went over to the bathroom and fetched a box of tissues and a glass of water. Laurène thanked her with a nod of the head, before whispering, “They got into a fist fight, you know. …”

“Who with? Each other? Why?”

Pauline was looking at Laurène with astonishment. The mysteries and quarrels taking place at Fonteyne fascinated her, and she wondered what was going on now. Laurène, wrapped in her grief, told Pauline what had happened that afternoon. In the silence that followed her confession, she raised her eyes to Pauline.

“Are you out of your mind?” Pauline said with anger. “In the horse’s stall? Gee, you’re really looking for trouble, aren’t you?”

Irritated, Pauline couldn’t believe how fast Robert had gotten over his supposed obsession.

“But … I’m not married to Jules!” Laurène said. “It’s not like I cheated on him. He acts like he owns me when there’s nothing between us.”

“Nothing?”

“No, nothing at all. We can never understand each other. As soon as we start talking, we fight. I know it’s ridiculous, but he scares me.”

She sniffed before adding, “The worst of it all is that I’m not in love with Robert, you know. It’s just something that happened. …”

“You don’t love either one of them, but you had sex with Robert for fun?”

Laurène looked at Pauline, stunned, and started to cry again. Pauline sighed. She felt no compassion for Laurène.

“Well,” she said, “Jules isn’t dead, so it’s not the end of the world. It’d be best if Aurélien didn’t learn about any of this, though. He wouldn’t like it one bit.”

“I wonder if I should just leave Fonteyne,” Laurène muttered. “I’ll never be able to look Jules in the eye ever again.”

Pauline understood Laurène’s sadness at once.

“You’re in love with him?” she said. “Then don’t be afraid to come out and tell him. You wanted to make him jealous? Well, it sure worked!”

Laurène, in spite of her puffy eyes, was still pretty. Pauline thought she was lucky to be so young.

“I was crazy about him for a long time,” Laurène said in a low voice. “I thought about him all the time. I couldn’t even look at other men. But he wouldn’t give me the time of day. When he came home in the middle of the night, I’d watch him. I don’t know how many times I wanted to wait for him in his bed. But I was always scared he would bring someone else home with him. If you only knew how hard it is to live like this month after month. He acted like a big brother to me and I felt insignificant, like nothing. But now I feel ashamed, which is worse. …”

Pauline raised her eyes to the ceiling, annoyed at the thought that Laurène was going to cry all night if she kept this up.

“You didn’t commit any crime.”

“I did the same at my dad’s,” Laurène said. “I left after a stupid tryst just like this. As soon as I try to behave like an adult, it’s a catastrophe!”

“That’s because you’re still not an adult. And you don’t have a sense of humor.”

Stunned, Laurène raised her head to Pauline.

“How old are you, Laurène? Twenty? That’s the age when you’re supposed to do what you want, even if it means messing up sometimes. But you can always fix things. You think that everything is ruined now? You’re looking at it like a kid. If you drove Jules mad with jealousy this afternoon, he won’t have stopped loving you now.”

Laurène, incredulous, would’ve given anything to believe what Pauline had just told her. Pauline guided Laurène to her room.

“Go to bed and get some sleep,” she said, kissing Laurène on the cheek. “Tomorrow is another day. …”

She shut the door and figured she’d made a great effort at feminine solidarity. She remained still for an instant, leaning against the door, dreamy. Robert was trying to find solace by causing a scandal. Good! She would make him pay for that, in her own way. She refused to analyze the jealousy that was tugging at her over Robert. She couldn’t see how Laurène was remarkable enough for two men to fight over, as she went looking for Louis-Marie.

Robert woke up with an atrocious headache the following morning. His first thought was for Jules, and he went over to his room. It was empty. He took an ice-cold shower to try to get rid of his hangover, but only managed to revive the pain in his jaw. He went downstairs to phone a dentist and drank coffee in the kitchen, alone. Once again, he wondered how his brother was doing, and he felt relief when he heard Jules giving some employees an earful, over by the cellar. He went to the office to look out the window. Jules was now involved in a heated argument with Lucas. For a while, Robert observed this tall young man, a bit too thin, his hair dark, looking a bit like a Gypsy, and who wasn’t even really his brother. It had taken that fight yesterday to make him aware of how close to him he felt. In the hospital, something in his eyes and in his expression had moved him more than he would’ve liked. He felt like going over to Jules, but he wondered what kind of reaction he’d get.

I slept with the woman he loves. He’s going to ignore me. Or hate me. …

Robert didn’t regret the afternoon he’d spent with Laurène. A pleasant moment with a pretty woman. If Jules had come back riding Bingo, they would’ve heard the horseshoes from afar. Fate had decided otherwise, and there was nothing he could do about that.

Without that pitchfork, he would’ve trounced me. By the time he would’ve remembered that I’m his brother, he would’ve beaten me to a pulp.

He watched Jules walk away and left his observation point with a sigh. In the hallway, he came across his father.

“You’re going to Bordeaux again, I suppose?” Aurélien said with irony. “Going shopping, as usual?”

Robert forced a smile, and Aurélien tapped him on the shoulder.

“You walked into a door?” he asked.

Robert brought a hand to his chin, and his smile broadened. He left the house and hurried down the steps. He was almost at the garage when he ran into Jules.

“Good morning, Doctor,” Jules said cheerfully. “You have a heck of a way with a needle, you know. Very impressive. If you go to town, bring back some supplies for the medicine cabinet. Something always happens to the laborers during harvest.”

“Are we really okay or are you just pretending?” Robert asked.

Jules went over to the Porsche and opened the door.

“I cleaned your nice leather seats,” he said, playfully.

Robert shrugged and sat behind the wheel. When his gaze met Jules’s, he saw no trace of hostility.

“How are you feeling?” he asked.

“Great!”

“You shouldn’t overdo it, you know. …”

Robert put the key in the ignition, and Jules listened to the sound of the engine with a look of admiration on his face. Robert lowered his window.

“I wanted to tell you …” he began to say, but his brother raised a hand to make him stop.

“Whatever bullshit you’re planning to say … keep it to yourself.”

Robert shook his head, forced himself not to laugh, and put the car in gear. Jules watched him drive away and then headed for the kitchen. Once there, he asked Fernande for some aspirin and poured himself a cup of coffee. He sat at the end of the bench, waiting for Fernande, trying very hard not to see in his mind’s eye the image of Laurène that had haunted him since yesterday.

“You’re daydreaming, kiddo?” Fernande asked him with a loving tap on the back.

He screamed with pain and Fernande, terrified, let go of the coffee pot. Jules got up and looked at the broken pieces of porcelain. Sorry to have frightened Fernande, he said he’d hurt himself falling off his horse, and he helped to clean things up. She moaned about the fact that this was a coffee pot that had belonged to the family for a long time and that it was precious, but he paid her no attention. He wound up drinking his coffee standing up, eager to get back to the vineyards.

“Please sit down,” she told him. “Just for a minute. … How come you look so sad these days?”

She was familiar with him whenever Aurélien wasn’t around. He rested his head on Fernande’s shoulder for a moment, yearning for a bit of the affection she’d always given him. He was completely at ease with her.

“I can tell right away when you’re unhappy,” she said. “And it’s so rare. Who’s making you feel so bad? Your father? A woman? But your father adores you, and all the women are at your feet!”

He didn’t speak and remained still. She ran a hand through his hair, pushing his curls out of his face.

“Is it the weather? But look, it’s sunny out.”

He opened his eyes and smiled.

“I really should go,” he whispered.

“Yes, you go to work. …”

She walked away from him, carrying the pieces of the coffee pot in her apron, certain that she’d managed to comfort Jules a little.

Aurélien was pacing in his office, still angry. That Robert and Jules had decided not to talk about their dispute was perfectly logical. That they’d wound up fighting over Laurène was too. Aurélien thought they’d acted like kids, even though he knew that he was, at least partially, responsible for the outcome. He’d encouraged both to pursue Laurène, God only knew why, and he hadn’t had to wait long for the result. However, Aurélien had thought his sons were too old to behave the way they had, and he would’ve preferred a more subdued confrontation. It looked like Robert had taken a good shot to the chin, but Aurélien couldn’t tell what was wrong with Jules.

This is not the time, he thought, furious. It’s the worst damn time possible!

He’d barely spoken to Laurène in the morning, ignoring her look of sadness.

I’m an old fool! That’s what I am, nothing but an old fool!

Though he was angry at himself, he didn’t feel old. And if it wasn’t for Antoine and Marie, who he considered friends, he probably would’ve tried his luck with Laurène, even if made him look ridiculous. He never feared anything when it came to women, and that incredible self-confidence had won the hearts of plenty of ladies.

He looked at the old full-length photo of Lucie that he’d always kept. He said to himself that he never would have achieved such success if she hadn’t died, and the thought saddened him. He’d cheated on her two days after their wedding, which must have been some kind of record.

A fight outside snapped him out of his reverie, and he opened one of the French doors. He listened for a while, frowning. Jules and Lucas argued ten times a day, but this was something else.

It’s not like Jules to vent his anger or frustration on an employee. There’s got to be something wrong. I need to talk to him about it. …

He shut the door. He could entertain doubts about everyone, even his cellar master, but not Jules. He thought about Varin’s disapproval when they’d rewritten the succession papers. The man’s warnings. …

An idiot … but he knows nothing about Jules. …

Thirty years earlier, however, Aurélien wouldn’t have bet a cent on his adopted son. It had taken exceptional talent to win Aurélien over bit by bit.

What an incredible turn of events. What if he’d been like his mother?

Aurélien couldn’t remember when exactly Jules had begun to make an impression on him, when he had started to look at the child in a different way. Then admiration had followed, along with real fatherly love—feelings that Aurélien didn’t experience with his three other sons, even though he refused to admit it to himself.

Pauline, delighted that the sun was out, had set up her beach chair again behind the castle. In the quiet of the early afternoon, she’d taken off the top of her bathing suit and spread sun tan lotion on her body. Her sunglasses, too large for her tiny feline face, kept sliding down her nose. When she decided to remove them, she noticed Robert standing a few feet from her.

“The womanizer has turned into a voyeur?” she asked with a disarming smile.

He shrugged and walked over to the beach chair while she continued to tease him, flirty and spiteful at the same time.

“Are you happy about your exploits yesterday, Casanova?”

“You know about that?”

“You’d have to be blind not to.”

She straightened up a little so she could have a better look at him.

“I never would’ve thought you’d be attracted to young women. You’ll wind up standing outside high schools if you’re not careful.”

Robert was not amused, and he let out a heavy sigh.

“What’s with the long face? It’s your own fault for always hitting on the women your brothers want.”

“Please!” Robert said, harshly. “Don’t rewrite history in your favor. In our case, the role of the son of a bitch was played by your husband.”

Pauline, surprised by Robert’s furor, said, “A little humor goes a long way, Bob. …”

“I don’t have the energy. …” Robert said.

He went over to Pauline and put a hand on her arm.

“God, I miss you,” he whispered.

Taken aback, she found nothing to say. Robert’s hand slid all the way up to her shoulder, and she shivered. She fumbled for something to say to him, knowing that she needed to speak. Robert turned to the castle. Louis-Marie’s window was hidden by a lime tree.

“Pauline,” he said in a low voice.

She didn’t move, letting him caress her, now at her neck.

“I want you. …” he said.

Pauline opened her eyes and said, “What about the girl, she didn’t manage to cool you down?”

Robert shot up and pulled Pauline out of her chair.

“Either you slap me in the face or you come with me.”

He didn’t give her time to respond as he threw his arms around her. He was frantic and clumsy. Pauline got away from him and went to pick up her skirt and blouse.

“Where do you want to go?” she asked.

Stunned for a second, Robert then grabbed Pauline’s hand and led her to the garage. He opened the car door for her, got into the Porsche himself, and took off. She glanced at him, delighted. She’d managed to push him to the limit without even trying. She derived great satisfaction from knowing that the power she’d held over him remained intact. She couldn’t wait to make love to him. She remembered the softness of Robert’s hands, and his desperate anger thrilled her.

In a mocking tone she said, “I wonder if you’re always going to be, for women, a one-afternoon affai. r…”

He stopped the car and turned to her.

Sarcastically she added, “We don’t have a whole lot of time, Doctor…”

Robert stared at the road up ahead and hesitated only a second before driving off. She could say whatever she wanted; his desire for her dispelled everything else.

“Louis-Marie never wonders where you are?” he asked in a low voice.

“He asks me. Sometimes.”

“You’re going to tell him about this?”

Robert feared the answer, but Pauline said, “Of course not!”

Once in Bordeaux, they stopped at the first hotel they spotted. They went up to an impersonal room. Both excited, they joked and giggled while getting undressed. Forgetting all about foreplay, they made wild and passionate love. Louis-Marie could be a good lover, but Robert had a special affinity with Pauline. He managed to control himself enough to completely satisfy her.

“You’re something else,” Pauline said, laughing. “I’d almost forgotten.”

Spent, Robert buried his head in the crook of Pauline’s arm. He didn’t feel the muted contentment he usually experienced after sex. With Pauline, in that instant, he felt on edge.

“Please,” he muttered, “just stop it for a second. That tone of yours. …”

“Why? To give you the illusion of what?”

He tightened, knowing that he was going to say what she didn’t want to hear.

“I love you,” he said, hopeless.

Pauline picked up Robert’s pants from the floor and rummaged through the pockets looking for his cigarettes. She lit one.

“I don’t want to hear your declarations, Bob. I know that you love me. I love you, too, in a way. … But I’m happy with Louis-Marie. My life is set. Don’t make everything a big drama. … You knew that we’d wind up in a hotel room together at some point this summer. That’s why you came to Fonteyne.”

He stared right at her and said, “No need to lecture me. I’m crazy about you and it’s a bit hard to reconcile with … the sordidness of the hotel. The family dinner we’re going to have tonight at Fonteyne …” He turned away from her before adding, “I’d like to scream at the top of my lungs that I love you, rob flower shops, howl at the moon, do all kinds of insane stuff … but I know that it would all be for nothing, dear sister-in-law. So let me gather myself for five minutes, and then I’ll use that jokey tone that you enjoy so much. …”

Pauline, much more troubled than she would’ve liked, got out of bed and began to get dressed.

“Okay,” she said. “But you do need to calm down a bit, by yourself. Let me go downstairs and wait for you in the car.”

She couldn’t wait to leave the room and get away from Robert’s charms. She ran to the Porsche and sat down, out of breath and annoyed. She thought she’d have to be very careful to avoid going too far with Robert, to not fall into his trap. But apart from this vague anguish, she felt nothing, no guilt.

Jules had finally agreed to play chess with Louis-Marie. Since their skill sets were just about the same, the game was dragging on.

“You’re going to lose, little bro,” Louis-Marie had said early on.

They’d settled in the main living room and were lulled by the sound of the grandfather clock. As Louis-Marie was concocting a very complicated move, Jules got up to light the fireplace.

“Can’t you stay put for a second?” Louis-Marie said. “You’re cold?”

“Yes, and I’m going upstairs to get a sweater, and I’ll be right back.”

“Get one for me, too. It’s in the bathroom.”

Once upstairs, Jules fetched a sweater for himself and then went over to the bathroom that Louis-Marie and Pauline shared with Laurène. Absentminded and still preoccupied by what had happened the day before, he went inside without knocking and was stunned to find Laurène taking a bath.

Startled, she sunk lower in the tub, wrapping her arms around her knees. She was about to ask him what he was doing there, but her eyes caught his and she kept quiet. He was watching with icy amusement.

“You have no one to share the bathtub with?” he asked, mockingly.

He reached for his brother’s sweater on the stool. He stared at Laurène in a particularly insolent manner and then left. He didn’t bother shutting the door and ran down the stairs. He had to stop on the landing to catch his breath. His ribs were hurting.

An hour later, Aurélien found Jules and Louis-Marie still absorbed in their game. Jules was hunched over the chessboard, his chin resting on his hand, his sweater resting on his shoulders. Through the fabric of Jules’s shirt, Aurélien made out the heavy bandage.

Pointing at Jules’s back, he asked, “Hurt yourself, son?”

This was followed by a moment of silence, and then Jules turned to his father and glared at him.

“You’re not going to answer?” Aurélien insisted.

He was sitting in an armchair behind Jules, who was still and silent.

“Checkmate!” Louis-Marie said.

Jules looked at the chessboard, then turned to his father.

“I fell off my horse,” he said.

Aurélien smirked.

“You patch yourself up or did you ask that doctor brother of yours? He’s very serviceable, you know. … I hope it won’t prevent you from working?”

Jules kept his stubborn silence, and Louis-Marie thought he should intervene.

“It’s no big deal,” he said.

“You,” Aurélien said in a low voice, “keep quiet.”

Jules decided to speak up.

“When we were kids,” he said, “you never wanted to hear what we were up to, remember? You always said we should deal with our conflicts ourselves, and may the strongest win. …”

Gracefully Aurélien smiled and said, “And you won, son?”

Jules held his father’s gaze. The way Aurélien could see right through him always amazed him.

“I do hope that you won,” Aurélien said, with a sort of tenderness.

Jules got up and carefully stretched.

“How about something to drink?” asked Louis-Marie as he was putting away the chessboard.

Robert had come into the room silently and was now smoking a cigarette by a window. Jules was the only one to discern his nervousness.

“Anyone seen Pauline?” Louis-Marie asked.

“Yes. She went upstairs to get changed for dinner.”

Robert had answered casually, but Jules glared at him. Then he turned to Louis-Marie, who was opening a bottle and hadn’t noticed anything.

“Do you have a cigarette?”

Laurène’s voice, though barely audible, made Jules cringe. He lowered his eyes to her and seemed surprised to see her next to him. She’d found nothing better to say to him than this insignificant little sentence and now she waited tensely for a response. She was as afraid of him right now as when she’d first come to Fonteyne two years ago. Jules pointed at the box of cigars on the sideboard.

“There,” he said, “those ought to suit you.”

He was being so terribly distant that she didn’t dare insist. She took a seat on the other side of the room, again on the verge of tears.

“I’m not going to eat at the house tomorrow night,” Jules reminded his father.

With a crooked smile, Aurélien said, “That’s right. You have your candlelight dinner with Camille.”

Laurène downed the glass that Louis-Marie had just poured her. Taken aback, he hesitated for a second before filling her glass again.

Pauline was last to join the family. She was spectacular in her turquoise satin outfit. Louis-Marie watched her waltz into the room beaming with pride. She loved to get made up, and he figured she’d spent a lot of time in the bathroom. She went over and sat by him, and he took in her perfume with a smile. He whispered something tender in her ear and she snuggled against him. Robert stopped looking at them and struck up a conversation with Alexandre. It didn’t matter what he said, and he barely listened to his brother; he was trying to regain his calm, desperate not to let his emotions overwhelm him.

Laurène dropped her cigarette and, with a look of dismay, tried to pick up the ashes from her blouse. Jules walked by her at that very moment and whispered, “Gee, being in love sure makes you clumsy.”

She didn’t turn to him and lowered her head.

He regretted having said it immediately. He was about to add something, but Fernande announced that dinner was ready, and everyone filed out of the room. Jules hesitated and found himself alone with Laurène for a few seconds. She got to her feet, gathering her courage.

“I wanted to tell you …” she began, “what happened yesterday …”

“Spare me the explanation, will you? I saw everything!”

Again he regretted his aggressive tone. More sincerely, he added, “I’m ashamed I was so violent yesterday. And so … ridiculous.”

Laurène fumbled for something to say, but he spoke first, “It’s okay. Bob is a great guy. And you even have my blessing, if you want it.”

He headed for the dining room, but she grabbed him by the arm.

“Would you rather I leave, Jules? Does it bother you that I live here?”

Surprised by the question, he said, “At Fonteyne, you’re Aurélien’s guest. It’s got nothing to do with me.”

He gestured toward the dining room, but she didn’t move, looking straight at him. As he felt himself weakening, he conjured up the image that had been haunting him since the day before, and he got angry again.

“You told me the other day …” Laurène whispered.

“I know! But it’s not as though I asked you to marry me. Besides, I didn’t know you had a soft spot for hay at that point.”

Laurène straightened. Gone was her sheepish look.

“Next you’re going to say I’m a bitch because of what happened with Bob? But if I’d made love to you instead, it would’ve been more acceptable? In better taste? What’s the difference? Tell me.”

He grabbed her by the shoulders and said, “You can sleep with the entire family for all I care. You’re free to do whatever you damn well please!”

“You’re the biggest bastard I know,” she said, freeing herself from his grip.

She threw a quick glance at the dining room door and lowered her voice.

“You Laverzac men, you’re all a bunch of pretentious sons of bitches!”

Jules took a step back and asked, “Is that how you talk to my brother? Does he get a thrill out of it?”

Laurène burst into tears and crossed the main living room toward the hallway.

“Are you guys coming or not?” Aurélien called out from the dining room.

Jules started to walk slowly, wondering how he would justify Laurène’s absence.

Carefully, Jules took a grape between his fingers. He detached it from the bunch and, pensive, studied the small crimson sphere for a long time in the palm of his hand, then crushed the fruit, opened its skin, and examined the pulp. He couldn’t come up with a definitive opinion, so he picked up another grape. He tasted it, suppressed a grimace, and walked back to the Jeep.

It’s still going to be good, he thought.

The grapes were ripening, in spite of the bad weather. Another ten days. Maybe fifteen. …

He put the Jeep in gear and felt the tires skid a bit before tearing themselves from the rocky soil.

And when harvest begins, Aurélien won’t stop working for a second. Same with me.

He’d personally checked all the material that the laborers were going to need. The dates imposed for the harvest had relieved wine producers from making the crucial decision themselves but, from one vintage to the other, Jules had to carefully organize his planning.

We’re just going to do it the way we always have.

He relied on his instincts just as much as what he saw each day in the fields. Aurélien asked him the same questions a hundred times and picked up the smallest of discrepancies in his answers. Each fall was the same shared hell, but this one had been particularly difficult to go through, thanks to the constant rain. As for the requests for increased quotas, Jules preferred not to think about it now.

He caught sight of the Mercedes behind him at the foot of the hill and waved to Aurélien and Alexandre before stepping on the gas.

“We all had the same idea, it looks like,” Aurélien said.

He watched the Jeep disappear over the crest of the hill.

“Anywhere we go,” Alex said, laughing, “we can be sure that Jules was there or that he’s going to be there in five minutes.”

Aurélien nodded, solemn.

“Yes,” he said. “It’s … reassuring. But because of it, I now live like some gentleman farmer, and I don’t go out in the fields nearly enough. That Jules is evil. … He describes things in the vineyards so well I can see them from my office.”

With no specific intention, Alexandre said, “You can trust him.”

“I trust both of you,” Aurélien said.

But Jules is the one who sulfated the vines at the precise time. He decided when to begin harvesting last year on exactly the right day. … If it were only you taking care of the vineyards, my poor Alex, I’d pitch a tent out there just to keep an eye on them myself. …

Aurélien gave his son a pat on the shoulder, sorry to be thinking this way. Then they saw the Jeep come down the hill and Jules stopped beside the Mercedes, leaving the engine on.

“We don’t see you enough around here,” he said to Aurélien. “I actually wanted to talk to you about those vines. The rain made a mess of the soil, so we’re going to have to fix that.”

“You have enough people?”

“It’s going to be fine.”

Aurélien, relieved, produced a smile.

When did I lose control of all this? he asked himself without bitterness.

He watched his two sons lighting their cigarettes together, and he felt happy being with them. He thought, with pride, that he’d done a good job raising them.

Aurélien’s unique personality and perspective on things, quite different from his contemporaries, had made him feel inclined to give his children an elaborate education. At least that’s the way he saw it back then. He wanted his sons to be able to run a business and to be respected. He worked very hard to ensure they would turn into the types of men he valued. He looked after their schooling from the very beginning, while paying for private lessons and making sure they went on trips. He did everything to prevent his sons from fighting too much with the estate’s employees. His strictness, at times over the top, had only one goal: to put his sons above the others. This attitude—which he didn’t regret—had ended up costing him Louis-Marie’s and Robert’s presences. But both had developed their own ambitions, and Aurélien was pleased about that. Their success was, to him, a result of his own efforts, and it fell under the category of things he’d hoped for. That was because he’d hoped they would turn out as strong as he was. And he had managed to make them so, at least in part. Jules and Robert were made of steel.

Those two don’t see eye to eye these days, but it’ll pass. It always does when it’s about women. … When they were kids, I would’ve beaten the daylights out of them just to keep them quiet, but today I’d like so much for them to talk to me. …

“We’re a bit late clearing the undergrowth,” Jules said.

Aurélien frowned and asked, “How late?”

“Just a little. Want me to take you back to the house?”

Aurélien smiled at Jules, touched by his son’s kindness.

“In that old clunker of yours?” he said. “Are you kidding me?”

Jules was going to pull away, but Aurélien rapped on the Jeep’s hood.

“Just one second,” he said. “I know you and Alex, and I don’t want any trouble with the laborers this year. No battles, no fighting, no nothing. Understood?”

“Us, fight?” Jules asked with an air of perfect innocence.

“You’re not eighteen anymore,” Aurélien said.

Jules and Alexandre looked at each other, giddy. The approach of the harvest thrilled them, as always.

And for the past hour or so, Jules hadn’t thought about his heartbreak.

Laurène, exasperated, turned away from her computer screen. She couldn’t master the management program that Jules had written. She kept getting lost in the maze of folders, didn’t ask the right questions, and always feared doing something that would wipe out some essential data. Aurélien thought he was too old to mess with computers, and he had no interest in them. He figured that Laurène, being young, would take care of it all easily.

God, she thought, Jules is making things difficult for everybody!

But right away, she recognized how unfair she was being. Jules’s constant willingness to adopt new techniques, no matter what they were, was sometimes a headache for the others, but he didn’t do it out of meanness. Suddenly, Laurène blushed at the thought of the painful episode in the stable. She got up and left her small office, hoping to take her mind off things. Unfortunately, the first person she ran into was Robert. He led her to the terrace and, after making sure they were all alone, he put his hands on her shoulders, looking dead serious.

“I’m so sorry about what happened. …” he began.

He bit his lower lip, not knowing what else to say.

“I know,” Laurène said with a soft voice. “Me too.”

They looked at each other, almost amused, both convinced that they’d paid too high a price for what was simply a good time.

“How is he treating you?” Robert asked.

“He ignores me completely. I don’t exist anymore.”

“And … and that bothers you, right?”

“Of course!”

Robert wondered how he could ever justify how cavalier he’d been with this twenty-year-old woman.

“I’m truly sorry. Not for making love to you, but having been so … thoughtless. I shouldn’t have believed you when you said Jules didn’t care for you, but it was convenient for me. I knew full well that if he caught us, things would be awful.”

He looked so upset that Laurène didn’t doubt his sincerity.

“Listen,” she said, “I’m also to blame.”

He hesitated, not used to such honesty.

“You … You wanted to make him jealous?”

She produced a puzzling smile and decided to be as frank as possible, having nothing to lose.

“No,” she said. “It wasn’t that. I just felt like it, that’s all.”

At a loss, he let go of Laurène’s shoulders. He felt like an idiot. He was fifteen years older than her, and she was the one being mature about things.

“Give him a bit of time,” he finally said. “He loves you.”

She shook her head, her face suddenly filled with sadness.

“Time? Time he’s going to use to marry Camille?”

Robert burst out laughing, delighted at being able to relax a bit.

“Jules is not going to marry someone as silly as Camille Caze!”

“Maybe, but he’s still completely furious with me.”

Robert regretted having put Laurène in such an intolerable position. And he knew there was nothing he could do to help her.

“I know Jules,” she muttered. “He’s never going to forgive me. He’s going to forgive you, because you’re his brother. But me …”

He felt like taking her in his arms and consoling her, but knew he couldn’t. He thought she was nice and pretty, and figured she was very vulnerable. There wasn’t anything she would be able to do to change Jules’s mindset. Unlike Pauline, she hadn’t mastered the art of convincing men to accept anything. Her naïveté was most certainly not the best weapon to make Jules forget about his humiliation and his fury.

She gave him a resigned smile before leaving the terrace. Robert watched her, feeling terrible, thinking he might wind up hating himself.

In the kitchen, Fernande was preparing lunch. Dominique had left her some instructions before heading out, as she always did, to buy groceries. Fernande couldn’t understand why Dominique and Laurène complained about Aurélien’s demands. It seemed normal to give extreme care to the preparation of two meals a day. Even when it came to the breakfast tray, Aurélien had certain requirements: the use of expensive dishes and perfectly polished silverware. Nothing had changed since Lucie’s death; Fernande had made sure of that.

Lucas came in behind her, loudly pulled out a bench, and sat down.

“I’m sick of it all,” he grumbled.

Surprised by this outburst, Fernande turned around and glared at her husband.

“Something wrong?”

“Everything is wrong!” he exploded. “The boss’s son is driving me nuts!”

“Jules?”

Fernande’s eyes were wide open, and Lucas imitated her.

“Yeah, Jules! It’s getting worse year after year. With the blessing of his father. They’re cut from the same cloth.” Lucas looked furious. He continued, “It’s been like this since the beginning of the summer. I can’t take it anymore! It’s one thing for him to yell at the other guys. If we didn’t put a tight rein on them. … But I’m not exactly a peon around here! I should have my say. Only, as soon as I open my mouth, he’s against me. Everywhere else, the cellar master is respected and people listen to what he’s got to say. But not here!”

Fernande, upset, listened to her husband before saying, “Don’t let him get to you like that. He must be having some problems. …”

She wanted to defend Jules, and Lucas became furious.

“Problems! With the amount of land they have and the kind of wine they produce? Are you kidding me? Maybe it’s not an easy business, but things are going just fine. They’re making tons of money!”

Fernande frowned, distressed by what she was hearing.

Lucas lowered his voice and continued, “That Jules. I’ve known him since he was a little kid, and I taught him a good deal of what he knows. And now he treats me like dirt. But I’m not going to let him get away with it. No way. If they want me to leave, all they have to do is say so. They can just put that moron Alex in my place!”

He seemed to be thinking while he spoke, and Fernande feared that he was making foolish resolutions.

“Go talk to Mr. Laverzac about it,” she suggested.

“Are you crazy? You think he’s going to be critical of his son? You don’t know them.”

Lucas got up and threw a hateful glance at his wife. He was incensed that she would take the bosses’ side against him. But he was all too aware of the affection that Fernande had for Jules to be surprised. He was without illusions—and allies. He went past her and stepped out of the kitchen.

At the end of the day, Jules asked his father for the car keys. Vaguely annoyed, Aurélien handed them to him without a comment, convinced that Jules was about to engage in a stupid affair with Camille. He thought that his son was as out of sorts as the weather this summer. He didn’t sleep well, having to force himself not to stay up to wait for Jules to return, but he kept his ears open. Around midnight, he heard the Mercedes slowly pulling up in the driveway, just outside his window. He remained in bed for a long time in the dark, thinking.

The following morning, while having breakfast in his office with Alexandre and Jules, he decided to come out and say what he’d decided.

“I thought of something,” he said, looking serious. “When we’re done with earthing-up, in November, I’d like for one of you to go on a trip for me. … I’m actually thinking about you, Jules, since Alexandre probably doesn’t feel like leaving Dominique and the kids. …”

His sons looked at him dumbstruck.

“It’s a special assignment,” Aurélien continued, stone-faced. “In London and Hampshire County. It’ll take you one month maybe. No more than two.”

Aurélien almost smiled at Jules’s expression but was able to control himself. His adopted son could smell a rat, but there was no way to escape.

“Since I’m not planning to expand the vineyards this year, we won’t have to clear any land, and I won’t be needing you until racking in February.

Alexandre listened to his father, becoming more and more stunned. He thought that the idea of a trip was outrageous. Jules, for his part, knew very well that Aurélien wanted him away from Fonteyne, and more specifically Laurène and Camille.

“Can you tell me why—”

“I’m very interested in English wines,” Aurélien interrupted. “And you know how I worry about exporting. We’ll talk about it in detail between now and then, but it won’t be a useless trip, believe me.”

This was followed by heavy silence. Jules fiddled with his lighter, looking at neither his brother nor his father.

“I’m too old to go myself now,” Aurélien said as he got to his feet.

He was expecting a response. Jules finally turned his eyes toward him and produced an enigmatic smile. If he’d been insulted by being treated like some turbulent kid being sent away to learn a lesson, he didn’t show it. He didn’t even seem upset. Aurélien decided to prod him.

“Are you okay with that?” he asked.

“Do I have a choice?”

“Not really.”

Jules shook his head and said, “That’s what I thought. …”

He got up from the armchair and gestured at Alexandre.

“Are you coming? We have to oversee the barreling process.”

Aurélien let them leave without adding anything. Once alone, he chuckled.

He hates the idea and loves it at the same time, he thought. In any case, it’s going to give him time to cool off. … But I am going to miss him. …

A ray of sunshine lit up a corner of his desk. Aurélien glanced outside at the clear sky.

Just a few more days …

He preferred to think about the upcoming harvest rather than the trip he was imposing on his son. He’d convinced himself the previous night that Jules would get into trouble if he didn’t leave Fonteyne for a while. Even if the way he’d gone about it had been a bit cavalier, the scheme was a decent one.

Aurélien waited the entire morning for Jules to come back and either argue against the trip or say he was okay with it, but his son remained strangely calm and distant. And when Aurélien cracked a joke about it during cocktail hour, Jules didn’t react. He seemed to be accepting the trip without putting up any kind of fight, which was a bad sign. He even announced, out of the blue, that he was going to miss dinner again that night. Aurélien, taken aback, didn’t know what to think of Jules’s unusually shifty attitude. His son had always preferred arguments and sometimes outbursts over compromise. Aurélien told himself he was going to have to keep an even closer eye on him.

The following day, at lunchtime, Jules was called to the phone and stepped out of the dining room for a few moments. When he came back, he went around the table, heading straight for Aurélien.

He leaned over his father and whispered, “Come with me for a few seconds.”

Surprised by his son’s tone, Aurélien followed him to the main living room. Jules carefully shut the door behind them.

“Something happened in Mazion,” he said, softly.

Stalling a little, he lit a cigarette before adding, “It’s Antoine. … He’s in the hospital. He had a heart attack. …”

Aurélien looked at his son blankly and then said, “Antoine? But he’s my age!”

A moment of silence followed, as Aurélien sat down.

“He’s your age, yes,” Jules said, “but you haven’t gained a bunch of weight over the last ten years like Antoine.”

“And I have you!” Aurélien said. “I’m not out there killing myself in the vineyards all day long.”

He was upset and lost. Though, out of selfishness, he was thinking more about himself than Antoine. Jules came over to him to put a hesitant hand on his shoulder. The two rarely put on any displays of affection, their relationship based more on glances and words than physical contact.

“Let’s send Alexandre over there to help out,” Jules suggested. “At least for a little while. I’ll drive Laurène over to be with her mother now, and Dominique can go a bit later. …”

Aurélien nodded in agreement. Jules removed his hand from his shoulder.

“Was it Marie who called you?” Aurélien asked.

Why him? Why not me? he thought, fleetingly.

But he didn’t feel like thinking about that right now. Standing before him, Jules hesitated.

He’s waiting for me to do something. He’s not trying to take over everything. What’s wrong with me? Am I afraid?

Aurélien stood up.

“Laurène!” he shouted.

Then he turned to Jules.

“Take her to her mother’s, and I’ll talk to Dominique. And Robert can go to the hospital to find out what exactly is going on.”

Jules walked over to Laurène as soon as she set foot in the main living room. He lovingly took her by the shoulders, but she freed herself right away, alarmed by this sudden warmth. She turned to Aurélien instead, and he was the one who explained the situation. Worried, she followed Jules to the garage, saying nothing. Instead of the Jeep, he decided to drive Louis-Marie’s car, knowing that the keys were always in the ignition. He’d been hurt by Laurène’s reaction and he kept quiet. She looked straight in front of her, wounded and uncomfortable.

Once in Mazion, they were greeted by a very agitated Marie, and Jules had a lot of difficulty calming her down. Then, he went over to the employees and talked to them for a long time. He wanted to know what Alexandre would find there, what the situation was. The timing of Antoine’s hospitalization was bad, a few days before the harvest. Jules, with his disconcerting ability to fully wrap his mind around any sort of problem, gave precise orders and told everyone to get to work. Then he went back to Marie to hug her one last time before heading back to Fonteyne. Walking toward the car, he was surprised to see Laurène by his side.

Marie was watching them from the front door, and Jules didn’t know how to behave.

“Alex will be over tomorrow morning to take charge of things,” he said. “I have to go back home. …”

He was dying to take her in his arms, desperate to lose himself in so much love and stupidity.

“You hate me, don’t you?”

She’d blurted out the question in a low voice. She was glaring at him, both clumsy and aggressive.

“No. …”

Taken aback by the way she’d just spoken to him, he turned and got in the car. He slowly drove off, although it took a tremendous force of effort to leave.

Very early the following morning, Jules went over to the hospital in Bordeaux. He felt like he had to visit Antoine, if only once, to reassure him about his vineyards. He didn’t judge the way the Billots ran their business, but he knew that Antoine had stuck to the old methods and ideas of his generation.

According to Robert, his condition was pretty good, and the nurse did let Jules go in for a few moments. Antoine greeted him with a tight smile. His face was grayish, and he looked doleful.

“How are you doing?” Jules asked him.

Antoine gestured for Jules to sit down, but he preferred standing by the bed.

“I hope you’ve learned your lesson,” he said. “You should stay away from Marie’s cooking. Or just drink water from now on. …”

Antoine made a face and waved Jules’s banalities away.

“I know how busy you are over at Fonteyne,” he said, “and that you have no time to waste. But, listen, I need someone to take care of things for me.

“Alex is going to do it. He was over in Mazion at seven this morning. He’s going to go every day. It’s all settled.”

Antoine released a long sigh of relief.

“That’s great,” he said. “Between you and me, my foreman is a moron. Warn your brother about him, tell him not to get pushed around by him. But you’re going to keep an eye on things too, right?”

Jules was a bit annoyed by Antoine’s attitude toward Alexandre.

“Alexandre will be totally fine by himself,” he said.

Antoine gave him a skeptical look, forcing Jules to add, “The Laverzacs and the Billots are one family. Don’t worry about anything.”

Antoine stared at Jules and said, “That’s good. I wanted to hear that from you.”

Following a moment of awkward silence, Antoine added, “That was nice of Robert to come over yesterday. Because of him, I’m treated like a king around here. I think that all the nurses are crazy about him. On the other hand, he really doesn’t know anything about vines, so I’m glad I talked to you.”

Jules smiled at him, and Antoine knew that he was about to leave.

“Wait just a minute, kid,” he said. “There’s one more thing, but it’s hard for me to say. …”

Instantly, Jules was on the defensive.

“Don’t get bent out of shape,” Antoine muttered. “I guess you know what I have in mind. … Listen, I don’t know what’s going on between you two, but every time Laurène comes home to see her mother, she’s crying. … She tells me nothing, but …”

“Antoine, stop.”

Jules was calm, cold, and Antoine grabbed him by the sweater.

“If something happens to me,” he said, “she’s going to be all by herself. And the same for Marie and my vines! I won’t ask you anything. But keep an eye on them, even if it’s from afar.

“That’s enough, Antoine! You’re not that sick. … And you forget about Alexandre too easily.”

He’d taken a couple of steps back toward the door, and Antoine watched him, powerless. Jules hesitated to leave. He loved Marie, and while he may not have thought all that much of Antoine, thanks to Aurélien’s influence, he understood his distress.

“If Laurène is crying,” he said in a low voice, “it’s not because of me. And, believe me, I’m sorry about it.”

Antoine, taken aback, watched Jules go. He left the hospital feeling angry. He had the painful impression that everybody was meddling in his life. His feelings for Laurène left him unsettled to no end, made him less focused on Fonteyne, less attentive, less confident. And he had no idea how to change his state of mind.

Once home, Laurène couldn’t resist her mother’s affection. She told Marie everything, including the awful episode in the stable. Marie listened to her quietly, horrified. On top of her husband’s hospitalization, her daughter’s confidence shocked her. If Dominique had brought her only joy, Marie had always known that Laurène would be a problem child. She knew all too well her youngest daughter’s naïve, timid, and obstinate personality. And her complete ineptitude when it came to men. That Laurène could prefer Robert, Marie understood. Robert’s seductive side didn’t escape anyone. That and the fact that his obvious and mysterious sadness could be captivating for a young woman. But that Laurène had had casual sex with him floored her. She was from a generation that didn’t accept such ideas and behavior. However, since she didn’t want to be seen as backward and didn’t want her daughter to think that she was against her, Marie decided not to come out with the unpleasant comments that came to her mind. All she said was that it was a mistake to turn her back on a man like Jules, and that he didn’t deserve to be treated this way. And then she advised her daughter to come back to Mazion, where she really ought to be, instead of living at the Laverzacs’. Laurène cried a lot, hesitated, then said that she would leave Fonteyne after Jules’s departure for England. That way, she gave herself a deadline, while not knowing how she would take advantage of it. What was certain was that Jules would never come for her at her parents’, and she couldn’t stand the idea of losing him.

Speaking to her mother had enlightened her about herself and her situation. She realized that no matter what she’d thought recently, she still loved Jules with the same intense passion. She had no interest in a future without him. She couldn’t accept that their relationship, as messy as it was now, was irreparable. Marie didn’t want to contradict her, though she was convinced that Laurène would have a very hard time winning over Jules after humiliating him the way she had.

Jules arriving with Dominique was one of the worst things Marie had to endure that day. She hated to pretend and had a very hard time greeting Jules as she normally would have. She offered him something to drink, nervous and clumsy, asked a thousand questions about the vineyards, and forgot to talk about Antoine. Baffled by her behavior, Jules ended up asking, with his typical kindness, “Is everything okay, Marie? You’re not worried, I hope.”

“No!” she blurted out. “Alex is doing a great job. It’s a pleasure to have him around.”

As he gave her an affectionate smile, Marie saw the son that she never had and would’ve adored.

“Antoine will be back on his feet soon, you’ll see. And he won’t have any problems with the harvest. I’ve taken care of everything concerning the laborers, but you still have time anyway. You guys harvest a bit later around here.”

Marie gave him a sad look.

“Yes,” she said, “everything is going to be okay. …”

There was so little conviction in her voice that Jules frowned. He glanced at Laurène, guessing that she’d told her mother about everything, and immediately, he resented her for it.

Marie, who’d seen his expression, intervened, “So, you won’t be around this winter?”

Jules set his glass down and got up. “That’s right,” he said. “I’ll be in London.”

For the first time in his life he was in a hurry to leave Marie and Mazion.

“I have to go, Marie. Do you need anything?”

“No,” she said. “You’re a good kid.”

She’d forced herself to say those words, and he noticed. Extremely uncomfortable, he kissed Marie and Dominique on the cheeks but ignored Laurène. He hurried over to the Jeep, without knowing that a silence filled with consternation had fallen on the three women after he’d left.

At six the following morning, Jules was surprised to see his brother Robert walk into his bedroom.

“You’ve fallen out of bed?” Jules asked, yawning.

“No, I’m actually going to bed now. But I wanted to remove those sutures of yours. It’s time. And you get up so early I figured I might just as well stay up.”

Smiling, Robert looked around him. He’d always liked Jules’s room. A large leather armchair, old and beat up, sat in front of the fireplace. There were piles of books everywhere.

“You caught the bug, too?” Robert asked.

“Yes, and since there’s no more room in the library. …”

Jules sat up in bed and smiled at his brother.

“You know …” he said, “for those long winter nights.”

Robert burst out laughing.

“Long winter nights with books, yeah …”

“Why not? There’s more to this world than just women. You never take a break?”

There was a trace of hostility in Jules’s voice and Robert stopped laughing.

“I spent the night in Bordeaux’s night clubs, and I was bored to death. …”

He looked so sad and tired all of a sudden that Jules felt bad for him. He asked point blank, “Is Pauline still poisoning your life?”

Robert lowered his head without answering.

“What about Laurène. Did you ditch her?”

Again, Jules had used a harsh tone. Robert looked him straight in the eye.

“I can’t answer because, no matter what, you’ll get angry at me. Is there alcohol in the bathroom? I need to remove your sutures.”

Jules got lost in his thoughts as he waited for his brother to return. He rolled onto his stomach.

“How are your ribs?” Robert asked.

“I ignore them and they leave me alone.”

Robert opened the packaging on a disposable scalpel.

“Don’t move,” he said. “You won’t feel a thing.”

He held the end of a suture with tweezers and cut the knot.

“Are you going to buy me a cashmere sweater in London?” he asked, out of the habit of distracting patients while he worked on them.

Jules laughed.

“Don’t move!” Robert said. “Are you happy you’re going?”

“No. But I’m curious about their white wines. And their procurement networks. Even when it’s for the wrong reasons, Aurélien is right.”

Jules started to laugh again, and Robert was barely able to lift the scalpel.

“Quit it!” Robert said.

His fingers were agile and precise, even though he’d spent a good portion of the night drinking.

“There,” he said. “Just like new. This scar is a work of art, if I do say so myself.”

Jules turned around and stared at his brother.

“You only fixed what you messed up. Don’t expect gratitude.”

Robert gave him a tired smile.

“You look old this morning,” Jules said.

“I know.”

Grabbing his pack of cigarettes from the nightstand, Jules said, “You didn’t answer me, about Laurène. …”

Robert shrugged and said, “You know exactly what the situation is. You’re just looking for a fight.”

Jules got up, glanced at the alarm clock, then turned to Robert. “Maybe you’re right,” he said. “Go to bed, you look dead.”

He left his brother, showered, and then went down to Aurélien’s office where, for once, he got there first. He thought long and hard about the ridiculous reasons that had prompted him to invite Camille to dinner twice that week when he was bored to tears in her company. And he wondered if Robert’s behavior—trying to forget about Pauline by going out with a slew of other women—wasn’t more logical than his.

When Fernande walked in with the breakfast tray, he was sitting down, brooding and worried.

“Is everything okay, kiddo?” the old lady asked him as she poured him some coffee.

He came out of his reverie and smiled at her, but gave a bizarre answer, “No. Your husband is giving me all kinds of grief these days. I don’t know what’s with him, but tell him to quit it. …”

Fernande immediately looked worried. She’d feared a comment like that for the past few days. She was about to reply when Aurélien came in, and she left the office immediately. Jules greeted his father and tried to concentrate solely on Fonteyne.

Laurène hadn’t stayed in Mazion and had come back to work for Aurélien, but every afternoon she got away from the office to visit her father at the hospital. He was slowly getting better. Antoine never asked her about Jules, having decided not to get involved in such matters anymore.

Each morning, Alexandre left for his father-in-law’s estate and seemed happy to be in charge. The few days of sun that everyone had hoped for finally arrived. Louis-Marie took advantage of a fleeting inspiration to isolate himself in the afternoon and write. As for Pauline, she jumped in the car and, on some vague pretext, headed for Bordeaux, leaving Esther more and more in Dominique’s care.

Jules tirelessly surveyed the vineyards, doing his work on top of Alexandre’s. He kept a close eye on Lucas at all times. Still obsessed with Laurène, he forced himself to spend the majority of his time away from the house.

And it was only by chance that he ran into Robert and Pauline as they walked out of a hotel in Bordeaux. Everyone was so stunned that they looked at one another for a good while, speechless. Pauline was the first to break the silence.

“You keep catching people with their hands in the cookie jar. I’m really very sorry about this. But if you weren’t always everywhere at the same time … Please, Jules, don’t tell anybody. Not Louis-Marie anyway. … Leave him alone. …”

Jules had never seen such a grave expression on her. Embarrassed, he glanced at Robert, who hesitated to come closer to his brother. Traffic around them was heavy, and Jules thought the pedestrian going by must have thought it odd for them to be planted there, looking at one another without moving. He took a step in his brother’s direction, but Pauline grabbed his arm.

“Can’t you forget about this, Jules?” she asked.

Robert came toward him, and there was a moment of extreme discomfort. Jules then said to Pauline, “I’m not interested in what you guys are doing. Of course, I haven’t seen you. …”

He would’ve given anything to be elsewhere at that moment. He took out his car keys and fiddled with them before turning to his brother.

“You’re completely insane,” he said. “You’re going to end up getting what you want. One of these days, we’re all going to be at one another’s throats.”

Robert’s eyes were glued to the pavement. Jules started to walk away but came back.

“Louis-Marie is waiting for me at the stationary store, on the other side of the square.”

He left them without adding anything else, in a hurry to pick up his other brother and get back to Fonteyne. Robert remained frozen in place, still aghast, and Pauline had to drag him to the Porsche. They got inside the car in silence. Robert started the engine, took off, made a U-turn, and drove the full length of a one-way street. He waited until they were out of Bordeaux to mutter anything.

“Jesus! Imagine? What if Louis-Marie had seen us?”

Pauline was relaxing, relieved that they’d avoided a catastrophe.

“I don’t really care about Louis-Marie,” Robert said. “But what about you and him? What are we going to do?”

Pauline turned away from him and cracked her window open.

“What are we going to do?” she said. “Nothing. Except hurry so we get to Fonteyne before them.”

Robert said nothing. He accelerated, driving faster than usual to grant Pauline’s wish.

I asked for it, he thought. Jules must think I’m a pig. I can’t explain to him. …

He realized that he would’ve preferred running into Louis-Marie than Jules.

But why? The conflict wouldn’t have done me any good. Pauline will never leave Louis-Marie. Never. …

He was only thinking about himself, convinced that Pauline felt nothing but some kind of retrospective pain. He was upset with her for not taking his side, if only momentarily—although it was true that she hadn’t lied to him since that first afternoon they’d spent in the hotel room.

So why is she sleeping with me, then?

He’d have been better off wondering why he was taking her to a hotel, since there was absolutely no future possible between them.

“There’s nothing we can do, Bob. …” Pauline said.

She’d fished a small mirror from her handbag and was fixing her makeup.

“I have to go back to Paris,” he mumbled. “Or things are going to end up badly. Jules is right.”

“Yes, he should know!” she said, brazenly.

They remained quiet until they reached the garage, and she ran to the house. He stayed behind, smoking a cigarette, trying to make up his mind. When he joined the family in the main living room, he admired Pauline’s composure. She’d changed and wore a peach-colored satin dress that was barely decent. She was talking with Aurélien and greeted Robert as though she hadn’t seen him all day. Louis-Marie was serving cocktails, and Robert turned down a glass of wine for a tumbler of whisky, which he drank quickly. Setting down his glass, his eyes met Jules’s. He found no trace of contempt or animosity.

“How can you stand the sight of me?” Robert asked his brother between his teeth.

“It had been so long since you’d come home to screw everything up that I’d forgotten what it looks like. …” Jules said.

He then turned his back to Robert and listened to Pauline on the other side of the room. She was complaining about Louis-Marie working while they were on vacation, and that she was tired of being all alone. Though Jules was well aware of Pauline’s natural ability, he was stunned she’d had the nerve to say it. Then he thought he might burst out laughing, so he walked out of the living room. He giggled in the hallway, happy to let off some steam. He thought that Robert would come over to join, but it was Aurélien that appeared.

“You look like you’re having a good time,” he said.

Aurélien jutted his chin toward the library.

“Come with me,” he said, “I have a bit of news that you won’t like.”

Jules followed his father and closed the door behind them.

“Laurène told me that she was going home after the harvest. For good. Did you know that?”

Jules took a few steps, not knowing what to think.

“No,” he finally said. “Antoine needs her?”

“I’d be surprised!”

Aurélien’s voice was harsh. Laurène’s decision had him extremely upset.

“She thanked me for training her, but she says her family needs her. What the hell?”

“There’s been a lot of upheaval in Mazion. …”

“Yes, but to the point that she decided to just pack up and leave? Here, she earns a salary. Antoine can’t afford to pay a secretary, we all know that.”

Aurélien seemed to expect explanations, but his son remained quiet, obviously bewildered by the news.

“Why is it that your shenanigans have to interfere with our business? You’re not going to tell me that you have nothing to do whatsoever with Laurène leaving?”

Jules wasn’t listening to his father, instead wondering how things would be in the house without Laurène around. The very idea of her being gone made him desperate.

“I’m talking to you!” Aurélien said.

In a hollow voice, Jules replied, “What do you want me to do?”

“I want you to stop screwing things up!” Aurélien screamed.

Jules seemed to snap out of his torpor and shot Aurélien a sharp look. He was genuinely convinced that he had nothing to do with Laurène’s decision. Each time she talked to him, she was unpleasant. He dismissed out of hand the blame that Aurélien was putting on him. He knew that he was looking for a fight, but he felt he had to speak up.

“Maybe she got tired of your stifling protection,” he said.

Aurélien was blown away by the enormity of Jules’s insolence. He had to get ahold of himself before saying, “She’d have left us a long time ago if I hadn’t kept her out of your reach. I was responsible for her in lieu of her father, even if you think that’s laughable. You have no morals! Your attitude toward women has always been revolting! I didn’t want Laurène to wind up in your bed, that’s true, but only because it’s not a stable place. You’ve been sleeping with women for fifteen years, and you’ve never fallen in love with any of them!”

Aurélien stopped, out of breath. Jules was looking at him, stunned. He’d expected an outburst, but never a speech like that. His father took a few steps forward, and Jules, instinctively, backed up toward the bookcase.

“You’ve always tried to be like me,” Aurélien said. “But my life is behind me. I had a wife and children. I had passions and heartbreaks. Now I’m satisfied with the occasional mistress, it’s normal. But you? What the hell’s wrong with you?”

Deeply moved by what he’d just heard, Jules spontaneously blurted out, “I love her!”

Just by the way Aurélien was smiling, Jules understood that he’d fallen into the trap. He couldn’t back pedal, and so he continued.

“I love her and you’ve known it for a long time. You thought she was too young? Well she doesn’t agree with you. She’s an adult and she can live without your blessing. Or mine! She can pick whoever she wants. …”

“But not you?”

Aurélien’s surprise was obvious, and his anger seemed to be dissipating.

“In Mazion, she’ll have peace and quiet,” Jules muttered.

Aurélien didn’t want to explain to Jules that it was Antoine’s intolerance that caused Laurène to leave home, two years earlier. He was troubled by Jules’s confession. And so Laurène had preferred Robert? He thought that was odd. Once again, he set eyes on his son, and thought he looked pitiful.

“You really think I’m some kind of egotistical monster?” asked Jules. He was now leaning against the sliding ladder, the way he always did.

Aurélien wanted to do or say something comforting, but he was held back by uncertainty.

“I often … But I never talked to you about them. … It’s true, it was never with her. …”

Unable to formulate coherent sentences, Jules was trying to justify himself, and Aurélien stopped him.

“I just wanted to shake you up!” he said. “To make you angry. I don’t usually like heart-to-hearts, but your false indifference these past few days got on my nerves. I do hope that you get married someday, Jules. … If Laurène doesn’t want you, you’re more than justified to look for someone else.”

Aurélien was embarrassed. The way he’d attacked Jules was nothing more than the result of the confused feelings he still had for Laurène. He was well aware of that and felt ashamed. He’d taken advantage of the usual ambiguity of their rivalry to link a serious love affair to their inconsequential flings. He did that knowingly and had no excuse for it.

“You and I are too close,” he said. “And we’re always together. It’s not right. No wonder we get into these messed-up situations. It’s my fault. …”

Jules straightened and said, “I wouldn’t say that.”

“Don’t worry, I’m not trying to chase you away from Fonteyne. Even though I am still sending you to England!”

Jules didn’t laugh. He examined his father’s face. Aurélien gave him a tender look.

“Listen, cowboy,” he said. “You know what we’re going to do? Next time we hire a secretary, we’ll make sure she’s ugly!”

He walked away, turned off the lights, and opened the hallway door. He noticed that Jules still hadn’t moved.

“Are you coming?” Aurélien asked in a soft voice.

From his bedroom window, Louis-Marie spotted Robert and Pauline walking side by side in the alley. It was at least the third time they’d gone past the castle. Bob seemed to be listening, head low, while Pauline made her usual hand gestures as she spoke. Louis-Marie didn’t suspect that his wife was cheating on him. He’d noticed the way Robert looked at Pauline at times, but figured it was due to some nostalgic impulse. He guessed that his brother wasn’t completely over Pauline. And he understood perfectly. As for his wife, he knew her to be naturally flirty. The way she toyed with all the men she came across amused Louis-Marie. He had no doubts about the love Pauline felt for him and that, he thought, was enough to keep her away from temptations. Their age difference could be a source of worry, but he’d convinced himself that Pauline needed him, his liberal and protective attitude, his forty-year-old maturity. Pauline wasn’t a great mother or a great wife; she was just happy to be herself, and Louis-Marie adored that about her.

He took advantage of his stay at Fonteyne to write and send articles to the various magazines he contributed to. Louis-Marie worked very hard, as he had to finance an extravagant lifestyle. But he loved his life and wouldn’t have had it any other way. He had no taste for his father’s stern existence, and that’s why he’d left Fonteyne to begin with. Robert had done the same thing, but Alexandre remained a prisoner of the place. Poor Alex, devoid of talent and passion! Sometimes Louis-Marie felt sorry for him. Just as he at times wondered about Jules’s stability. That a man like Jules, with a strong personality, could cohabitate with both a tyrannical father and a mediocre brother left Louis-Marie perplexed. Without thinking about it and maybe without even realizing it, he’d always admired Jules. Because of his adopted brother, he was certain of Fonteyne’s future welfare, without having to participate in it. Jules, more than Aurélien, was what still connected Louis-Marie to Fonteyne.

Of all the members of the family, Louis-Marie was the one who’d wondered most about his little brother’s origins. But the one day he’d asked a question out loud, Aurélien went into such a fury that Louis-Marie hadn’t pushed it. Instead he just watched Jules with curiosity for years after that. Then his interest had turned into respect and affection. Louis-Marie appreciated the fact that Jules had managed to run Fonteyne without undermining Aurélien’s authority, but he was anxious when he thought about what was going to happen after their father’s death.

Once more he glanced at the alley. It was deserted. He felt a vague unease and should’ve acted on it.

Aurélien and Alexandre listened to Jules without interrupting him. A heavy silence followed.

“I would’ve preferred not knowing about it,” Aurélien finally said. “Lucas! I can’t believe it. He’s been working for me for thirty-two years!”

“I’m sure it was the first time,” Jules said. “He’s always been a good cellar master. The problem is that he sees all of the other employees constantly toeing the line. Maybe he was influenced by one of them, he was tempted. … Or maybe we gave him too much leeway. …”

“Influenced? Tempted?” Aurélien said, slamming the top of this desk. “What are you talking about? Stealing is stealing, and that’s that!”

Jules tried to minimize the situation.

“It wasn’t any big operation, far from it. Small thefts, small profits.”

“So, on top of everything else, he’s only a two-bit crook!”

Alexandre was trying to make himself invisible by looking at his feet. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

“How did you discover it?” Aurélien asked.

“He gave himself away. He looked so exasperated when I watched him, got so indignant when I asked for precise details. He never used to be like that. …”

In a fit of rage, Aurélien shoved aside the documents waiting for his signature on his desk and said, “We’re going to deal with this right now. Tell Lucas to get over here.”

Jules glanced at Alexandre. He weighed his words and slowly said, “Thing is … there’s Fernande and—”

Scornful, Aurélien interrupted him, “What about Fernande? She’s part of the scheme?”

“Come on,” said Jules. “Don’t be unfair. Fernande is a wonderful woman, and she’d never do anything dishonest. But if you kick out Lucas, she’s going to have to follow him.”

Aurélien gave Jules an icy stare and said, “I didn’t ask you for your input.”

Alexandre found the courage to back his brother and said, “But you can’t get rid of Fernande just like that!”

The words stirred up Aurélien’s anger.

“Fernande! Fernande! I don’t give a damn about her!”

Jules jumped to his feet, now as mad as his father. He was going to say something, but Aurélien was quicker.

“Spare me your dramatics, or get the hell out of my office.”

Jules hesitated for a second, and managed to get ahold of himself. He sat back down and crossed his legs. Aurélien watched him light a cigarette and refrained from commenting. As the silence grew longer, it was Alexandre who broke it.

“If you call Lucas in right now, it’s going to be the end of him here, that’s certain. Why don’t we just take a bit of time to think about some measures that we could take moving forward?”

“When I need your advice, I’ll ask for it,” Aurélien said. “You’re not in Mazion here. I hope that you can tell the difference.”

The allusion to the role that Alexandre had played for the past few days at his father-in-law’s was intentionally hurtful. Aurélien settled in his armchair and looked at both his sons.

“Why is everything going wrong this summer? There’s at least one problem every day. I’m going to have to get everything into shape, and it’s not going to be a pretty sight! And I’m starting with Lucas, to set an example. …”

Jules took a deep breath. He was prepared to do anything to defend Fernande.

“You can’t fire Lucas,” he said, calmly.

“I can’t? Is that what you think?”

There was such a contained threat in Aurélien’s voice that Jules corrected himself.

“Not now,” he said. “That’s what I meant to say.”

Aurélien nodded and waited for the rest.

“I know at least one of the men Lucas dealt with. He was stupid enough to accept a check as payment. I also know the name of the one who paid him and the check number. That’s enough to scare the daylights out of the man.”

“Or to send him to jail,” Aurélien calmly added.

Jules was providing his father with information that he would’ve liked to keep to himself. But he was leaving things up to Aurélien, sacrificing Lucas in order to save Fernande, so to speak.

“Who gave you the information?”

“We deal with the same bank. The branch manager decided that Fonteyne’s account was worth some indiscretion.”

Aurélien kept his eyes riveted on Jules.

“I can’t say that I’m too thrilled with the way you went about this,” he said. “You’ve used our name in a … questionable way. But what counts are the results, I’ll grant you that.”

He let out a short sigh.

“You tell Lucas to come see me at five. I want both of you to be here too so we can all resolve this. If you really think that we have to keep a thief in the house, I’m okay with not showing him the door today. But you two are completely responsible for this, let that be perfectly clear. …”

Alexandre was first to get up and Jules followed suit. They left the office and waited until they were across the hall to look at each other.

“I didn’t think he was going to go for it for a while,” Alexandre said. “God, he can be nasty when he wants to be!”

Jules pushed his brother toward the kitchen.

“Don’t celebrate too quickly. He might change his mind when he confronts Lucas this afternoon.”

Louis-Marie had come down to the kitchen to make some coffee. The three of them settled around the enormous oak table.

“We have a problem,” Jules suddenly said to Louis-Marie, “and you’re going to help us.”

“If you want me to follow you around the vines with the coffee pot, the answer is no. I have my own work to do. …”

He poured his brothers some coffee and added with a smile, “What’s it all about?”

“It’s about Fernande. You like her, don’t you?”

“Of course I like her! Why?”

“You’re going to go to Aurélien and tell him that.”

Stunned, Louis-Marie looked at both his brothers.

“Just like that?” he said.

“Yep. …”

“That’d be strange!”

Jules took a sip of his coffee and said, “It’d be perfect. Even better is if you see Bob and tell him to do the same thing.”

Jules thanked him with a nod and left the kitchen, whistling. Louis-Marie put a hand on Alexandre’s arm.

“You know what he’s got in mind?”

“Yes, and he’s right.”

Louis-Marie laughed and said, “But he’s always right!”

Alexandre smiled.

“Not always,” he said. “But most of the time.”

“I wasn’t criticizing him,” Louis-Marie said.

He stopped laughing, went over to a window, and gazed at the vineyards outside.

“As long as those vines are standing, nothing is going to change around here. … That landscape is what makes you all what you are. … And it’s always going to be that way. …”

Alexandre listened to his brother, surprised by the tone of his voice.

“Man,” he said, “you’re sinister. It’s not so much what you say, but how you say it. Sinister!”

Louis-Marie shrugged. He was overcome by a vague, incomprehensible sadness. He wondered where Pauline was.

Aurélien’s meeting with Lucas was stormy. Furious at having been betrayed by a man he’d trusted and upset at not having noticed anything himself, Aurélien was particularly haughty and unpleasant. Lucas put up with his boss’s criticism and long-winded speech in silence, but he did throw a couple of hateful glances at Jules. He stepped out of the office, head low, without having uttered a single word. Aurélien told Jules that he’d made himself an enemy and that Lucas would no doubt hold all this against him for a long time. He added that, since his sons had insisted that Lucas keep his job, they’d have to live with the consequences of their decision. Before dismissing them, he told them that he’d been visited by his brothers, and that the incident at least had had the merit of uniting his four brothers, for once.

He spent the rest of the afternoon pacing in his office, worried. He knew that Jules wasn’t going to be around for dinner, and he thought that if Lucas didn’t try to get back at his son, Maurice Caze would sooner or later, because of his daughter.

He hoped to be around long enough to protect Jules, all the while knowing full well that his son didn’t need anyone to defend him.

It was Pauline’s voice and her bursts of laughter that distracted him from his musings. He joined his family in the main living room, where everyone was enjoying drinks. Pauline was waltzing around Jules, throwing cheerful compliments his way. He was wearing a dark-blue suit, a white shirt, and a tie, and he seemed amused by the others’ surprise, very comfortable with the unexpected elegance.

“Going to the ball?” Robert asked, chuckling.

“Wow!” added Louis-Marie. “Are you about to ask someone to marry you or something? Where are your white gloves?”

Aurélien sat down, giving his son a head-to-toe.

“My dear brother-in-law,” Pauline said, “I never pictured you in such an elegant suit. You look … perfect! I mean it. …”

Relaxed, Jules only laughed at the onslaught of quips.

“You’re like flies,” he said. “I should’ve escaped through the kitchen.”

Laurène stood to the side, not participating in the banter. As much as she didn’t want to, she felt jealous and miserable. That Jules would go to such trouble to appeal to Camille made no sense to her. He’d always been himself, and to witness this sudden change of attitude filled her with despair. She figured he really was in love with Camille.

Pauline, on a roll, kept up her chattering, “Aurélien, you should require everyone to wear a tie at dinner time!”

“What,” Jules said, laughing, “you think that we always dress like hillbillies?”

He finished his glass of whisky, which was another novelty. Wine was his drink of choice. But in all fairness, the thought of the upcoming evening made Jules feel he needed it. He didn’t have much fun in Camille’s presence. But he was going for it, knowing that Laurène would be anything but indifferent toward his date. He crossed the living room to wish his father a good evening.

“That getup,” Aurélien said, “it’s really just for Camille’s sake?”

He was proud of his son and winked at him.

“Have a good evening, cowboy, and take it easy driving home.”

Jules gave Laurène a distracted smile as he passed her. After he left the room, it took a while for the conversation to get going again.

Camille beamed with happiness. It seemed to her that all the women in the restaurant envied her; the way they were gawking at Jules was telling. She’d dragged him to the most expensive and snobbish restaurant in town, and she’d insisted on ordering the food herself.

With the very first course, he felt aggravated. He looked at the frog legs with disgust and didn’t touch them. But for Camille, Jules’s dark moods were part of his charm. She had no clue who he really was.

The maître d’ was just as stuffy as the décor. Almost everyone in the restaurant knew one another, as they all belonged to Médoc’s upper class. Camille couldn’t stop wiggling in her chair she was so wound up.

“Are you all ready for the harvest at Fonteyne?” she asked, with a ridiculous look on her face.

“Yes, why? You’re having problems in Saint-Julien?”

Camille broke into giggles.

“I have no idea! That stuff about vineyards bores me. I leave it to Daddy.”

She was playing the role of the spoiled young woman. Jules didn’t care for it, and he gave her an indifferent smile.

“You shouldn’t,” he said.

He lowered his eyes on the dish that the waiter was setting in front of him and sighed.

“You’ll see,” Camille said. “It’s exquisite!”

“I’m not hungry,” Jules said to excuse his lack of enthusiasm.

“Taste it!”

He leaned back in his chair and watched her eat. He was dying for a smoke, and he couldn’t wait for Camille to be done eating. He examined her. She was well dressed, wore little makeup, and her bare shoulders should have turned him on. But he wasn’t attracted to her at all.

“If we have to,” she said, “we’ll go to all the restaurants in town, but I want to see you happy to eat at least one time.”

“The region’s best food is at Fonteyne,” he said.

He regretted being there. It was becoming more and more obvious that Camille was in love with him. He wondered what on earth had possessed him to play this stupid game.

“Daddy loves it when you take me out because he’s free to do what he wants. He’s as big a philanderer as your father.”

Jules glared at her.

“My father is no philanderer.”

Camille burst out laughing.

“Come on, Jules. People say things. They also say that you’re the one running things at Fonteyne.”

Jules threw down his napkin and shot back, “Why would you listen to junk like that? Can you picture me shoving Aurélien to the sidelines? He’s the best wine producer there is, and Fonteyne belongs to him, to the last vine. He’s still not retired, believe me.”

Pouting because Jules had been brisk with her, Camille said, “This wine is heavy. … Can you order something lighter?”

Jules gestured at the sommelier and ordered some champagne.

The champagne arrived. He smiled at her, and they raised their glasses.

“To us,” she said with a smile.

He acquiesced in silence. She was looking at him, her eyes sparkling.

“Can I tell you something … something terrible?”

“Yes.”

He was waiting, leaning over the table, and she was melting in front of him.

“I like you,” she said, her face turning red. “I shouldn’t tell you that, I know. Daddy says—”

“Can’t you leave your father out of the conversation for one minute?”

Taken aback, Camille stiffened in her chair. He gave her a cold stare, and that troubled her even more.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I shouldn’t have. I’m a bit clumsy with you. …”

“Yes, you are,” he said, distant.

She lowered her head and started eating again, in silence. He felt bad for her, but found nothing nice to say. He’d touched none of the food that had been served, and he felt a bit drunk. He forced himself to say something.

“Listen, Camille … I think we should leave things where they are for the moment, you know … ?”

Surprised, she glared at him.

“Where they are? And where’s that?”

“Well … nowhere, really.”

Unexpectedly, she smiled at him.

“I know it’s going to take time for me to tame you,” she said.

He had to control himself to keep from showing the irritation he felt. Even though Camille didn’t want to understand, he refrained from acting like a lout. He paid the astronomical bill without batting an eye and drove all the way to Saint-Julien with teeth clenched. He made his way up the driveway and stopped the car in front of the Cazes’ castle.

With a soft voice, she asked, “You want to come in for a second? Daddy is probably still up …”

Jules declined her offer and went to kiss her on the cheek. But at the last second she turned her head and their lips brushed. Then he waited until she was inside and took off like a shot. Since the beginning of dinner, all he’d thought about was Laurène. The cure was worse than the disease, and he decided that he’d never go out with Camille again. He drove to Bordeaux and looked for a nightclub. He didn’t want to go back to Fonteyne, where he couldn’t stand being alone. At the bar, he flirted with a beautiful young woman who seemed bored among a group of loud people. He’d removed his tie and unfastened his shirt collar, happy to free his neck. He was young, unconscious of the charm he exerted on others, indifferent to all the eyes that were on him.

Half-drunk, he took the young woman to a hotel. For some weird reason, he chose the hotel where he had run into Robert and Pauline. As soon as they set foot in the room, the young woman began to laugh nervously.

“I’m sorry,” she said once she calmed down. “It’s just that … this is the first time that I’ve done this with someone I don’t know. You’re very good-looking, but I’m a bit … worried.”

She laughed again and asked, “You told me your name before we left, but with all that noise I didn’t hear it.”

Jules was watching her, exhausted.

She added, “We both know why we’re here, and you didn’t force me, but just give me a couple of moments before we do anything.”

He sat on a hideous-looking rattan chair on the other side of the room.

“My name is Jules Laverzac,” he said. “I live near Margaux. I’m no sadist and, besides, I’ve had way too much to drink. So don’t worry. …”

She frowned as she heard his name.

“Laverzac? You’re one of the four brothers?”

“The youngest,” he said with a smile. “The adopted one.”

“I’ve seen your father quite a bit. I work for his notary, Mr. Varin.”

They were almost embarrassed to know so much about each other. They kept quiet for a moment, and then she headed for the bathroom as Jules took off his jacket.

When she came back, he was in bed, smoking a cigarette. She’d undressed completely, and he watched her come his way, fascinated.

“My name is Frédérique,” she said as she slid between the bedsheets.

He wasn’t moving, wasn’t touching her. She leaned on her elbow, nonchalantly.

“You’re in no shape to make love? It doesn’t matter.”

He put out his cigarette and turned to her. Since he knew her, if only barely, he couldn’t very well shy away from her. Besides, he was the one who’d taken her to the hotel. He’d had too much to drink, no doubt, but he wanted her badly. He drew Frédérique to him and saw that she had magnificent gray eyes. She smelled good, and she was smiling just a little. She let him take the initiative. He had no difficulty satisfying her and he, himself, enjoyed it much more than he’d expected. She probably wasn’t very experienced, as she put a sort of child-like tenderness into all of her movements. Almost immediately, he made love to her a second time.

When he got up, he felt happy, or at least at peace with himself. He got dressed and kneeled by the bed.

“Thank you,” he said with complete sincerity.

She laughed once again, but much more joyfully than she had an hour before.

“Thank you, too. …” she said. “If we’re going to be polite …”

For a fleeting moment he thought about Laurène and the way she’d poisoned his life the past few weeks, and he got angry.

“You want a lift?” he asked.

“Now?”

“Whenever you want.”

He got back to his feet, lit a cigarette, and handed her the pack.

“Do you smoke?”

She took one, smiling.

“No,” she said, “but that’s what you’re supposed to do after lovemaking, right? A moment of calm after the storm. …”

Jules wished that this moment of calm would go on, but it was very late and the room wasn’t ideal.

“I’m going to come out and say something that’s kind of crazy for three in the morning,” he warned her. “I’d love to see you again.”

Suddenly intimidated, she reached for her blouse, but Jules was quicker, and he handed it to her.

“Would you like me to wait for you downstairs?” he asked.

“Please,” she muttered.

The careful courtesy he exhibited protected them from superfluous affection, but it also put a barrier between them. Jules flipped his jacket over his shoulder and smiled at Frédérique before stepping out of the room.

It was past four in the morning when Jules parked the Mercedes in the garage. For the first time that summer, he felt less fixated on Laurène. He hoped that this state of mind would continue, as he really needed to free himself from his obsession, to be himself again.

Something moved in front of the car and immediately he was on the lookout. In the feeble glow given off by the car’s dome light, he made out a shadow coming his way. Then he recognized Lucas. In an instant he sobered up, on his guard and worried.

“You’re coming home late, kid,” Lucas said with exaggerated aggression.

Jules got out of the car and leaned against its hood.

“What are you doing here?” he asked. “You should go to bed. …”

He knew what Lucas had in mind, and he didn’t know how he was going to avoid a confrontation.

“So,” Lucas said, “your old man didn’t go along with it, did he? You couldn’t get me canned?”

It was obvious that Lucas was looking for a fight. Jules thought of his broken ribs.

“I’ve been waiting for you a long time, but at this hour we ought to be left alone. It’s hard to settle the score when your brothers and your father are around, don’t you think?”

Lucas was almost as tall as Jules, stocky and strong. Only he was sixty years old.

“That’s what you want, Lucas? To beat the crap out of me? And then what? What about tomorrow?”

Jules’s tone of voice was calm, but Lucas interrupted him.

“I don’t give a damn about tomorrow.”

“What about Fernande?”

“Leave Fernande alone. Don’t you try to hide behind the maid.”

Lucas broke out into hateful laughter. Jules hadn’t moved, and he made another attempt to calm things down.

“Lucas, go home. …”

Jules was too proud to be taken for a coward, and he was certain that Lucas wouldn’t just walk away. But then Lucas punched him in the stomach. Jules got the wind knocked out of him and he hung onto the Mercedes.

“I’ve had enough of you bossing me around, you little piece of shit. No one even knows where the hell you came from!”

He charged again. Jules had no choice. He took a swing and connected. Lucas swore. Then the two struggled in silence for a while. Jules knew that he would come out on top as long as the fight didn’t go on for too long. His ribs were hurting terribly. He managed to immobilize Lucas by twisting his arm behind his back.

“You’re digging your own grave, you moron,” Jules told him. “You should thank your wife.”

Lucas tried to free himself, but he screamed in pain. Jules wasn’t letting his arm go. If anything, his grip tightened.

“Don’t you get it, Lucas? If it weren’t for Fernande, I’d have fired your ass and sent you to jail for fraud. You wanted a fight, you got one! You couldn’t stand that I caught you red-handed? What did you think, that I’d let you screw me without saying a word? And Aurélien has no intention of looking like the biggest sucker in Médoc. If you want to leave Fonteyne, good riddance. But where would you go, you poor bastard?”

Lucas was taken aback by Jules’s words. Ever since he was a kid, Jules had addressed him with respect. He felt his shoulder going numb, and he knew he’d never be able to escape Jules’s grip.

“Let me go,” he said with a barely audible voice.

Jules straightened and let Lucas go. They faced each other tensely. Jules was staggering with fatigue. He felt dizzy and nauseous. Lucas was staring at him, wondering why he looked so exhausted. He shook his head bitterly.

“I only wish I wasn’t too old to beat the crap out of you,” he said. “You son of a whore. …”

Jules shrugged his shoulders and said, “You don’t know that. …”

They headed for the exit, side by side. Jules felt as though Lucas was softening a little.

“Lucas?”

“Yeah,” Lucas grumbled. “I’ll pack up and leave today, don’t worry.”

“No way. If Fernande leaves because of you, I’ll beat you to a pulp. You understand that?”

Jules was now facing Lucas. It was his turn to be menacing, and Lucas hesitated to take a step.

“Why would you steal from us, you lowlife? Just a few bottles, wasn’t it? You just needed to ask for a raise if you needed the cash, we would’ve said yes. Your wife is a maid, sure. So what? Everyone around here respects her. But you, you’ll end up being hated by all of us. You work on an estate of this quality and all you want to do is steal a few bucks off the bosses’ backs? You?”

Jules caught his breath. Lucas had taken a step back, wary.

“If you’re dumb enough to leave now, I have no idea who I’d hire to replace you. But you can believe me when I say that I’d tell everyone in the damn country about your tendencies as a thief. You know how small a world this is. You’d have to go to Australia to try to find work after that!”

Lucas lowered his head. His anger was gone, and he was listening to what Jules was saying.

Suddenly conciliatory, Jules said, “The harvest is right around the corner and I need you. Let’s forget about all this. …”

Lucas planted his eyes on Jules’s. He was confused.

“If you weren’t such a good cellar master, I wouldn’t put up with your antics. But I know how valuable you are. Let’s wipe the slate clean, okay? And let’s both of us go home now.”

Lucas turned away, incredulous. His chin was trembling. He found nothing to say and went staggering down the driveway. Jules let him go, figuring he had resolved the issue. On edge, completely spent and numb with fatigue, he made his way to his bedroom, sick at the thought that he had only an hour or two to sleep.

And at seven o’clock, Fernande came up to wake him, as Aurélien was already losing patience in his office. She was as pleasant as usual, and so Jules concluded that Lucas hadn’t talked to her about what had happened. He went down the stairs and was greeted by his father.

“Holy cow, Jules! Take a look at yourself. You had that hot a date with Camille? I warned you.”

Aurélien, excited by the coming harvest, couldn’t stand still. He bombarded Jules with questions and barely gave him time to answer them. Alexandre’s absence put him in a foul mood, and it took everything Jules could think of to finally make his father smile.

“I estimated the harvest, a very rough estimate. … The vineyards are completely cleared now, and the leaves have yellowed. And the official proclamation on the harvest will come soon. …”

Jules spoke and Aurélien listened to him, head low. When it came to grapes, they were always in perfect harmony. Aurélien needed to be both reassured and in charge. Jules told him what he wanted to hear, without hiding anything. Aurélien was fully aware of his adopted son’s value, and he had total confidence in him, even when he wasn’t altogether thrilled by this or that innovation.

“Why don’t you go down to the cellar?” Jules suggested.

He wanted his father to get out of the office and walk around a bit. He didn’t think Aurélien looked all that well, though he didn’t dare say so out loud. Since Aurélien had started suffering from chest pains, Jules kept a close eye on him. He was convinced that his father was as essential to him as oxygen or the vines. His life’s horizons stopped at Fonteyne, and he wanted nothing to change. Not even Lucas’s presence.

He ran into the cellar master a bit later that morning and talked to him as though nothing had happened. He warned him about Aurélien’s lousy mood. Lucas, who’d also had very little sleep, was relieved by Jules’s attitude. His animosity gave way to bemused gratitude. He regretted his own betrayal and wanted to make it right. The Laverzac family got on his nerves at times, but his position at Fonteyne was worth a bit of patience on his part, he knew that. He could not let an entire life taking care of the vines with love end in shame and mediocrity. Jules’s lecture had humiliated him while also, paradoxically, diluting his rancor.

At eleven, Jules went over to the kitchen for some coffee. There he found Dominique and Fernande talking about the upcoming week’s meals. Laurène was at the far end of a bench, and Jules sat at the other end.

“What are you planning for lunch today?” he asked his sister-in-law. “How about something light for a change?”

Dominique burst out laughing and set a mug in front of Jules.

“That’s exactly what you’re going to get,” she said. “You don’t know about today’s program? Let me just tell you, it wasn’t my idea. It’s Pauline’s. …”

Fernande was also laughing.

“What?” Jules asked.

“A picnic by the river!” Dominique said. “And everybody has to come. Aurélien just gave his blessing. He always seems to get a kick out of Pauline’s schemes.”

“Oh, come on,” Jules said. “She’s crazy. … You really think we’ve got that kind of time to waste?”

Laurène turned to Jules and very calmly said, “Having dinner here or outside, you’re wasting two hours either way. …”

Jules didn’t even bother glancing her way.

“Your brothers will love it,” Dominique said.

“The Parisians? Of course they’ll love it. They’re on vacation. A picnic. … Pauline would have that kind of idea!”

“Why are you in such a bad mood?” Laurène asked.

This time, he had to turn her way.

“I’m not. …”

“Yes, you are. You had that rotten an evening?”

Without a word, Jules got to his feet. He hadn’t touched his coffee.

“If you want to invite Camille,” Laurène added, “there’s going to be plenty of food. What we wouldn’t do to see you smile again. …”

She was mocking him, and he was in no mood to use the same tone with her. He left the kitchen, furious.

Dominique whistled between her teeth and said, “Well, I can see that things are getting much better between you two. …”

“I’m tired of being the hangdog around Jules. From now on, I’m going to talk to him the way he talks to me.”

“That’s going to be charming.”

Laurène shrugged. “It can’t be any worse than it’s been lately.”

She looked out the window. The sun was shining. Pauline was lucky. Her projects always turned out to be successful.

At about one, Aurélien and Jules joined the rest of the family by the small Urq River. The kids were running all over the place with Jules’s dog. Fernande and Dominique had emptied out huge baskets and were spreading the food across Scottish blankets. Louis-Marie and Alexandre had gone for a swim and were now drying off by fishing in the sun. Lucas was trying, with little success, to teach them how to fly-fish. Robert walked up to his father.

“And two more,” he said. “There’s going to be thirteen of us at the table.”

“What table?” Jules asked. He glanced at the blanket, making a face.

“Come on,” Robert said. “Don’t be a killjoy. It won’t hurt anyone to have a good time.”

Jules followed him to the river’s shore.

“Next week we’ll be gone,” said Robert, “and you’re going to miss us. Remember all the moronic stuff we did in this river?”

“We should’ve drowned ten times over,” Jules said, smiling.

Little by little, he was relaxing. In spite of their disagreements, he enjoyed Robert’s presence. The idea of loving his brother instead of hating him cheered Jules up. He was going to say something, when Laurène came up to them and deliberately stood between them.

“Do you mind?” she asked, with unusual boldness.

Robert moved aside a little, annoyed, while Jules looked off in the distance, toward the river.

“It’s a hot day, isn’t it?” Laurène said.

She took off her T-shirt and shorts, revealing nothing but a tiny bikini.

“We haven’t had much chance to swim this summer,” she said.

She seemed happy and carefree. Robert, uncomfortable, glanced at his brother. Jules remained still.

“Can you spread some sunscreen on my back? Otherwise I’ll be as red as a lobster!”

She handed Jules a tube of sunblock, a fake look of innocence on her face. Aurélien was observing them from a short distance. Jules felt foolish. He swallowed and grabbed the tube.

“Where?” he asked in a voice he meant to sound cruel, but it only came off as weak.

Laurène lay on her stomach and he kneeled down beside her.

“My shoulders,” she said. “If you don’t mind. …”

He began spreading lotion on Laurène’s body, still under Aurélien’s amused gaze. But caressing Laurène’s skin this way immediately made him long for her. She turned to Jules and gave him a mocking smile.

“Thank you. …”

She leaned against Jules to get back on her feet. She could see that he was nervous, quivering, and she regretted having waited so long to provoke him this way. She’d heard him come back to his room at five that morning only to conclude, wrongly, that he’d made Camille his lover. Knowing Maurice Caze, Jules’s actions proved that he wanted to marry Camille, otherwise he never would’ve been foolish enough to drive her back home at dawn. The idea of Camille and Jules being together made Laurène sick with jealousy, helplessness, and anger. At first she thought that Jules dating Camille was just a fling, or a way to get back at her. But after last night, she had to conclude that things were much more serious between them. She knew that Jules was capable of anything, if only out of spite. Having nothing to lose, and out of a sense of urgency, she’d decided to challenge him. And even though adopting this attitude of outrageous seduction pained her, she was set on pushing the experiment to its limits.

“Tell us about your evening. …” she said in a soft voice.

Jules couldn’t stop looking at her. He was hypnotized by her and felt humiliated by that fact. All that time he’d pretended to ignore her, and all she’d had to do was to get undressed for him to become transfixed. The night he’d spent with Frédérique was turning into some vague memory and was of no help at all to Jules. Robert finally came to the rescue.

“Sorry to disturb your contemplation, but Louis-Marie is calling us over. I think he’s got something at the end of his line.”

Jules managed to get to his feet and absentmindedly followed his brother to the river. Aurélien then went over to Laurène. He, too, was gawking at her, and she felt embarrassed.

“You shouldn’t provoke him that way, kid,” he said. “There’s no telling what he’s going to do if you push him over the edge. And I won’t take your side, just so you know.”

She didn’t hold his stare and quickly grabbed her T-shirt. This game wasn’t fun anymore.

They all gathered on the blankets, around a mountain of sandwiches of various types. Jules had gone for a swim and was last to come out of the river. The picnic was quite loud, as everyone was influenced by Pauline’s good mood. And thanks to the wine, everyone ended up feeling sleepy two hours later.

Jules was lying under a tree, far from the others. As tired as he was, he couldn’t fall asleep. He heard Laurène come his way. She kneeled by his side. He kept his eyes shut, and he felt her hand gently touch his hair.

“Since when are you napping?” she said. “You must’ve had quite a night.”

She meant to mock him, but in reality she felt sad and not at all convinced that she’d chosen the right approach. She ran a fingertip along the scar on his back.

“Stop,” he whispered, without moving.

“What?” she said. “No one can touch you anymore?”

She made sure no one was watching them, and then she quickly bent down and kissed Jules on the back of the head.

“Let’s make peace,” she said. “Okay?”

Jules spun around so quickly he almost toppled Laurène. They wound up nose to nose. Jules looked at her, devoid of anger, ready to capitulate.

“You know,” he said. “About Camille …”

He hesitated, searching for the right words, and once again Laurène misread the situation.

“Oh,” she blurted out, “I see. You’re hooked, are you? The great seducer—”

Upset, Jules interrupted her.

“Will you shut the hell up, for one second?”

“You might be able to order everyone else around, but not me!”

Jules grabbed her by the wrists and shook her.

“What are you trying to prove, Laurène? Why do you act like a slut? If you insist, no problem, I’ll do you right here, right now. In front of the entire family, if that’s what you want!”

He let go of her wrists and got up.

Now aware that she’d misunderstood him, she wanted him to stay.

“Wait!”

“Why? You have something more to show me?”

The stare-down he gave Laurène made her blush.

“You really treat me like I’m a moron,” he said, picking up his shirt off the ground. He’d exhausted all his patience.

“Listen …” Laurène said, holding back her tears.

“Leave me alone, Laurène,” he muttered in an oddly muted voice.

He made his way to the Jeep and sped off.

Laurène thought that no matter what they did, they’d never be able to clear up the misunderstanding between them.

Jules worked relentlessly the entire afternoon. He wore out both Alexandre and Lucas, who wondered about his frenzy. Aurélien came over to the vineyard at the end of the day and left without having said a word but looking satisfied. A bit later, Jules met with him in the cellar and talked to him at length about his intention to buy grape destemming machines. Aurélien listened to him, skeptical.

“You’re going too fast,” he said. “You impose too many changes on me, every year. First I’ll go over to the Soubeys to see how those machines are working out for them.”

Annoyed, Jules shrugged and said, “You demanded that the top of the barrels be varnished, and God knows that’s unusual!”

“I hate those damn purple stains you see everywhere. I want my cellar to be impeccable!”

“And it is, isn’t it?”

Aurélien stared at his son.

“You’re so nervous,” he said. “Is there something specific about the harvest that’s worrying you?”

Jules sighed.

“The wine is going to be supple and rich, but it’s going to lack depth.”

“It’s way too early to say,” Aurélien protested. “Besides, you’re always a prophet of doom and gloom before the harvest.”

They left the cellar and headed for the castle. Jules kept on talking about the vines.

“And there are the vines down the hill. Those are in pretty bad shape. The rain is going to make everything rot. We went for quality over quantity, but nine thousand vines per acre, that’s still too many!”

Aurélien gave him a pat on the back.

“Quit that, Jules, or I’m going to have nightmares all night long.”

But Jules wasn’t in a laughing mood, and throughout dinner talked about all the things he worried about. It was as though he wanted to atone for the time wasted during the picnic. He didn’t even seem to notice Laurène’s absence. She said she had a migraine and went up to bed before dinnertime.

The rain came down unexpectedly at the end of the meal, though that day’s weather had been splendid. Pauline played cards with Louis-Marie, Robert, and Dominique, but Jules continued his conversation with Aurélien. Alex talked about Mazion, where the harvest would begin in two days. The three of them sitting at the back of the main living room looked like conspirators, and Pauline joked about it. At eleven, Aurélien announced that he’d heard enough and he left them. Jules drank some cognac with Alexandre, to raise his spirits a little, and then he also left.

Upstairs, he noticed light under Laurène’s door and he knocked. As there was no answer, he knocked some more.

“Are you going to open up or should I kick in the door?” he asked out loud.

He’d decided to put an end to his feud with Laurène once and for all. Since he’d left the riverbank, he hadn’t stopped thinking about her, in spite of all the work he’d put in since. Convinced that she would drive him insane if he didn’t do something, he wanted to stop this back-and-forth game that prevented him from leading a normal life.

He waited for a couple of seconds, then he took a few steps back. Fonteyne’s doors were solid, but he got the better of Laurène’s with a violent kick. Stunned, Laurène watched him stumble into her bedroom.

“Are you out of your mind?”

“Yes.”

He took a step toward her and she raised the blankets to her chin. They heard Robert’s voice, at the bottom of the staircase, asking if everything was okay.

They answered together, “Everything’s fine!”

Jules went back to shut the door. Its handle was dangling.

“I don’t give a damn about Camille,” he said. “In fact, I didn’t spend the night with her. I slept with a lovely young woman that I hope Aurélien will hire to replace you, since apparently you decided to leave. …”

He realized he was off to a bad start when he saw Laurène’s alarmed expression. He smiled timidly.

“Listen, Laurène,” he began. “I’m tired of lying to you. The harvest is right around the corner, and I’m going to have very little time. I just wanted to tell you that … that …”

Laurène had never seen Jules fumble for his words this way.

“That I love you, you know that, that I can’t sleep at night because of you, and that I won’t be able to stand it much longer. You chose Robert over me, that’s your right. I was wrong to make things so difficult for you. If you’re leaving Fonteyne because of me, it’s a great way to get back at me, because the idea of not seeing you anymore is making me sick to my stomach. But I think you’re right. …”

He’d remained on his side of the bedroom. Laurène knew how difficult it must’ve been for him to say those words. Proud as he was, he’d just admitted that he was dependent on her. He was quiet, waiting for her to saying something back, and he seemed to be ready for anything.

“Come over here,” she said in a low voice. “Please, come. …”

He took a few hesitant steps.

“Jules,” she said, “it’s like I don’t know you anymore.”

“You’re making me crazy, Laurène. …”

They stared at each other, making sure not to say anything that could be misunderstood.

“Would you believe me if I told you that I’ve loved you for years? Since I got here? That you’ve always intimidated me to the point that I’m clumsy and aggressive?”

He looked at her, incredulous.

“Bob,” she said, “that was … nothing.”

He stiffened at the sound of his brother’s name. She held out her hand and said, “I should’ve found the courage to talk to you a long time ago. Come here. …”

He walked over to the bed. Pushing the blankets aside, he took the time to look at her. She let him, still, consenting. She shivered when he put his hands on her, consumed with passion. He was very gentle with her, even though his desire for her smoldered. He’d dreamed about this moment for so long he didn’t want to cut it short. She reached for the nightstand lamp, but he didn’t let her turn off the light.

Jules had been awake for a few moments, and he was caressing Laurène’s hair. He heard the muffled sound of the library’s grandfather clock ringing down below. Asleep, Laurène cuddled against him.

“You’re the love of my life,” he whispered in her ear.

She was still sleeping. He slowly tried to move away from her, but she opened her eyes, saw him, and smiled. Then she pressed her body against his, her face against his shoulder. Flashbacks from the night they’d just spent together came to her, and she felt her face redden. She’d never imagined how great lovemaking could be before this man had climbed into her bed. He looked at her expression and began to laugh.

“I have to get up. …” he said.

But he let his hands wander on her body, and she bit her lower lip. He then stood and stretched, amused at the sight of her disappointment.

“Jules … what are we going to do?”

“Make love every night, of course. In secret!”

He laughed again, but she asked, “Why do we have to hide?”

“Right now, it’s a bit difficult to …”

“To what?”

“Listen, you announced that you were going back to Mazion, and I’m leaving for England in November. I think we should wait until Christmas to tell my father and yours. … And I’m going to have to deal with Maurice Caze between now and then!”

She looked at him, eyebrows furrowed, trying to understand. But she didn’t want to contradict him.

“Be honest, Jules,” she said. “You’re hesitant because of Aurélien, right? Because of the harvest?”

“Yes. … And no matter what I told him right now about us, he wouldn’t respond well. He’s irritated by what’s going on between us, and he only knows half of it!”

He’d meant to make her smile, but she remained stone-faced.

“I’m always going to be second fiddle to Aurélien?”

It was more an observation than a question.

“To Aurélien and Fonteyne, probably,” he said, honestly. “But above everything else, I swear!”

He came back to Laurène and took her in his arms.

“By January, everything will be settled. I give you my word. And, if you agree, we could get married in the spring.”

She broke into a radiant smile, and he looked at her with great passion.

“You’re going to give me four sons,” he said.

“And a daughter!”

“Yes, a pretty girl, just like you.”

He kissed her and then said, “I really have to go. …”

She followed him with her eyes. She’d always loved his lean frame, the way he walked, the way he moved. He put on his jeans, his shirt.

“As long as the grapes aren’t harvested, I won’t relax and I won’t be able to do what I really want. You understand that, right?”

She nodded yes and then said, “Jules … are you mad at me because of Bob?”

He shrugged, more annoyed than indifferent.

“Of course,” he said. “It was so unnecessary. …”

“When I’m back in Mazion,” she said, “are you really going to hire that woman?”

Jules sniggered.

“Of course! Aurélien needs a good-looking secretary! He’d be miserable otherwise.”

She forced herself to smile. She certainly didn’t want to stir up some stormy discussion between them. He lit a cigarette, walked over to her, and took her hand. Then, ever so gently, he kissed her wrist.

“I love you,” he said, softly. “When do you have to leave?”

“Tomorrow or the day after. …”

He seemed deep in thought suddenly but offered no comment. He headed for the door looking anxious. He turned to Laurène, hesitant, and said, “I need you to know … I’m not sure you know this about me … but if you ever behave with a man the way you did during the picnic, it will end badly.”

“You’re the jealous type?” Laurène asked. Her eyes were shining. “What a compliment, Jules!” she said. “Yes, yes! I want you to be jealous!”

Bewildered, he watched her hide her head under the covers with a loud burst of laughter. He stepped out of the room, smiling as he glanced at the door handle still dangling, and he ran down the stairs to his father’s office. He forgot to knock and was taken aback by his father’s stern expression.

“You look more and more tired,” Aurélien said. “That bodes well! You guys made an awful lot of noise up there!”

Jules was startled and avoided looking at his father.

“It sounded like you were kicking down doors when you went to sleep. I almost went back upstairs to calm things down. Anyway, you do what you want. … Coffee?”

Jules sat down, wondering what Aurélien really knew.

“I’m going to a wine producers’ meeting tonight,” Aurélien said, “and so you’re going to have dinner without me. Before that, I’ll go over to Antoine’s. Poor guy won’t be allowed to have a decent meal anytime soon. … Hey, are you sleeping? All right, are we checking out the cellar or what?”

Jules followed him out to the terrace, trying to come up with something that might lighten Aurélien’s mood.

Finally, he asked, “Have you thought of someone to replace Laurène?”

“I haven’t had time for that. Why?”

“Because if you’d like to sleep with your notary’s secretary, I know her, and she’s very pretty.”

“Oh yeah?”

Aurélien had stopped in his tracks, the semblance of a smile on his face.

“I never know what you mean exactly when you say you ‘know’ someone,” he said.

“You’re going to like her a lot.”

“That much? You’re sucking up to me, aren’t you? Or you’re offering me compensation for something. … But what could it be? Did you steal something from me?”

Jules burst into his usual light laughter, which almost always stirred something inside Aurélien.

“You’re a happy fellow this morning, aren’t you?”

“It’s the harvest! We’re almost there!”

Aurélien took Jules by the arm, and they made their way to the cellar.

“I’m warning you, son, I’m going to hold you responsible for everything this year. So you’d better be sure of yourself, otherwise we’re done with your initiatives and your innovations!”

Jules began to defend himself, forgetting all about Laurène.

As he was getting dressed for his meeting, Aurélien thought about Robert and Louis-Marie’s impending departure and felt little sadness. He liked them both, but was getting tired of living with them. And with the harvest right around the corner, he couldn’t stand anything that would distract him, even if only a little.

When he was ready, he left his room and walked over to the garage. He gave Robert’s Porsche a derisive glance. He thought that indulging in such whims at the age of thirty-six was completely idiotic.

I’d done so much by the time I was thirty-six! he thought.

He’d put Fonteyne back in order, expanded it by purchasing lands as soon as he found them, raised his four sons. Thinking of his youth made Aurélien smile. He’d been, just like Jules, both a ladies’ man and a brawler. His cheerfulness evaporated at the thought of his adopted son. He didn’t want to talk to him directly about it, but he worried about how tired he looked.

Laurène will be gone, but that doesn’t mean we’re necessarily going to have peace and quiet. And what about that secretary? I’m going to have to ask Varin about her. …

He took a look at the clock on the dashboard. He had plenty of time to go visit Antoine before heading for Bordeaux, where the meeting was being held.

Marie greeted Aurélien kindly, flattered by his visit, and she took him to Antoine’s bedroom. Aurélien stopped for a second on the threshold, taken aback by how bad his old friend looked.

“So, you’re still here, you lazy bum?”

“As you can see. …”

They looked at each other, both made uneasy by Antoine’s sickness. They had been friends for a long time, though these past few years they’d spent time together only during lavish feasts, mostly at Fonteyne.

“Alex is very nice, you know.”

“You’re telling me! He’s spending way too much time around here.”

This was said only half-jokingly, and Antoine got upset.

“It’s for his own good,” he said. “Alex is going to be in charge of my vineyards sooner or later.”

“Hopefully not sooner than later,” Aurélien said. “You’re not dead yet! And I can’t see Alex producing white wine his entire life, the poor guy. …”

Antoine started to laugh, amused by Aurélien’s spite.

“He doesn’t seem to mind it,” he said. “At least in Mazion, he does what he pleases. You have to be made out of rock, like Jules, to be able to stand you. At least that’s what I hear. …”

Aurélien, on the verge of anger, frowned.

“Say what you want,” he said, “I do miss Alex back at Fonteyne.”

“You’ve got Jules, Lucas, and the supervisors! You can harvest without him.”

Right away Antoine regretted having said those words. Aurélien’s eyes were ablaze with fury.

“Alex will be on my land when harvest comes, I’ll tell you that much right now! I don’t give a damn about your vineyards.”

Antoine raised his hand to make Aurélien stop.

“Come on, calm down. You’re not going to make a scene here. I’m sick, remember?”

“So what? I’m not the Red Cross, and neither are my sons!”

“Damn it, Aurélien. It bothers you that much that your sons are helping me out?”

“Yes!”

This cry from the heart made Antoine angry.

“Your sons like me, and there’s nothing you can do about it. I’m Alex’s father-in-law, and Jules would’ve liked to be in the same position.”

Aurélien, wild with rage, exploded in spite of himself.

“You’re out of your mind! You think your wishes are reality? Yes, wouldn’t you love to have two Laverzacs as sons-in-law? You could keep one for yourself, is that it? But it’s not going to happen! My estate is huge. It’s not some two-bit operation, and I need all my people. You can’t be comparing my land with yours—that’s insane!”

Antoine straightened in his bed. He was pale as a ghost.

“Yes …” he said, slowly. “It’s true that you let two of your four sons go. … Not everyone has a passion for the land in your family. … Listen, Aurélien, if you hadn’t had the brilliant idea of adopting Jules, you’d be neck-deep in troubles today. … You think it’s easy for me to have two daughters and a son-in-law busy elsewhere? I worked just as hard as you did, even if I didn’t succeed as much as you, even if it’s not on the same scale, even if my wine is less noble. … But I wasn’t born with a silver spoon in my mouth, and my wife’s family didn’t own a bunch of land. You think you’re the cat’s meow, but you don’t impress me one bit!”

Aurélien knew he’d gone over the line earlier, but no one in years had dared talk to him the way Antoine just had.

“My poor Antoine,” he said. “You try to scare me with those three or four measly vines of yours, then make me feel sorry for you and your woes. I never would’ve expected it from you. That heart attack made you weak.”

Antoine suppressed a curse and called out in a loud voice, “Marie! Marie!”

As he waited for his wife to arrive, he glared at Aurélien. As soon as she walked into the room, he said, “Show Aurélien to the door. I don’t ever want to see this son of a bitch in my house again.”

In Marie’s presence, Aurélien couldn’t back down. Even though he realized he’d been out of line, he clammed up and stormed out of Antoine’s room. Marie, though distressed, did nothing to stop him.

Jules was smoking in the darkness of the bedroom, happy to feel Laurène sleeping right against him. She displayed so much inexperience during their lovemaking that he found himself deeply moved. She’d made huge efforts during the day not to look or smile at him, for fear of betraying herself. But she beamed with joy—anyone would have had to be blind not to see it. A couple of times Aurélien had observed her, intrigued. Jules wondered how he was going to tell his father about him and Laurène. And how he’d react to the news!

He caressed Laurène’s soft and warm skin. He’d stubbornly and passionately wanted her. Still, her departure for Mazion, far from driving him to despair, almost relieved him.

He heard the sound of the Mercedes and realized that he’d unconsciously been waiting for Aurélien’s return. He listened to the noises of the house and suddenly held his breath. Aurélien was coming up the stairs instead of heading down to his room. Jules jumped out of bed, put on his jeans in a hurry, and slipped into the hallway. He barely made it to his bedroom before Aurélien walked in and hit the light switch.

“You awake?”

Without waiting for an answer, Aurélien went over to the old leather armchair by the fireplace and sat down heavily.

“What a night,” he grumbled.

Jules remained on the defensive, surprised still by this unexpected visit. Aurélien almost never set foot upstairs.

“Something wrong?” he ventured.

Aurélien looked at him and asked, “You always sleep in your jeans?” He wasn’t smiling, keeping his morose expression. “Jules …” he said, “what would happen if Antoine and I had … a falling-out?”

The words stunned Jules. He stared at his father, then got out of bed and walked toward the armchair.

“Why?” he asked. “It’s already happened?”

“Yes. … I’m not sure what really happened. I’ve had too much to drink since. … I think it had to do with Alex. And you.”

Jules tried to imagine what might’ve occurred between the two men.

“What about Alex and me?” he asked.

“I’ve given you so much leeway, each and every one of you. …”

He did seem to be drunk, as he’d said, but he was keeping his cool.

He continued, “That old fool would love for you to be his second son-in-law. And, by some kind of double-dealing, for Alex to fall into his trap for good. He’s had that in mind for a long time, and now he’s trying to plan for his retirement. He’s always been jealous of us. … Talk about a phony friendship. He wants my vineyards for his grandchildren and for my son to do all the work for him to boot!”

Jules listened to his father, horrified.

“And let me tell you one thing, Jules. There’s no way Alex won’t be here with us for the harvest. Until the very last grape on the very last parcel of land is picked. I’m still in charge around here!”

Hesitant, Jules took a couple of steps toward his father.

“Maybe we should talk about all this tomorrow?” he said.

“No!”

“You’re not really in any shape to discuss this—”

Jules conciliatory voice was interrupted by Aurélien’s scathing tone.

“I’m warning you, you’re going to wind up in the doghouse if you keep this up.”

Silence fell between them. Jules buried his hands in his pockets. He knew there was nothing he could do about the situation at the moment.

In a neutral voice, he asked, “Want me to help you to your room?”

“First answer me,” Aurélien said.

Jules stifled a sigh of exasperation.

“Answer you what?” he said. “Alex will either do what you tell him or he’s going to decide for himself. I have no idea. …”

“What about you?”

Jules forced a smile. The accusation was loud and clear.

“Me?” he said. “I’m always on your side, whatever happens. But I think that everything can be done correctly both here and at Mazion at the right time. You had a fight with Antoine? So what? You’re not going to let his grapes rot on their vines, are you?”

His dark eyes were riveted on his father’s. Aurélien finally lowered his head.

“Can I give you a hand now?” Jules said.

Aurélien got up. As he was staggering, Jules grabbed him by the arm.

“Things will end up badly between us one day,” Aurélien said.

“Why do you say that?”

Aurélien shrugged and held onto Jules. They both walked out of the bedroom and crossed the hallway to the staircase.

“Do you know why I forced you to go away to school? Because I figured that as soon as you began taking care of Fonteyne, it would be the beginning of the end for me. You’d be going up, while I’d be coming down. And we’d meet up at some point. Oh yes! And on top of that, you’re always so … You make my blood run cold. That’s it! That’s what you do to me.”

They were now in front of Aurélien’s bedroom door. Jules opened it and guided his father to his bed, then took a few steps back without looking at him.

“You’re not saying anything? You let me speak because I’m drunk? Because you’re finally finding out some of the things that are on my mind?”

Jules wanted to leave. Aurélien’s underlying aggression was unbearable.

“I’m out of here,” he managed to say.

“Yeah, go ahead. Leave. …”

In the hallway, Jules leaned against a wall for a second. He wondered whether his father would be able to get undressed and into bed by himself. But he went straight for the library, where he turned on a bouillotte lamp and poured himself a drink. He remained still for a long time, glass in hand, deep in thought.

Aurélien’s comments, though uttered while drunk, didn’t completely surprise Jules. The timing of the fight with Antoine seemed too perfect to be innocent. Did Aurélien know that Jules and Laurène had made up? Was he trying to protect himself by creating chaos between the families? He was cunning enough for that. Breaking ties with Antoine would force Jules to keep quiet about Laurène.

I wanted to keep quiet anyway! Why? Why …

Had he been a coconspirator without knowing it? Jules shivered. He was still in his jeans, bare-chested, and the air in the library was cold. He poured a bit more cognac in his glass and leaned against the sliding ladder. The antique lamp shed just a bit of light in the large room.

I didn’t want to force Laurène on him. To rub his nose in it. To go back on my word. … I gave him time. … Time to find someone else. …

The sound of rainfall took him out of his meditation.

Again! We can’t catch a single break this year.

He set his glass down hard, saw a drop of cognac on the table, and made it disappear with his fingertip. He then turned off the lamp and left the library. Once upstairs, he hesitated in front of Laurène’s door but decided to go sleep in his own bed.

She angrily stuffed her things into two suitcases. She wasn’t doing it right and her clothes were overflowing. Jules was looking at her, feeling awful. He’d come to her bedroom early and told her the latest news.

“Your father, my father, wine, inflated egos—I’m so fed up!” is all she’d said about it.

He tried to calm her, swore that the feud would only be temporary, that he’d go see her each day in Mazion until he was able to talk to Aurélien.

She shrugged and said, “You? In Mazion? During harvest? You won’t have the time, and you know that full well. Fonteyne above everything else! And Alex is going to do just like you: what he’s told. No chance of getting away from the vines for even five minutes.”

Then Jules started to shout, too.

“What, you want me to just leave here and harvest over at your father’s?”

Then he regretted his outburst and took her in his arms. He cajoled her for a long time.

“All right,” she wound up saying, “we’ll go into hiding and wait until our fathers make up. …”

She lacked conviction, and he felt obligated to ask, “You’d feel better if we had a bigger crisis on our hands? If you really want to, let’s go to Aurélien right now together. I mean it, I don’t want to lose you for so little.”

But she grabbed him by the arm.

“For so little? Fonteyne? Your father? You think I’m that stupid? Things between us already had a rough start, let’s not add any more difficulties. You’re the one who’s right.”

She finished packing in silence, but as he was heading for the door, she asked him, in a tiny little voice, “If I’d gone along with it earlier, would you really have gone to your father?”

She waited in vain for an answer, and he stepped out of the room without turning around. Holding back her tears, she closed her suitcases. Her place right now was with her mother in Mazion, she was certain of that, but the idea of leaving Fonteyne tore her apart inside.

Lucas had parked the Mercedes in front of the terrace and loaded Laurène’s suitcases in the trunk. The entire family was outside, with Fernande standing in the background, sorry to see the young woman go. Robert kissed Laurène with obvious embarrassment, as he wondered to what extent he was responsible for all these upheavals. Jules, sitting on the stone balustrade, seemed detached.

Aurélien, emerging from his office, came out last. He went over to Laurène with a smile on his face and grabbed her by the shoulders affectionately. He looked emotional.

“Kiddo,” he began, “old men’s quarrels have nothing to do with you. …”

Jules strained his ears but stayed where he was.

“I’ve been very happy with you,” Aurélien continued. “I’ve gotten used to the way you work, and I’ll miss you.”

He paused, and Jules, from his vantage point, could tell that he really was sad.

“I hope you’re as hardworking once you’re home,” Aurélien added. “And please come back to see me once in a while.”

He’d lowered his voice while uttering those last words. His hands were heavy on the young woman’s shoulders.

He leaned toward her and whispered, “Young people do silly things. … Listen, Fonteyne will always be here for you. You have my word. …”

She smiled at him. She liked him, in spite of everything, and he could tell that. He let her go, and she went down the stairs.

Behind her, Jules suddenly said, “I’m going with her.”

“Don’t be too long,” Aurélien said. “I need you!”

Laurène got into the car, angry with herself for being so moved. Jules couldn’t come up with anything to say to her on their way to Mazion and contented himself with holding her hand.

As soon as they arrived in the yard, Marie came out of the house to greet them. She was still a bit uncomfortable in Jules’s presence after her daughter’s confessions. She was stuck on the painful episode with Robert and felt sorry for Jules. They entered the kitchen, and Marie made some coffee as Laurène went up to say hello to her father. When Jules sat behind Marie, she got even busier and began to chatter so that there would be no silence between them.

“To think they wound up fighting like that,” she said. “Such old friends. It’s a shame. But, you know, to be stuck in bed during harvest this way. … You have to understand Antoine’s position. …”

She wouldn’t look at Jules while she poured a cup of coffee. Jules interrupted her.

“I like Antoine, and I know how difficult Aurélien can be. … Is Alex around?”

“Yes, with the laborers.”

He noticed her embarrassment and wanted to make her feel better.

“Marie,” he said, “I have something very serious to tell you.”

Seeing her become rigid, he added right away, “I’d like to ask you for your daughter’s hand. We’d get married next spring. …”

Marie finally met Jules’s gaze. She looked stunned.

“She told you about Bob, right?” he said. “Forget about it. It’s nothing. …”

Astonished by what she’d just heard, Marie clutched the back of a chair.

“She drove me crazy, you know. …” Jules continued. “When it comes to her, I’m not myself anymore. But we dealt with things, she and I, and I think we’re on the same page. … Only now, there are certain hurdles in the way. …”

Marie got ahold of herself. She gave Jules a huge smile and spared him the rest of the painful story by interrupting him, “Nothing in this world would make me happier than you and Laurène getting married. Does Aurélien know about this? No? So he’s going to be furious. … He was so angry when he left the house the other day!”

“They won’t remain mad at each other forever. You keep this news to yourself until they make up, okay?”

“You can count on me,” Marie said.

She was still smiling, her eyes bright. On a sudden impulse, she went over to Jules and hugged him.

“I’m so happy for you. I like you a lot, kiddo. …”

Jules was moved by her outburst of affection. He said, his voice low, “Until then, Marie, try to convince your daughter to be a little patient. …”

He didn’t have to elaborate, as Marie gave Jules a knowing look. She knew Laurène well enough to figure out Jules’s worries.

As Laurène came back downstairs, Jules got up, set on saying goodbye to Antoine before leaving. He wanted to get an idea of his state of mind and the rancor he had for Aurélien. Marie accompanied him to the bedroom but didn’t enter. Not only did she prefer leaving the men by themselves, she was in a hurry to meet up with Laurène.

Antoine gave Jules a lukewarm greeting.

“So,” he said, “you’re giving me back one of my daughters? You Laverzacs are so kind. I heard Alex arriving this morning, and I’m still stunned. He’s come over to take care of my land? Aurélien didn’t impose his veto? I thought that’s what he told me he was going to do. …”

Jules smiled and didn’t think he should respond directly to all of it.

“I didn’t want to leave your house without shaking your hand, Antoine,” he said.

“For now, you’re not as big a jerk as your father,” Antoine said, “but I don’t know if that’s going to last.”

Jules burst into his light laugh.

“Well, I’ve got to go. I have a lot of work to do. You’re ten times less sick than you think.”

He left Antoine, a smile on his face. His resemblance to Aurélien was too striking not to amuse Jules. He went back to the Mercedes, looking for Laurène. He finally spotted her, on the other side of the yard, standing still. He lit a cigarette, without moving and without trying to walk toward her. After a moment, she was the one who came over to him.

“You’re going back to Fonteyne,” she said, pouting. “When will you be back?”

Jules sighed and said, in a soft voice, “All I can do is invite you over for dinner once in a while. …”

“If you like. … But it’s going to be even worse after the harvest. The vinification will keep you even busier.”

She threw herself into his arms and cried.

“If I hadn’t been so stupid,” she said, “we wouldn’t be in this spot. Everything would’ve gone smoothly, without a hitch. … You have no idea how I regret the way I behaved, Jules.”

He softly caressed her hair and asked, “Will you have the patience to wait, Laurène?”

“Yes,” she said with a strong voice, in spite of her tears.

He slowly kissed Laurène and then stepped away from her. He glanced her way one more time and then climbed into the car. Reassured, he was now in a hurry to leave, to get back to Fonteyne and Aurélien, who was waiting for him.

She hated him for a second, but then he gave her a disarming smile before speeding away.

Aurélien had no difficulty convincing his notary. The Laverzacs couldn’t possibly do without a secretary at this time of year, and so Varin agreed to send Frédérique to Fonteyne with little fuss. Aurélien, just like Jules, always wound up getting what he wanted. Since his adopted son had suggested this young woman as a replacement for Laurène, Aurélien had no doubt that this was the right choice. Frédérique made an excellent impression on Aurélien as soon as he saw her. First and foremost because she was pretty, and also because she was eager to find out about the tasks she was going to be performing. Aurélien suggested that she stay at Fonteyne for the duration of the harvest, and she accepted with obvious glee. Living at the Laverzacs’ very much appealed to her, especially since she’d be on the same floor as Jules. The memory of their lovely night together was still fresh in her mind, and she’d waited in vain for him to give her a call. She was convinced that the fact that she’d gone to bed with him so quickly didn’t play in her favor, though she had been honest when she told Jules that it was the first time she’d ever gone to a hotel with a man. When Mr. Varin first talked to her about Aurélien’s request, she immediately imagined all kinds of scenarios. She tried not to appear too thrilled when she first got to Fonteyne and realized, after just a few hours, that she needed to be liked by the father in order to get close to the son.

Robert and Pauline, for their part, had little-by-little abandoned their Bordeaux hotel and limited themselves to long walks in the woods. During those September afternoons, Robert hated himself for coming back to Fonteyne to see Pauline again. She granted him only fleeting moments, ignored his feelings, and treated their rendezvous as little escapades that were only just for laughs. She took advantage of a situation that served and flattered her, that she enjoyed, but she kept Robert at bay and made sure that things between them didn’t become serious.

The official proclamation of the date for the beginning of the harvest was finally made. Traditionally, an opening banquet was organized each year before harvesting began. Aurélien suggested that Laurène be added to the guest list. Jules advised him against doing so, arguing that they couldn’t invite the daughter without the father, that it should be either the entire family or no one. Aurélien was displeased but didn’t insist. He would miss Laurène’s presence, but he wasn’t ready to make amends with Antoine. Not yet.

Alexandre divided his time between Mazion and Fonteyne, trying to be as discreet as possible in his comings and goings so as not to upset Aurélien. Dominique permanently displayed her anger, but didn’t leave Fonteyne, held there by her overwhelming workload. She openly disapproved of Aurélien. Day after day she had to put up with his moods, and she thought his fit of anger at Mazion had been downright excessive. But she kept her mouth shut, for fear that he would prevent Alex from working over there.

The day before the banquet, the atmosphere in the house had become electric. Robert wanted to accompany Jules in the vineyards, wistful in spite of himself at the thought of leaving Fonteyne two days later. A radiant sun made the grapes shine, and Jules was in an ebullient mood. As always, Robert had a hard time keeping up with him, and they wound up sitting on a low wall to smoke. Prudently, Robert asked how Laurène was doing and what Jules thought he was going to do in the future. When he learned that his brother, with a quiet self-confidence, had decided to marry Laurène next spring, he was stunned.

“I’m a bit more discreet than you are,” Jules told him with a grin. “Right now, though, the timing of the news is anything but ideal.”

“You think you can make Aurélien and Antoine bury the hatchet?”

“Of course! They’re going to be bored this winter, so it’ll be easy. …”

Robert said he didn’t understand why Jules had let Laurène leave for Mazion.

“She must be dying to be here with you. What’s this … purgatory you’re imposing on her?”

Jules glared at Robert and said, “If you weren’t my brother, I’d tell you to go to hell.”

He said that without animosity, as a simple observation.

“You sent her to the sidelines to see if you can be without her?” Robert continued, ruthlessly. “Or else you’re like Dad; as soon as something is gained, you don’t bother with it anymore. Is that it? Or maybe you just don’t want to do what is expected of you. …”

“So you’re a psychoanalyst now?” Jules asked. He was not smiling.

Robert offered him another cigarette and Jules took it. They kept quiet for a while, but Jules could tell his brother was still thinking about what they’d just discussed.

“Say what you have to say,” he finally blurted out.

“I’m thinking that if Laurène gets really annoyed with the situation, she might be very difficult to deal with, and you’re going to have your hands full. Am I wrong?”

Jules gave his brother an inscrutable look before saying, “I don’t know.”

Robert let out a long sigh. He looked at the impeccable rows of vines all around him.

“You have a funny way of loving, you know. …”

“Aurélien told me the same thing the other day. Not as gently as you just did, mind you. But it seems to me that it’s no business of his. Or yours.”

Robert straightened and said, “Especially coming from me. Is that what you think?”

“A little. … When I see you with Pauline …”

“Yes, it’s true. It’s a total disaster with her. But it’s not very gracious of you to talk to me about her.”

“You’re the one talking to me about her. And you want me to pretend that I don’t see the two of you? Even with my eyes closed, I run into you. You’ve been insanely reckless. And trying to keep Louis-Marie from seeing you outside a hotel isn’t my favorite thing to do in life. …”

Exasperated, Robert raised his eyes to the sky. To think about Pauline drove him crazy, and he didn’t have the courage to face reality straight on.

“What are you guys going to do in the future?” Jules asked him, softly. “Are you going to do the same foolish thing every time you’re at Fonteyne? And what’s going to happen when one of you gets tired of the game you’re playing? You’re going to go on vacation at different times? If Aurélien finds out about all this, he’s never going to forgive you. You’re going to wind up with the entire family against you. … I don’t want that. I missed you for those six years, you know. …”

Jules could tell that his brother was troubled. He saw Robert’s distress as something unpleasant and futile. But he didn’t want him to stay away for years again.

He added, in a low voice, “Since she doesn’t love you, why don’t you—”

“That’s not true! She prefers Louis-Marie, I know, but the two of us …”

“There’s no two of you. It doesn’t exist. It’s nothing.”

Robert found no reply. He lowered his head, not wanting to meet his brother’s gaze.

“I love you, Bob,” Jules whispered before leaving the low wall.

He knew that Robert wouldn’t follow him. Without Laurène and without Pauline, Jules could’ve had a strong relationship with his brother. But women stood between them, and there was nothing they could do about that. They would probably have to wait until they were old to find each other again.

Pauline watched Louis-Marie as he dressed. She thought it’d be wise to stay with him during naptime, and they wound up making love, just as she’d imagined they would. She didn’t want him to be suspicious at all. That her vacation would soon be over didn’t make Pauline sad, as she knew that Robert also lived in Paris. Amoral and well organized, she felt no guilt.

She thought that soon she’d have to pack their things and that Esther would be a pain in the neck the first few days without her cousins.

She stretched and said, “I really like this place.”

Louis-Marie nodded with a smile. He also liked it, but he didn’t feel like staying here.

“What are you guys going to do after your father is gone?”

Taken aback by the question, Louis-Marie didn’t know how to answer at first.

“Well …” he finally said, “nothing. Jules and Alexandre are here to take care of things.”

“You’re never going to sell Fonteyne?”

“Sell? Are you kidding? If we raise our children right, Fonteyne will still belong to the family in a hundred years. It’s a huge enterprise, and it’s a great asset for us all.”

Pauline made a skeptical face.

“All of you might not always agree about that.”

Louis-Marie, truly amused, began to laugh.

“I’m sure my father planned for it all. Four sons and their wives getting involved—I’m sure he took care of everything.”

“And you’re not worried about that? Same with Robert?”

Louis-Marie didn’t know what Pauline was getting at.

“However Aurélien decided to preserve Fonteyne will be accepted.”

“By everyone? Without exception?”

Louis-Marie’s expression was new to Pauline.

“I’m certain of it,” he said, slowly. “You see, Pauline, when I say that I don’t care about Fonteyne, it’s only partly true. I don’t want to know how it works, I want no part in running it. I’m just not interested. … But if one day, for some reason, there was no one to take care of the estate, I think that I’d be capable of leaving Paris behind to take charge. I wouldn’t be thrilled about it, but I’d do it.” He laughed and added, “If Dad heard that, it’d be music to his ears.”

“He gave you the bug, didn’t he? All of you.”

“No, only respect for the place. That’s enough.”

Seeing Pauline’s incredulous expression, Louis-Marie continued, “I’m not sure how I can explain it to you. … Fonteyne will always be in my life. In all of our lives. We can forget about it, Robert and me, because we know that things are running smoothly here. But if Fonteyne came crashing down because of us, I’d feel buried under its rubble for the rest of my life. It’d be like … like losing my own identity.”

Moved by Louis-Marie’s words, Pauline smiled.

“I never would’ve thought that you cared so much for it. It’s only a nice little castle. …”

“No, it’s not. It’s an entire universe that I know inside out, eyes closed, down to the last piece of furniture. And because of it, I’m always going to be financially set. And so will you. No matter what I might’ve said, the wine that we produce here fills me with pride.”

Pauline went over to him and kissed him lightly on the lips.

“You’re as romantic as a teenager. Now, while you’re getting off your cloud, I’m going to Bordeaux. I want to find something to wear at tomorrow’s banquet.”

He looked at her longingly. Then he took out his checkbook from his jacket and handed it to her. She nonchalantly dropped it in her purse before leaving the bedroom.

After leaving Robert, Jules walked for a long time and found himself on the edge of some woods facing the vines. It was one of his favorite spots. He felt calm, cheerful even, but a million miles from what he thought he should be feeling. He couldn’t stop thinking about Laurène. What if Robert was right? What if, having finally reached his goal, he was now turning from his objectives? What if he’d felt passion for Laurène only as long as she was unattainable?

He rejected the logical conclusion of his reflections and turned his attention to the furrows in the vineyards in front of him. All he had to do was to gaze at the fields to straighten out his mind. He felt no angst, no melancholy when he dealt with his vineyards and the wine he was producing. He hoped that his passion for Fonteyne would protect him from everything in the future, as it had always had.

He’d wanted Laurène. And he’d gotten her. He sincerely thought that he would love her for the rest of his life, even if she played only a secondary role in it. He’d been so naïve to mistake desire for love. He was certain he was in love with her, though he wasn’t possessed with the urge to go over there to see her all the time.

Out of sight, out of mind, he thought. I have to invite her over for dinner. … Not tonight and, of course, not tomorrow. The day after that, then. …

He began walking again, his stride as energetic as usual. Once near the castle, he saw Aurélien talking with Frédérique on the terrace. He made a turn toward the cellar’s entrance and went down the stairs. The presence of a pretty woman pleased Aurélien, it went without saying. The impulse Jules had felt for her when they first met had died down. His situation with Laurène had shoved everything else to the side. But Frédérique was a beautiful woman, even more so than he’d remembered.

He verified the hygrometry level that the indicator showed in the third cellar. He walked along the bottle racks, sand and gravel crunching under his boots. He was feeling good, whole again since he’d stopped torturing himself over a woman.

After one last glance, he turned on his heels, satisfied with his inspection. To reconcile Aurélien and Antoine wouldn’t be too difficult; he was convinced of that. And his wedding with Laurène would once and for all solve all the problems having to do with Mazion. Antoine’s land would one day belong to the Laverzacs, not the other way around. Aurélien must’ve thought about this often. And in the end, Alex would have to be sent over there. His only shot at independence was in Mazion.

Jules shivered, as it was cold in the cellar. He absentmindedly took a look at some of the barrels, something he’d done a dozen times the past couple of days.

And it suddenly struck him that being married required giving up some of his freedom. Jules had always loved his freedom, ferociously so. Even with Aurélien and Fonteyne, he felt as though he was independent. Fonteyne didn’t keep him prisoner; every morning he chose to be there, because it was his passion.

The idea of having to change his life, if only in a small way, displeased him tremendously. But he knew it was time for him to get married. And Laurène was well worth changing some of his habits for—giving up going to nightclubs and having one-night stands. She could give him just what he was beginning to realize he wanted: children.

He came out of the cellar whistling and set out to find Lucas.

Pauline had finally found something she wanted. In an upscale boutique, she tried on a slew of outfits before falling for a draped chiffon dress she thought looked fabulous on her. The brand name justified the price, so she bought the dress with no misgivings at all. She loved spending money, and Louis-Marie never tried to stop her.

She was coming out of the hair salon when she ran into Laurène. Her exclamations of surprise and joy were clearly over the top. Then she dragged Laurène to a tearoom.

“It’s so sad not seeing you at Fonteyne anymore,” she said. “You have no idea.”

Without asking for Laurène’s preferences, Pauline ordered pastries for the two of them.

“Are things hopping in Mazion?” she asked.

“The harvest is following its course,” Laurène answered, flatly.

“I don’t have to tell you about the atmosphere at Fonteyne! You know more about that than I do. Your sister and Fernande are up to their eyeballs preparing tomorrow’s banquet, Aurélien is hiring laborers, and Jules is everywhere at once.”

Laurène was eating with little enthusiasm, and Pauline couldn’t resist asking, “Where do things stand with you and Jules?”

Laurène started to blush, and Pauline guessed the answer.

“You guys made up?” she said. “That’s amazing. Jules hasn’t said a thing to us about it. He’s so discreet.”

“With the rift between our fathers,” Laurène said without much conviction, “he thought this would be a bad time to talk about it.”

“It’s none of our business anyway.”

Pauline smiled. She thought that Laurène looked morose and wondered why that was.

“If he doesn’t find something more important to do between now and then,” Laurène said, “we’re going to get married in the spring.”

Pauline remained slack-jawed for a second, then slowly set her pastry down on the plate.

“Laurène! You say that in such a way … That’s fantastic news!”

“It will be. When Jules decides it’s time to announce it. But there’s going to be the harvest, then vinification, then his trip to England. Aurélien’s every whim and Fonteyne’s every requirement will come before us. …”

Laurène lowered her head, trying to hold back her tears. Pauline stared at her with curiosity. She reached for Laurène and lifted her chin.

“Really?” she asked. “Why do you put up with it?”

“Because I love him,” Laurène responded simply.

Both women looked at each other in silence for a moment.

“I love him,” Laurène finally muttered with bitterness, “and so I wait until he gives me the nod, when he feels like the time has come. And I’m going to have to be there, available, happy as a clam.”

Pauline nodded and put a measured amount of contempt into her reply.

“That’s great. … I could never do that. That macho stuff, what a bunch of crap! Hope you have a lot of fun!”

“I don’t have any choice,” Laurène protested.

Pauline picked up her pastry again and devoured it greedily, then she delicately wiped her fingers on a small paper napkin.

“Why wait for him to whistle for you? I know that you’re young, timid, and in love. But you’re making things too convenient for him. You’re starting down the wrong path.”

Laurène was watching her, and Pauline pretended to hesitate before explaining, a smile on her face, “Remember the picnic? It’s when you decided to stop being a good little girl that Jules reacted to you. Am I wrong?”

“No. …”

“And that doesn’t make you think? Maybe Jules doesn’t like women who fall into his arms? Maybe he prefers those who resist him? You went home to Daddy like a good girl, and all the while the Laverzacs are wooing their latest plaything, a certain Frédérique, hired the very same day you left.”

Laurène went pale.

“You’re very naïve,” Pauline said with a sigh. “You’re not going to keep him that way. … But I’m sorry to make you feel bad. …”

She was sincere. She took a few bills out of her purse.

“This is on me,” she said.

She didn’t care whether she was Laurène’s guardian angel or the devil on her shoulder. She was giving her advice based on what she would do in her place. She paid for the bill and leaned toward Laurène, who was still silent.

“Make things hard on him,” Pauline said, “or he’s going to crush you.”

The following evening, Aurélien was ready quite early. He still loved the pre-harvest banquet, much more than any other wine industry gatherings. The festive and traditional feast marked for him the beginning of his favorite period of the year.

Though he knew that Dominique and Fernande had already taken care of everything, he peeked into the main living room and then the dining room. And, indeed, the table was set up perfectly. The doors to the library were wide open, and Aurélien decided to sit inside for a moment. He could hear the happy ruckus coming from the kitchen, where Fonteyne’s staff had been invited to eat. Baskets of food and bottles of wine had been taken to the living quarters for the laborers.

Aurélien went over the guest list, handpicked according to the Médoc region’s own hierarchy of wine producers. Alexandre walked in as Aurélien was still trying to figure out the seating plan. He was bringing him the bottles they’d selected yesterday at the end of a long discussion. With ceremony they uncorked the bottles and set them on a pedestal table. Satisfied, Alex winked at his father. The Laverzacs were known for being great hosts, and they relished the role.

Pauline waltzed into the room, looking triumphant. She was irresistible in that chiffon dress of hers, and Aurélien greeted her cheerfully. His daughter-in-law amused him a great deal. For him, she was the incarnation of female frivolity. Louis-Marie and Robert followed her into the library. Then Jules showed up, pushing a very intimidated Lucas in front of him. Lucas still didn’t know whether he’d earned Aurélien’s forgiveness.

Maurice Caze, who couldn’t refuse the invitation but had found an excuse for his daughter not to attend the banquet, was one of the first guests to arrive. But in no time, the library filled with Aurélien’s friends, their bursts of laughter and loud voices. Antoine and Marie’s absence was noticed but chalked up to illness.

The three or four young women who accompanied their parents only had eyes for Jules. Smiling, attractive, he walked around with the self-confidence and charm of a thirty-year-old man perfectly happy to be alive. All the wine producers on hand assumed he would be Aurélien’s successor. Frédérique, a bit uncomfortable and not knowing exactly how to act among that sort of crowd, stayed on the sidelines and observed Jules. Aurélien did the same, amused by the effect his adopted son had on everyone.

Louis-Marie went over to Robert, who was sitting in a corner of the room, bored.

“The biggest evening of the year,” he said. “Remember?”

They raised their glasses and took the time to savor what they were drinking.

“It used to be lots of fun, way back when,” Robert said, playfully. “But then, if I remember correctly, the banquets were pretty tiresome. Now, all of this seems … surprising. I’d kind of forgotten about the importance of the harvest. But all this pomp is really pretty fun.”

“Their excitement is contagious,” Louis-Marie added. “I’m almost sad to leave tomorrow.”

“On the contrary, that’s the perfect time to go back to Paris. We’ll have the impression that we missed out on the best part, that we didn’t participate in Aurélien’s great work. …”

They shared a laugh, knowing that both couldn’t wait to get back to their regular lives. Jules, who was passing by them, replenished their glasses with a smile on his face before joining some of the guests.

“When I watch him,” Louis-Marie said with a meditative expression, “I sometimes wonder if I was right leaving Fonteyne fifteen years ago. He knows nothing else and he seems so fulfilled.”

“Are you nuts? You’re not Jules, and you’d have died of boredom. Same with me!”

“Oh, you! You were an academic beast, Mister Prodigy. Big-shot doctor …”

Louis-Marie laughed, but Robert’s mood shifted.

“That’s what you think. Exams weren’t always easy for me, you know. And I owe my career to a fluke, ultimately. My department head’s accident is what made me the guy in charge. It’s not like I had planned for that. I should still be second in command, nothing more, and with a salary that’s not as great. I haven’t taken an exam since med school. The rest was pretty much luck. …”

Robert downed his glass, and Louis-Marie exclaimed, “You’re drinking that like it’s Perrier. Stop it!”

Robert shrugged. Louis-Marie didn’t understand where his brother’s bitterness came from.

“Jules never had to yearn for anything. He never had to fight to get something he wanted. He was never frustrated by things. For him, everything is simple. He exists without questioning himself. He gets what he wants. He doesn’t need a lucky star.”

Louis-Marie shook his head. He agreed to an extent with what Robert was saying, but he thought he was acting uncharacteristically disillusioned. Trying to cheer up his brother, he said, “So then, you think that everything is fine and dandy?”

“Here at Fonteyne? Everything is perfect. Which is a good thing, of course.”

Pauline came over and stood between them, radiant, a bottle in hand.

“Would you like more wine, gentlemen?”

She filled their glasses without waiting for a response.

“What are you two scheming about?” she asked.

Robert turned away, annoyed by Pauline’s cheerful duplicity.

“We were assessing more than scheming,” he said.

He walked away to join a group of guests while Pauline followed him with her eyes.

“You’re beautiful,” Louis-Marie whispered in her ear. “Did you enjoy your vacation?”

“Yes.”

He felt like caressing his wife’s short and shiny hair but resisted the urge. As she was still watching Robert, he said, jokingly, “Are you going to miss your admirer?”

“Bob?”

“His eyes were stuck on you the entire time he was here.”

“Come on! It’s part of the seducer’s act, and he plays that role with all the women. Just think of what happened with Laurène. He should get married, or he’s going to turn into an old bachelor. I’m sure there’s a slew of nurses that would sell their souls to the devil to marry him. … And there we go … Just take a look behind you. …”

Louis-Marie saw Robert talking to Frédérique and handing her a cigarette. He burst out laughing. Pauline did as well, but in an artificial way. Dominique, very elegant for once, came over to them.

“Fernande outdid herself,” she said. “You’ll see.”

Pauline smiled at her and said, “Why do you say Fernande? You’re the one who made up the menu, who bought everything.”

“But I’m not the one doing the cooking.”

Dominique gently took Pauline by the shoulders and said, “I’m going to miss you guys. Not right away, because of the harvest, but in November. It’s going to be so dreary around here then, with Laurène not here anymore and Jules off to England.”

She was so used to living in a busy and loud household that she almost feared finding herself alone between her husband and her father-in-law.

“How come your sister didn’t come tonight?” Louis-Marie asked.

“Because she wasn’t invited,” Dominique said. “Same as our parents.”

A moment of heavy silence followed, and then Jules showed up.

“I think we’re ready to eat,” he said.

Dominique smiled and headed for the dining room.

Then, looking at his brother, Jules said, “Aurélien wants to talk to you. I’ll hang out with your wife.”

Louis-Marie winked and walked away. Jules smiled at Pauline and asked, “Why did you marry him?” His voice was soft, devoid of hostility.

Taken aback, Pauline shot him a look of annoyance and said, “Because I love him, why else? I don’t like that question at all. What are you alluding to?”

She kept glaring at him, refusing to be judged, certain that he wasn’t going to add anything.

“You’re not exactly a model of morality, Jules,” she said. “You’re not treating the people you love very well. Where’s the love of your life this evening?”

Jules wanted to say something but couldn’t come up with the right words. He crossed the library and joined Alex, who was talking about how the harvest was going in Mazion with a wine producer from Blaye. Jules absentmindedly listened to their conversation for a while. Pauline’s comment had caught him off guard. He wondered how Laurène was doing right now, back at her parents’ house. He had a sudden urge to see her, to take her in his arms. He waited until Alex was done talking to take him aside.

“Your wife is radiant tonight,” he said. “She should dress this way more often. Marie’s daughters are really beautiful.”

He took a deep breath and asked, “Did you see Laurène today? She’s not too bored over there? She wasn’t too disappointed not being able to come over tonight?”

He felt guilty and worried. Alexandre, far from being reassuring, wasn’t looking his brother in the eyes.

“Laurène …” he mumbled, “I would’ve preferred to wait until tomorrow to talk to you about her. …”

Dumbstruck, Jules waited for the rest, but all Alexandre did was tug at his tie.

“What the hell is going on, Alex? Talk to me!”

“When I left Mazion earlier, Laurène asked me to … drive her to the train station.”

Jules gave Alexandre a blank look.

“What train station?” he asked.

“Bordeaux, of course. …”

Since Aurélien wasn’t far from them, chatting with Maurice Caze, Alexandre guided Jules to a corner of the room.

“Marie will be able to tell you more about it. Laurène had to take a train for Paris. I dropped her off at six or so.”

“Paris? She left for Paris?”

Jules was trying to understand, in vain.

“But, Alex … why?”

“She didn’t tell me anything. She had two suitcases.”

Jules was still trying to wrap his mind around what he’d just learned.

“Call Marie,” Alexandre suggested.

Jules turned on his heels and left the library. Once in the hall, he hesitated. He felt trapped, not being able to leave the banquet. He went to Aurélien’s office, shut the door, and sat in front of the phone. When he found the courage to dial the Billots’ number, Marie picked up after the first ring.

“Good evening, Marie. It’s Jules. …”

He got the feeling that Marie had been waiting for his call. In a low voice, she said, “Hi, kiddo. …”

“You know why I’m calling?”

“Yes, but I would’ve preferred talking to you in person. …”

“I can’t right now. We’re about to start eating. Alex tells me that Laurène left?”

He heard Marie’s heavy sigh.

“Did she tell you anything?”

“Silly stuff mostly. … Something about the harvest and all that. …”

“What about the harvest?”

He’d spoken harshly in spite of himself.

Marie continued, using the same soft tone as before, “Young women have crazy notions sometimes. …Laurène has no patience. She said that you … pushed her aside. Until you were good and ready to take her back. She didn’t like that. I don’t know what she was expecting from you, but she felt like she’d been betrayed. Abandoned. Something like that. …”

Silence followed Marie’s words, as Jules tried to make sense of it all.

With difficulty, he asked, “How long is she going to be gone for? And what is she going to do in Paris?”

“I don’t know. I figure she doesn’t either. It was an impulse or something, and I certainly don’t approve of it. She said that … she’d look for a job once she got there.”

Though Marie tried to be as gentle as possible as she spoke, every one of her sentences was like a slap in the face for Jules.

“Do you know where I can reach her?”

“Yes, the hotel where she booked a room. She decided to do it at the last minute and was extremely agitated. … I couldn’t get her to change her mind.”

Jules jotted down the phone number Marie gave him. He underlined it twice in anger.

“You think that I’ll be able to marry your daughter one day?” he asked.

Marie could hear the distress in Jules’s voice.

“I know that she loves you,” she said, “and I know she’s wrong about your intentions. She thinks that you’re being very … macho. That’s what she said. But those words don’t mean anything. She was angry, and she acted like a child.”

Jules kept quiet for a long time.

“Marie?” he then said in a very subdued voice.

“Yes?”

“I could drive to Paris tonight after the meal. Should I do it?”

“No, Jules. … Don’t. She’s my daughter and I know that’s only the answer I’m supposed to give, but really, take care of Fonteyne. I know what the harvest means and how high the stakes are. Tomorrow morning, you’ll be the first one out of bed and everyone will be counting on your leadership. Especially your father! Nothing should take you away from that. You understand?”

Since Jules wasn’t saying anything, Marie insisted.

“Fonteyne must come first, Jules. Laurène will get over it. She understands all about your duties, even though she’s pretending she doesn’t right now. Don’t play her game. It’s nothing more than provocation on her part. Don’t lie to her. Don’t make her believe that she’s the most important thing in your life if she isn’t. It would be a fool’s errand that would do no one any good.”

Jules remained quiet. Marie’s words had a soothing effect on him, but the idea of Laurène’s sudden departure was unbearable.

“She’s driving me crazy, Marie. …”

“Crazy, but not stupid, Jules. Stay home tonight. You can go to her later on.”

Marie waited a few moments and then hung up. Jules heard the phone’s click, then the dial tone. He got up and lit a cigarette. Little by little, he became aware of the noises in the house all around him. He went over to the hallway, where the guests were filing into the dining room. Aurélien came up to him and slapped him on the shoulder.

“Where were you? Something wrong?”

“In a way. …” Jules muttered. “But nothing that has to do with Fonteyne.”

Aurélien looked his son right in the face.

“You’ve got problems?” he asked.

“Troubles … of the heart,” Jules said, trying to smile.

“The heart? You sure that’s the right word?”

Aurélien meant it as a joke, but Jules turned on him.

“Why are you always in my way?”

Aurélien was startled. He glanced around him. He and Jules were now alone in the hallway.

“In your way?” he said. “I’m always in your way?”

Jules tried to lead his father into the dining room, but Aurélien wouldn’t budge.

“Are you missing something, son?” he said. “Or is it someone? You have my blessing to do whatever you need to be happy. Including being with Laurène.”

Jules planted his eyes on his father’s.

“That’s right!” Aurélien said, cheerfully. “You thought you could keep it from me?”

“You always know about everything, don’t you?”

“No. You’re better than me at that game. I’m old. I’ve told you that before. Hurry up and fix things between Antoine and me. I miss him. As for Laurène, you can tell me about your plans after you get back from London. …”

With some apprehension, Jules asked, “Do you think she’ll be okay waiting for me until then?”

Aurélien gave him a huge smile.

“No one ever resists you, son,” he said.

He gave Jules a loving pat on the shoulder. He thought Jules had looked a bit distraught and thought he’d put his mind at ease. They went over to the dining room, where everybody was waiting for them. Aurélien walked around the table, showing each guest to his or her seat. It was his fortieth banquet at Fonteyne and the milestone had a symbolic meaning for him.

As he was guided to his chair, Maurice Caze turned to Aurélien and said, “Your son doesn’t look too happy. Is he worried about the harvest or did you do something to piss him off?”

Caze was the only one laughing. He turned to the person next to him and said, “Having a daughter would’ve done Aurélien some good. He’s a terribly strict father. You know what people were saying about his sons twenty years ago? Poor little Laverzacs!”

His laughter was cut short by Aurélien.

“Oh yeah? What do people say now?”

Caze’s face darkened. He was convinced that Aurélien had something to do with Jules’s standoffish attitude toward Camille. Moreover, Aurélien’s unbearable success with Fonteyne had always been a source of irritation for him.

Jules was standing at one end of the table, while his father occupied the other end. With the arrangement, Aurélien hoped to show to whom he intended to pass the torch. He’d done it intentionally, as a message to his other sons as well as everybody else. When the guests had been assigned their seats, Aurélien gestured toward Dominique so she would be first to sit down.

She’s efficient and she planned this evening very well, he thought as everyone else around the table was sitting down. Alex is lucky; she’s a model wife. In a few months, Jules will also be settled, and eventually I’ll own Antoine’s vineyards. … Actually, they’re the ones who’ll own them. Those “poor little Laverzacs,” like that moron Maurice said. It’s going to be Alex’s responsibility, since here he could never surpass Jules. Oh, Jules … I always knew that eventually he’d wind up with Laurène. … True, he had that odd look on his face earlier, when I talked to him in the hallway. He’s that afraid of me? Of course, I did everything I could to keep him away from her, for a while. … He must have thought that. … In any case, they were together the last night Laurène spent at Fonteyne. … Not surprising, the shameful way she provoked him during the picnic. She’s underestimating him. … He’s going to make her bend until he can hold her in the palm of his hand. … She’s so naïve!

Aurélien forced himself to emerge from his reverie and turned his attention to his guests. He took a discreet look around the table. People were chatting away.

I’m glad I made the cocktail hour last so long. … Everybody is in a good mood, and they’re hungry. …

Seated between Pauline and Frédérique, Robert was the only one with a morose expression. A few moments earlier, Pauline had whispered to him, with a mischievous smile, that it would be wise for them to leave things where they were going forward. Where was that? he’d asked himself. In the middle of their miserable adulterous affair? In their pitiful Bordeaux hotel? Robert brooded over the words, and there was nothing he could say. Sickened by his own weakness and his persistence in making the same mistake over and over again, he wondered why Pauline was the only woman who’d really held his interest in all those years. Sooner or later, he would have to accept defeat. He turned to Frédérique and began talking to her, but without conviction. He exchanged a few pleasantries with her, and then Pauline pulled on his sleeve.

“Want to know what’s on the menu?” she asked him.

“You interrupted me.”

“Well, it’s not like you were saying anything worthwhile. …”

She smiled at him, smugly, and he hated her. At that moment, Frédérique leaned against his shoulder so she could address Pauline.

“What is on the menu?” she asked.

“Foie gras and crawfish terrine, duck breast with raspberry sauce, calf’s sweetbread, hen legs with morel mushrooms … That and a plate of cheeses and black currant mousseline with cassis sauce on nougatine. Hopefully we’ll still be able to leave the table come two in the morning. …”

Frédérique leaned back in her chair and muttered, “Fantastic!”

Pauline glared at her.

“What did she do to you?” Robert asked, his voice low.

Pauline made sure that Frédérique wasn’t listening to them before saying, “She bugs me. If she’s here to replace Laurène, fine. But leaving that notary of hers to settle here at Fonteyne must’ve gone to her head. She’s crafty and looks to me like some bourgeois wannabe. And she’s way too pretty. Since she got here, I’ve had my eye on her. You know what she’s after? Aurélien’s trust, so she can wind up in Jules’s bed. With all that in place, if you hit on her, she’d never say no!”

Suddenly cheerful, Robert began to laugh.

“My God,” he said, “you’re jealous of anything in a dress!”

Sitting across the table, Alex gestured for them to keep it down. At the end of the table, Jules was making valiant efforts to have a pleasant conversation with the people near him. But all he could think about was Laurène’s precipitous departure. Since he was completely ignorant of the advice that Pauline had given her in Bordeaux, he couldn’t imagine what had motivated her to flee this way. Was it just some sort of whim, as Marie had suggested, or did she realize that she didn’t want to be tied down? She was only twenty, after all, and hadn’t done much living.

Normally, Jules would’ve gone to get her, no matter where, even if he had to physically drag her back to Fonteyne. If not for the beginning of the harvest tomorrow morning, he’d have already been on the road to Paris. He was humiliated to have learned, through Marie, about what he could only assume was a breakup. In a burst of lucidity, he realized that Laurène knew how to manipulate him. Leave without a word of explanation instead of being treated like some negligible object. Jules had wanted to force patience on her, and she’d countered with a disappearing act. So far she’d won: He was dying to see her and deeply regretted his decision.

Absentmindedly, he looked in Robert’s direction. He was leaning toward Pauline, listening to what she was saying.

“God, he gets on my nerves with that stupid obsession with Pauline! Yet it took nothing for him to get Laurène to sleep with him in the stable. …”

“To Fonteyne!” Aurélien exclaimed, his glass raised at the other end of the table.

Docile, the guests were about to toast Fonteyne. One by one they turned to Jules, as Aurélien seemed to wait for him to chime in.

“To Fonteyne,” he said simply, in a deep voice.

Throughout the long feast, people had to drink to the harvest, the new vintage, the Laverzac forefathers, basically anything that came to mind. They had no choice but to drink and stay up so that the evening could be considered a success. And after two or three hours of heavy sleep, to then get out of bed and pick the first bunch of grapes from the first vine. …

Jules tried to imagine Laurène in Paris, having fun, making friends. He hated the idea. Fernande presented him with a dish, and he said, “You outdid yourself tonight. Nobody has been hungry for a long time, and yet they still keep on eating.”

While Jules was serving himself, she whispered in his ear, “You know Colette? The one that works for the Billots?”

He nodded, not knowing what Fernande was getting at.

“Well, she just told me that Laurène left home. … And apparently she cried the entire time she was packing. …”

He put the flatware back on Fernande’s plate, thinking that news traveled fast. The woman sitting to his left touched his forearm and said, “You seem distracted this evening.”

He forced himself to look at her. It was the wife of a big-time wine merchant, about fifty. Jules had to control himself.

“You’re ravishing,” he said, without smiling.

Embarrassed and flattered at the same time, she battered her eyelids in a ridiculous way.

For the first time in his life, Jules found the traditional feast stupid, pretentious, and never-ending.

The meal lasted until two, just as Pauline had predicted. Jules drowned his anguish and boredom in wine, and so he felt less sad, to the point where he could think about the future without clenching his teeth. He was stuck at Fonteyne for many days and wouldn’t be able to get away, and he was slowly resigning himself to the idea.

People gathered in the library, which had been cleaned up by Fernande and Clothilde, for coffee. Before joining the guests there, Jules and his brothers headed to the main living room.

“Should we say goodbye now?” Jules asked. “I’m sure I won’t be seeing you tomorrow morning.”

“It was a nice summer,” Robert said, solemnly.

The others burst out laughing.

“Really? With twenty-seven days of rain?”

“Are we going to see you guys next year?” Alexandre asked.

“Yes,” Louis-Marie said. “Unless something comes up. But, you know, barring a natural disaster, it’s family first.”

Jules playfully pushed him.

“Don’t drive like madmen on the way back,” he said. “Especially you, Bob, with that race car of yours. And call Aurélien once in a while. He loves to hear from you.”

The recommendations were always the same, and Louis-Marie smiled.

Jules then took Robert aside.

“I wanted to ask you something,” he said. He hesitated before adding, “Well, Laurène is in Paris. Apparently she’d like to get a job there.”

Robert looked surprised but didn’t say anything.

“Since she doesn’t know anyone there, she might try to contact you or Louis-Marie …”

“And?” Robert asked, cautiously.

“Well … I’m going to bring her back here very soon, and so it wouldn’t be worth it for you guys to find her any kind of job. …”

Jules gave his brother an irresistible smile and left the living room. Instead of the library, he went to Aurélien’s office. Once again he sat behind his father’s desk. The evening was almost over, and for a moment, he could take a breath. A very short moment, unfortunately.

Not long enough to get that damn girl and bring her back here!

He sighed. No use even thinking about a quick trip, as he knew full well that he’d be in this very room a few hours later, listening to Aurélien’s instructions. And every day after that, until the last basketful of grapes was dropped into the winepress.

He wasn’t unhappy. Not yet. Fonteyne was buzzing around him. He could vaguely hear Fernande and Clothilde come and go, the voices and bursts of laughter coming from the library. He got up, opened the French doors, and took a deep breath of fresh air. Outside, Botty let go of a short bark at the sight of him. Everything was in place. Including all those grapes still clinging to the vines. Summer was over. No matter what Jules was feeling, nothing was to get in the way of the harvest.

The future will be what we make of it, as they say, Jules thought. As always. …

Laurène paid her bill and hesitated to get up. As the hours went by, the station’s bistro had turned quiet. When she first came in, early evening, there were so many people she’d almost turned back around. But she’d found a table, way at the back, and she’d sat down with her suitcases at her feet. She’d heard the calls for her soon-to-be-departing train, but she’d let it go without her. And she hadn’t tried to take another. She’d decided not to go to Paris after all. Too bad. Her moment of revolt had passed. Her anger had petered out, and she didn’t have the strength to leave Bordeaux. Pauline and her speeches could do nothing to change that.

Time had gone by and she’d just sat there, not knowing what to do next. She’d imagined Jules, a few miles away, presiding over the preharvest banquet with ease, with pleasure. She’d seen him—as clearly as if she’d been right next to him—smiling at women, complimenting Fernande, talking to Aurélien in his soft and calm voice, the one he reserved for his father. She knew Jules inside out.

Leaving the region, on just that night, was a mistake. Or so she’d ended up deciding. Being somewhere without Jules was not for her. She was going to wait for him. Of course she was, overcoming her embarrassment, swallowing her pride! Pauline used men as puppets, but Laurène didn’t have the strength to play that kind of game. Jules might erase her from his life. She’d given him only headaches so far. Going to Paris would be the end for the two of them. Jules wouldn’t have ever gone to Paris to get her, she’d been foolish to think even for a second that he might have. It was impossible because of the harvest. He just wouldn’t do it.

Finally she got to her feet and headed for the exit.

I’m going back to Mazion, she thought. This was just a silly escapade, to be forgotten. Mom will understand. …

She suddenly stopped walking, and a waiter bumped into her. Without apologizing, she remained still, staring into the distance, riddled with doubts…

What if he already knew? What if he talked to Mom or Alex, and he got angry and decided that—

“Excuse me, ma’am,” the waiter said. “We’re closing.”

He showed Laurène to the door. She wound up on the sidewalk and looked for a taxi. It was late and the last train had left the station. She shivered at the thought of having almost done something irreparable.

I’ve made so many mistakes with him! I must be completely insane! Oh, this is the last time I take risks, the last time I ever listen to Pauline. God, I hope he doesn’t know anything, that no one told him!

At first she’d imagined, with vengeful glee, the effect that the news of her departure would have on Jules. She’d imagined him desperate and remorseful, leaving Fonteyne in a hurry … What a fool!

Never! He never would’ve done that! I’m living in a daydream.

She finally spotted a taxi and hailed it. She had to offer the driver a small fortune for him to agree to take her to Fonteyne. She paid him while he put her suitcases in the trunk of the car. She was sick with worry and couldn’t wait to be there. It was late and she was tired, and she’d spent all those hours doubting, so she didn’t know what to think. What if Jules was fed up with her attitude, her whims? What if he got tired of her?

My God, waiting until the end of the harvest is nothing! I could wait for him for a thousand years if I had to! What possessed me? Next year, at that same banquet, I’ll be Mrs. Laverzac! Unless I keep on acting like a fool. And if Jules decides to forgive me for tonight. … But if he doesn’t know, what is he going to think when he sees me show up like this in the middle of the night? He’s going to be furious. He’s going to think that I’m stalking him!

She was torturing herself, mad with worry. The driver wasn’t going fast as he tried to find the way to Fonteyne, and Laurène felt like crying. She’d just taken a tissue out of her purse when the driver finally stopped in front of the opened gates.

“I’ll get out here,” she said in a strained voice.

She went up the driveway, staggering because of her suitcases. She was so familiar with the place that she could find her way without difficulty. She stopped by the Little House, listened for a second, then put her suitcases down under a window. She headed for the castle, the façade of which was still lit. A few cars remained parked at the bottom of the terrace, but the evening was obviously winding down.

She went around the castle, heading for the kitchen. She couldn’t contain her trembling and had to lean against the wall as soon as she turned the house’s corner. A happy Botty ran right into her legs, and she almost let out a scream. She slowly went up the exterior stairs leading to the kitchen and hesitated a long time in front of the door. She thought about what she would say to Fernande once she walked in, and opened the door. There was no one in the kitchen. The entire room was filled with dirty dishes, pots, and pans, and empty bottles.

Laurène looked around her. She shuddered at the thought of running into Aurélien, but of course, she wouldn’t find Jules if she stayed put. With all her might she tried to gather the courage to get going, but she couldn’t.

The two women who suddenly walked into the kitchen, arms filled with dirty plates, didn’t know Laurène. Hired to assist Fernande during the banquet, they gave the young woman an indifferent nod. Right outside the door, Jules’s voice rang out.

“Are you sure you have enough help? I promise I don’t mind giving you a hand and I’m not that tired.”

Fernande walked into the kitchen, laughing in spite of her fatigue.

“Stop that, Jules!” she said. “Go to the living room. If your father saw you …”

Jules was carrying a tray dangerously filled with cups. He carefully set it on the table. As he turned to leave the kitchen, he saw Laurène. She’d remained still, paralyzed by fear and shame, intimidated like a little girl. They looked at each other, to the sound of clanking plates and bowls around them. Fernande was first to react and gently pushed them out of the house.

“Come on,” she muttered. “Out of here. You’re in the way. …”

They wound up in the clear night. Laurène desperately waited for Jules to say something. He leaned against the wall. She could hear him breathe.

“I was wondering,” he finally blurted out, “if you’d like to visit England.”

He reached out to Laurène with clumsy tenderness. And it was as though she’d never left Fonteyne.