“Fayette explained the sexual practices that Elie preferred in the clubs,” Brielle settled on. Her voice dropped to a whisper.
Stefano held up his hand. “I’m sorry, but you need to be specific. Your sister had to have been very specific with you in order for you to want to break your given word.”
The color deepened. She ducked her head. “Yes. She said he was into exhibitionism, bondage and pain, all while sharing his women. Sometimes he wanted more than one woman at the same time or to have his partner service several men at the same time.”
Stefano’s gaze flicked to Elie’s face, but Elie made absolutely certain to stay expressionless. He could see why his woman wouldn’t want anything to do with him.
“My parents spent a great deal of money and time on my sister’s education in order to make certain she had every advantage and she would be the perfect wife for an Archambault. She had tutors in academics as well as for her physical capabilities.”
Again, Stefano held up his hand. “Were you given these same opportunities?”
Brielle’s color deepened even more. “You see my size. I’m nowhere near my sister’s abilities when it comes to riding the shadows. I have to fight my weight all the time. She has a much faster metabolism and she’s taller by quite a few inches.”
This time, she staunchly avoided Elie’s gaze. “I’m younger than Fayette by seven years. My parents weren’t expecting me to come along. I was a bit of a disappointment to them. Academically, I exceeded expectations, but I fell far short in terms of looks, riding shadows and just about every other way. My parents didn’t have the money to waste and I understood that.”
There was no bitterness in her voice at all. She had accepted everything her parents and sister told her. It had most likely been told to her from the time she was a young child, how important Fayette was, and how unimportant she was.
“Fayette was excited that Elie was paying her so much attention at the clubs. They weren’t dating formally. He didn’t come to the house and pick her up, but he met her at the various clubs and had sex with her often. She was certain a marriage proposal was going to happen very soon. She didn’t tell our father, only that she’d bumped into Elie a few times and he seemed to be interested. Our mother had passed away two years prior, but Father was quite excited, certain Elie would be enamored.”
Brielle’s lip trembled for a moment and she pressed her fingers to it briefly before she once again rested both hands in her lap. “You can imagine their shock and horror when Jean-Claude Archambault sent for me, making his intentions clear—that he wanted Elie to marry me, not Fayette. Fayette wasn’t mentioned at all. My father and Fayette accused me of sneaking out and meeting Elie behind their backs. They were certain I had done something to call attention to myself. In the end, I had to go to the meeting, because one doesn’t say no to a meeting with Jean-Claude Archambault.”
Elie knew that was the truth. Not even he had dared to turn down the meeting when Jean-Claude had called him to come to his home, and he’d been furious. He’d wanted to tell the head of the family to go fuck himself, but instead, when he heard whom they were insisting he marry, he knew they had invaded his privacy. He knew they had been spying on him and caught him having fantasies he should never have been having of a too-young girl. He’d struck out like the arrogant ass he’d been at that age, saying disgusting things against the girl, trying to prove to himself—and to Jean-Claude—that the family knew nothing about him and his fantasies.
“I intended to point out to Jean-Claude that he had the wrong Couture sister. That Fayette was the perfect wife for Elie and that they already knew one another intimately, so it would be impossible for me to consider marriage to him. Elie made it abundantly clear he had no desire to marry me.”
Stefano held up his hand. Knots suddenly formed in Elie’s gut. The one person he respected above all others was Stefano. He knew what the next question was going to be and he was very ashamed of what he’d said.
“Do you remember Elie’s reasons for not wanting to marry you?”
Brielle swallowed almost convulsively. She nodded. “It’s been difficult to forget them, although I have to admit, he probably did me a service. First, Jean-Claude told him I was eighteen and a virgin, but had good genes, the best for producing riders. I was a rider but couldn’t cut it. Elie sounded quite furious when he told Jean-Claude that he wasn’t about to be saddled with a little child that didn’t know the first thing about sex and would faint at the things he would demand of me.”