“La, so touchy. Very well then, here she is,” she said. There was a moment of silence and then his mother’s cool, sophisticated voice floated across the line into his ear.
“Laurent, so very good of you to call.” Far from being beside herself with worry she simply sounded bored. There was a pause in which she must have been making some kind of play in the bridge game and then she spoke again. “I suppose you know you’re father is in a towering rage.”
“Celeste said as much. Which is why I thought it best to call and check in.”
“Mmm-hmm. And where are you, anyway? Visiting your old nurse, I suppose, since you pestered her address out of me the other night.”
“I am.” Laurent saw no reason to deny it. “And I plan to be here for a little while yet.”
His mother made an annoyed yet somehow elegant sound at the back of her throat.
“And I suppose you expect me to smooth things over with your father? I won’t do it, Laurent. I don’t understand why you felt it necessary to go running off to see that old bat anyway, let alone at such a crucial juncture when you’re about to inherit the title.”
“Maybe I don’t want to inherit the title,” Laurent said, playing for time. “Maybe I don’t feel ready and I needed some time to think.”
“And you can think better in Asheville than Miami?”
“I wanted to talk to someone with a warm heart who would listen to my fears and not judge me.”
“And your old blood nurse is the sympathetic soul you sought out for this sentimental rubbish?” His mother snorted delicately. “Forgive me, darling, but I find that laughable.”
“Why?” Laurent demanded. “Why should you think it strange that I go to visit the only female who ever showed me any affection? The one who kissed me and held me and tucked me in to sleep every dawn of my young life? The only one who ever truly loved me?” There was a long moment of silence in which he was afraid he’d pushed things too far and his mother would simply hang up. But then she said, rather flatly, “If you’re trying to make me feel guilty, please don’t bother, Laurent. I raised you as I was raised and treated you with complete propriety commensurate to our station in life.”
“Propriety isn’t love.” Laurent tried to keep his voice as cold as hers but the old hurt bubbled up inside him, making it difficult. He took a deep breath, forcing his emotions down. “At any rate, Mother, I didn’t call to fight with you. I simply wished to inform you that I will be staying with Nana for a little longer. I need some time away from you and Father and I have no wish to be present while the house is full of visiting dignitaries and prospective consorts.”
“Well you’d better put in an appearance at some point. The title passing ceremony can hardly take place if your father has no one to pass the title to.”
“I am well aware of that, Mother.” Laurent sighed. “Tell Father not to worry about me—I haven’t forgotten my duty. I’ll be in Miami on the night of the ceremony.”
Whether I’ll actually be at the ceremony is a whole other matter. But he didn’t say it aloud— his future with Paul was still too uncertain.
“See that you are.” His mother sounded distracted. “I must go, Laurent—you’re making me lose this hand.”
“Will you speak to Father?”
There was a bored and slightly irritated sigh at the other end of the line. “Very well, I’ll do my best to placate him. But you’d best be back in plenty of time before the ceremony if you know what’s good for you.”
“It’ll be back the night of the ceremony,” Laurent said evenly. “And not before.”
She sighed again. “You had better be there or I won’t answer for the consequences.
Do remember, darling, that your father has a rather warm temper. I wouldn’t push it if I were you.”
“Of course not.” Saying that his father had a “warm temper” was like saying the ocean was a bit wet but then, his mother had never been given to hyperbole any more than she’d been given to open displays of affection. Or any kind of affection, really. “I’ll speak to you later,” Laurent said.
“If you wish. Oh Celeste, I can’t believe you played that card…”
Since her interest in the conversation was clearly at an end, Laurent hung up without saying goodbye. He doubted that his mother would notice or care but at least she would try to keep his father in check and that was really all that mattered.
Or so he told himself…
Despite the old pain that the conversation had stirred in him, Laurent had been able to put it aside and concentrate on his joy in being with Paul. He only hoped that his lover felt the same way but as their days together drew to an end, he knew the time for a confrontation was coming. Before too long Paul was going to have to make his decision and Laurent was terribly afraid to find out what it would be. *