Chapter Text
Ophélie was walking distractedly through the countryside.
She was finishing reading a book that her great-uncle had lent her, from his own private library, which meant a lot, since he didn't lend books to anyone.
It was a compilation of old tales, preserved in a brown leather binding. It was a little worn by time, but it was still a beautiful edition.
When he had finished reading it, she returned home.
It had been a good read, even though she had found the beginning a little tedious.
She could hear Léonore playing the piano.
She walked past a white clothes line and a goose garden to the front door.
From the porch window she could see her mother and great-uncle talking in the library.
He was sitting, reading the paperback, and she was standing, anxiously holding a handkerchief.
- Don't you want to know who the tenant is? - She listened to her mother ask her great-uncle. She was probably talking about the house in Netherfield Park, which was for rent. Her mother had only known about it for the last few weeks, she was excited to find out who would be renting it, and by the looks of it, she already knew who had.
The first thing she saw when she entered the house was Domitille and Béatrice listening from behind the library door.
- Tille, Béa, what have I told you about listening behind the door? - She tugged at Domitille's skirts, laughing. The two sisters had a habit of always listening behind the door, even if Ophélie scolded them.
- It's all right. They're talking about a Mr. Renard. - Domitille whispered to her.
- A respectable young man.
- And rich. 5,000 pounds a year.
That last part caught Ophélie's attention.
- Is that so? - She soon joined them to listen too.
- And he's single. - Said their mother to their great-uncle, who seemed to care little.
- He 'sa bachelor! - Domitille and Béatrice said in unison, too loudly.
- Who 'sa bachelor? - Agathe appeared behind her, holding several colored ribbons in one hand and embroidery in the other.
- A Mr. Renard, apparently. Stop Tille. - She asked her younger sister to stop laughing, as much as she was laughing too.
From where Ophélie stood, she could see her great-uncle stand up and say:
- And what do the girls have to do with it? - He asked, walking over to one of the bookshelves
His mother followed him.
- You're a fool, Uncle! You don't understand that I want to marry you off to one of them.
- So that's why he comes to live here. To marry one of my great-nieces. - He said, with obvious irony. He was holding a pot of orchids in one hand.
- And that's why you're going to visit him when he arrives. - The mother could see them now, and not only her, but also the uncle, who opened the door and found himself facing that very feminine group.
- Girls. - He greeted them, still holding the vase.
He passed them, with his mother running after him, to go to the anteroom
- We can't visit him if you don't come. - His mother ran after him, holding up her skirts.
- You're listening, Uncle? You never listen. - Domitille, who was her mothers favorite, ran to her mothers side.
- You must go and see him. Soon. - Béatrice said.
Léonore was leaving the piano to go after them too.
The great-uncle stopped at the door of the antechamber, still holding the vase, and looked at them.
- There's no need, I've already done it. - He said, to their surprise.
- Already? When? - asked their mother, confused.
Ophélie surrounded her younger sisters and sat down on the sofa. Agathe sat behind her on a stool.
Her uncle put the vase on the mantelpiece and sat down in a chair that gave a view of everyone in the room.
- How can you keep this news from us, Uncle? Have you no compassion for my nerves? - Mother asked, wringing the cloth in her hands.
- I have a lot of respect for them since your husband died and I came to live with you. They have been a very recent companion these last few years. - He replied, crossing his hands under his belly. Ophélie laughed.
There was a pause, but her mother asked, seconds later:
- Is he kind?
- Is he handsome? - Béatrice asked.
- Who? - Léonore appeared, standing in the doorway of the anteroom.
Domitille, who was jumping for joy around the room, skipped past her mother.
- He certainly is handsome.
- With so many pounds a year, it doesn't matter if he has warts. - Ophélie said, making Agathe laugh.
- Who has warts? - Léonore asked.
- I will give my consent to him, for marriage, with whichever one he chooses.
Domitille sat down facing her uncle.
- So he's going to the ball tomorrow? - she asked.
He remained silent, to build suspense, but then answered.
- He will.
This made his mother, Domitille and Béatrice shout with joy.
Béatrice let go of her sister's hand and went to Agathe to beg. She wanted to borrow a printed dress, and in return, she would lend Agathe a pair of green shoes. Domitille also went to her to borrow a hat, and vowed to do whatever she wanted for a month.
Ophélie watched the scene, laughing and finding it funny.
- If all the men in the salon don't end the evening in love with you, then I don't know how to judge beauty.
Ophélie was sitting with Agathe and Gaelle. Gaelle was her best friend, the daughter of a gentleman, and was the most beautiful girl in the county, second only to her sister Agathe.
- The men. - Agathe scoffed.
- They are so easy to judge. - Ophélie laughed.
They were sitting, waiting for the dance to finish. It was the second time Ophélie had had a chair tea. The number of men was limited, which meant that some girls would be left without a date.
She could see her mother, great-uncle and Léonore from where she was.
Domitille and Béatrice were the only ones who had not had chair tea. All the young or not so young people at the party wanted to dance with them.
- They're not so bad. - Gaelle said, laughing.
- They all have humor, in my limited experience.
- You're going to meet someone impressive, then you'll have to learn to control your tongue. - Agathe retorted, laughing too.
The music and dancing suddenly stopped.
From where they were they couldn't see who the new guests were who had just arrived, but they knew who they were. Still, the three of them stood on their tiptoes to get a better look at the distinguished guests.
Ophélie could see two men. One was red-haired and smiling. The other was blond and frowning.
- Which of those starched men is our dear Mr. Renard? - She murmured to Gaelle. Not only was she the prettiest girl in the county, she was also the most informed. She knew about everything and everyone.
- He's the one on the right. The ones on the left are your acquaintances: Mr. Thorn and his cousin, Miss Patience. The latter's brother is close to being disinherited by the family, even though he is the only heir. He is a libertine, and has spent some of the family fortune in London on gambling.
- They both sound like poor unfortunate souls condemned to hell. - She said, laughing. This Mr. Thorn had such a contemptuous look on his face that he seemed to want to run away from the party. Or rather, it looked like he didn't even want to be there.
- They may be unfortunate, but they are certainly not poor.
- Do you swear?
- Mr. Thorn alone has an income of 10,000 pounds. He owns much of Derbyshire.
- Kind of unfortunate then. - Agathe said, making them both laugh.
The group passed them, and as good manners dictated, they bowed slightly.
For some reason, Mr. Thorn looked directly at Ophélie. But she didn't care, because she now looked at Gaelle again and laughed again.
The group kept walking, until they reached the front of the fireplace. The only one who did not seem to judge the other guests was Mr. Renard, who was smiling.
The music started up again and everyone started dancing again.
Mr. Renard was a man of pleasant and gentlemanly features, who soon won the popularity of everyone at the ball.
His acquaintance, Mr. Thorn, also attracted the attention of the ballroom with his tall, elegant and aristocratic figure. Word of his annual income soon spread. The men admired him for his haughtiness and the women thought him noble. His tide of popularity soon turned when they realized he was proud. He didn't talk to anyone other than people in his own group, and he didn't dance with anyone, other than thinking he was superior. Even his enormous income and extensive holdings did not make him worthy.
The three watched the group.
- Smile, Agathe, smile for Mr. Renard. - Ophélie said to her sister, but she shook her head in disgust.
- No. He looks very silly.
She turned to her friend.
- Then smile at yourself, Gaelle. You seemed to like him more than my sister.
Gaelle didn't reply, but blushed at what she said.
Her mother crossed the hall, passed through the crowd and reached them.
She took Agathe by the hand and led her to the guests of honor. Gaelle and Ophélie followed them there.
Her uncle and her sister Léonore joined them.
- Mr. Renard, this is my daughter. These are my neighbors. Mr. Richard, his niece, Mrs. Sophie and her great-nieces, Miss Léonore, Miss Agathe and Miss Ophélie. - Gaelle's father introduced them to the guests.
- It is an honor to meet you. I have two more daughters, who are not here because they are dancing. - Said the mother. She was very excited to push one of her two older daughters to Mr. Renard.
- I am delighted to meet you. - He replied, kindly.
- Let me introduce you to Mr. Thorn of Pemberley and Derbyshire, and his cousin, Miss Patience. - Gaelle's father also introduced them to the group, and unlike Mr. Renard, they said nothing. Absolutely nothing.
Once the introductions were made, the group dissipated. Agathe got a date and went dancing. She and Gaelle stayed chatting with Mr. Renard, who was very cheerful not only in appearance.
Mr. Thorn and his cousin confined themselves to talking to each other, but nothing beyond that.
- Are you enjoying Hertfordshire, Mr. Renard? - Gaelle asked him.
- Very much, thank you.
- They say Netherfield's library is one of the best in the country. - Ophélie said. In truth, she wasn't so sure about the information, but as it was her great-uncle who had told him, it was quite likely to be true.
- I'm ashamed to say this, but I'm not much of a reader. I prefer to do things outdoors.
- I would like to read more, but there are always so many things to do.
- I think the same.
The conversation between the three of them was short-lived, because Mr. Renard took Gaelle out to dance.
Her sister and her friend were dancing, and since she had no one to talk to, no one who was part of her inner circle, she had to talk to the one person who didn't want to talk.
- Do you ever dance, Mr. Thorn?
- Not if I can help it. - He replied, very rudely.
He was the only one who hadn't danced yet, and Ophélie hoped he would get her out to dance, but from the looks of it, that wasn't going to happen.
Ophélie had to sit a little longer before the next dance began.
She found her sister across the hall and went to sit with her.
She saw Mr. Renard and Mr. Thorn passing near them. The former sat down on a chair to rest. He had been dancing with Gaelle until now.
- I have never seen such beautiful girls. - He said, smiling.
- You are dancing with the only beautiful girl in the room. - Mr. Thorn walked beside him, checking a gold watch.
- She is the most beautiful creature I have ever seen. But her friend Ophélie is very pleasant.
- Tolerable, but not pretty enough for me. - He put the watch back in his pocket - Better go back to your dance partner and enjoy her smiles. You're wasting your time with me.
Mr. Renard obeyed and went back to dancing. Mr. Thorn walked away, and Ophélie's feelings towards him were less than cordial after his speech regarding her appearance.
- Thank God, Ophie. If he liked you, you'd have to talk to him. - Agathe took her hand, but Ophélie wasn't sad, in fact she thought it was funny.
- Exactly. And I wouldn't dance with him for all of Derbyshire. - That made them both laugh
The dance went merrily on until the end. Ophélie was able to dance with Mr. Renard and three other pairs.
Mother was furious when she found out that Ophélie had been snubbed by Mr. Thorn. She hadn't gone much with his temper before, after that snub then she hated him.
Gaelle spent the rest of the party dancing with Mr. Renard, much to the chagrin of Ophélie's mother, who had hoped her eldest daughter Agathe would win him over.
In the end, the party was very pleasant. And everyone went home happy.