Free The Chevalier (Châteaux and Shadows) by Philippa Lodge

me today? I’m to have a lesson, and you’ve danced at court. Haven’t you?”
    “Once or twice.” He had hardly been to court since he was thirteen and thought he might have danced a few years ago when he was about eighteen, but he was sure he’d made a hash of it.
    “Monsieur Brun, my uncle will dance with me today.”
    Manu backed away. “I…ah… It’s likely to be more of a lesson for me than for you, Ondine. You might learn how to pretend nothing is wrong when your partner turns the wrong way.”
    The girl’s eyes narrowed dangerously again. “Then you’ll have to do it all correctly, won’t you?” Ah, there was the temper of her birth mother.
    They danced for over an hour, until Manu felt he had mastered the steps if not the grace of the gavotte and the minuet. The dancing master criticized his walk and his bow, his hand movements and the tilt of his head. By the end, he was as angry as Ondine had been at the beginning of the lesson. She, on the other hand, relaxed into the music and earned nothing but accolades from Monsieur Brun and smiles from Hélène, her stepmother.
    The dancing master heaved a sigh and shook his head. “Send a note if you wish to schedule another lesson before you go to court, Monsieur. If you wish to dance at the palace without more practice…may Dieu have mercy on your soul.”
    Manu stifled a snort of laughter and looked at Ondine, whose eyes widened, believing the dancing master’s dire prediction for just a moment before she caught Manu’s eye and giggled.
    “Practice your curtsey, Mademoiselle,” the dancing master ordered before he and the accompanist swept from the room, bowing and murmuring goodbyes.
    Hélène sighed. “He will be back on Saturday to work with Marcel and Diane, if you’re still here, Manu, and wish to join them.”
    Manu looked at his sister-in-law in disbelief. She giggled, and he shook his head, grinning.
    “Well, thank you for the dance, Mademoiselle Ma Nièce. I think now I am going to go talk about horses with your brothers.”
    Manu bowed elegantly to Ondine, who gave her best curtsey yet, and left her and her maman sitting side by side, the girl chattering cheerfully.
    On the way up to the nursery to collect the boys, he wondered if being a doting uncle made him soft and ladylike. His brothers and Dominique were doting fathers, and none of them could be called ladylike, even in the finest court clothes with rows of lace. And they all knew how to dance and walk with a glide in high heels. He practiced the pointed-toe sweep of a walk followed by a dramatic pose. He grimaced. He didn’t mind dancing, since it meant touching hands with a pretty lady, but walking like he was in a ballet made his legs hurt.
    Mademoiselle de Fouet probably knew how to dance. What was her first name? Constance? Calypso? Ca-something. He stopped the first maid he came across and asked her for news of Mademoiselle de Fouet.
    ****
    “I really think it was the heat.”
    Ah. Mademoiselle de Fouet was finally out of her room. It had been two days, and the rain had finally eased to a dark drizzle. Manu paused in the hall just out of sight of the ladies in the drawing room.
    “I didn’t cool my face with water.”
    Hélène’s voice was a low murmur in reply, but Manu heard his name.
    “It’s certainly not Monsieur Emmanuel’s fault. I’m not used to be being pushed to travel so far, but I’ve traveled many times in the summer and know better than to let myself get so hot. I take care of myself. It’s my own fault.”
    Manu felt a rush of guilt anyway. She’d had all the symptoms of being overheated, but he hadn’t wanted to look too closely, preferring to travel as fast as possible as long as she wasn’t defying him at every turn. He didn’t like being responsible for other people, especially when they disagreed with him. Life was simpler on his farm, where he was in charge. Even in disagreements with Jacques and the other grooms, they all had the same