Chapter 21: Léonie - Crushing His Mountain Flower

“He’s so tiny,” Étienne said the next morning.

“Yes,” I said. “But he’s growing so fast. I love the little rolls he’s developing. Hugo has had the doctor in to check on him as much as I want, and he says Ciel is eating good and growing perfectly.”

Étienne’s shoulders seemed to slump as the evidence of how his brother had taken over all the roles a father traditionally would have done.

“You’ve done such a perfect job,” he said hoarsely. “I knew you would be an amazing mother. Oh—it looks like he’s waking up!”

As if in a dream, I handed my warm, snuggly son to my husband.

But my eyes were dry as Étienne held my precious Ciel. I thought I would have cried the first time they met, but I hadn’t. It was like a stranger holding him.

Ciel was just waking up from his nap as he settled into the crook of Étienne’s arm and I had to bite down hard on my lip to stop my scream of rage.

To see my little baby nestled in the crook of my big husband’s arm, his rough finger gently stroking his dark curls—it was everything I had dreamed about for so long.

And Étienne had ruined it. Ruined it.

His face looked transformed, the skull-like visage lit up as he looked at his son.

“I’m so sorry I wasn’t here before,” he rumbled as Ciel looked at him with big, wide blue eyes. “That was on me. I will be here now.”

But my heart with him was hard as a rock.

“Léonie, in the light I can see he has your eyes! That exact color of a Heartleaf flower.”

I turned away, my restless hands moving to fold some of Ciel’s little onesies. He was growing so big he was already moving into 3-6 month clothes.

Étienne rocked Ciel and talked to him, about things he wanted to take his son to do, places he wanted him to see, then he talked to him about how much he loved me.

I wanted to leap at him again, scratch his handsome face. But I didn’t. Instead I said nothing. This was Ciel’s daddy.

After our baby got fussy, I sat down and arranged my nursing shirt so Ciel could comfortably drink, sucking the milk in with huge, hungry gulps.

“Can we talk about us?” Étienne asked.

“No.”

He knelt in front of me, one hand on the rocking chair, the other on my ankle.

“Sweetheart, you’re breaking my heart. I’m here begging, fucking begging, for another chance.”

“You can’t get it back,” I said. “No matter how you try, you can’t get those first moments that should have been ours back.”

“I know,” he pleaded, gritting his teeth together. “And I’m so goddamn sorry about that. But we can still have all the future moments together.”

But I turned away.

“Why should I have them with you?” I asked as he made a low, anguished noise.

“If you were a good man,” I told my husband, “you would have just given Hugo that information about Romy without any conditions.”

“You know I’m not a good man,” he countered. “The only thing I care about is getting my family back. And I told you I was willing to do anything to get that.”

A good man? Certainly not. Had he ever been. . .

That night I’d gotten pregnant we’d been up in the mountains with a picnic and a deer had stumbled into the clearing. Étienne’s hand had instantly gone to his bow. You didn’t waste perfectly good meat, and my husband was an excellent hunter.

But something about the doe’s face made me pause, put a hand on his arm.

“Wait,” I said, and Étienne glanced over at me.

“Why?”

I didn’t have a reason at all.

“Please,” was all I said as his dark eyes scanned my face. Then, with a twist of his lips, he lowered the bow.

“How could I deny you anything with that sweet face?”

His hand was on my throat, pulling me closer, because we were like two magnets, and it was easy and it was beautiful and each evidence of his desire was precious to me, but when another animal came shyly into the clearing I gave a crow of triumph.

“Look! Her fawn! I’m so glad you didn’t shoot her.”

“How did you know? Mountain witch,” he said affectionately, gathering me in his arms and we watched as the mother and baby ate a few bites of sweet mountain grass, then pranced away with elegant little leaps.

Then my husband flipped me onto my belly and entered me with long, sweet thrusts and I was mewling with eagerness and desire, gripping the ground to keep from being pounded under the earth.

Now Étienne had our son on his shoulder and he put the other arm around me, caging me against him, his eyes imploring me to give in.

“You were willing to do anything anything except put me first,” I retorted, crossing my arms across my chest.

Étienne blinked for a moment, then a slow, seductive smile spread across his face.

“Who are you, Léonie Bastide?” he marveled, stepping closer, his legs brushing mine, his shirt clinging to the lines of his chest and down to the pants that hung low. “I want to know this side of you.”

“I’m not the woman you thought you knew.”

“Then show me. I want to know you in every lifetime and every form you take.”

Amazing that even with the potent cocktail of my hate and his animal magnetism that my hands still stayed firmly at my side.

“What’s one thing you want more than anything else in the world?” he asked. “Besides the best life for Ciel?”

I hesitated, but there was no harm in telling him. Because he couldn’t do anything about this.

“I want to find where my Gran is. I haven’t seen her in years, and now I suspect either my father or brother killed her. I want to know where she’s buried.”

Even the thought of her being dead made a lump rise in my throat, but I had vowed not to look away from anything that was the truth.

I wasn’t that girl who was sheltered from everything brutal. I refused to do that again.

My husband’s hands tightened around mine.

“Réjean’s is the only body I couldn’t identify in the compound. I will find out. One way or the other. We are hunting him, and when I found out where she is? I’ll bring her bones home for you to put her to rest. That I promise you.”

“We’ll see. Was there no one of her description there?”

Étienne shook his head. “All elderly people, women, and children were outside the main compound in another cottage and none of them were harmed in the raid. I went there myself personally to make sure none of your other relatives were there. I will find out more information about her death.”

“Thank you,” I said, my voice sounding choked.

Placidie ignored me now, stiff and frosty and obeying Étienne, but Faustine’s eyes still followed me.

She had lost something she wanted badly, and I knew even with Étienne’s orders, she would find a way to let me know how she felt.

One day after supper, when Étienne had served me dinner as I held Ciel in my arms, it was too much to keep her disgust inside.

“I think you’re so selfish,” she hissed after the men had left the table. “Look what you have him doing. Serving a woman her dinner. Acting like he’s weak. He needs a woman beside him who will give him status and honor, and you aren’t that. He’s only with you because he got you pregnant. Otherwise, he would’ve stayed with me. I had a ring on my finger, and it’s only gone now because of the baby.”

I could go back and forth with her bullshit, but suddenly I felt exhausted and my milk was leaking through my breast pads.

“All right,” I said. “You think he’s only staying with me out of obligation? Let’s find out.”

Without another word, I put Ciel on my shoulder and walked down the hall to where Étienne was standing around the table, pointing out something on a map.

“Léonie, wait,” she protested, but I was done with her bullshit.

“Étienne,” I called out. “Faustine here thinks you’re only staying with me because of Ciel.”

He turned with a snarl, his eyes boring into hers.

“What did I fucking say about disrespecting my wife? Was I not very fucking clear?”

“But she said the baby is your brother’s⁠—"

He slammed his hand down on the table.

“Enough. I want you to stay in my mother’s quarters. I don’t want to see one fucking inch of you. Stay in there and do what she says, and if I see you, you’ll be out of on your ass.”

Faustine’s face was crimson with the rejection, but she didn’t dare to say another word.

“I apologize I ever gave this woman a reason to lord it over you,” Étienne said. “I promise it will never happen again. Now would you like to come in here and see the inventory I’ve drawn up of the Pinoteaux lands? Remember, they are yours now.”

Hm, involving me in any family business matters? Informing me about what was going on.

That was new.