“Monsieur D’Aubert, we have visitors here from England.” Jean-François motioned to Aldric. “Lord Aldric Benick, younger son of the late Duke of Hartley.” He turned to Lucas and Julia. “The Earl and Countess Lampton.” Jean-François spared only a glance for Henri and Nicolette. “My younger brother and his wife, of course.”
“Paris has not been the same without you these past two years, Mme Fortier,” the young gentleman said with a dip of his head.
Nicolette had been quite a significant part of Paris Society before her marriage. She responded with all the grace and acumen a Society darling was taught to possess. “It is such a pleasure to be in Paris again.”
Some of Jean-François’s pride at the introduction ebbed. The visitors he had emphasized were not garnering the most interest from M. D’Aubert.
“It is a shame this evening’s entertainment will not include dancing.” Jean-François spoke too abruptly to be truly graceful. “I know you would enjoy dancing with Céleste again.”
Céleste answered with a wan smile. Yet there wasn’t disapproval or dismissal in her mannerisms, as one would expect if she was simply annoyed at her brother’s awkwardly attempted matchmaking.
“Another time.” M. D’Aubert looked a little disappointed but not entirely downcast.
Marguerite, apparently not fully distracted by her conversation with Julia, jumped in immediately. “There will be a ball in only two days. Simply everyone will be clamoring to dance with our Céleste.” She turned directly to Aldric. “I hope you will dance with her as well.”
“I would be honored if my dear friend’s sister chose to dance with me.” He intentionally emphasized the brotherly connection.
Crofton and Jean-François had made rather obnoxious efforts to toss Aldric and Céleste together during the house party at Norwood Manor two years earlier. With effort, Aldric and Céleste had managed to emerge unscathed and unattached. Aldric intended to do so again.
“Isn’t that thoughtful of him?” Marguerite set a hand on Céleste’s arm, squeezing excitedly. “Such impressively aristocratic manners.”
Céleste managed a hint of a smile. Aldric could tell that, this time, the expression was not weakened exclusively by illness. She, too, had sorted that her family was scheming again.
“I would very much like to sit down, if possible.” She looked to Jean-François. Her expression was not one of someone asking to be accompanied to a place of much-needed rest but, rather, a person seeking permission to obtain it.
Aldric would have objected on behalf of anyone being treated this way. But she was also Henri’s sister, and Henri was his best friend in all the world. He could not simply leave her in misery.
Jean-François gave no indication he meant to grant Céleste the simple request, let alone facilitate it.
As much as Aldric hated that he’d learned how to be presumptuous and dictatorial from his father, those skills did, at times, prove useful. “I will accompany your sister to a comfortable chair.” He held his arm out to her. She set her hand in the crook of his elbow. Wanting to make certain the gesture didn’t cause difficulties later, Aldric didn’t step away immediately but addressed Jean-François once more. “Unless, of course, you have objections to either your sister obtaining rest or to me accompanying her on the short walk.”
M. D’Aubert, as well as a few other people standing nearby, took note of the inquiry and watched with curiosity for the answer. Objecting to Aldric’s offer, after having touted the high connection of his visitors, would undermine the importance Jean-François clearly hoped to gain from their visit. But allowing Céleste to leave with Aldric after he had initially withheld permission would undermine Jean-François’s power over his sister.
What would he choose?
In the end, he simply nodded and motioned for them to take their walk.
Aldric walked slowly. He didn’t know the extent to which Céleste was ill and didn’t wish to push her unnecessarily. And moving more slowly meant he would have more time to observe and talk with her. That was his role in the group’s strategy, after all.
“That was well maneuvered, Aldric,” she said quietly.
“A particular talent of mine,” he said.
“Ah yes. ‘The General, planner of plans and strategizer of strategies.’”
He didn’t always appreciate being teased. But something in the way she approached it in that moment made him inwardly smile.
“Will my efforts to find you a seat mean your brother will be more ... difficult than usual?” he asked. “I am attempting to make things easier for you, not worse, but I don’t yet know where that line is drawn.”
They nodded to people as they passed, allowing the silent acknowledgment to act as a greeting.
“Despite your connection to Henri, Jean-François is enough in awe of you and your family that he will not risk your wrath or disapproval.”
“At least not while I am present.”
She didn’t argue with his theory, which told him he was not incorrect.
“Do we need to convince him to let you join Nicolette and Henri in the group’s lodgings?” Aldric asked. “If it will save you misery—”
