“Correct, Monsieur. It is my problem,” Ben said, his words hard and bitter. “As well as Madame Leone’s.”

Hugo softened again at the mention of Remi. Perhaps he was fond of her after all, Ben thought.

“Listen, I don’t consider myself an unreasonable man, so I will look into my father’s work to find a solution,” Ben said. “But it would make things easier if you were amicable, for Madame Leone’s sake. Do you find this agreeable?”

Hugo watched him as the gears in his mind turned. “This is important.” Hugo struggled to keep his expression neutral, but the mask was slipping.

“You see, I am only appointed half of my father’s estate, with the other half belonging to her.” Ben watched Hugo’s hold finally loosen. “While I would hate to get her involved, I’m afraid I have to bring her into the fold. That said, if you would like to spare her the trouble of looking further, given that her husband has passed, you might grant me more time on my own to do some digging.”

“Fine,” Hugo snapped. “Fine.”

“Worry not. I’ll look into this, Monsieur Marchand.” Ben would look into it, just not for Hugo. He couldn’t care less what debts they felt they were owed. No one would wrest a single cent from his father. “Rest assured that any dealings my father negotiated before his passing will be handled with the utmost care. Whatever I find, I will honor—given the state of its import.”

Ben locked eyes with Jacques and jerked his chin toward the door. He nodded and sauntered toward the double oaks and pushed one open softly. Hugo watched with narrowed eyes.

“Please convey my thoughts to Monsieur Cuvilyé.”

“I will,” Hugo said stiffly.

“Good.” Ben feigned a smile, feeling somewhat smug as Hugo slumped. “Jacques will show you out.”

Without another word, Hugo hurried out of the study and bypassed Jacques entirely. The minute he was gone, Ben let out a deep breath.

“He’ll be more trouble for you later on,” Jacques said plainly.

Ben frowned, pushing himself up from his father’s desk. “Less so if I manage to get my father’s affairs in order.”

Both men entered the hallway, closing the study door behind them. They walked slowly, voices just above a whisper as they spoke. “Does this warrant a conversation with Madame Leone? Perhaps she knows?”

“No.” Ben thought back to her confusion in the study earlier that morning. It seemed to him that his father kept her separate from anything to do with their finances. “She wouldn’t know anything.”

“Seems strange,” Jacques said.

Ben spied Remi bobbing between some of the mourners. She had shed her veil completely, curling tendrils of blonde hair framing her hardened face. She looked one taut string away from losing her grip entirely. He was so focused on her wavering expressions and blue-green eyes that he completely missed what Jacques said to him.

“Did you hear me?” Jacques asked, his brows pulled together in concern.

“My apologies.” Ben blinked. “What were you saying?”

“Hugo. What would you like to do?”

“For now…” Ben watched Remi disappear. “For now, we’ll keep this between us.”

With a nod, Jacques sank back into the shadows and Ben returned reluctantly to the sorrowful mourners and the stories that would inevitably follow, all the while wishing that he could seek out solace in the silence he imagined Remi found in the garden.

OPEN CASKET

REMI

Exhausted from the day, Remi wanted nothing more than to turn in for the night. Her feet ached, and her corset pinched uncomfortably. Still, she needed to be sure the manor was clear of any lingering guests before she could find some respite. Suppressing a groan, she stifled her discomfort for a few moments longer.

“You’re nearly there,” she whispered to herself.

There was no one left in the manor except for those inhabiting its walls. Paul and Martin headed down the drive toward town, and Sylvie was no doubt preparing Remi’s room, having already taken care of Elise’s accommodations.

With a great sigh, she rounded the corner to the parlor and stopped short of going in. Partly because she’d avoided it all day, but mostly because Ben was there beside his father’s casket, his back to her. She could not see his face, but she could hear his voice.

Not wanting to interrupt him, she turned to leave but mistakenly stepped on a floorboard with a notoriously loud creak. It echoed in the hall, calling attention to her presence. In less than a second, Ben was hovering in the door frame with a curious look on his face.

“Why are you out here creeping about?”

Remi blushed and hissed, “I was not creeping!”

He seemed unconvinced at first, but finally, the wrinkle between his thick brows smoothed out, and he sighed. “Then what are you doing out here?”

“Nothing scandalous,” she said, feeling slightly defensive. “I wanted to be sure that the manor was clear of any guests still loitering about.”

“And are we alone?” he asked, his eyes momentarily shifting from her to the open spaces around them.

“Yes, I think so.”

He crossed his arms and leaned against the frame. “I overheard your garish aunt mumbling about your cousin. Is she staying?”

“She is.” Remi nodded. “She would say it’s because I’m in need of comfort. Really, I think this whole situation is an excuse for her to avoid her wedding plans.”

Ben smirked. “Fair enough.”

“I hope it’s alright that she’s here. I don’t expect my aunt will let her stay for much longer.”

“As far as I’m concerned, Madame, you have free reign of this place. It’s as much mine as it is yours.” He paused. “My father was quite clear about that.”

Remi frowned. She wondered if it upset him that his father split the inheritance, little that there was given that the other half might not even exist. It never crossed her mind during their heated exchange earlier that morning to ask him how he felt about the arrangement.

“I’m sorry for earlier,” Remi started, feeling breathless as she spoke. “Your cheek, is it sore?”

Ben’s eyes widened. “Not necessary. It was well-deserved.”

“It was unladylike,” Remi insisted.

Ben studied her for a moment longer. “And I am telling you that it was well-deserved.”

Remi sucked in a breath, ready to argue, but he smiled, shattering her resolve.

“Besides,” his voice dipped lower as he spoke, leaning in toward her face, “I like a woman with a strong right hand. Helps remind us stubborn men of our place.”

“Let’s not make a habit of it,” Remi said.

“Speaking of.” Ben’s smile remained as he straightened. “How often do you find yourself in the company of Monsieur Marchand?”