Promo: The Château de Verzat Series by Debra Borchert
Today, I'm delighted to welcome author Debra Borchert to Ruins & Reading, with an excerpt from Her Own Legacy (Book 1), and a mouth-watering recipe from her book, Soups of Château de Verzat, A Culinary Tribute to the French Revolution, 2023. Intrigued? Read on!
Like me, Debra has a soft spot for French history, and her Château de Verzat series sounds just like my kinds of reads. Look out for my reviews, once I've had a chance to read the two existing titles in the series. A third title will be released in the summer.
The Château de Verzat series is currently on blog tour with The Coffee Pot Book Club. Discover other intriguing excerpts HERE!
Her Own Legacy, Paris, June 1789
Henri discovers Pierre is Geneviève
The floor shook with stampeding, cussing students heading for the door. I waited for Pierre and grinned. He tried to cover his smile but lost the battle. We clapped each other on the back and headed outdoors. Sunlight brightened the gray stone walls, but the wind was chilly.
Someday I’d thank LaGarde for the title of my next article. I needed to get some quotes from the common man, first. “Palais-Royal?” I asked Pierre.
He nodded.
“Fouquier!” LaGarde leaned against a column. Two noble students flanked him.
“Careful,” I whispered.
Pierre marched straight at him. “Yes?”
“The law states you must address me by my title.”
“Class dunce?” Pierre tilted his head.
My hands jittered. Pierre was half the brute’s size.
LaGarde withdrew his rapier from its jeweled scabbard and slowly brought the blade above his head. I reached under my waistcoat for my pistol. LaGarde brought the rapier forward, resting its tip at Pierre’s jabot. Pierre did not blink. I withdrew my pistol.
With one deliberate swipe, LaGarde sliced through Pierre’s waistcoat and tunic, which fell away, revealing two breasts bulging over the edges of a lace corset.
My mouth dropped open. A thin line of blood wandered like a silk thread, trickling down Pierre’s chest, detouring over a pale swell of flesh. My breeches grew tight. The wound did not seem deep. But—.
With one hand, Pierre calmly clutched the edges of the waistcoat. His—her face was calm.
LaGarde and his companions stood, jaws dropped, eyes bulging. He—she had fooled us all. What a charade. What nerve.
“You are a…” LaGarde blustered.
“Woman?” Pierre smiled. “Have you not seen one before?”
“Women have no right to enter Université.” LaGarde’s rapier vibrated. “Salope!”
Like I was in a tunnel, darkness fell around everything but the glinting rapier. He’d called her a whore. “If this woman passed the exams to enter, she deserves the right to attend—the same as any man.” My thumb pulsed on the pistol’s hammer as I brought it up.
“This is a fight for swords, not guns. Where’s yours?” LaGarde spat.
“Even peasants know only nobles may wear them.” Pierre spat at LaGarde’s feet.
LaGarde’s face reddened. “Why don’t you go back to the squalor of Saint-Antoine, Detré?”
Pierre—whatever her real name was—stood straight and tall. “As you’ve proven, LaGarde, being a noble does not mean one is a gentleman.”
“You going to allow a salope to fight your battles, Detré?” The brute moved to the en garde position.
“Regardless of whether or not I’m entitled to carry a sword, I’ve no need of such encumbrances.” I aimed the pistol at his face. “I’m an expert shot. You’ll be dead before your body hits the ground.”
He pointed his rapier at me. “I shall deliver your lettre de cachet myself.”
“And I shall kill you before your next breath. Sheathe your sword.”
“LaGarde, do you know my father’s name? It may assist you at the Châtelet.” Pierre gave him a coy smile. “My father is prosecutor there.”
I broke into a sweat. The torture chambers deep in the bowels of that prison were something I never wanted to see.
Pierre crossed his arms over his…her…breasts. “He has been influential, not only in the courts, but also with tortures and executions.”
LaGarde’s rapier quivered.
Pierre walked to within a foot of him. “Does the name Antoine Quentin Fouquier de Tinville sound familiar?”
Relief at not being in LaGarde’s shoes washed over me like warm water. The two noble students standing behind LaGarde ran.
LaGarde’s jaw slackened. “If your father knows you attend Université, why do you dress as a man?”
“To protect myself from idiots like you.” She could have the dolt arrested, put in a dungeon, tortured, and left to rot, if he survived the torture. “I don’t think my father will like the new cut of my waistcoat.”
“Excuse me, Mademoiselle, I did not know.” LaGarde gawped like a landed fish.
“Unless you’d like to receive a lettre de cachet yourself, I suggest you take Monsieur Detré’s advice and sheathe your weapon.”
He did so and stood at attention, as if the prosecutor stood before him.
“Monsieur Detré, would you kindly walk me to my father’s office?”
On the rare occasions Henri’s maman had chicken, she would have used the carcass to create a hearty broth. She shows Henri her love with food in this excerpt from Her Own Legacy, Chapter 8.
Maman ladled some liquid into a wooden bowl. “Have some soup.”
“I have to deliver the laundry.”
“First, eat.”
I sat, breathing in the aroma of garlic, onions, chicken. “Maman, can you give me some of the rosemary soap you make?”
Her smile lit up the room like a flaming torch. “I’ll give you some for your tutor, also.”
I’d bring her some meat and bread. I’d buy her a lace-trimmed handkerchief. I’d show her she was the only maman I ever wanted and would ever need. I’d convince her she’d never lose me. I’d try to tell her I loved her.
Serves 6–8
Ingredients:
|
2 boneless chicken breasts |
1 medium onion, peeled, chopped |
|
4 boneless chicken thighs |
1 ½–2 quarts chicken or vegetable broth |
|
2 quarts water |
dash cayenne pepper (optional) |
|
3 sprigs rosemary |
sea salt |
|
2 cloves of garlic, peeled, and chopped |
freshly ground pepper |
|
extra virgin olive oil |
1 cup broccoli florets |
|
2 carrots, peeled and sliced |
chopped fresh parsley |
|
2 celery stalks, thinly sliced |
lemon wedges |
Process:
1. Place chicken, rosemary, and garlic in heavy-bottomed pot and cover with water.
2. Heat on low and allow to simmer, uncovered, until the chicken is tender, about 45 minutes.
3. Remove chicken pieces and allow to cool. Discard rosemary and garlic.
4. OPTIONAL: You can continue to simmer the broth until it is reduced by half and use it as part of the chicken soup, but you’ll need to cool and skim it before adding it to the soup. I usually allow it to simmer, cool, skim, and then freeze it for future use.
5. Heat a heavy-bottomed pot on medium heat and coat the bottom with olive oil.
6. Sauté the carrots, celery, and onion in that order, cooking each for 2–3 minutes before adding the next vegetable.
7. Add chicken pieces. Pour in the broth and simmer for 30–45 minutes.
8. Add dash of cayenne if using. (A dash of cayenne boosts flavor without salt.)
9. Season to taste.
10. Add the broccoli 5 minutes before serving so it remains bright green.*Serve with lemon wedges.
Notes:
1. *When serving this in a slow cooker, I replace the broccoli with green beans which retain their color longer than the broccoli.
2. This soup freezes well but add the broccoli or green beans just before serving.
Thank you so very much for the detailed post. I hope you like the soup! Debra
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