It was just after the Christmas holidays that Justine received a formal invitation at her Florence apartment. Addressed to "Madamoiselle Justine D'Enfer", it was gold embossed and sealed with a wax bearing a family crest. The crest was an ornate sunburst whose center featured flames and a castle with the motto: "Un Familie dans l'Enfer". Tearing it open, there was an invitation inside: "Count Frederick D'Enfer wishes to invite his niece, Madamoiselle Justine Arourae D'Enfer to the Castle D'Hiver near Geneva to pay her respects and to discuss her inheritance in the ancient D'Enfer family legacy. This invitation is only valid from three to five days after receipt, and may be only be redeemed in person." Justine furrowed her eyebrows. Her father Franklin D'Enfer had spoken of having four brothers: his next younger brother Francis was cousin Chelsea's father, youngest brother Ferdinand were in close contact with him, his next older brother Fabian had just died in an auto accident was closest to him; his much older brother Frederick was rarely mentioned and when he was mentioned it was dismissively. Had she seen a picture of this uncle? She couldn't remember. She sat heavily on the bed and pouted out the icy window; Chelsea was away at a home visit and calling her brother Justin back in the States about this felt odd since it involved her inheritance and presumably not his. Classes didn't start again for another week, and with Chelsea gone, Justine was getting bored mooching around Florence alone while Italian men leched at her. Making up her mind quickly, she made a phone call to book a flight to Geneva for early afternoon.
The flight to Switzerland was smooth, and her uncle's chauffeur was waiting for her at the airport. The Castle D'Hiver was a breathtaking sight perched high above Lake Constance. Justine's jaw dropped as her driver Rolf wound around the stunning lakeshore and countryside en route to the castle. Rolf was an attractive young man in his early 20's, slim, clean shaven and blond; he responded to her inquiries enough for her to learn that his mother had been in charge of Count Frederick's household for decades and he was also a life long servant to the family. Her flirtations w ith the young man went nowhere, however, and she arrived at the castle to be greeted by a plump middle aged woman, Frau Mittelmass, who was Rolf's mother. She was amazed at the opulence of the surroundings: it was a profusely ornate and richly appointed grand entryway with chandelier and staircase, projecting ancient power, riches and luxury. The family crest hung from the landing opposite the front door. A distinguished man in his mid seventies came down the sweeping grand staircase to meet her. He stood at its base and opened his arms with a broad gesture: "Ah, you must be Justine. What a fair young maiden you have turned out to be. Welcome to the D'Enfer family seat at last, welcome to Castle D'Hiver and the heart of the clan. I am your uncle Frederick, Comte D'Enfer."
Justine bobbed awkwardly, embraced him and kissed both his cheeks. He was the same height as her father, six feet, grey head and beard with hints of black still lingering. He wore a dinner jacket, silk ascot, dark slacks and velvet slippers. Returning her embrace, he squeezed her chastely and inquired: "Did you have a good trip?" She nodded in reply. "Excellent. I shall have Frau Mittelmass show you to your rooms so you can freshen up before dinner, which is served one hour from now. There are several excellent gowns in the closet you may wish to try on, perhaps one will be your costume for this evening. We will dine and afterward we will begin to get better acquainted. It is a pity that your father did not introduce you and your brother to me; you seem to be a fine young woman and it would have been wonderful to know you as a child growing up." He turned to the woman standing near. "Frau Mittelmass, show Madamoiselle D'Enfer to the Printemps suite so that she may rest and prepare for dinner. I shall meet you in the grand dining room then, in one hour." He swept from the room and Frau Mittelmass showed Justine up the stairs.
The suite of rooms that she was given included a balcony with a spectacular view of the lake. The huge walk in closet held scores of lovely gowns, and Justine looked them over curiously. "This isn't really my style, but Uncle Freddie may be giving me some money, so I'd better keep him happy," she said to herself. She settled on a blue and white flowered gown, removing her clothes and bra, retaining only her panties to put it on. Looking herself up and down in the mirror, she fiddled and adjusted it to display her soft shoulders and cleavage to best effect: if he was anything like her father, some well placed skin would curry his favor.
Dinner was in an elegant dining room. Her uncle, wearing an evening suit complete with silver cufflinks, rose to greet her from his chair by the blazing fireplace and escorted her to the long dining table to be seated at a chair at his right. The table was set for two with excellent porcelain and lit by a beautiful gold candelabra, whose bright yellow light competed with the warm red oozing from the fireplace. The Count spoke profusely about innocent little tidbits of family history during dinner as the courses progressed through soup, salad, entree and dessert. The fare tasted strange, as if each item was little past its prime and the accompanying wines were too sweet for her taste, but Justine nibbled what was put before her said nothing lest she antagonize her uncle. When the meal concluded, he rose from his chair and offered his elbow to escort her into the library for brandy and fine Cuban cigars. Once there, the Count seemed to loosen up and began telling stories of adventures he had in Africa, Asia and South America as they sat by the fire in overstuffed chairs smoking and drinking. There was a roaring fire that kept them warm against the chill air outside, and although she normally didn't drink brandy or smoke cigars, Justine savored the tastes and found herself relaxing slightly while waiting for her uncle to bring up the issue of her inheritance.
Finally, her uncle came around to his point. "As you may know, I have lived most of my life as a bachelor. I married briefly as a young man, but it didn't work out and ever since I have enjoyed the fairer sex without making a lifetime commitment. There are no children for me to claim as heirs of the family estate, so the title and the ancient legacy must pass to the children of my brothers. It is a shame that your father and I were not close; being twenty years apart in age and having two different mothers created a gulf that we have never been able to bridge. However, for the sake of the family I am willing for forget the decades of isolation and pass on the estate to his eldest child. "
"Wouldn't my father be the next in line for the family inheritance?"
"Of course he would since my dear brother Fabian is already gone. Since Franklin has made such a fool of himself and become an international criminal, forced to live in perpetual exile, I'm afraid that disqualifies him. The family cannot bear the shame of having the head of the family wanted in most of the civilized countries of the world, I cannot even tell him where I am or how my estate will be disposed. I have but a year to live: inoperable cancer, I'm afraid. Three more months and I will be an invalid; condemned to waste away unless I can get to the Netherlands and a more compassionate solution."
"What about my brother Justin?"
"Normally, he would have a claim, however he will not be of age in the next year and you will be. I am modern enough to pass the legacy on to the eldest, even though she has a younger brother, and I do not want the estate divided."
Justine took a deep breath and looked around. "I think I could get used to this. What will it take to prove to you my worthiness for this?"
The Count smiled broadly. "We'll think of something. You seem like a reasonable, intelligent young woman who understands that everything has a price. From what I've heard about you, I imagine that you would be willing to pay the price without any silly American Puritan inhibitions." The Count took another sip of his brandy and a fanciful puff from his cigar. Justine tried to look nonchalant as she smoked and sipped: it was difficult to enjoy the taste of the fine Havana and brandy without the kind of leverage with her relatives she was used to having. Her uncle continued: "I fancy myself an amateur photographer, I've even had a show or two in Paris. That gown that you're wearing is lovely; I would love some shots of you in that dress by the firelight."
"All right."
