Armance

By Morgane Pinon

An abandoned manor.

Secrets concealed behind a mirror.

A tiny room that hasn’t been opened for nearly 150 years…

Sequestered behind a looking glass, a hidden closet contains the diary of Armance de Bellieu, a nineteenth-century countess, who poured her soul into her writing, never imagining for a moment that it might be read one day.

After 150 years of collecting dust, its yellowing pages are revealed to Florian Burnet, the new owner of this ancient estate. The young man will learn the hard way that the truth about this woman from the past has become lost among the twists and turns of history.

“Discover the coast of Brittany through this contemporary and historical romance.”

“A linguistic and culinary journey in one.”

• Language: English
• Publisher: BadPress
• Release date: Nov 9, 2023
• ISBN: 9781667465814

Book preview

Foreword

Although this book was inspired by actual places such as the Côtes-d’Armor and the town of Erquy, the story about the de Bellieu Manor and family stems entirely from my imagination. Therefore, any resemblance to real people or events is completely coincidental.

For Violet,

and our beautiful memories of summers in Brittany.

1.

Florian tapped his fingers nervously on the steering wheel. The traffic was dense, and he was eager to get out of the Parisian inferno. Despite having a long journey ahead of him, he actually felt relaxed. Ready for a fresh start, he was exhilarated at the thought of venturing into the unknown. He was leaving behind everything he had built over the last few years to embrace a new life. In his opinion, thirty-five was a good age for a radical change. He’d been trapped in a monotonous routine for far too long. Life had become very boring.

The blast of a horn suddenly shook him out of his reverie. A motorcyclist had deviated to avoid a motorist who was changing lanes without bothering to check whether it was occupied or not. Florian passed a hand through his curly locks of hair and sighed. This kind of attitude only confirmed that he’d made the right decision, but there was still something that made him hesitate. Everything had happened so quickly. The death of his Aunt Marie, although a painful ordeal, had brought about an unexpected change in the life of the 35-year-old. An only child, he never imagined he would become the sole heir of this woman who’d suffered from cancer during her final months. Marie hadn’t spoken to her sister Agatha for years, but luckily this animosity hadn’t prevented Florian from keeping in touch. There was no particular reason for doing so, yet he’d known nothing about her circumstances. He’d simply admired the middle-aged woman’s rebellious spirit, and Marie had readily admitted that she recognized herself in him. They’d had an impulsive temperament in common. Aunt Marie had never had any children, so Florian had become a surrogate son for her. Nevertheless, the young man had never imagined for a second that such a relationship would lead to his inheriting more than 1.2 million euros.

He recalled sitting in front of the notary, his eyes wide in shock, as his aunt’s final wishes had been read out loud to him. She had wisely pointed out in her will that with so much money it would be quite possible for him to invest in real estate. Despite the situation, Florian couldn’t prevent a grin from forming on his lips. It was clear proof that Marie’s personality was still evident although she’d now left the world of the living. He recalled sitting on his aunt’s lap as a child as she read books to him. She would recite adventures about the past as if living them with him. She’d been a history buff, and the Victorian era was by far her favorite: a time when elegance and good manners were the order of the day.

Florian had then looked for older properties available for purchase. He’d finally been given the opportunity to realize a dream he’d put aside for many years, even though he’d often spoken about it to Marie: to become the owner of an old manor. His wish as a child would have made him a rich and powerful prince, but now as an adult, his longing had been modified to a large house where he could host visitors in various guest rooms. He could then highlight his culinary skills and offer his guests an authentic journey back in time.

The most impressive lesson from this adventure had been his discovery that a manor in Brittany would cost him less than a three-room apartment in Paris. Even though he was acquiring a home that required expensive repairs, Florian was convinced he was getting a good deal. He’d been able to sell his small apartment in the Parisian suburbs quite easily, and for half a million euros had become the owner of the de Bellieu Manor. After calculating the costs he expected to have to pay for the restoration work, as well as the smaller fees for the notary and the real estate agency, he still had a more-than-honorable sum for any unforeseen emergencies. The most difficult thing he’d had to accept was the inheritance tax collected by the State. Since Florian wasn’t a direct heir, 45% of Marie’s fortune had been irreparably claimed by the French Government. This meant he had only slightly over six hundred thousand euros left to invest in the building. A hard blow indeed. The young man wondered if his aunt had been aware of this detail. On reflection, he could very well imagine she’d have preferred it this way so as to avoid leaving even a cent to her sister.

That morning, Florian was driving westward toward a remote region he wasn’t all that familiar with. Years ago, he’d spent a few vacation days in these wild lands with his parents. Even though he’d been young then, he could still remember the emerald coast where the sea had seemed incapable of maintaining a well-defined color for more than a few hours at a time. Florian wondered whether this vision of the past had become distorted and confused with various dreams he’d had about the location over the years. However, when he had traveled to the region to take his first look at the manor, he’d spent some time exploring the surrounding area, and everything had seemed as real as in his wildest dreams. What’s more, despite the fact that the property was now in a sad state of repair, Florian knew his future was linked to this ancestral home.

Once he had managed to escape from the vehicular soup, the young man let his car burn up the miles as he relaxed slightly. Signs of fall were just beginning to appear, and rain accompanied him for most of his journey. He could feel some stiffness in his right hand, something he’d recently begun to notice in wet weather. He pursed his lips. Like all people from places outside Brittany, he wondered if there would be worse weather ahead. Nevertheless, on reaching the outskirts of France’s westernmost region after several hours of driving, he was pleasantly surprised to discover a magnificent sun. It was as if the solar star wanted to encourage him in his decision to leave everything behind by welcoming him with warmth.

Just as his cell phone was informing him that his journey was ending, Florian was able to recognize the coastal town that would soon become his place of residence. He waited until he was stopped at a red light to turn off the energy-consuming app on his multifunction device. He had left Paris early in the day and it was now the beginning of the afternoon. He felt his stomach contract painfully. He had traveled the entire route without a break and hadn’t eaten anything since dawn. He enjoyed living impulsively, letting himself be guided by events. It gave him a certain freedom.

The young man turned his vehicle toward the port and quickly found a parking space. He got out of his car and closed the door gently. He was surprised he’d managed to fit all his belongings inside. Florian admired the spectacular landscape in front of him. The sea appeared calm, but he could still distinguish various eddies and trails of foam being propelled by a gentle breeze. The white clouds galloped through the sky, giving the impression that the sun’s rays were moving as quickly as a curtain being drawn across a window. A few reckless youths were taking advantage of the conditions to skim briskly over the waves on their windsurfers. Although they were wearing full wetsuits, Florian couldn’t help but shiver at the realization that the water would be icy in this season.

Once again, his stomach reminded him he should eat. The young man dragged his eyes away from the view and began walking along the foreshore toward the first bar-restaurant he could see. Just as he was about to open the glass door, he noticed his reflection. A few strands of his curly brown hair had been blown by the wind, thereby giving him a ruffled, yet charming, air. His gray eyes reflected an almost haughty assurance, adding a mysterious aspect to his facial expression, while the contours of his prominent chin were marked by a well-maintained but scruffy beard a few days old.

To shelter from the wind, Florian entered the establishment and ran a hand through his hair by reflex before sitting down at one of the empty tables. A waitress arrived quickly to take his order.

Are you still serving lunch? he asked with a disarming smile of apology.

The young woman glanced at her watch before returning her attention to her customer. With an amused pout, she replied in a confidential tone, "You’re in luck. The cook won’t refuse if I ask him. I’ll grab a menu for you."

Thank you very much, he replied, displaying an innocent smile.

Florian chose cider and a pork sausage wrapped in a buckwheat pancake, a specialty of the region that wouldn’t require much preparation. He didn’t want the waitress to have to ask for too many favors from her colleague in the kitchen. As he ate his lunch, he watched the occasional seaside walker through the window. As soon as he had emptied his plate and his glass, the young man got up to pay his bill at the bar. Only two customers were seated there. Their hair beneath their caps was graying and their noses were dotted with broken capillaries likely due to a high alcohol consumption. The waitress handed Florian his change and couldn’t help but look sad as she watched her customer walk out the front door, leaving her in the company of the two elderly sailors.

The young man returned to his car and drove away from the port toward the cape. At the end of the forest, a vast wilderness appeared, overlooking the sea. The panorama was striking. As he exited his car to take a look, Florian raised his jacket collar to protect his neck from the wind that was blowing even more strongly here. By this time of year, the numerous gorse plants had long since finished flowering, but they still provided a glimpse of the wild nature that had been left to take care of itself. A little further on, he was able to distinguish two buildings from a former time: a cannonball oven and the home of a customs officer. The past seemed to have left its mark on modern life. A small pebble beach lay below, rimmed by a turquoise sea. A ray of sunshine sparkled on the water turning its hues progressively toward emerald.

Since time was getting on, Florian tore himself away from his thoughts, got back into his car, and arrived at the notary’s office for their final appointment. Finding a space in the small parking lot, he left his vehicle and spotted the young woman who worked at the town’s real estate agency. Her black hair was tied up in a ponytail making her slender face more evident and highlighting her cleverly made-up green eyes. Dressed in a business suit with a skirt that ended just above her knees, she gave Florian an engaging smile and held out her hand in greeting.

Mr. Brunet, you’re right on time, she commented as he responded with the same gesture.

Mrs. Guerec.

Miss, she clarified. Ready to jump right in?

Absolutely, he confirmed with a confident grin.

In that case, follow me.

Florian entered the office building to sign the final documents that would make him the proud owner of the de Bellieu Manor. Once the administrative formalities were complete, the young realtor jumped into her vehicle to show him the way to the estate. Florian followed her in his. It wasn’t far and he stopped when he saw Miss Guerec exit her car to pull open a large wrought-iron gate. Although her high heels sank dangerously into the gravel, she was able to maintain her balance as she carried out her task. As a result, Florian was able to appreciate her long legs. With the gate now open, they were able to continue along the path that led to the main entrance.

In recent years, nature seemed to have taken over. The vegetation had spread rapidly, contributing to the old dwelling’s dilapidated appearance. From the outside, the manor possessed undeniable charm with its many windows, walls with exposed stones, and a modest, attached tower, similar to a dungeon. In the distance, a tiny outbuilding stood independently of the main house. It was in this lesser building that Florian planned to reside during the peak season when visitors came.

Miss Guerec removed a voluminous bunch of keys from her purse and set about opening the imposing double door. Florian entered the property on the heels of the real estate agent. His gaze was attracted by the tapestries on the walls that had faded over time and were even torn in some places. A thick layer of dust covered the floor like a soft mattress. Various moldings and wood paneling adorned the high ceiling, and the smell of enclosed spaces weighed down the ambient air. Everything appeared dark and austere, but Florian had every intention of restoring the premises.

Would you like to see the entire property to check that nothing has changed since last time?

Florian smiled before nodding. The young woman winked at him understandingly and began climbing the steps of a wide staircase that wound upward to the second floor. They walked through the various rooms, all of which had a different color theme, although they had faded over the decades.

Now that everything has been signed, I can tell you with all honesty that I was far from confident that I would ever be able to sell this property.

Are there any hidden defects? Florian asked as he passed his hand over one of the supports of a four-poster bed that didn’t look very straight.

Trust me, I’ve done everything I can to ensure that this manor has no more secrets for you. You still have a very ambitious project in front of you, she continued with an appreciative look.

I’ve never backed away from a challenge.

Miss Guerec smiled. They continued their visit upward to the attic before returning to the ground floor. They wandered into the kitchen where an imposing cast iron stove took up the largest space. Then they reached the bigger of the two living rooms, at one end of which was a glassed-in area, similar to a greenhouse, where an old grand piano in a sad state of repair still stood. The young woman opened her file of documents over an uneven table—the only piece of furniture other than the musical instrument still standing in that room. She took out a pen and asked Florian to add a final signature to confirm that the keys had been handed over to him. He took the pen and their fingers touched for an instant.

I imagine Mrs. Brunet will be happy, the young woman commented.

Florian understood the question that had been asked with this simple remark. Amused, he smiled before replying, I doubt my mother’s very happy that I’m investing so much in this house.

The young woman raised an eyebrow in surprise.

No one to share this adventure with?

I’m not looking for a serious relationship that might one day urge me to share my surname. No strings to tie me down so I can live my life fully without any hindrance.

It sounds sad when you say it that way.

Why? he asked, surprised. No restrictions. That’s why I’m here in front of you today.

They exchanged a long look. Then Florian continued.

You’ll have to give me the keys now that I’ve signed a paper confirming that you’ve given them to me, Miss Guerec.

Estelle.

The young woman removed the bunch of keys from one of her pockets and hung