Aimé was in a buoyant mood. Everything had gone better than expected, there was a letter being written even now about a gift of property to the family and everything else that had transpired between them had been pleasant.
He opened the door, and his good mood evaporated almost immediately, seeing Augustin sitting there in his bedroom, in his private, personal space. “What are you doing here?” He asked, although he tried not to think of the worst possible scenario. His brother could hardly know where he had been and what he’d done. He’d probably just wanted to see him. Aimé crossed to the room and kissed his brother on the cheek in greeting. “I’m sorry, that was rude of me. How long have you been waiting? Where we supposed to do something today? I didn’t mean to forget.”