Chapter 40 – Mademoiselle Brioche

“Sasha! Mr. Robert has arrived. You go out and open the gate for him!”

Standing by the window and watching outside intently, Grandma Elodie spotted the unusually tall and handsome man approaching their house and called for her granddaughter. Sasha, who had been driven out after breaking a plate in the kitchen and was fidgeting about anxiously, sprang to her feet and ran out to the gate. There were wrinkled marks left on the hem of the skirt she had been nervously fingering while sitting in the parlor chair.

When she reached the gate, Sasha held her breath and waited for the guest invited to tonight’s dinner to knock. Thump thump thump. The sound of knocking on the gate sounded just like her own heartbeat, pounding so fast it felt ready to leap out.

Sasha took a deep breath, made some footstep sounds, and then opened the gate as if she had only just walked out from inside.

“Hello, Mr. Robert!”

“Hello, Sasha.”

Mr. Robert, standing there with his hands behind his back, smiled softly. Perhaps he had felt warm on the way over, for the man had taken off his jacket and draped it over one arm, wearing only a shirt and waistcoat. He was dressed with the formal courtesy one might expect not for dinner at a country house but for attending a banquet hosted by some distinguished figure. The narrow-sleeved, long dress shirt followed the latest fashion in Laurent, and his cuff buttons were the same peacock-blue as his eyes.

Sasha remembered the day he had first come to Manolie wearing a frock coat and silk hat. Dressed up like this, the man looked far more formal than usual. She could keenly understand why the other people in Manolie called Mr. Robert a gentleman from Laurent.

Morning glory vines climbed the wall of the three-story house with its gabled roof. A white butterfly sitting inside the blossoms fluttered round and round Mr. Robert as if welcoming the new guest. But if he seemed more tense than usual, was that merely her imagination?

Just then Mr. Vinoche, who had come out after her, poked his face out from behind Sasha’s back. Robert handed him the gift he had brought.

“Th-th-th-this is wine produced in the Boissigny region, isn’t it?”

“I brought it in return for being invited to dinner. In any case, it was wine given to me as a gift too, and there’s too much of it for me to drink alone.”

When Mr. Vinoche stood there with his mouth open, unable to hide how burdened he felt, Robert added,

“You may count it as payment for fixing the faucet last time.”

“Well, that, that is……. Even so, if you insist…….”

Mr. Vinoche could not bring himself to refuse Boissigny wine a second time and accepted it with a broad grin. That proud, historic wine said to have been supplied for generations only to wealthy nobles was far too attractive a gift to reject plainly.

Having received a gift he had not expected at all, Mr. Vinoche softened somewhat and guided today’s guest into the dining room. Sasha, too, a little relieved of her tension, shut the lemon-colored gate and followed them in with quick little steps.

On the dining table was already spread the lace tablecloth Grandma Elodie treasured. Since Enzo had left, the table where the five of them always sat together for meals now had an extra setting of cutlery and plate laid out for Mr. Robert.

The appetizer was biscuits served with Comté cheese and jambon. After that, Madame Vinoche brought out a cold anchovy salad followed by hot lobster soup, and for the main course she prepared beef jelly served cold and covered in gooseberry sauce.

Robert scooped up some of the jelly with his fork and put it in his mouth. He could see the Vinoche family seated at the table, holding their breath and waiting for his reaction. So this must be a dish they make only on special occasions in this house. Realizing that much easily enough, Robert asked Madame Vinoche for more and emptied his plate twice.

Though there was no caviar or foie gras, so beloved in Laurent society, the simple and excellent meal passed in a warm, cheerful atmosphere. The final dessert prepared was chocolate cream mixed with candied orange peel and cognac. Sasha had made the dessert, and no one knew how many times she had gone in and out of the kitchen since morning.

“How is it? Does the dessert suit your taste?”

Unable to endure waiting for Robert’s reaction, Sasha took advantage of the moment when the other family members were focused on Grandma Elodie and asked in a secretive whisper.

“It’s good.”

After confirming his reaction, Sasha was filled with a joy she could not hide, like a novice cook who had just received a single word of praise from a famously demanding critic. Robert, immediately guessing who the cook was from her transparent reaction, once again finished his plate clean.

The dessert Sasha had made with such devotion pleased the rest of the family as well. Grandma Elodie, who had emptied her dish early, called for her adorable granddaughter in order to ask for more of the chocolate cream from the kitchen.

“My Little Brioche. Would you bring me some more chocolate cream?”

At that moment, Mr. Robert’s voice, which had been in the middle of a conversation with Madame Vinoche, stopped short. Every eye at the table turned to Sasha. Mr. Robert was looking at her with a face trying to suppress laughter.

“Just a moment. There’s plenty, so I’ll bring it right away.”

Blushing scarlet, Sasha sprang from her chair. Grandma Elodie would sometimes call Sasha at home the way she had in childhood, ‘ Little Brioche’ or ‘my sweet Brioche.’ Because of that affectionate habit, she had forgotten today that there was a guest at dinner and called her granddaughter as usual.

‘I should have asked Grandma in advance not to call me that today.’

As she came out of the kitchen carrying a bowl of chocolate cream, Sasha regretted not having told her grandmothers beforehand. How she felt about Mr. Robert. And how important it had become for this man to see her as a mature woman.

She had been so preoccupied with preparing the perfect dessert that she had forgotten to make such a request beforehand. That was entirely more her fault than her grandmother’s, but still.

‘This is a disaster.’

Mr. Robert must think she was childish. He already saw her as much younger than she was. Wiping the verge-of-tears look from her face, Sasha hurried back to the dining room carrying the bowl. As she served more chocolate cream onto Grandma Elodie’s plate, another empty dish was held out beside it. Sasha looked up and saw the owner of the plate.

“Would you grant me the chance to have more dessert as well? Mademoiselle Brioche?”

The lips of the man wearing a teasing smile were trembling slightly, as if holding back laughter. Was it because of the dimple that sank into only one cheek that his face looked like that of a mischievous boy. Sasha, who had paused for a moment holding the spoon smeared with brown cream, served dessert onto his plate as well.

“It seems the meal is nearly over, so I should bring some water to cleanse the palate.”

Watching the scene, Grandma Rollo gave Sasha a chance to leave the dining room.

“I’ll help, Grandma.”

Without sitting back down, Sasha quickly followed Grandma Rollo, who was heading to the kitchen to prepare lemon water. There was no other reason. She was simply anxious that if she stayed here, the rest of the family would notice how terribly red her face had become. And if that happened, she feared this relationship might be ruined by being exposed in some foolish way before she had even had the chance to tell him her feelings directly.

* * *

Robert looked around the Vinoche family’s parlor. It was the first time he had entered this room as a guest invited into the house, and the feeling was a new one. On the parlor table lay a deck of playing cards and a gossip paper, and shortly afterward a plate neatly arranged with almond cookies and cream cheese was placed there too.

Of the people there, everyone except two drank coffee. Sasha went into the kitchen and made lemonade for herself and Grandma Rollo. When she returned carrying two glasses and a bottle of lemonade, Grandma Elodie was reading aloud in a booming voice an article printed on the front page of today’s issue of the gossip paper 『Pouet』.

“‘Shocking confession! A woman once linked in scandal to Duke Eugène is pregnant! Who in the world is the father of the child?’ Good heavens! Such a shamelessly direct headline.”

Hearing a familiar name, Robert casually scanned the paper. It was a typical yellow paper, pulling sensational headlines from nothing but provocative claims with no basis at all. On the front-page headline, his great-uncle’s name was splashed across it boldly, and beneath it a crude illustration was printed in huge size.

Fortunately, no actual photograph of Duke Eugène had been printed. Whether they had not dared openly print the face of the Queen’s husband, or whether it was simply the laziness of the reporter they had hired, he could not tell. The illustration of gentlemen merrily carrying on a drinking spree seemed intended, at any rate, to denounce the city’s increasingly dissolute atmosphere. It must be a gossip paper read mostly outside Laurent. Robert came to the conclusion neatly.

“These days even the royal family, who ought to be setting an example, never stop having scandals……. How can the atmosphere in the city be proper like this?”

Clicking her tongue regretfully, Grandma Elodie sought agreement from the only man there who lived in Laurent. As though hoping he would be a solid, upright young man unlike the dissolute gentlemen in the illustration. In answer to that expectation, Robert showed his agreement by inclining his chin.

“Young people these days probably aren’t all that interested in articles like that. Have you ever seen Enzo believing what’s printed in gossip papers?”

Mr. Vinoche cut in. Robert did not bother denying those words. Setting down the newspaper, Grandma Elodie picked up the playing cards lying on the table and suggested a game, and the subject at the table changed to cards. The people seated in a circle played hand after hand until their coffee cups ran dry.