Page 77 of Summer of Sacrifice

“My mother won’t see reason, either. She trusts Dr. Pollock implicitly. He’s been the family physician since before she was born. Not to mention, we’ve never come to Whitehall for the whole of the Summer before, let alone with sworn secrecy and staff acquired from outside Merveille so no one would know who we are…”

He’d been shocked and thoroughly impressed with her sleuthing the night Seleste divulged the fact she knew precisely who he and his family were.

“It’s peculiar, I’ll give you that.”

“It’s truly bizarre. They’re even talking about inviting Lord Townsend to Whitehall at the end of the Summer. My father loathes Lord Townsend.”

“What are your suspicions?”

“I truly don’t know. But, you see everything.” He smiled at her, a look of pride that warmed her heart. “And I wanted to ask your opinion—see if you had noticed anything, or could keep your eyes open.”

“Of course.” She touched his arm, pulling away quickly when he tried to snatch her by the waist. “I did notice drops of blood on your father’s handkerchief after a coughing fit while I was in his rooms a moon ago, discussing the girls.”

Cal baulked. “The doctor has never once mentioned anything of the like. That could be any number of things… But he’s told my father he’s fine, and my father seems to believe it. That in and of itself is…” His voice trailed off as he shook his head in disbelief.

“I don’t know much about the familial lines in Merveille’s aristocracy,” Seleste said, “but I do know Bellvary is a large region of Seagovia, and it’s strange, at least, to hide a serious illness from you, who stands to inherit said earlship, without reason. Perhaps I’m jumping to conclusions, but it has the air of?—”

“Scandal. I agree,” Cal murmured, pensive. “Perhaps he only wants to get his affairs in order before telling me.” A sound of exasperation left him. “No, that’s not like him to spare my feelings. Something doesn’t feel right…” Abruptly, Cal stood. “I’ll see you for teatime?”

“Of course,” she smiled.

“Good. We’ll formulate a plan then.”

Cal bid his sisters goodbye and left their makeshift schoolroom. Seleste’s mind was busy attempting to connect all the dots she’d been given and sifting through any information she’d heard since her start at Whitehall, so she told the girls their lessons were through for the morning. She sent them out to the garden to play and headed for her room to retrieve a notebook to jot some of her thoughts down while the girls got some fresh air.

Nearing the parlour, she heard voices, one of them harsh.

“Why do you spend so much time talking to that servant?”

“She is not a servant, Mother. She is a governess.”

Oh, sweet Cal.

Lady Della scoffed at her son. “Why do you spend so much time talking to the help, then?”

“Her name,” he snapped so harshly that Seleste gaped, “is Mademoiselle Joubert, and I was asking after the girls’ studies. They’re doing quite well. Truly blossoming. All thanks to her. We should consider bringing her back to the city with us.”

A bitter laugh cracked out of her ladyship. “And have your sisters laughed out of High Society with a governess like that? I think not. They have a perfectly adequate tutor in Merveille already.”

Cal was saying something in response, but Seleste had heard enough. She turned back the way she’d come and went to find the girls outside.

Chapter

Fifteen

LAURENT

“Say that again,” Laurent purred, nuzzling Winnie’s neck.

”Why?” she huffed, pulling away just enough to look at him where they lay tangled in the sheets.

”Because I liked it.”

Her perfect, porcelain face broke into the smile that set his soul aflame. She sat up, holding the thin sheet to her chest. Preening, she lifted her chin. “You, oh powerful Cirque Master, were right. I did sleep better.”

Pulling her back down, Laurent chuckled and tucked her head into the hollow where his chest met his shoulder—the place where she fit perfectly.

He hadn’t told her he was fucking terrified of the eclipse. Of facing Chresedia. Not after his show of fearlessness when Seleste had come, raving mad at them.

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