Chapter Thirty-Three
A gentleman accompanying his friend’s sister.
Céleste had repeated that in her mind countless times during the crossing from Le Tréport, and it continued to fill her thoughts as she sat in a private room in a comparatively luxurious inn in Portsmouth away from the docks.
That was who Aldric considered himself where she was concerned. The connection that had been building between them had been relegated to something that felt impersonal and random.
She didn’t truly believe he had never felt anything more than that during their journey. She had simply needed to come to terms with the fact that “a gentleman accompanying his friend’s sister” was the entirety of what he was choosing now.
“When is tonton Aldric coming back?” Adèle asked.
“Soon, ma poupette. He is making arrangements for us to continue our journey.”
Adèle slouched in the armchair she was occupying near the low-burning fire. “I am very weary of being on a journey.”
“So am I, and I am certain your tonton Aldric is as well.”
Pulling her doll more tightly into her arms, Adèle said, “He will come back though. He won’t leave us here.”
“He would never leave you, Adèle. Not ever.” Aldric had, in fact, added to the summary of his role as accompanier of a friend’s sister that he was also safeguarding Adèle.
He had referred to her by name and described his connection to her as something important, something he had chosen.
Céleste, on the other hand, had only been Henri’s sister.
“I think tonton Aldric loves me,” Adèle said.
“I know he does. And I love you too, sweet Adèle. I hope you know that.”
She smiled at Céleste. “Of course I do.”
Of course I do. It was the utterly perfect response: confirmation but in a tone that indicated the truth of it should have been obvious. Adèle clearly didn’t doubt that Céleste loved her. She assumed it, believed it, and trusted it.
Céleste knew she would cling to this moment for years. It wasn’t the same as Adèle saying that she loved her, but Céleste didn’t expect that. Only Henri had ever said he loved her; she’d long ago stopped expecting anyone else to.
Except that wasn’t entirely true any longer. She had let herself believe she would hear those words from Aldric. She had fully and utterly believed it.
“Will that man find us again?” Adèle asked, fussing with her doll’s dress.
“What man?”
“The one who tried to take me away.”
Céleste had clung to some hope that Adèle wasn’t still burdened by that experience. One didn’t easily forget so harrowing an experience, but she’d hoped.
She rose from her chair and crossed to Adèle.
She knelt in front of her chair. “That man was left behind in France. We are in England now, and we are safe. We are going to tonton Aldric’s house.
His friends will come see us there. Tonton Henri and tante Nicolette will be there soon as well.
You will have so many people who love you and are looking after you that no one will have a chance to snatch you away. ”
“Even if it is his job?” she asked in earnest and worried tones.
“His job?”
Adèle nodded. “He said when he was running with me that he didn’t want to hurt me, just take me to a different man. That it was his job.” She took a tense breath. “But he threw me on the ground, so he did hurt me.”
Céleste took Adèle’s hand. “He cannot hurt you again, Adèle. There are so many of us who will make certain of that.”
The door to their private room scraped open, the sudden sound startling them both. Aldric stepped inside, a bit damp from the rain outside. He carried boxes and parcels, tied together with twine.
“Tonton Aldric!” Adèle abandoned both her doll and her aunt and scrambled off the chair, rushing to Aldric. She threw her arms around his leg and held tight. “You were gone for too long.”
“I had a lot to do to get us ready to travel to my house.”
“Are we going there now?” she asked, looking up at him.
Céleste walked slowly toward them. She didn’t want to interrupt while Adèle was being comforted and reassured.
“We are going to start on our way,” Aldric said, “but we will need several days to get to my home.”
Adèle sighed a touch dramatically. “More journeying?”
“Yes, ma petite douce. But I have some new toys for you to play with while you are in the carriage.”
That lit her up quickly. “You do?”
Aldric nodded. “Go put away the toys you’ve taken out of the bag so we can be ready to depart.”
Adèle set eagerly to work.
Céleste stepped closer to him. Before she could speak, he did.
“I have procured a hired traveling carriage, as well as the services of a widow with a pristine reputation and a willingness to serve as chaperone for the remainder of our journey. Her name is Mrs. Sommers, and she is meeting us here in a quarter hour.” He was speaking very matter-of-factly and at too quick a clip for her to get a word in edgewise.
“I’ve sent a messenger to Fairfield requesting that Niles and Penelope meet us at Norwood Manor.
The proprietor of this inn is filling our basket with food enough for this first part of our journey and has recommended both an establishment at which to break our journey tonight and an inn along the way for changing horses. ”
“Before we—”
“We should arrive at Norwood late in the evening three days from now. Niles and Penelope, if I’ve guessed correctly, will arrive within a day or two after that. Mrs. Sommers has agreed to remain at Norwood until then.”
“Aldric—”
He held his stack of boxes a little higher. “And there are a few things—”
“Aldric.”
“—for the—”
“Will you listen to me for one moment, Lord Aldric?”
That got his attention at last. “My apologies, Mlle Fortier.”
She shifted to English. “Don’t be snippy. I only spoke so formally because I didn’t know how else to get you to hear me.”
He lifted an eyebrow and gave a single dip of his head.
“Adèle told me while you were away that the man who attempted to kidnap her spoke to her.”
Aldric’s eyes darted to Adèle before returning to her.
“He told her it was his job to take her to someone else. His ‘job.’ It’s the same thing the man was shouting at L’Auberge du Chêne Vert. He said he had to do a job.”
“It was the same man.” Aldric set his stack of boxes and parcels down. “He’d been hired to take Adèle to someone else.”
“Likely to either the man who wrote the note we found in Adèle’s book or the one who wrote the letters to Jean-Francois,” Céleste said.
“And he was likely the same person who was looking for us in Le Tréport.” His look of deep pondering had become extremely familiar to her.
“From both the look and sound of him, the man was not well-to-do and was decidedly French. And he seemed to be doing his ‘job’ almost halfheartedly, which means he either didn’t care for the task, wasn’t being paid well, or both. ”
Céleste nodded.
“He won’t have gone to the trouble or expense of crossing the Channel. And whoever hired him won’t have influence or recourse in England.”
“I do think we are safe now that we’re here.” She took a fortifying breath.
Aldric turned to the stack he’d been carrying. He untied the twine and handed her the two parcels on top.
“What are they?” she asked.
“Some things you need.” It was all he said before turning his attention to the two remaining boxes. He tucked one under each of his arms and crossed to the spot where the portmanteau and her violin case sat waiting for departure.
“Are my new toys in one of those boxes?” Adèle asked him.
“You will have to wait and find out, ma petite douce.”
Céleste sat at the small table near the front window and opened the larger of the two parcels. Inside was what appeared to be a bit of thick, folded fabric. But as she peeled back the paper wrapped around it, she realized it was, in actuality, a beautiful blue cloak.
A cloak.
Though she’d done her best to hide the fact, she had often been cold since they’d fled Fleur-de-la-Forêt, at times miserably so. And England was so much colder than France. She’d not said anything, but Aldric had realized her difficulty and addressed it.
The small parcel contained two pairs of thick, woolen stockings.
That her feet had also been cold had only arisen in conversation between them once, while on the ship that had brought them across the Channel.
But that conversation had been dismissive in so many ways that she’d not expected him to remember much about it.
She turned back to face Aldric. But he wasn’t in the room any longer.
Listening a bit more closely, she could hear him in the public room just outside this one, talking.
She couldn’t make out his exact words but knew instinctively he was continuing to see to the arrangements and their comfort.
He had the ability to do that with more ease now, having his identity and resources back.
He had regained his footing.
She couldn’t seem to find hers.
Céleste took her new stockings to the portmanteau.
“I’ve finished putting my toys in the bag,” Adèle said. “Tonton Aldric will be very proud of me.”
“Yes, he will.” Céleste pressed a kiss to Adèle’s cheek.
She set her stockings inside the bag, where she would easily find them when her feet grew cold. Her hand brushed against a bit of parchment. Was it the note from Aldric’s late mother?
She pulled it out. It was the threatening note that had been put in Adèle’s book. Though they were out of France and she did indeed feel they had escaped the danger that had followed them through the countryside, the familiarity of the handwriting still bothered her.
“Ladies, this is Mrs. Sommers.”
Céleste stood at the sudden sound of Aldric’s voice. As she turned to face the door again, she slipped the note into the hidden pocket accessible through the skirts of her dress.
A woman likely at least twice Céleste’s age stood beside Aldric.
She was dressed in the clothing of one not quite of the gentry but hovering near to it.
And while she demurred a bit, she didn’t look intimidated by Aldric.
No one would ever believe that Mrs. Sommers could be coerced into shirking her duties.
But would she also be unkind?
To Mrs. Sommers, Aldric said, “This is Miss Fortier and Miss Adèle Fortier.” He made the very simple introduction in English, even using the English honorifics rather than the French ones.
Mrs. Sommers curtsied. “I am pleased to meet you both.”
“My niece only speaks French,” Céleste offered as something of a warning.
The woman nodded. “Lord Aldric told me as much. I will be dependent on your kindness in translating.”
“Lord Aldric also speaks French,” Céleste assured her.
“Yes, but he will be riding alongside the carriage rather than inside.”
Céleste looked to Aldric. She switched to French, though she only vaguely noted that she’d done so. “Is that a requirement of propriety in England?” She hadn’t heard as much. It wasn’t as though the two of them would have been alone. “You could ride inside. With . . . us.”
His demeanor was a little aloof, though not uncordial . . . a gentleman interacting with his friend’s sister. “I much prefer to make the journey on my own.”
She’d warned herself back in Paris that Aldric Benick might very well break her heart again. If only she’d listened.