“As do we,” Natalie agreed readily.
They lapsed into silence, content to watch the countryside roll by. The sky, which the night before had been so full of the promise of an early snow, was now gloomy and featureless. The coastline was far behind them now, and Julien and Kieran spoke softly in the front seat while Natalie and her brother dozed.
Calvin woke as they were nearing the Pont Neuf bridge and past the Île de la Cité. Calvin nudged his sister awake excitedly as they approached the Faubourg Saint-Germain, which was Julien’s neighborhood. “Wake up. We’re almost there!”
She rubbed her eyes and peered out the window. ”Mmm … the Seine,” she murmured dreamily.
“I’ve always found it ironic that the name of the oldest bridge in Paris literally means New Bridge,” Kieran noted, as they crossed the seventeenth-century landmark.
“I’m feeling a bit like an antique myself,” Julien said, stretching. “I can’t wait to get home and take a hot bath.”
They drove down the Rue Dauphine and soon arrived in front of a stately stone mansion, encircled by a tall wrought-iron fence.
“Do drive around back, Kieran. You can park in the courtyard,” Julien suggested.
Kieran nodded, turning onto a side street, and pulled into a cobblestone driveway. Julien Romarin’s home took up a large corner of Rue Dauphine. On the surface, it was very elegant and understated, but once you entered the building, all pretenses of conservatism were gone. The structure was three stories not including the basement, which boasted a cavernous wine cellar. There was an indoor pool and a fantastic rooftop garden, which was filled with fruit trees, fountains, and even an aviary. In addition, the interior of the house was crammed with more artwork than some museums could boast, and Julien’s vast library put his brother’s to shame.
Upon entering his beloved home, Julien let out a long sigh. “How good it is to be back!”
He reverted to his native French upon entering the house, and they all followed suit. It was the family’s habit to switch back and forth, depending on where they were. Just then a squeal of joy was heard from upstairs, startling the new arrivals. Calvin looked up as a beautiful young woman came hurtling down. He stood transfixed as she descended, her long auburn tresses trailing behind her.
“You’ve returned!” she cried, and eyed the little group with an appraising eye.
“Angelique,” Julien said sternly but with a twinkle in his eye, “you must try to contain yourself. I’m too old to be greeted with hysterics.” He gave the girl a quick hug. “But you are a sight to behold, as always,” he added, before introducing her to the others. “This is my intrepid assistant, Angelique.”
“Enchanté,” Kieran said gallantly.
Natalie shook Angelique’s hand warmly. “Uncle Julien told us he had a brilliant new assistant. Very pleased to meet you.”
Calvin hung back while introductions were made. He was being unusually shy, and Natalie realized he was a little dumbstruck by the lovely Angelique. She pulled him forward a little roughly and said, “This is Calvin, my brother.”
Angelique looked at him mischievously. “So this is the nephew of Julien! I’ve seen a picture of you and your pretty sister in Julien’s office, and was hoping I’d get to meet you some day!”
“How do you do?” he managed to croak out.
She wagged her finger at him playfully, saying, “You can’t be shy with me! I simply won’t allow it.”
“I’m afraid Angelique is rather too demonstrative with her thoughts and feelings,” Julien explained to them with a look of contrived long-suffering. It was obvious he was very fond of her.
“You know I’m the best assistant you ever had,” she replied, without a trace of humility.
“She’s right,” Julien said with a sigh. “I guess I’ll have to keep her around for now. Ever since I retired from the Bibliothèque, it seems that I’ve had more work than I can possibly manage. Angelique has become invaluable to me. Well, prove yourself so,” he turned to her, “and tell me who is currently in residence.”
“Finley Constance has just left. He thought you were still in town, but I told him you had to leave suddenly for England. And now it seems you have made a liar out of me.”
“Well, invite him for dinner, by all means,” Julien said. “Who else?”
“Lorraine and Becky have just arrived. They’re in the Sarah Bernhardt room, and have brought their obnoxious hound.”
“Excellent,” Julien said. “They will lighten our mood considerably. Please tell them I will see them before dinner, won’t you?” He excused himself to make a few phone calls, and left instructions for Kieran to claim any unoccupied room to which he took a fancy.
When at home, Julien observed cocktail hour religiously. It was his special time to meet with any friends or family who happened to be staying with him. He kept a very lively household, and a variety of people came and went at all hours of the day or night.
Natalie wondered who Becky and Lorraine were, not to mention the “obnoxious hound.” Whenever she or her brother stayed at the house in the Faubourg, they were sure to meet new and interesting characters. As a patron of the arts, her uncle fancied himself a modern-day Gertrude Stein, though of the male variety, and it wasn’t unusual to have musicians, writers and artists occupying rooms in his home for weeks or even months at a time. Julien enjoyed the company and was never satisfied unless there were at least two or three guests in residence at all times.
When Angelique left to ready Kieran’s room, Natalie and her brother trudged up the stairs, grateful to have their own familiar sanctuaries kept at the ready for them.
“It’s good to be back, even under our present unhappy circumstances,” Calvin remarked as they climbed the main staircase. The walls were lined with an odd assortment of paintings. Now that he and his sister knew the truth about their heritage, Calvin realized that his favorite painting seemed to take on a different meaning. He wasn’t sure who the artist was, and Julien couldn’t remember either. It was a picture of a dark forest with a stag peering through the trees. A pretty, dark-eyed girl with bare shoulders, wearing layer upon layer of emerald and gold shawls, spun around in front of a fire. Her dark hair reached to her waist and swirled about her as she danced, heedless of anything around her. Calvin loved the painting and felt happy just looking at it.
Natalie’s favorite depicted an ancient temple covered with twisting vines, enormous white flowers drooping heavily from them. Inside the arched entrance a man and woman stood together in a close embrace, at their feet a long, green snake. Natalie had always admired the painting and felt it symbolized love and spirituality, as well as nature. In light of their remarkable discovery of the manuscript, she now wondered if the snake symbolized Satan, and the couple were Adam and Eve. She parted with her brother and went to her room at the opposite end of the gallery.
Calvin entered his room and looked around; it was just as he’d left it a few months before. As Julien had no children of his own, he spoiled his niece and nephew almost to a fault. Not only did he keep rooms for them, but he also helped Richard pay for their education, sent them lavish gifts and took them on exotic vacations. When they protested his unabashed generosity, as they often did, Julien waved at them dismissively, invariably saying, “What good is having wealth if you can’t share it with the ones you love?”
At the moment, Calvin was glad of his uncle’s largesse. He dropped his duffel bag on the bed and lit the fire in the hearth. He thought about sending an email to his office at National Geographic, but decided against it. The men who tracked them down at Mckella’s house might be able to find him here if he logged into his email account. He decided not to risk it and scowled darkly at his computer, thinking it seemed to be nothing more than a tracking device, so little use was it to him now. He flung himself onto the bed,