Search Your Heart

By Jan Bullen

Angelique has an opportunity to marry a rich noble man, she sees a way of providing her father with much needed funds to save his vineyard. Against her father's wishes Angelique marries Jean Paul, who owns the property next to their own estate and who is rumored to be hideously scarred under the black mask he wears.

Unsure if she can live with the leather mask, Angelique is convinced that her husband's temper is as hideous as his looks. Unable to disobey King Louis of France, the new Duchess must be presented to the Court & its King.

Angelique & her new husband travel to court, where their lives become embroiled in the scandals & intrigue of Versailles & where Angelique attracts the attention of Monsieur the Kings brother.

Angelique no longer notices the mask her husband wears as they are dragged into a web of intrigue, kidnap & witchcraft.

Angelique and Jean Paul battle their demons & uncover a love that was always simmering just below the surface surprising them both in its intensity.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Jan Bullen
• Release date: Feb 17, 2016
• ISBN: 9780985296780

Book preview

Search Your Heart

Search Your Heart

Chapter One

The stairs in the old chateau where sweeping and majestic, opening at the top of the stair case onto the elegant landings lined with paintings of previous generations of de Sances.  The small slim figure sitting at the top of the stairs could not be seen from below, with her apricot satin skirts tucked daintily around her knees and ankles Angelique waited patiently for her brother to return with his news.

Well what does he want? She whispered urgently to the small boy as he crept silently up the stairs towards her and settled in beside her.

I could not hear very much, Pierre whispered back, but it seems that papa owes taxes.

Owes taxes? But how can that be?  Angelique’s brows puckered with dismay.

Shhhh ... here they come now.  Pierre strained his neck to get a better view and watch the visitor leave.

The door to the library opened and a tall imposing man dressed completely in black walked into the dimly lit hallway followed closely by the Comte de Sance.

The Comte watched the valet hand the stranger his hat and cloak, then as they walked towards the door his low voice floated up to the two young people sitting on the stairs.  How long do I have, Monsieur Renard?

I think I can give you two months, Monsieur le Comte, but no more.  The small smile that followed this comment showed the Comte that the man was sincere and not particularly relishing this task.

And there is no other way to save the chateau?

I am sorry Monsieur.  I have helped you all I can.

Yes, and I thank you Monsieur Renard.

Perhaps you can sell some land.  Monsieur Renard smiled at the Comte with kindly eyes.  He knew that the old man had worked very hard, but no matter how hard he worked if the harvest was not good the money would not be forthcoming.

No, there must be another way, I must leave something for my son.  I am an old man, I cannot start again, and with no wife…..  The Comte’s voice trailed off as his thoughts took over. 

The Comtesse had died a few years earlier of a terrible wasting desease,  it had been hard for both father and children to watch helplessly as their beloved wife and mother faded before their very eyes.

Brother and sister watched from the top of the stairs as the visitor left and their father walked dejectedly back into the sanctuary of his library.

What did that man mean, Angie?  Pierre whispered.  He was the only person that Angelique would allow to use a nickname for her. Pierre was a handsome seven year old boy with blonde unruly hair framing his almost angelic face, his large soft brown eyes were outlined by long dark lashes, and his mischievous smile was infectious.

I don’t know Pierre, but papa does look worried.  Come let us go and talk with him.

Slowly they both made their way down the dark stairs to the library.  The door stood slightly ajar and Angelique poked her head around the door.  Pierre gave her a gentle shove when she did not move further, but she just turned and put her finger to her lips to indicate silence.  A single tear glistened on her cheek as she stood quietly and watched her dear papa sob silently into his hands.

Pierre was becoming impatient in the hall and gave her arm a tug so she very quietly stepped back and closed the door.

Well?  Pierre demanded impatiently completely unaware of the scene that his sister had just witnessed.

Not now, Pierre, I think you should go to bed.  Angelique said wiping a tear from her cheek with her palm.

Why?  His chin rose defiantly.

It is just....well I think I should talk to papa alone.  She whispered, but the annoyed look on Pierre’s face told her he did not agree.

I want to talk to papa too.  Pierre’s small hands rested on his hips and his chin jutted out even further.

Well you can’t, so just go to bed.  Angelique snapped at him.  Her slim eyebrows rose slightly in surprise when Pierre actually turned around and thumped noisily up the stairs to his bedchamber. Angelique couldn’t resist a smile when she heard him mumbling under his breath as he went.

As soon as Angelique was sure that Pierre had actually gone to his room, she tentatively opened the library door again.  Her father was still sitting in his chair.  He leaned forward with his head in his hands and looked thoroughly dejected. 

Silently Angelique slipped into the room and walked over to her father’s chair.  Her small hand came out to touch his shoulder, slowly he raised his head and his pale tear stained face tore at Angelique’s heart.  Not since the death of her precious mother had she seen her papa look so very unhappy.

You should be in bed my child.  The Comte said in a broken voice as Angelique gently touched his hunched shoulder.

Can I help you papa?  Angelique sank down to her knees in front of his chair and picked up his hand.

No, Cherie, it is something I must do. He gazed down sadly at her small hands holding his old and withered ones.

Please papa, tell me what is troubling you so, I cannot bear to see you like this.  Angelique’s voice broke slightly with her own emotion.

My child, you should not concern yourself with these matters, you are too young for such worry.  The Comte tenderly cupped her cheek in his palm.

Papa, I am eighteen years old and I wish to share these problems with you, perhaps if you tell me what is troubling you, I can help in some way.  Her gentle plea brought a wavering smile to the Comte’s drawn features; he loved his daughter so very much.  He took a deep shuddering breath and looked into her sparkling violet eyes.

My child, the chateau and estates are heavily mortgaged; our taxes are due and as you know the wine and harvest was not good this year.  I am afraid ma petit that if I do not pay these debts very soon, our home and land will be taken from us.

Oh papa, no, where will we live?  The distress in Angelique’s eyes brought physical pain to her father; his heart lurched painfully in his chest.

I don’t know Cherie, I don’t know.  His frail voice was a mere whisper.

Oh, don’t worry papa, we will think of something...... won’t we? She asked hopefully.

Yes my child.  His wavering smile did not convince her, but she accepted his words and standing up she placed a gentle kiss on his cheek and slowly walked to her bedroom.

***

Angelique did not fall asleep until nearly dawn, but as soon as the first sunbeams came shimmering through the open window she woke immediately.  Her eyes stung through lack of sleep and her head ached, but she jumped out of bed and splashed her face with cold water to try to dispel the sleepy feeling then she dressed in a simple gown of lavender silk and went down the wide stairs.

Instead of going to breakfast she made her way out of the heavy front door and down the long tree lined drive towards the vineyards.  As she climbed the slight incline and then rounded the bend in the road, she was amazed at the total beauty of the estate, her father’s estate; she would never be able to think of it otherwise.

From where she stood, the hill dipped away to a wide sweeping valley, the neat lines of poles and twine showing clearly the t-shaped grape vines, now slowly coming alive after the long winter.  If only they could have more rain she thought, perhaps then the grapes would be fuller and not so bitter.

The grapes were far too small to make good wine, but with more rain perhaps they could salvage the crop and make more money to help pay the debts that where owed.  As Angelique made her way along the pathways between the vines, she met several of the workers who all waved and smiled at her, totally unaware that in a short time, they might be out of work and perhaps a home.

Angelique had walked to the far side of the vineyards, just beyond the orchards where they started to climb again out of the valley.  This was her favorite spot on all of the estate, from this vantage point she could see the orchards just below, the vineyards spanning almost a mile towards the magnificent chateau that was her home on the hill overlooking the estate.  Her heart swelled at the sight and at the same time tears swam in her bright eyes.  A rustle of leaves behind her made her turn and her tear bright eyes met those of her father.  He had also been studying the magnificent panorama before them.

Papa..  Angelique held out her hand to him.

Good morning Cherie, you are about early.  His eyes glinted at her in affection but his voice was very quiet and frail.

I could not sleep.  She said turning back towards the vineyards,  It is so beautiful here.

Yes.  His voice cracked slightly as he stood beside his beloved daughter and let his gaze roam over the estate.  It is.

Papa?

Yes Cherie?

If there is anything I can do to help you, you know I will.  Angelique’s eyes shone with her sincerity and the Comte was again reminded of how much his daughter resembled her mother, both in looks and spirit.

I know my child, I know...... I am sure I will think of something.  I hope he thought but left the last unsaid as he leaned over and kissed her cheek before turning around and walking back towards the chateau.  Slowly Angelique followed her father back to the house.

By the time they both arrived in the breakfast room Pierre was already seated and tucking into a huge helping of eggs.  He looked up when his papa and sister entered the room, but apart from a grunted good morning, he continued eating.  Angelique smiled at her father as he helped her to a chair then seated himself opposite her.

What are you going to do today Pierre?  The Comte asked as he helped himself to bread and cheese.

I don’t know papa, I thought maybe I would go to the river and catch some fish.  Will you come Angie?  Pierre said, with the delightful innocence of a child.

Perhaps.  I might meet you at the river later.  Angelique smiled at her brother.

Good, see you later then.  With that he was off at a run.  Leaving his breakfast, the table and indeed the dining room in one fluid movement.

What will become of him?  The Comte whispered as he watched the exuberance of his son.

Hush, papa .... we have time to think of something.

Yes, Cherie, we do.  But he did not sound very convinced as he continued picking at his breakfast.

An hour later Angelique, still dressed in her lavender gown, retrived a wide brimmed straw hat to protect her from the warming sun.  She walked down through the vineyards, through the orchards, with the many trees heavy with promised blossom and on through the small copse to the river that ran through the estate, separating them from their nearest neighbor.

Look, look Angie, a huge trout, I shall give it to papa for his supper.  Pierre cried when he saw his sister strolling along the riverbank towards him.

That’s wonderful Pierre.  Angelique laughed as she investigated a fallen tree trunk to see if it would be clean enough for her to sit on.  Having satisfied herself that it was clean, she sat down and watched Pierre attach another worm to his small fishing line and expertly throw the line into the sparkling water.

As Angelique sat and watched Pierre fish, she relaxed for the first time since the night before, as Pierre chatted happily Angelique’s laughter lifted on the still air.  She had taken off her hat, and her hair shone like spun gold in the sunlight.  Feeling totally relaxed Angelique leaned back on the fallen trunk and propped herself up against the standing tree trunk, her skirts fell around her legs and ankles in soft folds that outlined the slender figure reclining on the trunk.

From the hidden vantagepoint across the river, a huge black horse stood cropping the lush grass as its rider sat motionless, his sparkling deep blue eyes narrowed as they studied the prone form of the young girl.  He had never seen anything so delicately beautiful, his breathing hitched in his chest as he watched the beautiful face turn towards the young boy at the river.

Although the river was wide, her tinkling laughter floated across the water and surrounded him like a powerful drug.  He was mesmerized as he watched the light breeze catch her honey gold hair and whip it around her face, her slender hand come up to push it back, watching her languid movements had an hypnotic effect on his senses.

He did not know how long he had sat and watched the beautiful vision, but he knew that he was powerless to move or turn away.  Never had he seen such beauty and innocent charm.  Completely unaware of his perusal, he knew that she was acting quite naturally, but it stirred his senses nonetheless, her sensual charm and beauty where intoxicating, her innocence evident.

In the warm sun Angelique watched Pierre play and frolic in the cool water, but not having had much sleep she became very drowsy as she relaxed beneath the huge tree.  Very soon she had dozed off to a light slumber.

Across the water the stranger continued to watch with avid interest as her eyelids drifted closed and the lush curves of her breast started an even rise and fall indicating the moment she fell in a restful slumber.

Pierre turned around to say something to his sister and saw that her eyes where closed.  Not being able to resist the temptation, he picked up a fat wriggling worm and crept over to where his sister was reclining.  With one hand over his mouth to stem the giggles, he held the worm out to lightly touch her nose. 

Swatting at the annoying insect touching her nose, Angelique moved her head and wrinkled her nose and then settled again.  Pierre had a hard time trying to control his giggles as he again dangled the worm over his sister’s nose, this time however, he had forgotten that his hands where wet and a great drop of cold water splashed on his sister’s cheek as he held the worm in position. 

Giving a squeal of alarm Angelique opened her eyes to stare at the fat wiggling worm.  Her eyes sparkled and rounded like saucers.  In one fluid movement she pushed the worm away and jumped up off the tree trunk.

Pierre could contain his mirth no longer he burst into delighted laughter as Angelique picked up her skirts and started chasing the young rogue along the riverbank.  Her laughter joined his in the game of chase.  She presented such a delightful picture, with her skirts hiked up to allow for more freedom in the chase that the watcher across the river found himself laughing with them as he watched their delightful game.  In no time Angelique caught her brother and they both collapsed on the grassy bank.  He rolled onto his back held his aching stomach as he still uncontrollably giggled with glee while Angelique collapsed down beside him in a froth of lavender and white petticoats, her delighted laughter joining her brothers.  After a short time they both gained control of themselves and after packing up his fishing tackle, Pierre and Angelique walked slowly back to the chateau.

It was only when they where completely out of sight that the rider turned his horse in the opposite direction.

Chapter Two

Jean Paul du Barry, Duc d’Avignon strode into the cavernous hall of his ancestral home, the footman was waiting to take his master’s hat and riding quirk and almost without thinking Jean Paul handed them over. 

His long strides took him straight to the library where he closed the door behind him without a word to anyone.  Taking a deep breath he leaned back against the door and closed his eyes, conjuring up the vision of the beautiful woman he had seen that morning.  Even in his mind she had the power to stir him deeply.  He pushed himself away from the door and walked over to the small table where he shakily poured himself a large brandy and fell into an over stuffed armchair.

Jean Paul had no brothers or sisters and had therefore become the Duc d’Avignon when his father had died five years earlier.  He had never married, although he had come quite close some seven years earlier.  His intended bride had been beautiful beyond words, but she knew how to use that beauty.

Margarite had taken a lover although she had been betrothed to Jean Paul,  when Jean Paul found out about this, quite by accident, he had challenged the Marquise d’Villiere to a duel. 

The Marquise had chosen rapiers, a weapon with which Jean Paul was extremely competent.  Jean Paul had killed the Marquise with no qualms at all, but he could still feel the excruciating pain as the Marquise’s blade had sliced through his cheek, leaving it bloodied and open to the bone.

The surgeon on hand had acted swiftly, he had stitched Jean Paul’s face back together, but when it had healed the scar was so horrific, giving the once exceedingly handsome face a gruesome, even fearsome appearance, it was then that Jean Paul had started wearing the mask.  He could not bear the horrified looks of anyone who saw him, especially the women.

The pain of the blade slicing through the side of his face and the subsequent stitching was nothing compared to the pain that sliced through him each time a beautiful woman turned away from him in horror and disgust.

Now leaning his head back in the chair he again pictured the young woman he had seen this morning.   His mouth twisted in a grimace when he imagined the look of utter horror that would cross her face when she glimpsed his features.  Would she ever get used to his horrible scarred face? Could he take the chance?

He had not felt this way since his betrayal by Margarite, now even that did not seem so important, his features hardened, he knew that he must have her.

Two weeks later the Duc d’Avignon was sitting at his vast breakfast table, alone as usual when the door opened and his good friend Payn Fitzwilliam walked in and seated himself opposite Jean Paul at the table.  Helping himself to a good portion of meat and bread and a large goblet of wine, Payn finally smiled at his friend, who had continued with his own breakfast.

What brings you here today my friend? Jean Paul raised a brow at the amount of food his friend had heaped on his plate.

Why, you’re summons brought me here?  Payn said a little hint of surprise in his voice, Had you forgotten?

Oh, yes actually I had.  Jean Paul continued eating, but said nothing more.  He had not forgotten that he had asked Payn to come to see him, his mind had never been far from the beauty across the river.

Oh, that’s better.  Payn said, putting his hand on his full stomach.  Now what can I do for you today Jean Paul?  He continued smiling at his long time friend.

Payn was one of the very few people who ever saw Jean Paul without his mask; he was one of the few people who did not turn away from the sight of Jean Paul’ s horribly scarred face

What do you know about my neighbor across the river?  Jean Paul said sitting back in his chair with his wineglass in his hand.

Oh, er.. not very much I am afraid.  I do know that the Comte de Sance has lived at his estates for many years, and that it has been handed down from father to son for the past several hundred years.  Very fine wines I believe, one of the best in the region, but I also believe the bad weather and such have taken their toll on his crop, much like many other vineyards I suppose.  Payn helped himself to more wine.  Why do you ask?

Does he have a wife? Jean Paul ignored Payn’s question and asked one of his own.

No, I believe she died some years back.

He has a daughter then?  Jean Paul’s eyebrow quirked comically over the scar.

Yes, I believe he does.  Can’t say I know much about her though.

Can you find out more about them for me?  Jean Paul asked in a low voice, his eyes dropping to the glass in his hand.

Only if you tell me why.  Payn’s eyes narrowed suspiciously at Jean Paul’s subdued tone.

It is of no import .... at present. Jean Paul said quietly.

So... tell me then. Payn went on unperturbed.

I ....  well...

Come on, what? Payn said quietly as he sat forward in his chair.

Jean Paul took a deep breath, then a sip of his drink before he looked at Payn.  A couple of weeks ago, I was riding by the river, when I saw my neighbor.  Well actually now I believe it may have been his daughter and son.  I would like to know more about her .. the family

Ah ...  Payn said with a wicked grin.

What does that mean?  Jean Paul snapped.

Nothing, nothing.  What do you wish to know?  Payn held up his hands, but still smiled.

Is she married or betrothed.  How old she is.  Jean Paul shrugged.

Ah ....   Payn smiled again, but held up his hands in surrender when he saw the murderous look on his friend’s face.  Still laughing he jumped up from the table,  Aurevoir, I will leave you in peace to go in search of intriguing information.  I shall return in day or two.   Jean Paul could still hear the laughter as Payn retrieved his horse and rode down the long tree lined drive.

Since Jean Paul’s accident he had not ventured into the local village or indeed seen to his own tenants.  The first few times he had ridden out, wearing the fearsome looking black mask, the village people had run into their huts in fear, the children scooped up and hidden.

Jean Paul had watched all of this with a feeling of terror in his heart.  If they could not accept him, then he would not force them.  Gradually over time, the villagers and tenants had become used to their lord and his mask.  He had managed his estates most efficiently, justice was meted out swiftly, but he was also lenient when needed.  He was never harsh with the villagers and the terror they had felt when they saw his black leather mask had diminished with time.  But the stories still circulated around the area.  And so it was that only a few trusted people knew the true Duc d’Avignon.

Chapter Three

But Monsieur le Comte, the Duc is making you a very generous offer.  Payn told the seething Comte.  Payn had been able to find out that the chateau and surrounding estate where deeply in debt and likely to be taken away from the Comte and his family very soon.  Armed with this information, Jean Paul had dispatched his friend Payn to negotiate a deal for the hand of the lovely daughter of the house.

No.  I will hear no more.  The Comte shouted, his voice cracking with anger.

Monsieur I do not think you have a choice.  Payn said his voice low, but severe.

Choice, what do you mean.  I will not sell my daughter .... to that .. that monster. I do have a choice.  The Comte stood up and straightened his back looking directly at the handsome young man who was the emissary of the Duc.  Payn had to admire the man’s courage, but he knew that the Comte had few choices.

Perhaps I should leave you to consider the matter.  May I remind you, the Duc is offering a remarkable sum for the hand of your daughter.  He obviously means her no harm.

Please go now, I will not consider selling my daughter, and that is final.  The Comte turned his back on the young man.

But Monsieur le Comte, you would not be selling your daughter, it could be considered a .. dowry.  Payn spoke quietly, but the Comte did not turn around or acknowledge that he had heard him.  Taking a deep breath Payn turned and left the library.  He would return in a few days for a further talk with the Comte.

As Payn was handed his hat by the footman at the door his attention was drawn by the soft rustling sound of delicate silk.  With his hand extended to retrieve his hat he turned his head towards the stairs and froze.  The vision floating down the stairs towards him was stunning.  The footman quite used to the effect his beautiful mistress created cleared his throat bringing Payn to his senses.  But Payn just waved his extended hand at the man and the footman turned and put the hat back on the table by the door then silently disappeared.

Welcome to our home, my lord.  Angelique said as she walked towards the still stunned man.

Thank you mademoiselle.  My name is Payn Fitzwilliam.  Payn had swept her an elegant bow.

I know who you are Monsieur Fitzwilliam, and why you are here.  May I speak with you privately.  Angelique smiled serenely at him.

But of course.  Payn nodded slightly and waited for Angelique to lead the way into a small sitting room.  The room was charming, with old but still elegant furniture, comfortable sofas and chairs with flowered patterned brocade fabric were set around the room so that the occupants could have some privacy or could join in a conversation.

The wide double doors were open to let in the slight cooling breeze, but the view through the doors was breathtaking.  The magnificent vineyards were laid out in rows as far as the eye could see.

I am at your service mademoiselle.  Payn again bowed slightly as Angelique sat down on one of the small sofas.  Watching this beautiful young woman Payn could see why his friend was so enamored of her.  She was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.

Monsieur Fitzwilliam, you came to offer for my hand did you not?  Angelique said in a small but confident voice.

Yes I did, on behalf of my friend, Duc d’Avignon, mademoiselle.  Payn stood in front of Angelique his hands behind his back, his piercing gray eyes taking in all of her.

Yes of course.  Can you tell me something of your friend?  Angelique looked down at her hands clasped in her lap.

As you wish.  Payn stared down at the bent head, a puzzled frown on his face.  Jean Paul du Barry, the Duc d’Avignon is your neighbor.  His estates border your father’s.  His family have lived in these parts for hundreds of years.  He is held in very high regard with the King.  Payn took a deep breath to continue but Angelique’s low whisper stopped him.

.....and feared by all who come in contact with him.  Her head came up and her violet eyes connecting with Payn’s.  Payn drew in his breath at the fragile beauty of this young woman, he could see she was fighting something deep inside.

’tis rumor, nothing more.  Payn’s voice was low, but his eyes did not leave her face.

He wears a .... mask?  At Payn’s nod she continued, to hide what?  Angelique’s voice was a breathless whisper.  She could see the frown cross Payn’s handsome face.  To hide what, my lord?  She questioned again at his silence.

My apologies mademoiselle but I .... think that is something the Duc should answer.  With a great deal of effort he pulled his eyes from her intent gaze and turned to stare out of the window.

All I can say is that you will not be harmed.  I give you my word.

May I meet with him?

Payn looked back down at the beautiful upturned face and caught his breath at the sight of the shimmering violet eyes looking back at him,  No.  That will not be possible.

Why does he want to marry me? The pleading in her voice was evident.

I cannot answer that mademoiselle.  He knows your father is in much debt and has authorized me to offer a great deal of money for your hand.

I know.  I heard you and papa talking.

Then you also heard your father refuse the offer?

Yes.  However.  The minutes seemed to stretch before she finished the sentence.  To her it felt like a death sentence, taking a deep shuddering breath and getting to her feet she stood looking up at the handsome Payn Fitzwilliam she whispered, I accept.

Without warning or quite realizing he was doing it his hand came up to cup her cheek in a gentle caress.  Angelique blinked once and her eyes misted over, she turned away from his gentle touch and walked to the open doors. 

Payn walked up behind her and turning her around he gently wiped away the tear that was silently gliding over her soft porcelain cheeks.  What of your father?  He questioned with a frown creasing his brow.  He had only just met this young woman yet he felt a certain infinity with her.  He admired her courage for he knew that it had taken a great deal of courage to accept the Duc’s offer.

I will talk to papa, he will sign the papers.  Angelique’s voice was flat as she spoke, the spark had gone out of her eyes.

Then I will return in a few days Cherie.  Gently Payn raised her hand to his lips before turning and striding from the sitting room.  For some inexplicable reason Payn felt a great sadness wash over him as he retrieved his horse from the stables and slowly rode down the long drive and through the extensive vineyards.

***

No.  I will hear no more about it.  Angelique stood in the library later that day, she had been trying to talk to her father for some time but he would not see reason.

But papa, you will be able to save the estates, and I must marry some time, I must marry someone.  Angelique’s voice quivered.

No, he will not have my daughter, the man is said to be a monster.  The very devil.  Hear me my child, he is evil and he will not have you.  The Comte came to stand before Angelique, her eyes where wide at his outburst.

Papa these are only rumors, stories put about by the villagers.  He cannot be that bad.  Her voice was a mere whisper but her heart hammered in her chest.

Angelique, he is that bad and worse.  My answer is no.  The Comte started for the door, thinking that he had had the final word, but when he heard Angelique’s sob, he turned a puzzled face back towards his daughter.

Papa, I have already accepted the offer.  Not quite believing his ears, the Comte slowly walked back to Angelique.

What did you say?  He whispered in disbelief.

I spoke to the Duc’s man before he left .... and I accepted the Duc’s offer of marriage.

My child, what have you done?  The Comte sank down into one of the large leather chairs, his head in his hands, all the strength had left him.  He had never been so devastated, even when his dear wife had died. 

Angelique could not bear to see her father in such distress.  She went over to him and sank down on the floor in front of his chair, taking his hands from his face she snuggled closer into his embrace.

Papa, it will be alright.  Please believe me.  When she realized that her father was weeping silently on her shoulder the pain was almost too much to bear.  Father and daughter sat in each other’s tender embrace for a long time, trying desperately to console one another.

Chapter Four

News of the betrothal soon filled the chateau and surrounding estates, and while Angelique received many congratulations, she could see no happiness in the people’s eyes just a great sadness, and sometimes pity.  The Comte, however, seemed to have accepted the marriage.

He was clearly not happy with the choice of husband for his precious daughter, but Angelique tried to quell his fears each time they spoke.  She had given him her solemn promise that should the Duc prove to be as bad as the rumors proclaimed, then she would return to the chateau immediately.  Deep down, both knew that this would be almost impossible.  Once she was married, she would be in her husband’s care.

Payn returned to the chateau three days later.  He had the betrothal contracts with him and once they where signed he presented the Comte with a draft from the Duc’s bank in Paris, the amount was far greater than had been discussed previously, but neither man made comment of this fact.

Two days after that Payn returned again to the chateau, this time he was accompanied by two wagons.  With a great flourish, he presented a flushed and excited Angelique with her bridal gifts.

The servants stood open mouthed in astonishment as the Duc’s liveried servants carried in trunk after trunk of gifts.  Never in her wildest dreams had Angelique ever seen such gifts.  As the trunks where opened to reveal the most exquisite gowns and jewels even the maids could not hold back their squeals of delight.  Another trunk contained the finest and flimsiest sleeping gowns Angelique had ever seen.

Slightly embarrassed that her new husband should think of such things, she slammed the trunk shut and tentatively opened another.  This one revealed a magnificent white wedding dress, carefully wrapped in soft linen sprinkled with lavender for protection.  Angelique sank down on her knees and very carefully pulled the gown from its wrappings.  She was breathless with delight, her eyes sought the soft gray one’s of Payn and they smiled at each other, although Payn’s smile hid a whole wealth of feelings.

It was the Duc’s mother’s wedding gown.  If it is to your liking, the Duc would be honored if you would wear it at your own wedding.  Payn said still smiling at Angelique’s flushed face.

Please tell the Duc that I would be honored to wear it, and thank him for these gifts. Angelique had sobered slightly as her thoughts cleared, and she realized what all this meant.  She was now formally betrothed to Jean Paul du Barry, Duc d’Avignon.

A complete stranger.

A disfigured monster.

Her husband.

The wedding was to take place one week from the day the betrothal was signed.  The first ceremony would be at the chateau, with Payn standing as proxy for the Duc.  Angelique was then to be escorted by Payn to the Duc’s residence and her new home.

As the day drew closer, Angelique became quieter.  Her father had traveled to Paris to discharge the debts on the chateau, and although this had been a great relief to him he still could not bring himself to accept his daughter’s wedding.  When Angelique tried to talk to him, he usually avoided her or refused to answer her questions.  Angelique was very upset by his actions, but at the same time she could not help but feel relieved that at least her beloved home was saved.

Her brother and father would not be homeless.  She did not know the amount the Duc had paid her father, but Payn had told her that it was more than enough to pay off all the debts and mortgages on the chateau.  This would still leave her father with enough money for many years until the vineyards started to produce good yields once again.

The day of the wedding dawned bright and sunny.  As Angelique lay abed, gazing out of the slightly open window, she was completely lost in thought and unaware that several maids bustled about the bedroom filling a huge tub with warm fragrant water.  The beautiful wedding gown had been hung from a large hook in the ceiling so that all creases could drop out. 

When the maids left the room to fetch more water Angelique became aware of a gentle rustling sound.  As her gaze came away from the window she caught sight of the magnificent wedding gown, the slight breeze was rustling the light silk of the skirts causing them the sway and shimmer in the shafts of sunlight filtering through the window.

This gown she would wear to the ceremony with the Duc, for today she had chosen another gown, her own mother's wedding gown.

The gown was a stunning pale cream silk.  The tight fitting bodice was decorated with tiny seed pearls.  Flounces of satin and lace were also decorated with seed pearls around the voluminous skirts.  With a deep sigh, Angelique flung the covers back and put her feet to the floor, stretching like a lazy cat she caught her nightgown and drew it over her head, then stepped quickly into the warm bath, sinking down into the scented water with a contented sigh.  She felt very nervous at what was to come, but she had refused to listen to the tales and gossip about her future husband, or rather she had put it all to the back of her mind.  If she where honest the tales the maids whispered did frighten her but she knew that it was too late to do anything about it now, and for her father’s sake she had to put on a brave face and appear reconciled to her marriage.

Chapter Five

Payn arrived at the chateau at the hour of eleven o’clock, the wedding was to take place at half past the hour.  He was shown into the large library where the Comte met him and handed him a glass of wine.

Do you ..I mean ..she will....  The Comte finished lamely, he was very nervous and Payn could see by the pallor of his skin that the Comte was not faring very well.

Monsieur le Comte, I assure you your daughter will be in good hands.  Payn said in a gentle voice.

The Comte looked up at the soft gray eyes of the handsome young man. How I wish it where you she were marrying.  He said in broken voice.

The Duc is a good man.  Payn said quietly, "We have been friends for many