CHAPTER 156: THE DISINHERITANCE: I

When Monsieur and Madame de Villefort returned home, they discovered the Count of Monte Cristo waiting in their drawing room. He’d arrived during their absence and had been patient enough to stay.

Madame de Villefort, still shaken from recent events, immediately excused herself and retreated to her bedroom. Her husband, the prosecutor, felt more composed and headed straight to greet their guest. Though Villefort thought he’d successfully masked his inner turmoil, a dark cloud still hung over his expression, something the perpetually smiling count noticed immediately.

"My word!" Monte Cristo said after exchanging pleasantries. "What’s troubling you, Monsieur de Villefort? Did I arrive while you were preparing charges for a murder case?"

Villefort attempted a smile. "No, Count. I’m the only victim here. I’ve lost my case, thanks to bad luck, stubbornness, and sheer foolishness, and the ruling went against me."

"What happened?" Monte Cristo asked with carefully crafted concern. "Have you suffered some terrible misfortune?"

"Oh, nothing really," Villefort said with a bitter twist of his lips. "Just a financial loss. Nothing worth mentioning, I assure you."

"True," the count agreed. "With a fortune like yours, and your philosophical nature, losing money shouldn’t matter much."

"It’s not the money itself that bothers me," Villefort said, though his next words contradicted this. "Though nine hundred thousand francs is certainly worth regretting. What really angers me is this fate, this chance, whatever you want to call it, that’s destroyed my hopes and my fortune. It could ruin my child’s future too. And all because of an old man who’s lost his mind to senility."

"What did you say?" The count’s eyebrows rose. "Nine hundred thousand francs? That would trouble even a philosopher. And who caused this disaster?"

"My father, as I mentioned."

"Monsieur Noirtier? But I thought you told me he was completely paralyzed? That his faculties were destroyed?"

"His body is useless, he can’t move or speak. But his mind? Sharp as ever. He thinks, acts, and exercises his will perfectly well. I left him five minutes ago. Right now he’s dictating his will to two notaries."

"But how can he dictate if he can’t speak?"

"He’s done something better, he’s made himself understood."

"How is that even possible?"

"Through his eyes. They’re still full of life and, as you can see from my situation, possess the power to inflict serious damage."

"Darling," Madame de Villefort said, entering the room at that moment, "perhaps you’re exaggerating the problem."

"Good morning, madame," the count said with a bow.

Madame de Villefort acknowledged him with one of her most gracious smiles. "What has Monsieur de Villefort been telling you?" Monte Cristo asked. "What incomprehensible misfortune-"

"’Incomprehensible’ isn’t the word," the prosecutor interrupted, shrugging. "It’s an old man’s whim."

"And there’s no way to make him change his mind?"

"Yes," Madame de Villefort said. "It’s entirely within my husband’s power to alter the will, which currently works against Valentine, back in her favor."

The count, realizing the couple was speaking in riddles, pretended to lose interest in the conversation. He appeared absorbed in watching young Edward, who was mischievously pouring ink into a bird’s water glass.

"Darling," Villefort said to his wife, "you know I’ve never played the patriarch in our family. I’ve never acted like my nod could decide the fate of the universe. But my will must be respected in my own household. I won’t let an old man’s foolishness and a child’s whims overturn a plan I’ve been building for years. Baron d’Epinay was my friend, as you know, and an alliance with his son is the most suitable arrangement possible."

"Do you think," Madame de Villefort said, "that Valentine is conspiring with him? She’s always opposed this marriage. I wouldn’t be surprised if everything we’ve just witnessed is part of a scheme they planned together."

"Madame," Villefort said, "believe me, a fortune of nine hundred thousand francs isn’t so easily abandoned."

"Nevertheless, she could decide to renounce worldly life, sir. It was only a year ago that she proposed entering a convent."

"Never mind," Villefort replied. "This marriage will happen."

"Despite your father’s opposition?" Madame de Villefort said, selecting a new angle of attack. "That’s serious."

Monte Cristo, pretending not to listen, heard every word.

"Madame," Villefort replied, "I’ve always held my father in high respect. The natural bond of relationship combined with recognition of his moral superiority made this respect even deeper. The title of father is sacred in two ways, he should be honored as the source of our existence and as a master we should obey. But under these circumstances, I’m justified in doubting the wisdom of an old man who, because he hated the father, takes his anger out on the son. It would be ridiculous for me to let such whims control my decisions. I’ll continue showing the same respect to Monsieur Noirtier. I’ll endure the financial loss he’s inflicted without complaint. But I’ll stand firm in my determination. The world will see who’s right. I will marry my daughter to Baron Franz d’Epinay because I believe it’s a proper and suitable match for her. In short, because I choose to give my daughter’s hand to whomever I please."

"What?" the count said, whose approval Villefort had been seeking throughout this speech. "Are you saying Monsieur Noirtier is disinheriting Mademoiselle de Villefort because she’s marrying Monsieur Franz d’Epinay?"

"Yes, sir. That’s the reason," Villefort said, shrugging.

"The apparent reason, at least," Madame de Villefort added.

"The real reason, madame, I assure you. I know my father."

"But I want to understand why Monsieur d’Epinay has displeased your father more than anyone else?"

"I believe I know Monsieur Franz d’Epinay," the count said. "Isn’t he the son of General de Quesnel, who was granted the title Baron d’Epinay by the former king?"

"The same," Villefort confirmed.

"Well, he’s a charming young man, in my opinion."

"He is, which makes me think this is just Monsieur Noirtier’s excuse to prevent his granddaughter from marrying. Old men are always so selfish with their affection," Madame de Villefort said.

"But," Monte Cristo said, "don’t you know the cause of this hatred?"

"Ah, who can say?"

"Perhaps it’s some political disagreement?"

"My father and Baron d’Epinay lived during turbulent times that I only witnessed the end of," Villefort said.

"Wasn’t your father a supporter of Napoleon?" Monte Cristo asked. "I think you mentioned something like that."

"My father was more of a radical revolutionary than anything else," Villefort said, his emotions carrying him beyond caution. "The senatorial robes Napoleon gave him only disguised the old man without changing him at all. When my father conspired, it wasn’t for the emperor, it was against the royal family. Monsieur Noirtier had this peculiarity: he never pursued impossible utopian dreams. He fought for achievable goals, and he applied extreme revolutionary methods to achieve them, methods that never shrank from any means deemed necessary to bring about the desired result."

"Well," Monte Cristo said, "it’s just as I thought. Politics brought Noirtier and Monsieur d’Epinay into conflict. Although General d’Epinay served under Napoleon, didn’t he still hold royalist sympathies? And wasn’t he the person who was assassinated one evening after leaving a meeting of Napoleon’s supporters, a meeting he’d been invited to under the assumption he favored the emperor’s cause?"

Villefort looked at the count with something close to terror.

"Am I mistaken?" Monte Cristo asked.

"No, sir. The facts are exactly as you stated," Madame de Villefort said. "And it was to prevent the revival of old feuds that Monsieur de Villefort conceived the idea of uniting through marriage the children of these bitter enemies."

"What a noble and charitable thought," Monte Cristo said. "The whole world should applaud it. How magnificent it would be to see Mademoiselle Noirtier de Villefort become Madame Franz d’Epinay."

Villefort shuddered and studied Monte Cristo as if trying to read the true feelings behind his words. But the count completely baffled the prosecutor, his unchanging smile revealing nothing.

"Although," Villefort said, "it will be serious for Valentine to lose her grandfather’s fortune, I don’t think Monsieur d’Epinay will be frightened by this financial loss. He’ll perhaps respect me more than the money itself, seeing that I sacrifice everything to keep my word to him. Besides, he knows Valentine is wealthy through her mother, and she’ll likely inherit the fortune of Monsieur and Madame de Saint-Méran, her maternal grandparents, who both love her dearly."

"And who are just as worthy of love and care as Monsieur Noirtier," Madame de Villefort said. "Besides, they’re coming to the capital in about a month, and after the insult Valentine has received, she needn’t feel obligated to continue burying herself alive, shut up with Monsieur Noirtier."

The count listened with satisfaction to this tale of wounded pride and frustrated ambition.