Fortunately, there was a large meadow just off the side of the road a bit ahead. Céleste guided the horse to the edge of it and brought the cart to a stop. Aldric climbed down, then reached back up for Adèle. She bounced a little on the bench. Aldric lowered her to the ground, then turned back to hand down Céleste.
“I suspect you have very little time before Adèle is in dire straits.”
Céleste brushed her fingers over his jaw. “You are very sweet with her, Aldric. Thank you.”
She took Adèle’s hand and walked with her away from the cart and road. Just walked casually away, as if her tender and fleeting touch hadn’t sent his pulse pounding through him.
Henri’s sister, he reminded himself firmly. And somehow, it didn’t have the dampening effect he’d hoped. The remembered feel of her touch simply lingered.
He hadn’t entirely pulled himself together before Céleste and Adèle returned. He’d laid out a blanket and a bit of bread and cheese, and he thought he gave the impression of not being entirely upended.
Adèle dropped onto her stomach and took up her carved animals, her little feet kicking in the air. Céleste chose to sit directly beside Aldric, undermining his equilibrium once more.
Henri’s sister.
He set his focus on getting Adèle her bread and cheese. But she wasn’t distracted by it. She simply continued playing as she ate.
“Are we going home?” she asked.
Aldric didn’t want to worry her, but he also didn’t want to be dishonest. That they weren’t returning to Fleur-de-la-Forêt would be obvious soon enough.
“We are going to the home that was my mother’s,” he said. “There are a great many flowers there.”
Adèle’s love of flowers had been well established during the drive from Paris.
“Does your mother like flowers?” Adèle asked, making her wooden dog jump on the blanket.
“She adored flowers. I think she would have liked talking to you about flowers.”
“I like purple flowers.” Adèle launched into the topic with fervor, regaling Aldric with descriptions of all her favorite flowers.
Céleste ate her bread and cheese, watching the little girl with a heartbreaking fondness. Aldric had seen how much she longed for her niece to feel more of an attachment to her. Why the girl felt that attachment forhimhe couldn’t say.
During a brief pause in Adèle’s discussion, Céleste leaned closer—he told his heart to calm down—and whispered to him, “You look pensive.”
“I am trying to decide whether this area looks familiar.” It was true, simply not the entirety of what was on his mind.
“Is it familiar?”
“Unfortunately, no. We are as far from my mother’s home as I feared we were.”
“We really will be traveling for another two or three days, then?”
He set his hand tentatively on hers. “I can drive for the next portion of our travels so you can rest.”
“You have slept on floors and in chairs. You need rest more than I do.”
He laughed a little. “Are you offering to sleep on the floor tonight?”
“Actually, yes.” Her fingers folded over his. “If we can trade driving duties, surely we can alternate who has the comfortable position for the night.”
“Does your mother’s home have any red flowers?” Adèle asked.
“Oh yes,” Aldric said, careful not to move his hand so Céleste wouldn’t pull back.
“I like red flowers.” Adèle began playing with her carved horse.
“We should probably be on our way soon.” Céleste stood, pulling her hand free of his.
