Free The Chevalier (Châteaux and Shadows) by Philippa Lodge Page A

goals in mind: to breed, raise, train, and sell horses.
    Horses, he loved. He could select the horses he liked best and turn them to his will. Within reason. The horses with strong personalities weren’t always interested in pleasing a mere human. Men were too powerful. Women too difficult.
    Manu walked softly back to the end of the hall and deliberately bumped into a little table, rattling the lantern on it, then strode up the hall, making a little extra noise. There was no point in letting Mademoiselle de Fouet know he had overheard her. He wasn’t sure if it was because it absolved him of guilt or because it made him feel guiltier for not paying attention. He had been trying to prove he was right about traveling fast, he supposed. He instead proved traveling fast was bad for her health.
    He stepped into the drawing room and bowed to the two ladies. Hélène’s face lit up with pleasure, and he felt a swelling of love for his sister-in-law. Since he had saved Ondine from kidnapping some ten years before, Hélène had been his champion within the family, second only to Aurore. Aurore should have doubted him after he had left her unprotected in the fight for the château-fort, but she never blamed him.
    Hélène lifted a hand to her thick eyeglasses and rebalanced them on her nose. “Oh! Have your trunks caught up to you, Manu? I don’t recognize your coat as one of Jean-Louis’.”
    Manu kissed her hand, then did the same to Mademoiselle de Fouet. “As a matter of fact, my carriage arrived at Papa’s townhouse this morning. The men brought my things over.” Alas, his horse, Vainqueur, was still in la Brosse, resting from his long journey. His father would bring him up to Versailles in a few days. He ached to see his favorite stallion, his baby.
    Hélène smiled sweetly at him. “It’s very handsome. Did you have it made in Poitiers?”
    He looked down at the wooden buttons on the front of his rather plain navy blue coat and honestly couldn’t remember. “I believe so. It’s more an everyday justaucorps.” He didn’t even look at Mademoiselle de Fouet, but he thought she was judging him. “I have some nicer ones for court, you know. Not silks and gold and all, but fancier than this one.” He had never really cared, but his mother had driven into his head from the youngest age that one must look one’s best at court. Oddly enough, his father and brothers agreed, though in a more subtle fashion. Hidden jewels , as Fourbier said.
    “Well, have Monsieur Fourbier look them over. We don’t go anywhere without Fourbier’s approval.” Hélène’s smile was teasing, though her statement was close to the truth.
    Mademoiselle de Fouet said, her voice sharp, “Are you ready to go to Versailles?”
    He scowled at her, and she looked away. He hadn’t seen her since he’d invaded her bedchamber, worried about her, two mornings before. He had made a point of inquiring about her health with the servants and Hélène.
    “The rain has stopped, Mademoiselle, and there is some sun. By tomorrow, the roads should be passable, if not exactly good.”
    “I am ready to go. I need to return to the baronesse.” She sighed. Was she reluctant, too?
    Manu sat next to Hélène. “To be honest, I am not eager to go. Versailles is perfect in spring and autumn, but stuffy and smelly in summer. I don’t know why the court is there at this time of year, unless there’s a new fountain?”
    “A new hedge, I believe. And the Swiss Guards are digging a pond to act as a reservoir and improve drainage.” Mademoiselle de Fouet raised her eyebrows.
    “The Guards are? Shouldn’t they be guarding something?” He smirked.
    Mademoiselle de Fouet chuckled. It was an intriguing, low sound which made him think of whispered endearments.
    His gut clenched with desire, but he kept his smirk steady. “I’m trying to imagine the Mousquetaires with shovels instead of swords.”
    Mademoiselle de Fouet smiled—genuinely smiled—and looked very