The baron led the count through room after room of his mansion, each more ostentatiously decorated than the last. Heavy gold fixtures, expensive artwork and crystal chandeliers. Finally, they reached Mada Danglars’ private sitting room, and it was like stepping into a different world entirely.
This octagonal room was elegant in a way the rest of the house wasn’t. Soft pink satin walls covered with delicate white muslin. Antique chairs that actually had character. Painted scenes of shepherds and shepherdesses in an old romantic style decorated the doors, with beautiful pastel dallions completing the aesthetic. It was the only room in the entire mansion that showed any real taste.
The truth was, this room had been completely overlooked when the baron and his trendy architect had renovated the place. They’d hired the most expensive, fashionable decorator money could buy, but sohow missed this one space. Mada Danglars and her friend Lucien Debray had designed it themselves. The baron, who preferred the gaudy style popular decades ago during a particular historical period, absolutely hated his wife’s simple, elegant taste. He wasn’t even allowed in here unless he was bringing soone she actually wanted to see, and even then, he felt more like a butler than the master of the house. His wife’s welco was warm or icy depending entirely on whether she liked his guest.
Mada Danglars, still beautiful despite being past her pri, sat at an elaborate piano, while Lucien Debray stood nearby, flipping through a photo album. Before the count arrived, Lucien had filled her in on everything he knew about this mysterious man. Everyone rembered Monte Cristo from that breakfast party at Albert de Morcerf’s place. Even Debray, who prided himself on staying cool and detached, couldn’t shake the powerful impression the count had made. So his description to the baroness was colored by his own fascination.
Already intrigued by the wild stories De Morcerf had told about the count, Mada Danglars eagerly soaked up every additional detail from Debray. The casual pose at the piano and album was just for show, a little performance to seem unbothered by the visit.
When they entered, Mada Danglars graced her husband with an unusually warm smile. The count received a formal but graceful courtesy, while Lucien and the count exchanged distant nods, and Lucien gave Danglars a casual wave.
"Baroness," Danglars announced, "allow to present the Count of Monte Cristo, who cos highly recomnded by my business contacts in Ro. Here’s sothing that will interest every lady in the city: he’s co to live here for a year, during which ti he plans to spend six million." He paused for effect. "That ans endless balls, dinners, and parties. I trust the count will rember us in his entertainnts, just as we’ll certainly rember him in ours."
Despite the crude flattery, Mada Danglars couldn’t help staring with interest at a man who could blow through six million in twelve months and had chosen their city for his extravagant spending spree.
"When did you arrive?" she asked.
"Yesterday morning, mada."
"Coming from so exotic corner of the world, I assu? That seems to be your habit."
"Not this ti, mada. I’ve only co from Spain."
"You’ve picked the worst possible ti for your first visit. The city is absolutely dead in sumr. All the parties are over, the opera companies have left for other cities, the theaters are closed. The only entertainnt left is diocre horse racing at a couple of tracks. Are you planning to enter any horses, count?"
"I’ll do whatever people do here, mada, if I’m lucky enough to find soone who can show the ropes."
"Are you interested in horses, count?"
"I’ve spent much of my life in the Middle East, mada, and as you probably know, people from that region value only two things, fine horses and beautiful won."
"Oh count," the baroness said with a sly smile, "it would have been more charming to put the ladies first."
"You see, mada, I was right when I said I need soone to teach proper manners here."
At that mont, Mada Danglars’ favorite maid entered the room. Approaching her mistress, she whispered sothing urgent. Mada Danglars went pale.
"I can’t believe it. That’s impossible."
"I assure you, mada," the maid replied, "it’s exactly as I said."
Turning sharply to her husband, Mada Danglars demanded, "Is this true?"
"Is what true?" Danglars asked, visibly nervous.
"What my maid just told ."
"What did she tell you?"
"That when my driver went to harness my horses, he discovered they’d been taken from the stables without his knowledge. I want to know what this ans."
"Please, mada, let explain-"
"Oh, I can’t wait to hear this explanation. These two gentlen can judge between us. But first, let explain the situation to them." She turned to the count and Debray. "Gentlen, among the ten horses in Baron Danglars’ stables, two belong exclusively to , a pair of the most gorgeous, spirited dappled gray horses in the entire city. You know them well, don’t you, Monsieur Debray? Well, I’d promised to lend my carriage to Mada de Villefort for a drive tomorrow. But when my driver went to get the grays this morning, they were gone. Simply gone. No doubt Monsieur Danglars has sacrificed them to make a few thousand in profit. What a despicable thing to do!"
"Mada," Danglars protested, "the horses weren’t safe for you. They were barely four years old, and I was terrified for your safety."
"Nonsense! You couldn’t have been worried, because you know perfectly well I’ve had the best driver in the city working for for a month. Or did you get rid of him too?"
"My dear, please don’t say any more about it. I promise to get you another pair that looks exactly the sa, only calr and safer."
The baroness gave her husband a look of withering contempt. Pretending not to notice, Danglars turned to Monte Cristo.
"Count, I really wish I’d t you sooner. You’re setting up a household, I assu?"
"Yes," the count replied.
"I would have loved to offer you those horses. I practically gave them away, but as I said, I was desperate to get rid of them. They were only suitable for a young man."
"Thank you for the kind thought," Monte Cristo said, "but this morning I bought an excellent pair of carriage horses at what I thought was a fair price. They’re right outside, actually. Co, Monsieur Debray, you’re an expert, let get your opinion."
As Debray walked toward the window, Danglars moved closer to his wife.
"I couldn’t tell you in front of the others," he whispered, "but I was offered an insane price for those horses this morning. So lunatic actually sent his steward to buy them at any cost. I made sixteen thousand on the deal. Don’t look so angry, I’ll give you four thousand to spend however you want, and Eugénie can have two thousand. See? Wasn’t I right to sell them?"
Mada Danglars looked at her husband with utter contempt.
"Good God!" Debray suddenly exclaid from the window.
"What?" the baroness asked.
"I can’t be mistaken, those are your horses! The exact animals we were just talking about, harnessed to the count’s carriage!"
"My dappled grays?" The baroness rushed to the window. "It really is them!"
Danglars looked absolutely stunned.
"How extraordinary," Monte Cristo said with perfectly feigned surprise.
"I don’t believe it," the banker muttered.
Mada Danglars whispered sothing to Debray, who approached the count. "The baroness would like to know what you paid her husband for the horses."
"I hardly know," the count replied. "My steward arranged it as a surprise for . It cost sowhere around thirty thousand, I believe."
Debray relayed this to the baroness. Poor Danglars looked so defeated that Monte Cristo almost seed to pity him.
"You see," the count said, "how ungrateful won can be. Your thoughtful gesture, ensuring the baroness’s safety by getting rid of dangerous horses, doesn’t seem to have impressed her at all. But that’s how it is, won often prefer what’s dangerous over what’s safe, just out of stubbornness. In my opinion, dear baron, the best approach is to let them have their way and do as they please. Then if anything goes wrong, they have only themselves to bla."
Reviews
All reviews (0)