Page 83 of Love in a Mist
There simply had to be a way to hold on to that for her, to keep her in England as long as possible. Even if Jean-François agreed to allow Céleste to live with them in France and look after Adèle and be her advocate, there was no guarantee that would be enough for her to regain these high and delighted spirits.
Céleste shook her head. She had promised Aldric she wouldn’t worry about that yet. They would keep their focus on what they were navigating just then. That meant she also needed to attempt to clear from her mind her growing concern for Henri and Nicolette.
She glanced up again to check on Adèle, but her attention was caught by another sight entirely.
Aldric was carrying an armload of firewood. And he was doing so with his thin shirt clinging to him as he worked.
Céleste’s heart leaped directly from her chest to her throat, pounding there in a way that was somehow both disconcerting and entirely pleasant. He was ... impressive. He’d always been something of an imposing figure. He walked into a room, and everyone noticed. He could stand about quietly watching and somehow be the person most in command. When dressed in the most intricately pieced-together fashionable ensemble, he cut quite a dash.
But now, when dressed in threadbare and plain clothing, she couldn’t look away. She wasn’t even certain she was blinking.
“You two must be fairly newly married for you to still be looking at him that way.” The woman laughed a little, giving Céleste something of a sympathetic look.
“Very newly,” she said. Realizing that would make Adèle’s presence a conversational thread the woman might choose to chase down, she added, “Not many men would marry a woman who came with a niece to look after, no matter that he loved her. Butmon trésoris something different, something better. He is the very best of men.”
“Oh, I suspected from the beginning you felt that way about him. And the way he looks at you would put many would-be Romeos to shame.”
The way he looks at me.There had been a great deal more tenderness between them of late. He was sweet and kind. And while she told herself it was simply that he was a good man looking after someone in a very difficultsituation, she’d wanted to believe there was something special in it, something particular to her.
This chance-met stranger insisted there was.
“Well then, don’t simply sit there pining over him. Take a moment and go put your arms around him.”
Céleste hoped the warmth of the sun on her face disguised the blush she felt creeping over her cheeks. “I don’t want to disrupt his work. I’m certain this is what he’s doing to repay your son for his kindness.”
“You’ll not be disrupting long. And I’ve never known a man who didn’t enjoy being interrupted by the woman he loves.”
She couldn’t demure further without raising suspicions. They were hiding the fact that they’d come from Paris, hiding the fact that they weren’t of the working classes, hiding the fact that they weren’t actually married. Heavens, she was tired of hiding things. And she was tired of worrying alone.
Céleste set down the vegetables and rose, wiping her hands on the rag she’d been provided with.
Aldric had just set his load of firewood down on a stack and was turning to make his way back to wherever he’d started from. She stepped into his path and looked up at him with an expression of apology. Except it must not have looked like an apology to him; his brow pulled in concern.
“Something’s upset you.”
In an instant, visions of Paris at war with itself returned vividly to her mind. She stepped closer. Though they were at a distance from the woman and unlikely to be overheard, she didn’t want to risk it.
She dropped her voice. “Our hostess had a friend arrive on the river. He left Paris a day or so after we did.”
He reached out and set his hand on her arm, not looking away.
“It’s worse than when we left. He described it like warfare.” She had to swallow again. It was getting hard to hold back her emotions, but she desperately needed to just then. Explanations could not be offered safely to the family who was helping them.
“Henri and Nicolette are clever and resourceful.” He stepped ever closer and set his other hand on her other arm. “And Nicolette has a great many friends, no doubt more than any of us realize.”
“I am trying to keep my promise not to worry over these things while we’re attempting to keep ourselves safe. But until I know—” She shook her head.
Aldric pulled her into an embrace. The warmth of him was, as always, comforting, but the rest of the experience was disconcerting in a way she was enjoying immensely.
“Until we hear otherwise,” he said, “let’s assume that when things turned particularly bad in Paris, Henri and Nicolette were wise enough to make their escape.”
“And what of Jean-François and Marguerite? I’m not certain they’re wise enough for anything.” She shook her head. “That’s a terrible thing to say. Especially about two people who could very well be in mortal danger.”
“I know you don’t mean it cruelly,” he whispered. “Jean-François might not be as wise as Henri, but he is also, in a turn of strangely fortunate events, something of a coward. I suspect as soon as the army arrived, he departed.”
“And went to Fleur-de-la-Forêt, where people who are hunting him have reduced his home to ashes. And are quite possibly following us.”
She felt him press a kiss to the top of her head. How was it that he could comfort her and send her pulse racing all at once? She didn’t want him to let go, but she knew it would likely be best if he did.
