“‘Of course not,’” she repeated in a doubtful whisper. “I have been abandoned again and again my entire life, Aldric. There isn’t really, for me, an ‘of course not’ when abandonment is a possibility.”
How was it that he, who was one of the very people who had abandoned her in his own way, had managed to pull that confession from her?
Aldric set his hands on her arms, his touch soft and reassuring. “If you decide you would like to accept the innkeeper’s offer, I will stay at your side and will keep an eye on the inn door and the other patrons for however long we are in the public room.”
“And—” Heavens, this was embarrassing, but she needed one further reassurance. “You’ll be particularly vigilant once it grows dark?”
His gaze turned a little more studying. “Are you afraid of the dark?” The question wasn’t posed with even a hint of mockery.
She had already made one unintended admission; she didn’t intend to make another. But neither did she want to lie. She wasn’t afraid, really.Frustrated and hindered. Rendered more helpless than she preferred. But not truly scared.
“If you’ll keep watch while we’re in the public room,” she said, “then I think we should accept the innkeeper’s offer.”
“You’re certain?” he asked softly.
Céleste nodded. “I’m certain.”
Aldric stepped away. Céleste pressed her lips together to prevent herself from asking him to stay at her side. He scooped Adèle up off the floor, picking up her doll and book as well. Céleste kept hold of her violin.
She would be playing for strangers, in a room that would quickly grow dark, after fleeing her childhood home and the mob that had been marching on it. And they still didn’t know what had happened to the carriage that had been following them.
Céleste had always prided herself on not being easily shaken. But now she felt horribly upended.
I have been abandoned again and again my entire life, Aldric.Céleste’s very matter-of-fact declaration echoed in Aldric’s head as he sat at her side that night. And her specific request that he not abandon her when the room grew dark always followed close after.
There was something in her expression after he’d asked her if she was afraid of the dark that had told him it wasn’t a matter of fear. What, then, made darkness a particular concern for her?
When the innkeeper lit candles after the room had grown excruciatingly dark, Céleste didn’t look relieved. She actively avoided looking in the direction of the candles, and she was noticeably on edge.
Aldric leaned in close to her and whispered, “We can return to our room if you need.”
“We haven’t had our supper yet,” she answered just as quietly.
Knowing they were meant to be giving the impression of being a married couple, he set an arm around her and tucked her up close. It allowed for a more private conversation. While that was his motivation for the arrangement, his heart instantly thrummed with excitement at the nearness.
“A free supper is not worth requiring you to spend time in the dark.”
“I’m notafraidof the dark,” she insisted just as quietly. “It makes me uncomfortable, is all.”
“You have endured quite enough already, and not just today. You shouldn’t have to endure more.”
Céleste turned to look at him, placing them a breath apart. Her brown eyes were nearly black in the candlelit room. The flicker of flames danced over her face, rendering her already beautiful features absolutely breathtaking.
“You promised you wouldn’t abandon me here,” she whispered.
“And I won’t; I swear to you.”
“Then I’m not nervous about remaining.”
He was the trusted strategist among the Gents. He had a reputation even beyond that small circle for being a person of dependability, capability, and authority. But Céleste Fortier’s unwavering faith in him in that moment was both a little surprising and a source of tremendous pride. And the continued nearness of her lips was a source of unexpected temptation.
“Play more music!” Adèle tugged on the skirt of Céleste’s blue dress.
The spell was broken, and not a moment too soon.
Céleste resumed playing her violin. The others staying at the inn, a few men who appeared to be traveling alone as well as two other couples, requested tunes and hummed and clapped along while she played.
Adèle spun about, just as she’d done in their room earlier. The child of a young family danced alongside her, the two children giggling with each other. Adèle now and then ran back over to Aldric, asking him what he thought of her dancing. And when he told her that she danced beautifully, she smiled ever more broadly.
