Chapter Five
“I don’t like it.” Julia echoed what they had all been saying ever since leaving Jean-Francois’s house only an hour earlier. The topic hadn’t shifted much as they had all prepared for and were now traveling toward the Lapointes’ home for the evening’s soiree.
“Your brother was overbearing in England,” Aldric said to Henri, “but his behavior toward Céleste feels different now. If he is requiring her to report to him her comings and goings even within the house, it isn’t difficult to deduce that he is being controlling in other ways.”
Anytime one person held that much power over another’s basic movements and existence, the situation could quickly go from unhappy to dangerous. Aldric hadn’t heard over the years that Jean-Francois had a violent streak. He hoped that remained true.
“But she is being very close-lipped about it.” Nicolette shook her head. “We need a better idea of what the situation truly is, but I don’t think Céleste will tell us.”
“Marguerite clearly believes we will be beneficial to her standing in Paris,” Julia said to her. “By leaning into that, we ought to be able to nudge a few insights from Marguerite.”
“I’d offer to dig deeper into Jean-Francois,” Henri said, “but I suspect that would prove a very poor approach.”
Aldric nodded firmly. “Even if he didn’t realize what we were attempting to do, he takes such quick and complete offense at most everything you do or say that he would be uncooperative simply out of spite.”
Henri shook his head in frustration. “I expected him to be upset that I managed to stay in England and out from under his thumb, but I hadn’t anticipated him being truly loathsome.”
Lucas, in a tone more somber than was usual for him, said, “I have my suspicions the tyranny we are seeing and of which we suspect him is, in many ways, Jean-Francois’s means of punishing Céleste for helping you thwart him.”
“His pride took a beating when he didn’t get what he wanted from you.
” Aldric hated seeing guilt pass through Henri’s eyes, but if they were to help Céleste—and Aldric firmly suspected she needed help—then Henri needed to understand what it was they were facing.
“Jean-Francois knows he no longer has the ability to control you. But he has discovered he can control your sister.”
“It is my fault, then,” Henri said. “I ought to have come to France sooner to intervene. She needed me, and I wasn’t here.”
“Until her letters stopped, we couldn’t have known,” Nicolette insisted.
“This is Jean-Francois,” Henri countered. “I’ve known for far too long that he had the potential to be horrifyingly like our father.”
“Perhaps Aldric or Lucas could attempt a conversation with Jean-Francois tonight,” Julia said as the carriage came to a stop in front of the home of the Lapointe family. “Anything we can glean will help us better know what needs to be done for Céleste.”
Aldric was shaking his head before the suggestion was even finished.
“Jean-Francois treats us with a bit more respect than Henri, owing to our family connections and titles. But we are first and foremost Henri’s friends.
He won’t grow suspicious as quickly as he would if Henri was doing the discussing, but I do think we have a very narrow threshold with him. ”
“What approach ought we to take?” Lucas asked.
“The two ladies can talk with Marguerite. I do think she’ll be more willing to spill her budget.
Lucas is very good at charming people into amiable interactions.
That can help establish in Marguerite’s and Jean-Francois’s minds that we are good for their standing while we’re here, which should soften them toward us. ”
“Their standing and reputation are terribly important to them both,” Henri acknowledged.
“And I will ascertain what I can from Céleste,” Aldric said.
By the time they entered the grand drawing room of the opulent Paris house, the group was the very picture of aristocratic elegance. No one would guess they were all worried, wary, and on a mission of discovery.
Nicolette undertook a great many introductions as they made their way around the room.
To Aldric’s delight, she chose to introduce him not merely as son of the late Duke of Hartley but as the son of Clothilde Benick, née Guillaume, the late Duchess of Hartley.
His mother’s name was still known among Paris Society, and he was treated to more than one declaration that she had been loved.
In England, it was his connection to Father that gave him standing and identity, seasoned by the gossips’ intrigue at his father’s clear dislike and dismissal of Aldric. But here, in a country that was not his homeland, in a city he did not frequent, he was welcomed because of his mother.
She had brought him here. She was the reason he’d made this journey, to claim an offering she had left for him. But he felt as though she was giving him a gift already. For a brief time, he could be uplifted by his familial connections.
Julia spoke multiple languages and had studied cultures extensively and at length.
No one watching her circulate so easily amongst Paris Society, speaking French so easily and naturally, would guess that she had not been to France before.
And everyone witnessing the growing grin on Lucas’s face would know in an instant how much he loved her intelligence and capability.
Some men were threatened by those traits in a woman; he was clearly besotted.
Aldric sometimes let himself imagine having a wife who was clever and intelligent, who felt like a partner, companion, and match in the way all the Gents’ wives were. But a lady like that deserved to be part of a happy family. He was a Benick; family was always a disaster.
They’d not yet completed their circuit of the room when they were met by Jean-Francois, Marguerite, and Céleste.
Henri’s brother puffed up quite a bit as he looked at the faces around him and mentioned the high standing of his acquaintances.
They were more Henri’s acquaintances, but that was not mentioned.
“The Fortiers’ fortunes have grown noticeably of late,” one of the onlookers said to Aldric in tones of admiration.
“Their social fortunes or monetary fortunes?”
“Both.”
Interesting.
The ladies immediately launched into their efforts. Julia asked Marguerite which of the ladies were her particular friends. Nicolette leaned on her knowledge of Paris Society to express her approval of Marguerite’s acquaintances.
Aldric turned his attention to Céleste. Nicolette had revealed to them all shortly after their visit to Jean-Francois’s house that Céleste had been feeling unwell.
A doctor had even been sent for. Watching her, Aldric could see some evidence of that.
He had been in company with her a few times in the past, both when he had visited France and when she had been in England for the house party.
She was vibrant and energetic. So little of that was evident in her now.
Was it illness entirely, or was at least part of the difficulty the dampening effect of her elder brother’s treatment?
A young gentleman, likely almost exactly Céleste’s age, arrived among them, and Jean-Francois was quick to make introductions. Céleste watched the newcomer through slightly narrowed eyes, but she didn’t seem displeased by his presence.
“Monsieur D’Aubert, we have visitors here from England.
” Jean-Francois motioned to Aldric. “Lord Aldric Benick, younger son of the late Duke of Hartley.” He turned to Lucas and Julia.
“The Earl and Countess Lampton.” Jean-Francois spared only a glance for Henri and Nicolette.
“My younger brother and his wife, of course.”
“Paris has not been the same without you these past two years, Mme Fortier,” the young gentleman said with a dip of his head.
Nicolette had been quite a significant part of Paris Society before her marriage. She responded with all the grace and acumen a Society darling was taught to possess. “It is such a pleasure to be in Paris again.”
Some of Jean-Francois’s pride at the introduction ebbed. The visitors he had emphasized were not garnering the most interest from M. D’Aubert.
“It is a shame this evening’s entertainment will not include dancing.” Jean-Francois spoke too abruptly to be truly graceful. “I know you would enjoy dancing with Céleste again.”
Céleste answered with a wan smile. Yet there wasn’t disapproval or dismissal in her mannerisms, as one would expect if she was simply annoyed at her brother’s awkwardly attempted matchmaking.
“Another time.” M. D’Aubert looked a little disappointed but not entirely downcast.
Marguerite, apparently not fully distracted by her conversation with Julia, jumped in immediately. “There will be a ball in only two days. Simply everyone will be clamoring to dance with our Céleste.” She turned directly to Aldric. “I hope you will dance with her as well.”
“I would be honored if my dear friend’s sister chose to dance with me.” He intentionally emphasized the brotherly connection.
Crofton and Jean-Francois had made rather obnoxious efforts to toss Aldric and Céleste together during the house party at Norwood Manor two years earlier. With effort, Aldric and Céleste had managed to emerge unscathed and unattached. Aldric intended to do so again.
“Isn’t that thoughtful of him?” Marguerite set a hand on Céleste’s arm, squeezing excitedly. “Such impressively aristocratic manners.”
Céleste managed a hint of a smile. Aldric could tell that, this time, the expression was not weakened exclusively by illness. She, too, had sorted that her family was scheming again.
“I would very much like to sit down, if possible.” She looked to Jean-Francois. Her expression was not one of someone asking to be accompanied to a place of much-needed rest but, rather, a person seeking permission to obtain it.