Chapter Nine #2
Not until she’d begun going about in Society and spent countless nighttime hours at the various diversions had she realized that not everyone experienced the dark the way she did.
Disapproving comments about her tendency to squint had brought it to her attention, and she’d made efforts ever since to hide her struggle.
Now and then, the blinding effect of dozens of candles in an otherwise dark room caused her missteps, like bumping into the chair the night before.
Aldric’s deep voice and handsome demeanor had been distracting her . . . just as they were doing now.
She needed to find something to ponder other than that.
“Thank you for sending Pierre on his way earlier today,” she said. “I cross paths with him more often than I would prefer, and he is often vexing.”
Aldric looked at her as they continued their meandering walk around the public rooms. “In what way?”
How did she explain it? “I cannot point to anything in his behavior that is wholly inappropriate or uncharitable, yet his interactions feel that way. I am always left feeling ill-used and belittled.” She shook her head.
“But I cannot make specific objections because I cannot identify why that is my reaction.”
“Are you always with your brother or sister-in-law when you interact with M. Léandre?” Aldric asked.
“I am always with them when I interact with anyone.” It was more than she’d intended to reveal. Why did that keep happening? Hoping to stave off any inquiries her revelation might inspire, Céleste made a show of checking behind a door for someone hiding. “No one there. We’ll have to keep looking.”
She could tell with a glance that Aldric knew she was avoiding the topic she’d inadvertently introduced. Would he press the matter?
“Henri is worried.” Aldric looked behind a curtain hanging over one of the drawing room’s windows.
“About me?”
“We are all a little worried about you.” He didn’t make the declaration with any particular degree of tenderness, yet her heart responded as if he had.
She was being unforgivably foolish. The girlish tendre she’d nursed for him had long since run its course. Why was her heart behaving otherwise?
“But he is also concerned about Jean-Francois.”
That was unexpected. “Why is he worried about our brother?”
“Because your brother is the one receiving threatening letters.”
Ah. “He told you about the letters.”
“Henri did not indicate he wasn’t supposed to.” Aldric shot her a look of inquiry as they walked from the room.
“I have no objections. It is a mystery I cannot sort, and I’d very much like to be able to.”
“They are legitimate threats; all of us thought so immediately. But there is not enough information to identify the writer or the exact threat.”
Céleste nodded. “The exact reason I am seeking out help.”
“Nicolette says there is someone she can ask who might be able to learn a little more. Lucas and Julia have endeared themselves to enough in Paris Society that we are hopeful they can do a bit of digging. Lucas, especially.”
“Why him especially?”
“Because he gives such an impression of whimsicality that most people never suspect that he is exceptionally clever and bold. People talk more openly with those they consider dismissively innocuous.”
There was a lot of truth to that. “Everyone is going to a great deal of trouble to help Jean-Francois. I wish I could say he would appreciate it if he knew.”
“None of us are doing this for him.”
She wished, for just a moment, that they were making this effort for her. But she knew better. “I wonder if Henri realizes just how many people would do anything in the world for him.”
Their steps took them past the open door of the small sitting room in the exact moment Julia giggled from inside. Aldric stopped their forward motion. He gave Céleste a dry look.
“I’m beginning to understand why you don’t like this game as much as you once did,” Céleste said.
“It has been rendered rather pointless. Those seeking do not overly want to find those who are hiding, and those who are hiding don’t particularly wish to be found.”
“Go away,” Lucas’s voice said from within the room. “Your grumbling is putting a damper on my efforts.”
Aldric shook his head. “I despise this game.”
Céleste didn’t think he actually despised it. She would wager at least half of his objections were a matter of teasing, something very common among the Gents. But there was also very real frustration in his voice and something in his expression that spoke of loneliness.
“Your lack of cooperation, Lucas, is significantly dampening my enjoyment of the evening,” Céleste said in response. “I fear I was brought here under false pretenses, having been told we would all be spending the evening together. Instead, only Aldric has even noticed that I’m here.”
Aldric allowed the slightest of smiles, which she returned with enthusiasm.
It was an odd thing for her. She’d learned over the past two years to be very careful about expressing her feelings; they were so often used against her.
But, though he had never returned her now-dwindled regard, she trusted Aldric, and she enjoyed his company.
Lucas and Julia emerged from the room, both laughing. Lucas even held his hands up in a show of surrender. “We have been rude. It is difficult to resist suggesting this game when it makes Aldric look at us like that.” He pointed at Aldric and then grinned even broader.
“We can think of a different game to continue on with,” Julia said.
“Assuming you can convince Henri and Nicolette to quit the game,” Aldric said. “I haven’t had luck yet.”
In the end it didn’t take a great deal of convincing.
In fact, the way the two couples looked at each other with barely concealed laughter told Céleste they had, in actuality, undertaken the game and then refused to come out of hiding specifically because it would lead Aldric to grumble. He did so, but with amusement.
They were such a wonderfully odd group. Did Nicolette realize how fortunate she was? Did any of them know what it felt like to be the one left behind?
They all assembled in the drawing room once more, cozily situated and ready to decide upon a new diversion for the evening. Julia sat with her hand resting on her middle, the same way Marguerite had begun doing in the last couple of months. Did all expectant mothers adopt that tendency?
They’d been in the drawing room for only a few minutes when a missive arrived for Nicolette. She opened it immediately and read quickly. Hers was not the expression of someone who’d received pleasant correspondence from a friend or acquaintance. Something in this was urgent.
She looked up from the letter and directly at Lucas. “Are your plans tomorrow flexible enough that I might have use of the carriage?”
“Of course,” he said.
She nodded, looking at the letter once more. “Henri and I need to go to Versailles.”
While Lucas and Julia looked intrigued at the declaration, Aldric was intensely interested. Why?
“Kes and I visited Versailles during our Grand Tour,” Lucas said. “I would enjoy returning and showing Julia.”
Henri asked Nicolette, “Could Julia and Lucas join us, do you think?”
Nicolette nodded, but a little absentmindedly. “The request has come from the Marquis de Lafayette. Anyone he wishes to see will not be turned away.”
Julia looked excited but also undeniably nervous. “Do you suppose we will actually be in company with Their Majesties? I did not bring any clothing appropriate for court.”
Nicolette waved that off. She wasn’t usually one for dismissing concerns surrounding expectations. She was clearly meeting with the marquis about something significant.
Aldric’s concentration had grown more intense. “I have also not been to Versailles in years,” he said. “We should all go.”
Henri turned to Céleste. “If you stay here tonight, you can make the journey with us in the morning.”
“If Jean-Francois will agree,” Céleste said.
He had gone to Versailles a few months earlier, something he had crowed about to anyone who would listen, but she had not been permitted to join him there.
She’d managed to hide her disappointment—Versailles was a favorite of hers, and she’d not visited in some time—but Jean-Francois had likely known he’d dealt her a blow.
“He is very concerned with his standing and perception in Paris Society,” Julia said.
“Telling him that you were invited by the Marquis de Lafayette should help sway him. We can unabashedly celebrate what a triumph that is and how impressed everyone will be that the daughter of the Fortier family should have such exalted connections.”
Jean-Francois would like that, but it wouldn’t be enough. “He did not say I could stay here tonight.”
“He more tightly controls your activities than you have previously let on, it seems,” Julia said.
Céleste’s determination not to pull them into the precarious situation was being undermined by how at-home she felt with this remarkable group of people. She was allowing herself to say more than she ought. What, then, was she to do when asked so direct a question? She didn’t want to lie outright.
“He is sometimes . . . difficult.”
Aldric’s posture, one of leisure and authority, didn’t change, but something in his expression softened a little.
“My brother, Crofton, regularly blackened my eyes for no real reason, but he also stole money from our father and then went out of his way to tell our father that I had stolen it. I once described him as ‘difficult’ when I knew he was far more than that because I was hiding how miserable life with him really was.”
Everyone was watching her now. She didn’t say anything; she couldn’t have without either lying or revealing more than she truly wanted to.
Aldric, with an unmistakable air of authority, said, “We’ll send a note to Jean-Francois saying the very weariness and fatigue Dr. Mercier warned of has left you so exhausted that you’ve fallen asleep.
We will say that none of us have the heart to wake you and so are choosing to do the civil thing and allow you to rest.”
“Jean-Francois does seem to argue less with you than he does with most people,” Céleste said.
“Because he’s not afraid of most people, I’d wager,” Lucas said. “But everyone’s afraid of Aldric.”
Aldric didn’t counter the assertion.
“I’m not afraid of him,” Céleste said.
She didn’t know what response she expected to that declaration, but seeing Aldric grin proved an utter delight. He had a wonderful smile, made even more delightful by how rare it was.
The remainder of the evening was spent playing games and enjoying lively conversation.
A note was penned by Julia and sent to Marguerite, a brilliant bit of strategy suggested by the General.
Céleste didn’t doubt she would be permitted to remain and that no note of objection would be received from her brother.
But at some point, the bill always came due. Jean-Francois would know she had done something without first securing his approval. Worse, in his mind, it was something that would bring her a bit of happiness. It was a dual transgression he would not ignore.
She would enjoy herself as much as possible over the next twenty-four hours. Then she would brace herself for what came next.