“She?” Julia smiled. “I am convinced we are soon to welcome another son.”
“We’ll see,” Lucas said with a laugh.
Julia leaned her head against his shoulder. “I wasn’t certain how I would feel about you all conversing with the Marquis de Lafayette, knowing his role in the war with the colonies and how fresh Stanley’s loss feels at times.”
Nicolette reached over and squeezed her friend’s hand. “That is a worry I had when I arrived among you at the house party. Our countries were on the opposite sides of that conflict.”
“But that does not mean that we ought to consider each other enemies,” Julia said. “I think Stanley would have been disappointed in all of us if we had.”
Céleste looked to Aldric, smiling a little. “You told me Stanley wasn’t a saint.”
In near-perfect unison, he, Lucas, and Henri said, “He wasn’t.” And then they laughed. Aldric’s laugh was nearly silent, but it felt as sincere as the others.
Céleste was glad to see him happy. His spirits had been weighed down ever since the gardener at Versailles had brought him the package from his mother. He’d been a little standoffish even before that exchange. He’d been even more so at Norwood.
Heavens, what was the matter with her? Her mind continually puzzled over him, and her heart repeatedly ached, and he was so obviously uninterested. Foolish, foolish, foolish.
“Stanley might not have been a saint,” Julia said, smiling broadly, “but he was the very best of brothers. Everyone should be so fortunate as to have a brother so good and loving and loyal.”
Céleste looked across the carriage at Henri. Did he realize he fit that description? Did he understand how much she loved him?
“When I think of what Pierre Léandre has done to my brother,” Nicolette said, “it is all I can do not to track the man to his hiding place in Paris and throttle him.”
“He isn’t hiding,” Céleste said. “Pierre doesn’t attend as many Society gatherings as he once did; he isn’t as well received. But I still see him at least once a week. And while Marguerite is no more comfortable around him than I am, Jean-François has subtly warmed to him.”
Henri’s brows pulled down just as the corners of his lips did.
Céleste hadn’t spoken her suspicion aloud, but it poured from her in the next moment. “I think our brother might be contemplating a match between Pierre and me.”
“No,” Nicolette whispered anxiously.
“Pierre wishes to repair his standing, and the Fortiers are accepted everywhere. Jean-François wishes to deepen his coffers, and Pierre Léandre is nowa very rich man.” Céleste took a tense breath. “Our brother hasn’t said anything specific, but my misgivings are growing.”
“We won’t let Jean-François do that,” Henri insisted.
A pang of sadness pricked at her heart. “You won’t be here, Henri. None of you will be. This is a battle I will have to fight alone.” An uncomfortable silence settled over the carriage, which hadn’t been her intention. “Now that there is an additional reason for me to leave Paris, beyond my health, I have some hope I’ll be permitted to do so. Pierre never leaves the city. That should help.”
“Perhaps the marquis would be willing to speak to Jean-François,” Julia said.
“Willing, yes,” Nicolette said. “But I don’t know that he will have the opportunity. There is a lot of upheaval just now. The King is meeting with Monsieur Necker today, and Lafayette is concerned that His Majesty will do something foolish. Necker is popular with the people, but his policies have caused division elsewhere in the Assembly. Fears of famine in the countryside have the people on edge. Fears of upheaval in Paris have done the same in the city.”
“Rash action could light the powder keg,” Julia said.
Nicolette nodded. “That is the marquis’s worry.”
Had this been the topic of Nicolette and Henri’s private discussion with the marquis? Odd that Lafayette would discuss matters of political import with two people who no longer made their home in France.
Céleste’s eyes darted to Aldric. He’d said precisely two words during this journey back from Versailles. What were his thoughts on the political upheaval? He was the General, the Gents’ strategist, after all. He didn’t seem to be paying any of them much heed.
They reached their lodgings and alighted, slipping inside the large building and across the foyer to the door of their portion of it. Paris offered places such as this for visiting people of wealth and means. Céleste was grateful for that. It meant Henri could be nearby without being under Jean-François’s thumb.
Aldric unlocked the door, he having been entrusted with the key, and they all stepped inside. Candles had been lit by those servants hired to oversee the lodgings. But why were so many burning before the return of the tenants? A few would have made sense, but not such a large number.
The mystery was solved the moment they stepped into the sitting room. Jean-François stood inside, watching them with a sharp gaze. What was he doing here? This was not his home.
“You have wasted my entire day, Céleste.” He didn’t bother with any greetings.
“How did you get inside?” Aldric at last broke his silence.
