Page 93 of Right With You
Whispered expletives tripped out of Cynthia while her husband rather foolishly fumbled around in his pocket. I jumped up, raced around the table, and caught his arm right as he pulled out a handgun. Since he didn’t expect me, I hammered my fist against his forearm to force his hand to open, then pulled the gun from his grip.
“Don’t think so,” I said, shoving him back into his seat as his wife screamed and Grand-père yelled in French.
“What is the meaning of this? You kidnap my grandson’s fiancée and attempt to get money? Now you brandish a weapon? Are you mad?”
The ridiculous antique revolver didn’t have a safety, so I stepped back, aimed the barrel at the floor, and emptied the chambers to make sure no one’s excitement resulted in injury or worse.
Apparently, the two de Valois parents were mad, because Bernard ran out of the room as though he could outrun his many imbecilic choices, and Cynthia launched herself around her daughter, right at Elise.
Before I could get to her, Elise and Cynthia had fallen to the ground. Odette wailed at her mother, begging her to stop. Aurelie and Michele were grabbing at the woman’s arms trying to pull her off Elise, and right when I finally reached them, Elise shoved her off and scrambled away, into my arms.
Arriving just in time, the officers who’d first responded to the call about Elise being gone stepped into the room and took charge.
“Cynthia de Valois. You’re under arrest for conspiracy to kidnap, extortion, and coercion. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say…”
They led her out of the room, giving me a nod as they passed. I held Elise tight, not wanting to be even an inch apart from her, until she pulled back.
“You okay?” she asked, her dark eyes tired but alert.
“I’m fine. You?” I brushed some hair out of her face and indulged in kissing her forehead.
“I am. I can’t believe they were convinced they were owed that money. Did they think they could’ve shot one of us and gotten it?”
Her disbelief echoed my own. What had been the plan with the weapon?
My grandfather stood nearby, weight shifting from one foot to the other. I’d never known the man to display his anxieties, but it was scrawled in perfect script across his whole being now.
“May I have a moment?” he asked, stepping forward as we turned to face him.
Elise nodded. “Of course. I’ll meet you out?—”
“Non, Elise. I’d like a moment with you,” he said, reaching out and taking her hand in both of his.
She blinked. “Um, sure.”
“I’d like to stay,” I said, sensing Elise didn’t want to be left and supremely curious what he wanted to say.
“Bien sûr. I need to apologize to both of you. I was so very wrong. I’ve been looking out for this family’s enterprises for so long, I prioritized them over you.” His gaze shifted between the both of us. “Aurelie admitted to me last night that you were not actually engaged…”
Elise’s eyes snapped to mine, and I found Aurelie, who approached with Michele.
“How did you know? Why didn’t you talk to me?” I asked, worry stitching along my chest.
My sister gave me a soft smile. “It was Michele. He figured it out. But just as soon as he did, we had the gala and I decided not to ask. I thought, ‘what if I let my little brother learn something for himself?’ And here you are.”
I rolled my eyes but hooked my arm around Elise’s waist and pulled her close while Michele beamed.
“You lied to me, but I’m the reason why. I’m sorry I pushed you. I can’t promise it won’t happen again, but I hope you’ll accept my apology—both of you.” His face had softened more than I’d seen in recent memory.
“Of course,” Elise said, with all the grace and goodness I’d come to associate with her.
“Thank you.” It was really the best thing to say because it meant the most. No lofty promises he’d change his whole personality, but an intention to do better. That meant something here.
“And perhaps you’ll come visit me in France sometime?” He ducked his head and whispered, “It’s a lovely place for a honeymoon.”
Elise laughed softly and offered him a smile as he pulled me into a hug. I couldn’t pay attention to his show of affection, though, because I was looking at her.
She didn’t seem horrified at the idea of a honeymoon. Not even totally surprised by it. Of course, maybe she was still pretending—maintaining some level of the façade we’d created, even if we’d been found out.
