“Your wife is an evil hag,” said Jean-Louis, keeping his
voice quiet, “who cares nothing for anyone but herself. Ondine is injured, has
been shot at several times over the last few weeks, kidnapped twice, and just
spent the night alone in a dark cellar. I hold you and your wife responsible
for this, as well as for Amandine’s conduct, especially her tendency to open her
thighs for everyone.”
His former mother-in-law shrieked, but this time she noticed
his expression—the one that had made his soldiers shake in their boots.
“I should call you out,” growled his former father-in-law.
“I would kill you. But I cannot face you in a duel. You have
no honor. You lied to Mademoiselle de Bonnefoi for years and tried to cheat her
out of her inheritance. And now you prefer she die. Do you realize that Ondine
nearly died too?”
“And now you think you will have her share of the manufactory,”
said Monsieur Ferand.
Jean-Louis thought about telling him they were already
married and he already had her share, but decided against it. “I offered for
her when all I knew about was her small dowry.”
Hélène’s uncle snorted.
“We only discovered the truth two days ago,” Jean-Louis
said. “Now I plan to use my control of her share to get rid of you and the
Ménines. We shall improve production and increase sales instead of trying to
rely on a tramp of a daughter to sell chairs at court. She was probably working
against you and the manufactory, just as she was a blight on my military
career.”
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