Chapter 29
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Elise
T he fantasy of dancing in Luc’s gentle but firm hold evaporated with the sight of his grandfather.
I super did not want to dance with him. What would we talk about? What would I say when the last thing he’d said to me was essentially I wasn’t good enough to join his family?
“No, I’m sorry. I’d like a few more minutes with my fiancée.”
Luc’s expression was neutral, but I could feel the tension in his body that hadn’t been there before.
His grandfather said something in French, to which Luc nodded, then Mr. Devereaux walked away.
“He said we should come have a drink before dinner. There’s an open bar. I agreed, but if you’d prefer to find friends, I’d be happy for you to do that and not deal with him.”
Apology laced every syllable, like he regretted I’d have to interact with his grandfather at all.
“That’s why I’m here, though. I can handle him, really.”
It wasn’t false bravado that had me saying this, either. Gérard Devereaux had caught me off guard these last few nights, no doubt, but I wasn’t about to cow to him. I’d spent enough time being degraded by men who thought they were better than me, and in the last twenty-four hours, I’d learned I could handle it. Heck, in the last five years, I’d learned the same.
Anything that man had to say about me, he could say. If he needed to belittle some woman he’d never met, a person his grandson had, to his knowledge, fallen for and proposed to, then he had problems. And they weren’t about me.
This odd little adventure with Luc had forced me to confront more than one of my fears—my mother, my past relationships, and even my education and work choices. And tonight, surrounded by the one percent of society in Silverton and beyond, I felt more settled and proud of who I’d become through those trials than ever before. I wasn’t done, but I was still growing. Still learning. Not stopping.
“I just don’t know how far he’s going to take all of this. But if I can speak to him alone, it might help.”
The determined glint in his eye clarified it for me. “Okay. Why don’t you have a drink with him, and I’ll go say hi to Liz and Eddie. Oh, and I see Calla and Jenna over there. Maybe I can just introduce myself?”
He stopped our dancing and gave me a look I couldn’t decipher, then kissed my forehead.
The action was so soft and slow, it shouldn’t have startled me the way it did. It was just that I wasn’t sure anyone had done anything so purely sweet, and it made me feel a little bit like my heart was breaking.
“She’ll love it. I’ll come find you in a few minutes,” he said, that… something still there.
I cleared my throat of the emotion that’d suddenly jumped there and pressed a hand to his perfectly close-trimmed beard. “Perfect. And, hey?—”
He gave me his full attention, right here in the middle of the bustling room with glitz and glamour and his grandfather’s expectations crowding around us.
“Be honest with him like you’ve been with your friends and me. Help him understand you. He’ll have no choice but to be proud of you.”
I hoped my suggestion wouldn’t be off base. I didn’t mean to tell him things between us were fake, of course, but more that he wanted his grandfather’s approval so much. He even seemed to miss the man in some capacity. I wanted him to have some healing in all of this, if possible.
His eyes glittered in the low light, and he dropped a kiss to my temple, then squeezed my hand. “Merci.”
We parted ways, a stupid longing clogging up my chest as I moved to the side of the dance floor and finally registered just how busy it’d gotten. The ambient noise levels had ratcheted louder and there were bodies everywhere. Mercifully, I caught Liz’s eye where she stood a few feet behind a group of people.
She was working even though she’d just gotten back into town, but that was Liz. She might’ve changed her whole career path, but the woman loved work. So many of the Saint people did. I wondered if Luc felt the same, though I had to believe he did, too, since it seemed he probably didn’t have to work a day in his life to pay the bills.
“Psst. Is it illegal for me to talk to you?” I asked, sidling up next to her and bumping her shoulder.
She laughed. “No. It’s not illegal. But I shouldn’t chat long.” Her gaze cut to meet mine, then dropped to take in the dress. “You look absolutely fabulous.”
I beamed. “Thanks. I feel it. I thought I’d feel like a joke walking in here, but I actually feel great.”
She’d been surveying the room while I spoke, but her eyes came back to mine. “You belong here if you want to. There’s no other qualification.”
She might not have known my whole story, but Liz was smart and observant. And she’d recently fought a battle within herself trying to decide whether she belonged in Silverton or if she had to stay the course and do what she’d always planned to do, even if her dreams had changed. I was so proud of her, and I understood she wasn’t just throwing out a trite statement.
“Thank you. And on that note, I’m going to go be bold and meet the woman my fiancé is spending all day every day with.” I flared my eyes a little, both at the fiancé and the other part.
She winked. “I can promise you it’s possible to guard an extremely attractive, charismatic person and still want to go home to the one you love.”
Our gazes turned right as her person tonight, Jack McKean, threw his head back and laughed at something Julian Grenier and his wife Quinn Darling-Grenier were saying.
I patted her arm. “Strong woman.”
We both laughed knowing she didn’t need strength to resist Jack. She was completely gone for Kenny, and he for her, and they were both good friends with Jack, who was apparently a really good guy.
I wove my way toward where I’d seen Calla Saint and Jenna Halter, nerves amping up a little bit, when someone stepped in front of me.
“Hi, oh, sorry. I don’t mean to waylay you, but just wondered if we could talk?”
Odette smiled apologetically but all this meant was that her beautiful, perfect face was both pretty and sincere and… wow. The ice blue gown she wore accentuated her eyes and she looked like a Norse goddess. Honestly, the woman needed to chill out because the rest of us mere mortals didn’t stand a chance.
“Uh, sure. Yeah. What did you want to talk about?” I asked as I stepped closer to a bistro table and fiddled with the edge of the tablecloth draped over it.
She set down a champagne glass she’d been holding, then startled. “Wait, you need one of these. Do you want a drink?”
“Sure. Yeah, I’d love one, actually, but it’s no?—”
She looked around, her hair swishing in golden curls around her, and a waiter literally came jogging over from one of the bars nestled against the wall a few feet away.
“Could she have a glass of champagne?” she asked, smiling prettily.
“Yes, of course. One moment,” he said, breathless to do her bidding.
She turned back to me. “Okay, so I know you want to get back to Luc, but I just wanted to clear the air between us.”
My face likely spelled out the confusion without me having to say anything, but I still said, “The air?”
“Mr. Devereaux suggested Luc and I marry years ago, mostly thanks to our family’s heritage and maybe some business connections. It’s always been something my parents had planned on— banked on, if you get my meaning.”
She’d lowered her voice conspiratorially and spoke like we were in on to something together. Odd. I didn’t know where this was going, but I’d certainly stick around and find out.
“I hadn’t met Luc or seen him in real life, and frankly, I didn’t need to. Everything I know is from his family, and I barely know them.”
She didn’t want this any more than he did. Interesting.
The waiter returned with a glass of champagne for me and one to replace hers which was still half-full. We both offered him thanks before he stepped away and we continued.
“So, if you don’t mind my asking, why are you here?”
She sighed and a sadness shadowed her face. “My family doesn’t approve of the person I would choose. I’ve tried to convince them, but they have their motives and don’t seem concerned with me or what I want.”
“That’s so… medieval. They think you’ll just get married to someone you barely know and then stay married for their sakes? Is there a dowry young Luc would get for taking you off their hands?” Fury on this woman’s behalf pumped into my bloodstream.
She grimaced. “They have their reasons for believing I would, but it’s actually the opposite.” Her expression turned cagey for a moment, and she glanced away. When she turned back, that pleasant, placid expression had taken its place. “So here I am, going through the motions, but I have no intention of doing anything to undermine you and Luc. The way he looks at you… that man has no interest, even if I had a heart to give away.”
A flashbulb of joy burst in my chest, and I bit my lip, but a laugh still jumped out. “I don’t mean to laugh, I just…”
“You don’t mind hearing your fiancé’s in love with you? I can’t imagine it’s a bad thing.” She held up her champagne flute. “To true love. May it prevail.”
There was a hope shining out of her, like maybe if she toasted to true love enough times, she’d get to have a happy ending for herself and the one she loved.
Could Luc love me? Could I love him? She seemed so certain, and she was so kind with her words. I had no idea where reality fell—maybe he’d taken notes from Jenna and Jack McKean and any other famous actor he’d worked with. He’d certainly managed to keep me in the dark as to how he really felt—or maybe he’d simply convinced everyone else he was in love.
I touched the edge of my glass with hers, smiling at her in full agreement with her toast. I wished for her sake, it would.
And though she wouldn’t recognize it or realize what it meant, I feared the hope in her eyes was echoed in mine.