and her son and daughter were both grown with families of their own.
Her husband, however, had died; leaving her a widow. And when she’d first shown up at Victory’s End, crying poverty, Claude had wondered why she hadn’t been asked to move in with one of her children. But since becoming reacquainted with her over time, he had to assume they wanted nothing to do with her; he certainly didn’t.
“They are friends of Hélène,” Claude answered.
“What friends ?” Manette asked.
“I do not have all the answers, Manny,” Claude explained. “You will have to ask Hélène.”
Manette bristled.
“Do not call me that! You know I cannot tolerate it,” Manette snapped.
“But it is such a cute name,” Claude smirked, well aware that he was getting under her skin.
“Don’t use it,” Manette demanded.
“Oh lighten up, Manny ,” Claude chuckled.
“You insufferable cad,” she spat.
Claude laughed.
The two had never had been close, even when they were young. In fact, she had almost turned down Marceau’s invitation to move into the castle due to Claude’s presence. But she needed to be there; her objective could not be achieved otherwise. Even so, she did not trust Claude and was sure he felt the same about her. Perhaps it was time to accelerate her plans.
Manette moved to stare out of the window. Claude’s eyes were filled with hatred as he pierced his sister’s stiff back. Hélène entered the room just at the conclusion of their sparring and she’d heard Manette’s name-calling.
Hélène knew there was no love lost between the siblings. And she knew this would only make things even more difficult in the near future. They would not be happy to hear that she and Marceau had found their grandson. In fact, they would be incensed.
“So be it,” Hélène thought. “The time has come. The future of Fin de la Victoire would soon be passed into the rightful hands.”
“What is going on?” Hélène asked.
“The usual,” Manette muttered from the window. She did not bother to turn around.
Hélène looked at Claude who only smiled and shrugged nonchalantly.
“She’s touchy, as usual,” he smirked.
Manette swung around to face Claude.
“I am not… touchy! I was merely trying to be civil with you. But you could not—”
“Enough!” Hélène cut her off. “I will hear no more bickering between you. It is senseless and non-productive. I have important news which I must impart to you.”
“Is it Marceau? Is he worse?” Claude asked, almost sounding hopeful.
“He is the same,” Hélène said.
She saw Claude’s animated face fall and felt disgust. How she hated that man.
“I hear you have guests. Who are they?” Manette asked.
“They are whom I wish to speak about,” Hélène began. “As you know, many years ago Marceau had an enormous dispute with his son, René. As a result, René left his home and hasn’t been heard from since.”
“This is all ancient news, Hélène,” Claude said in boredom.
“Shut up, Claude, and listen,” Manette snarled.
“We learned that René and his wife, Chantal, were killed in an automobile accident several years ago,” Hélène continued. “But we could not find their son.”
“René had a son?” Manette asked in surprise.
“Yes. We have since located him and he is now here. His name is Greyson Merrick,” Hélène said evenly.
“Merrick? He does not carry our name. How do you know that he is René’s son? He could be an imposter,” Claude stated.
“He is no imposter,” Hélène stated stoutly. “René changed his last name when he moved to America. Doing so made our job much more difficult in trying to locate him. But Marceau and I have done our homework well. He is René’s son and he is here to claim his inheritance. He will sign the documents in two days.”
Hélène was actually not sure of the last part but she wanted to see
Her husband, however, had died; leaving her a widow. And when she’d first shown up at Victory’s End, crying poverty, Claude had wondered why she hadn’t been asked to move in with one of her children. But since becoming reacquainted with her over time, he had to assume they wanted nothing to do with her; he certainly didn’t.
“They are friends of Hélène,” Claude answered.
“What friends ?” Manette asked.
“I do not have all the answers, Manny,” Claude explained. “You will have to ask Hélène.”
Manette bristled.
“Do not call me that! You know I cannot tolerate it,” Manette snapped.
“But it is such a cute name,” Claude smirked, well aware that he was getting under her skin.
“Don’t use it,” Manette demanded.
“Oh lighten up, Manny ,” Claude chuckled.
“You insufferable cad,” she spat.
Claude laughed.
The two had never had been close, even when they were young. In fact, she had almost turned down Marceau’s invitation to move into the castle due to Claude’s presence. But she needed to be there; her objective could not be achieved otherwise. Even so, she did not trust Claude and was sure he felt the same about her. Perhaps it was time to accelerate her plans.
Manette moved to stare out of the window. Claude’s eyes were filled with hatred as he pierced his sister’s stiff back. Hélène entered the room just at the conclusion of their sparring and she’d heard Manette’s name-calling.
Hélène knew there was no love lost between the siblings. And she knew this would only make things even more difficult in the near future. They would not be happy to hear that she and Marceau had found their grandson. In fact, they would be incensed.
“So be it,” Hélène thought. “The time has come. The future of Fin de la Victoire would soon be passed into the rightful hands.”
“What is going on?” Hélène asked.
“The usual,” Manette muttered from the window. She did not bother to turn around.
Hélène looked at Claude who only smiled and shrugged nonchalantly.
“She’s touchy, as usual,” he smirked.
Manette swung around to face Claude.
“I am not… touchy! I was merely trying to be civil with you. But you could not—”
“Enough!” Hélène cut her off. “I will hear no more bickering between you. It is senseless and non-productive. I have important news which I must impart to you.”
“Is it Marceau? Is he worse?” Claude asked, almost sounding hopeful.
“He is the same,” Hélène said.
She saw Claude’s animated face fall and felt disgust. How she hated that man.
“I hear you have guests. Who are they?” Manette asked.
“They are whom I wish to speak about,” Hélène began. “As you know, many years ago Marceau had an enormous dispute with his son, René. As a result, René left his home and hasn’t been heard from since.”
“This is all ancient news, Hélène,” Claude said in boredom.
“Shut up, Claude, and listen,” Manette snarled.
“We learned that René and his wife, Chantal, were killed in an automobile accident several years ago,” Hélène continued. “But we could not find their son.”
“René had a son?” Manette asked in surprise.
“Yes. We have since located him and he is now here. His name is Greyson Merrick,” Hélène said evenly.
“Merrick? He does not carry our name. How do you know that he is René’s son? He could be an imposter,” Claude stated.
“He is no imposter,” Hélène stated stoutly. “René changed his last name when he moved to America. Doing so made our job much more difficult in trying to locate him. But Marceau and I have done our homework well. He is René’s son and he is here to claim his inheritance. He will sign the documents in two days.”
Hélène was actually not sure of the last part but she wanted to see
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