Page 54 of Across Time

“Why not?” I ask. “She’s very pretty. I’d think that would induce you to dance whether you wanted to or not.”

His brow furrows. “I’ll get us cocktails,” he says. “Perhaps that will improve your mood.”

He walks away, but no sooner has he left than a man I don’t recognize drops into his seat.

“Exactly who I was hoping to talk to!” he says. “I thought I’d have to wait until Henri was in the bathroom before I got my chance.”

He’s young and handsome in a slightly more polished way than Henri. More like Mark, actually. To my surprise I find I don’t prefer it.

“Have we met?” I ask.

He smiles. “From what I’ve heard, the Durands only let you leave home to attend mass, and since I try to make sure I’m still asleep during mass, meeting you has proved difficult. My name is Luc. What would you like to drink?”

“I think Henri—”

Luc waves his hand. "Henri will come back with something dull. Have you ever had a sidecar?” He grabs someone passing by and pushes some francs in his hand, before clapping him on the back. “There. He’ll be back with our drinks in a moment, but hopefully I’ll have persuaded you to run off to Paris with me before he returns. I doubt your cousin is going to let me linger long enough to see you finish a drink.”

“Paris?” I ask.

“Yes,” he says with a crooked smile. “We’re heading there once they’ve run out of booze here. I promise you a night you’ll never forget.” He gives me such an unapologetically lecherous look that I can’t help but laugh.

“Got Durand away from her already?” says one of two men approaching the table.

Luc leans toward me. “Here come my friends, trying to move in the moment I’ve got you to myself. They’re very bad people. I don’t know why I like them.” He turns to them as they take seats at the table. “Go away. I got to her first.”

They both laugh, introducing themselves to me in English, though they don’t speak it with Luc’s ease.

Henri is near the bar with drinks in hand, surrounded by a half circle of females vying for his attention. I’m sure he’s told all of them they look lovely too, though he appears to be trying to get away from them. I accept the drink from Luc when it’s delivered, taking some small amount of consolation from Luc’s conversation in French with Jean and Marc, rude though it is.

No wonder Henri’s been keeping her to himself, says Jean.

Can you marry a cousin? asks Marc.

No, but I bet you can fuck one if you keep it quiet, replies Luc.

Luc turns to me, asking about my trip here and how long I plan to stay and if I’m ready to leave for Paris yet because the dance is already boring him. Suddenly Henri is looming over us both. He sets a drink in front of me with an irritated glance at my half-empty sidecar.

Trying to get my cousin drunk, Barbier? he asks Luc.

I was hoping I might, Luc replies. No luck thus far, however.

I’ve never seen Henri smile in quite such a threatening way before. If I see you near her again, I’m going to smash your pretty face wide open, he says quietly, still smiling as if his words are pleasant, and there won’t be enough liquor in the world to get you laid. Now get out of my seat.

Luc raises a brow and shrugs, leaning over my hand with a broad smile. “Your cousin is telling me I need to leave. But if you want to come to Paris with us, let me know. I’ll help you escape.” He moves away with a wink, and Henri drops into the chair he vacated.

“Stay away from Luc,” he says. “He’s not a good person.”

I finish my sidecar. “Tell me something, Henri, who are the good people in Saint Antoine? Because as yet I’ve only heard you mention the bad.”

He glances over at me. “There aren’t any.”

“Except for you?”

He picks up his glass and empties it. “Not even me,” he replies.

We watch Marie dancing, flushed and happy. I envy her mobility and feel sorry for her at the same time—this is who she could be and should be all the time, if their lives were less closed off.

“She should be at university,” I say.