In the fading light of the setting sun, Albert-de-Foix-Grailly adjusted his appearance at the entrance to the Chloé Club. Bathed in the golden twilight, the handsome and elegant young man looked like an ancient Greek sculpture.
Then, holding his walking stick with an air of utter contempt for the world, he walked past the saluting doorman and into the renowned high-society gathering place.
After the end of the Imperial era, a fashion for imitating the English had taken hold in French high society. The "club," a newfangled invention, had crossed the narrow English Channel to become the latest trend in France. And after the French government officially banned casinos, men of the upper class cherished these few remaining places of leisure even more.
The guests inside the club glanced at him as he entered, then turned back to their own affairs.
Beneath the mask of his frivolous expression, Albert carefully observed the people inside from the corner of his eye, his gaze sweeping over their faces.
Then, in a corner, he found his target—a young man of about twenty-six or twenty-seven, short, slightly overweight, and plain-looking, but impeccably dressed.
Louis, the Comte de Léaurand, eldest son of the Marquis de Léaurand and the legal heir to his title, was currently chatting with his friends while playing a game of whist.
After the collapse of the Napoleonic Empire and the return of the Bourbon dynasty to France with the help of foreign bayonets, the French had developed an almost subconscious fear of antagonizing Great Britain. This remained true even after the July Monarchy overthrew the senior Bourbon line. The France that had once fought a Hundred Years' War with England, that had once led the entire continent in an attempt to destroy England, that had once battled the English in Holland, in Spain, and in Belgium, no longer possessed the spirit to challenge Britain for supremacy.
British textiles, British ideas, and even British pastimes subsequently became popular in France—the card game of whist being one such example.
Albert feigned nonchalance as he slowly strolled toward that corner, greeting and joking with people he knew along the way.
"My friends, I once had a misstep and made a young lady a mother. What's worse, the poor, panicked girl was foolish enough to confess her mistake to her own mother. Oh, that poor mama came to me and asked what she should do... and do you know what I said?"
"What did you say?" someone nearby asked.
"But, Madame, I am neither a surgeon nor a midwife. What help could I possibly be?" Albert replied in a deliberately high-pitched, shrill voice.
His jest drew a roar of laughter. Under the cover of this laughter, he casually made his way to the Comte de Léaurand's side.
"But now," Albert continued in a lower voice to the people near him, "if that lady were to come to me again, I wouldn't mind giving that little unborn angel a few large pieces of toffee..."
While bantering with those around him, Albert secretly observed the Comte's card play.
He quickly reached a conclusion.
Crude skills, no strategy, plays his cards randomly. He seems like an easy one to handle.
Looks like my old friend's request should be easy enough to complete, he thought to himself.
Just then, as if he had been sitting for too long and needed to relieve himself, the Comte de Léaurand abruptly stood up and walked toward the lavatory.
Now's the time.
Albert discreetly shot a look at a fierce-looking young man nearby who was pretending to chat with someone else.
The young man understood immediately. He slowly moved his body, blocking the Comte de Léaurand's path.
As if his mind were still on the long card game, the Comte didn't notice someone was in his way, and the two, unsurprisingly, collided.
"Watch it, Monsieur!" the young man glared at the Comte, then gave him a sharp shove.
The Comte shook his head and continued straight to the lavatory.
Albert gave the young man a look of approval, then found himself a seat in a corner to watch the next act of the play unfold.
A short while later, the Comte emerged from the lavatory and headed back toward his original seat.
And then... he bumped into the same young man again.
"Monsieur, are you doing this on purpose?!" The young man appeared to be enraged, staring at the Comte with a ferocious glare.
"I am not! It is you who has blocked my path twice!" The Comte, seemingly provoked as well, retorted in kind.
"Are you suggesting this is my fault?"
"Is it not?" The Comte glared back at him, then muttered a few words under his breath and continued toward his seat.
"Monsieur, I believe you owe me an apology," the young man said, looking at the Comte with arrogance.
"An apology? No, it was your own fault," the Comte laughed disdainfully. "Besides, do you even know who I am?"
"Oh?" The young man shrugged indifferently. "And who might you be?"
"I am the Comte de Léaurand!" the Comte replied with an air of great importance. He then pulled his calling card from his pocket and handed it to the other man.
The young man took the card and glanced at it.
The Comte smiled, preparing to leave.
However, what the young man did next stunned him.
"It's filthy," the young man said coldly. "It seems you've kept it for too long. Bring me another one." And with that, he threw the calling card at his feet.
The people nearby seemed to have noticed something was wrong. They began watching from the corners of their eyes, whispering to one another.
The Comte's eyes widened.
This was a provocation. Yes, this was a deliberate provocation!
And in this situation, he had to issue a challenge for a duel. A young man, a young French man, could not tolerate such a public humiliation. It had to be washed away with blood. If he backed down now, his reputation would be ruined.
But... to risk everything over some scoundrel who had appeared out of nowhere... it was madness!
The Comte's mind was in a tangled mess. He wanted to open his mouth and challenge the bastard who had offended him, but he couldn't bring himself to say the words.
"Well? Monsieur, shouldn't you be fetching me another card?" the young man pressed, his voice growing louder.
More and more people were now looking in their direction.
Cold sweat appeared on the Comte's forehead. He looked toward his original seat, only to find that none of his card-playing friends would meet his gaze. They had also sensed trouble and didn't dare get involved.
"Monsieur..." The mockery in the young man's eyes deepened.
I have to go through with it!
The Comte steeled himself, preparing to issue the challenge.
"My friends, what are you two doing?" a soft voice suddenly interjected.
Instinctively, the Comte looked toward the source of the voice.
An impeccably dressed, handsome young man with a perfect smile was walking toward them. Under the light of the crystal chandelier, he seemed to shimmer with the aura of a savior.
After a moment's daze, he remembered who it was.
"Albert..." he greeted him, his voice trembling slightly.
Albert walked over, discreetly picked up the card from the floor, and put it in his own pocket.
"Louis, Léonce, forgive my impertinence, but I seemed to have noticed some unpleasantness between you..." He looked at the two of them with that same perfect smile. "What on earth happened?"
"We just accidentally bumped into each other twice..." the Comte answered quickly.
He knows this man! It seems he can get me out of this!
The Comte's heart began to steady.
"He bumped into me, but says it's my fault," the young man replied, his tone still grim.
"Oh dear, I thought it was something serious, but it's just a trivial matter like this!" Albert's tone was exceedingly light. "Is something like this really worth arguing over?"
"He must apologize to me!" the young man insisted.
"For the sake of our friendship, let's not fight over such a small thing. Wouldn't it be better for us all to enjoy ourselves together?" Albert clapped the young man on the shoulder, then looked at the Comte.
The young man's tense face slowly relaxed.
"Hmph. Fine. For your sake."
Albert took each of their hands. "Come, it's a rare chance for you to meet. Let's have a drink together!" He then smiled at the Comte. "This is my friend, Léonce. He used to serve in North Africa, and he's a damn good shot with a pistol! I even made plans with him to go hunting in the country when we get the chance!"
The Comte's face stiffened, and then he let out a heavy sigh of relief.
Saved.
The three found a place to sit, and Albert ordered several bottles of whiskey. After they had each had a few drinks, the young man left quickly, leaving Albert and the Comte to continue drinking.
They chatted as they drank.
Somehow, after the topic had shifted several times, the two found themselves talking about marriage.
"My friend, I hear you're getting married soon! And to the daughter of the Duke de Tréville's family, no less! I'm so envious of you. You must be getting a huge dowry this time... Come, drink up..."
The Comte, having had another glass, had lost track of how many he'd had. He just kept drinking, one after another, his tongue beginning to feel thick.
"My friend... I... I have... what is there to be envious of... I'm marrying a wife... but... but... she's not... not... not bringing a sou's worth of dowry..."
"Hmm?" Albert let out a sound of surprise, then questioned him in a tone that suggested, You're playing humble after getting such a good deal. "You're joking, aren't you...?"
"How could I... how could I possibly joke with you, my friend..." The Comte's eyes were vacant and hazy. "It's... it's a deal..."
"A deal?"
"My aunt... my aunt..."
"Your aunt?"
"My aunt died... She had no children... Her fortune was supposed to... supposed to be passed to me... but instead... she... she... she wrote a will, gave it all... all to my little sister... damn it... When that notary read out the will, my father... my mother... and... and me, I was practically... I was practically... going mad with rage!"
"Roughly how much was it?"
"Exactly how much... I... I don't know... but... but it must have been a lot..." Under the influence of alcohol, the Comte de Léaurand was now slurring his words completely, and Albert had to strain to understand him. "That aunt of mine, her... her husband... bought a huge amount of bonds before he passed away, and then... then there was the government indemnity payment... that was a huge sum too... all together... all together..."