Sparked by her comment, his expression changed, and his smile widened. He laughed, “No need to imagine, dear girl. My son, Benoît, looks a great deal like me. We have a similar countenance—though I confess, he is more like his mother.”
The mention of Ben made her heart skip.
“I remember him,” she said. “How is he?”
Edgar was silent as he turned and fumbled with the gate again.
“He is healthy and well.” His voice dropped to just above a whisper as he said, “And alive.”
“He must miss being home,” she said, but Edgar ignored her as they entered the structure. She chided herself for being forward. Clearly, Ben was a sensitive subject.
With a deep breath, Remi followed him inside. She was surprised by its size; there were two walls with family names and a stone casket in the center. Dying flowers and burned candles were left on its surface, which Edgar collected. She watched him approach each name, mumble something to himself, and move on. He did it for every name. There was a change when he approached his late wife. He lingered, bringing his fingers to his lips, and pressing them to the stone where her name was engraved.
It was a private moment he shared with the departed, a silence that she dared not interrupt. When he spoke again, his heart seemed heavy. “Thank you for your kindness today.”
Remi tilted her head. “Have I done something?”
“I have been alone for more than a decade,” he said. “It was kind of you to offer me your company.”
“There’s no need to thank me,” she said.
“You are family now,” he said, once more pressing a hand to his late wife’s name. “And my family holds my treasure.”
She smiled. “To hear you say that warms my heart.”
He returned her smile in kind. “Shall we return?”
If we must, she thought. “Yes.”
Their visit to the mausoleum was brief, but it had been a reprieve from the monotony that had become her days. She knew as soon as they left, they would each return to their respective solace. And she was right. As soon as they walked through the front doors of the manor, they went their separate ways: Remi to the dining room, where Sylvie waited with a lunch tray, and Edgar to his study.
The carriage lurched, pulling Remi from her thoughts.
The pressure of Ben’s presence had grown overnight. Remi couldn’t ignore him, especially not after witnessing his state the night before. The only thing that eclipsed him was the sight of the mausoleum.
Near the very back of the cemetery, past the other graves she saw on her first trip, there was the Leone family mausoleum. It was the only granite building of its kind, in both stature and grandiosity. It was almost as large as one of the rooms in the manor, with a set of stairs and a wrought-iron gate fixed against its double doors. Greenery grew flush around its base, bushes and flowers and trees flanking either side. There were no other graves nearby.
“Have you been here before, Madame?” Sylvie asked.
They shared the carriage, as Ben opted to ride with the coach carrying Edgar.
“I have,” Remi said as Martin opened the door.
The morning air was thick and chilly, and the ground beneath their feet was soft with wet mud. The damp air clung to Remi’s body; she pulled her shawl tighter around her shoulders. Little drops of rain dotted her face, making her shiver.
“Looks like another storm soon, Madame,” Martin said, leading them toward the mausoleum.
Ben and his footman, Jacques, helped the undertaker remove the casket. She watched, remembering the vision of Edgar with a shiver. It terrified her to wonder if she would see him there again, standing beside the mausoleum or peering from behind a tree, looking at her with that same dead look in his eyes. A tap on her shoulder drew her back to reality.
“Madame?” Sylvie whispered.
“Are we having trouble?” Ben asked as they approached with the casket. His dark hair fell forward, covering half of his face.
Sylvie tapped Remi’s arm again.
“No,” she said too quickly, producing the key from her pocket. Her fingers shook as the gate opened. No doubt they were all curious as to why.
“Mind your heads,” Remi said as she went ahead.
The coffin was placed atop the stone casket, where it would later be put to rest inside. Unlike the rest of his family, Edgar would not join his family behind the granite walls of the crypt. Instead, he would sit at its heart.
Remi folded herself into the mausoleum as the casket was carried inside. She and the others waited until it was placed atop the stone slab. A collective breath was released the moment it was set down. There was room enough for everyone, but Ben shuffled close to Remi, taking his place beside her. It felt purposeful as if he wanted her to feel every inch of him that towered over her. Remi never considered herself a small woman, but when tucked against Ben’s side, she found it hard to be anything but small.
“Shall we say a prayer?” Martin asked, his voice heavy with grief.
“Go on.” Ben nodded.
Remi closed her eyes and bowed her head, tuning out the sound of the prayer. This would be the final send-off, and then everything would return to normal. Whatever normal would be for her. A shared space again, this time with someone she wasn’t sure enjoyed her company at all. The rest of her life, it seemed, would remain as dull and bleak as the weeks following her wedding.
“Madame?”
Remi straightened. “Yes?”
“Would you like to say a few words?” It was Martin who asked, but everyone else’s eyes were watching.
“Ah, well—”
Ben touched her arm briefly, and she quieted.
