Chapter Twenty-Two
It was still dark in the room when Céleste awoke the next morning.
A candle was lit across the room. The rays of light emanating from its flicker of flame didn’t entirely blind her, but neither did it cast enough light to be at all helpful.
She felt around in the blankets for Adèle and wasn’t overly surprised not to find her there.
The little girl was likely sleeping in Aldric’s arms, as she’d done the morning after they’d left Paris.
She’d fallen asleep while he’d held her in the public room last night, in fact.
His silhouette passed between Céleste and the candle. He was awake, apparently. And she was absolutely certain he was holding Adèle in one arm.
Aldric moved closer to the bed, and she realized how precarious her situation was.
He could see far better than she could and would likely know at a glance that she was watching him if he caught her out.
He might even be able to see what she was only just truly realizing: she was still smitten with him.
It was a truth she wasn’t ready to openly acknowledge to herself, let alone allow him to discover. She sat up and set her gaze on the window instead of on Aldric. “I hope I haven’t delayed our departure.”
“You haven’t,” he said. “I was awake, so I thought I’d prepare what I could.”
“Did Adèle wake you?” Céleste guessed.
“No.” He pulled open the curtains, letting light spill into the room. “I don’t know when she curled up next to me, but she was deeply asleep when I woke up.”
Céleste shielded her eyes, and she could see him a little better. Adèle was sleeping heavily in his arms, wrapped up in one of their blankets. “She obviously finds you very comforting.”
“I cannot imagine why.” His mumble held more embarrassment than annoyance.
“Do you truly find that baffling?”
“Do you not?” He sounded legitimately confused.
Céleste laughed a bit. “That should give you something to ponder as we make our journey today.”
Aldric turned to look at her once more. “You don’t mean to tell me what it is you have discovered?”
She just smiled.
His response to that surprised her in the best way: he grinned so fully that his eyes sparkled. “I think you might be a troublemaker, Céleste Fortier.”
Goodness, he was handsome. How was she supposed to keep her feelings safely out of sight when he smiled at her that way?
Aldric tucked their other blankets under one arm. “I’ll settle up with the innkeeper and get the cart ready. That will give you some privacy to prepare for the day.”
“Can you manage that with Adèle monopolizing one of your arms?”
“I’ll manage.” He picked up his portmanteau, then turned toward the door.
“You can leave her here,” Céleste offered. “That would simplify things for you.”
“I—she doesn’t—” Again there was more than a hint of embarrassment in his voice. He lowered his voice further and said, “She is not the only one who takes comfort in this arrangement.”
And on that unexpectedly tender explanation, he quit the room, closing the door quietly behind him.
Céleste’s eighteen-year-old self whispered to her from across the years that Aldric Benick was everything she had seen in him then. Her current self whispered back that he was something more.
She rose and dressed quickly. She missed her own clothing but had grown unexpectedly fond of the blue dress she’d traded it for.
And while her hair was, of necessity, very plainly styled, she found she liked that as well.
It was a disguise, yes, but it was somehow also freeing.
She was presenting to the world the impression that she was someone she wasn’t, yet she felt more herself than she had in two years.
She tucked Adèle’s portmanteau under an arm and took hold of hers in that hand.
Then she threaded her other arm through the handle of the now-empty food basket and, with that hand, grabbed the handle of her violin case.
Departing Fleur-de-la-Forêt in such a hurry had meant leaving a lot of things behind.
But she didn’t know how they would have managed if they’d been attempting to carry anything more than they were.
The stairwell was dark, so she descended carefully.
Below, a lantern was lit on a side table, which would make navigating to the inn’s door a little tricky.
The light would both help and hinder her.
As she reached the base of the stairs, she could hear people talking across the public room.
Their voices weren’t raised, nor did they sound particularly angry.
But there was an intensity that stopped her and all but forced her to listen.
“The French Guards would not fire on the people. A new militia has been formed, and the Marquis de Lafayette is rumored to be at its head. Les Invalides is in the hands of the people. The Bastille has been seized. The Third Estate will no longer be silenced.”
“In Paris, perhaps,” another voice answered. “But we, in the countryside, are left voiceless to starve.”
“The more I hear of all that has happened in the capital, the more convinced I am that we, too, will be heard.”
“We do not have a Bastille to storm,” the other man pointed out.
“No, but the happenings at Fleur-de-la-Forêt sent a message.”
Céleste wasn’t certain she wanted to know the extent of those “happenings,” though she had an idea. And if it was being talked about this far from the estate, then she, Aldric, and Adèle were not truly safe from the violence they’d fled.
“Madame, you have brought the basket.” The innkeeper’s wife spoke from her other side, pulling Céleste’s attention that way. “Your husband arranged for a bit of food to be put inside.” She held up a bundle wrapped in burlap, which she set inside the basket. “Thank you for the music last night.”
Céleste nodded. Her mind was spinning too much for words.
“Safe travels to you and your family,” the woman added.
“Thank you,” she managed.
From inside the public room came one more declaration: “Those who are wise will not stand in our way.”
Céleste thought she did relatively well hiding the unease she felt. They’d disguised their identities, but what if they were found out?
She slipped from the inn and into the yard.
Aldric was, in that exact moment, bringing the cart to a stop near the door.
Dawn had peeked over the horizon. She could make him out enough to know it was him sitting on the cart bench.
Only when she stood directly beside the cart could she see Adèle on the small bench next to him.
His presence helped the little girl remain calm. Céleste needed to feel the same, but all she had heard and the gaps in what she could see, both figuratively and literally, made peace a difficult thing to find.
She set the bags, basket, and violin in the bottom of the cart, then climbed up. She didn’t manage it entirely gracefully but thought it best not to wait to be handed up, as that might give anyone watching reason to wonder about her social standing.
“Is something the matter?” Aldric asked, his voice barely audible.
Her ability to play a part was more lacking than she thought. She gave a quick shake of her head. This was hardly the place to discuss what she’d heard and what she was worried about.
He set the cart in motion, and they drove out of the innyard, pointed in the direction they’d arrived from the night before.
“Have you been able to ascertain how far we are from Montbergerie?” she asked.
“Not precisely. My current guess is two more days.”
Two more days. Two more inns. Several more meals. Two days of stabling the horse. It was a very good thing they’d saved a little money the night before.
“Monsieur Aldric?” Adèle asked, her voice all but lost against the louder clop of the horse’s hooves.
“Are you speaking to me or to the horse?”
“To you.”
“What can I do for you, ma petite douce?”
“I am so sleepy.”
“Your tante Céleste will help you lie down,” Aldric said. “Then you can sleep as long as you want.”
Adèle didn’t seem reluctant to turn to Céleste, which felt like a little victory.
Perhaps she would eventually turn to Céleste directly for help with a problem or to secure her comfort.
She helped her niece stretch out across their laps, then laid her blanket over her.
As she’d done the day before, Céleste laid her arm over the girl’s middle to hold her in place should they hit a bump in the road.
With a swiftness that spoke of absolute exhaustion, Adèle was nearly instantly asleep.
Aldric looked like he would have gladly followed Adèle’s lead. Two of the last three nights he had slept on either the floor or in a chair. He’d spent the entire day before driving this cart after having spent two days in a traveling carriage. He had to have been exhausted.
“I have driven this cart before,” Céleste said, “though, admittedly, not with this horse. Please allow me to drive for a portion of the day today. You need to rest every bit as much as Adèle does.”
He shook his head. “You’ve been ill. You need rest more than either of us.”
“I don’t though.”
“Dr. Mercier specifically said that you needed rest, and you have been afforded precious little of it.”
If she was to convince him to see to his own welfare, then she was going to have to confess to the deception she’d been enacting.
She would have to admit she’d lied to him.
She didn’t want him to be angry with her or disappointed.
But she also couldn’t bear the thought of him exhausting himself unnecessarily.
“Jean-Francois is determined to see me married to someone who helps him further line his pockets and secure his place in Paris Society. He is also determined to wield every bit of power over me that he can, especially if doing so makes me at least a little miserable.”
Aldric didn’t argue with that assessment.
Here was the point when continuing her explanation would change how he saw her and what he thought of her.
She took a quick breath and swallowed down her nervousness.
“He was unlikely to leave Paris, which meant the best and safest place for me was somewhere away from Paris. Simply asking him to allow me to go to Fleur-de-la-Forêt would have all but guaranteed I would be permanently forbidden from doing so.”
His gaze was on the road, but she could tell he was listening intently.
“I’ve spent the past few months laying the groundwork for the argument that my health required me to leave Paris.
I had to be subtle and slow about it so he and Marguerite wouldn’t grow suspicious.
And I had to make certain I was seen in a somewhat weakened state at soirees and balls and such things so my brother and sister-in-law would also have to worry about how they would be perceived if they pushed me beyond my endurance.
” She pulled in another fast breath. “But I was never actually ill. It was all a strategy to rescue myself from Jean-Francois.”
Aldric’s mouth turned down in a fierce frown. “But when I brought Dr. Mercier to your brother’s house, he confirmed that you were ill and needed to go to the country for your health.”
She really was going to have to confess everything.
“Dr. Mercier’s sister married a man with one foot positioned precariously in Society who had hopes of improving his standing.
I agreed to make some helpful introductions if Dr. Mercier would agree to make and occasionally confirm a helpful diagnosis. ”
“Then I unknowingly played a part in furthering your ruse?”
She kept her posture stiff, though she felt like sinking into herself and disappearing as much as possible. “Yes.”
In the silence that followed, she hardly breathed. A painful stinging started behind her eyes, the emotion underlying it causing an ache in her heart. She’d been deceiving him ever since his arrival in Paris.
Aldric laughed.
She turned, wide-eyed, toward him at the unexpected sound. He looked over at her as well, then laughed harder.
“You aren’t angry with me?” she asked, baffled.
“Angry?” The word was punctuated with further laughter. “I am meant to be the master tactician in this group, and you fully out-strategized me.”
He wasn’t merely not angry; he was impressed. She didn’t quite know what to make of that.
Aldric kept laughing now and then without warning as they continued down the road. And every time he did, she smiled a little more broadly.
While she knew it was likely foolish to be falling so wholly in love with him again, she knew in that moment she couldn’t have stopped herself.