The Life of Matthias de Véreaux - Part 7

The Life of Matthias de Véreaux

Seigneur of Montclair

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Part VII

Demands in the Library

 

It is a curious thing about quiet lives.

They can continue peacefully for many years, interrupted only occasionally by small disturbances, until one day the disturbances begin arriving with greater frequency.

Such moments often signal that something larger has begun to move beneath the surface.

I had just settled into my usual place in the library one afternoon when the disturbance arrived in a rather direct form.

The door opened without the customary knock.

Three figures entered the room together.

My brothers and sister.

I did not see them often, and when I did, it was rarely by choice.

My younger brother Étienne stood at the front of the group. He carried himself with the sort of confidence that often appears in men who have never been required to bear responsibility for anything beyond their own comfort.

Behind him stood Lucien, the second brother, whose quiet expression always made it difficult to determine exactly what he might be thinking.

My sister, Marguerite, remained slightly behind the two of them, her arms folded calmly as she observed the room.

None of them appeared pleased to be there.

And I suspected they had not come for a friendly visit.

“Matthias,” Étienne said.

He did not bother with titles.

I closed the book that had been lying open before me.

“Étienne,” I replied.

The three of them stepped farther into the library. The tension in the room became noticeable almost immediately.

“What brings you to my side of the château?” I asked.

Étienne smiled faintly, though there was very little warmth in it.

“Family matters,” he said.

Lucien pulled a chair away from the table and sat down without invitation. Marguerite remained standing, watching me with an expression that suggested quiet amusement.

Étienne began pacing slowly near the window.

“You manage everything in Montclair,” he said after a moment. “The finances. The land. The harvests. The trade.”

“That is correct,” I said.

“And you make these decisions alone.”

“That is also correct.”

Étienne stopped pacing and turned toward me.

“We have decided,” he said carefully, “that this arrangement should change.”

I waited for him to continue.

“It is only reasonable,” he went on, “that the rest of the family should have a say in how the estate is run.”

Lucien leaned forward slightly.

“After all,” he added, “we are all members of the house of Véreaux.”

The proposal was not unexpected.

Rumors of such ideas had been drifting through the servants’ quarters for some time.

Still, hearing it spoken openly in the library felt different.

“And what responsibilities would you be assuming in this arrangement?” I asked.

Étienne waved his hand dismissively.

“The details can be sorted out later.”

“I see.”

Lucien spoke again.

“We are not asking for much,” he said. “Simply a voice in the decisions. Access to the accounts. Perhaps some authority over certain expenditures.”

Marguerite finally stepped forward.

“Think of it as a partnership,” she said smoothly.

I looked at each of them in turn.

It was not difficult to understand what they truly wanted.

Influence.

Control.

And the wealth that accompanies both.

Without the burden of managing the consequences.

“Montclair is not a partnership,” I said calmly.

The words hung in the air for a moment.

Étienne’s expression hardened.

“You are being unreasonable.”

“No,” I replied. “I am being responsible.”

Lucien’s fingers tapped quietly against the table.

“You cannot manage everything forever,” he said.

“Perhaps not,” I agreed. “But while I hold this responsibility, I will manage it properly.”

Marguerite sighed softly, as though the conversation had become tiresome.

“You always were stubborn, Matthias.”

Étienne stepped closer to the table.

“You think you can simply refuse us?”

“Yes,” I said.

For a moment the room was completely silent.

Then Étienne laughed quietly.

“Very well,” he said.

The tone of his voice carried a strange edge that I did not particularly like.

“We will discuss the matter again another time.”

Lucien stood slowly from his chair.

Marguerite turned toward the door.

The three of them left the library without another word.

When the door closed behind them, the quiet of the room returned almost immediately.

But it did not feel quite the same as it had before.

I remained seated at the table for some time, staring down at the map that still lay open before me.

The forests beyond Montclair seemed very peaceful as they stretched across the page.

Yet the château itself suddenly felt a little less quiet.

And a little less safe.

Still, I had faced such tensions before.

Families are rarely simple things.

And I had no reason to believe that this disagreement would prove any different from the others.

Life would continue as it always had.

Or so I believed at the time.

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(To be continued in Part 8: The Last Hunting Trip)