Page 27 of The Duke of Cups (The Highwaymen #3)
“Pardon me,” said Seraphine. “The attachment to Dunrose is what I mean. It’s one of those exciting little dalliances that are exciting precisely because they’re dangerous and someone has told you not to engage in them.
Indeed, sometimes it seems as if, when you know very well that a dalliance is the worst sort of idea, that it is extremely unintelligent, that it begins to take on a certain allure, something irresistible. Is it like that?”
Hyacinth nodded miserably. She hadn’t realized it was common. She wasn’t sure if that made it seem better, that it was just some human weakness, or if it made it worse, because she had fancied her infatuation with Dunrose to be something special and unique. Now, she felt only dull and stupid .
“I suppose that Champeraigne has forbidden you from taking up with him?”
“Well… I know he doesn’t wish me to be with him.”
“So, that makes you all the more interested, of course,” said Seraphine. “Believe me, I know about that. You know, he used to be my husband’s closest friend. I was never sure if I went after him so intently because of him or because I knew it would hurt Fateux, and nothing seemed to hurt him.”
“Champeraigne was your husband’s closest friend?” said Hyacinth. “Isn’t he still?”
“Well, yes, but no,” said Seraphine. “Sometimes I take a perverse pride in being the wedge driven between them, and that is appalling, isn’t it?
Then, I think, ‘No, it must not be that way. I could not enjoy it precisely because it is so awful. I must really love him.’ I am quite good at convincing myself of that.
Even now, I am certain it is love, not impishness.
However, no one who knows me would discount that aspect of my nature. ”
Hyacinth didn’t know what to say in response. She should reassure Seraphine that she was in love, should she not?
Seraphine sighed. “Don’t listen to me. I well know that other people are horrified at hearing a person admit such things.
I don’t think people are meant to see themselves the way I see myself.
It only makes me unhappy, being so aware of the worst aspects of myself, I assure you. Let’s go back to Dunrose.”
“No,” said Hyacinth, who wasn’t entirely sure why, but felt that she needed to probe this rift between Fateux and Champeraigne. “How did it happen? When did you and Champeraigne become entangled?”
Seraphine considered. “It was a long time ago.”
“Before the Revolution?”
“No, no, after,” said Seraphine. “But everything was awful, then, you know. Fateux sent me on before him, with Champeraigne, you see. He stayed behind to go seek out some beloved courtesan of his. She had one of his bastards and another on the way. I was young and stupid and angry about that. At that time, it seemed that having his child made her worth more to him than me. I think what I truly wished was to matter to my husband, but I acted against that wish for some perverse reason. It was as if I wanted to take control of it, I suppose. I wished, if I could not earn his love, to destroy it. If I made it so that he would not ever love me, then I was in control of it, you see? So, I knew that he had sent me with Champeraigne because he trusted him implicitly with his wife, and I knew…” She shook her head. “This doesn’t matter.”
“What happened to the courtesan?”
“She’s still in France, of course. It made sense for her to attach herself to a powerful, rich man when he was powerful and rich, but once he had nothing, well, why would she align herself with him? She was better off there, on her own.”
“Oh,” said Hyacinth. “And then, Fateux came to England to find his wife in his closest friend’s bed.”
“I broke him,” said Seraphine with a little shrug.
“I suppose I broke all of us.” She shook her head.
“No, no, Champeraigne was already quite gone. I told you, he wishes to die. He has been on a course of headlong self-destruction for some time. He was easily convinced to betray his closest friendship, because he already hated himself and didn’t think he had the capacity to do anything other than evil, I suppose.
We are quite a trio, the three of us. Associating with us can’t be good for you, mon chaton .
You’d do better to…” Seraphine groaned. “Why have you married him? Why him of all people? You knew I wouldn’t like it, and you did it anyway. ”
“I…” Hyacinth shook her head, unable to explain.
They were interrupted at that point by the servants coming in with the tea service. Then, after the servants left, Seraphine prepared the tea and they each selected a few biscuits.
The subject had been closed, or at least, Hyacinth wished it closed .
She did not want to admit that she must have been driven by something perverse as well.
She was as in love with Dunrose as Seraphine had been with her husband.
She had wished to take control of it, though, in much the same way.
Marrying Champeraigne was the worst thing she could do, but it made her feel powerful, as if she had something to wield against Dunrose.
It was awful, but she could see it all now.
And what a mess it was.
A fine mess.
“About Dunrose,” said Seraphine. “You’d do well to resist that siren call, of course, mon chaton .
But it is quite a difficult thing to resist, in the end.
I know people like to tell themselves—well, maybe they even believe—that they wish to be happy.
But I don’t know if it’s true.” She furrowed her brow.
“No, maybe we do wish it. It is only that we seem to behave in ways that will guarantee our own misery, over and over again, and we cannot seem to stop ourselves from that.”
The couldn’t be true. Hyacinth wouldn’t believe that.
“At any rate, if you cannot resist, you can be well assured that these things tend to end, one way or the other, and usually they end badly. If you throw yourself into it, it will blow up in your face like cannon fire. So, run from it or into it, it will make little difference in the end.”
And on that fatalistic note, they turned the conversation to other topics. They discussed gloves and the colors of evening dresses and whether or not they liked sleeves to be a bit puffed or only straight.