“That was a feat of science. Controlled fun. Fun should be subject to rules more often.”
Lucas pretended to be confused. “I thought Kes was supposed to be the one who turned every lark into an intellectual discussion.”
“It is the tone that sets us apart,” Aldric said. “He grumbles. I expound.”
Henri’s laugh pulled a smile from Aldric. His connection to Henri was even deeper than the rest. They both had roots in France, difficult fathers, and mothers they’d lost far too young. They both still had older brothers who made their lives miserable on a regular basis. Henri knew what it was to struggle with family. But Henri had a sister he loved, who loved him. He had a bit of family that wasn’t broken.
“We’ll be a little snug during the journey to Paris,” Aldric said. “But if we can endure each other’s company in such tight quarters without anyone resorting to murder, journeying together will be a good approach for all of us.”
“The General approves,” Lucas said. His gaze shifted to Nicolette. “What aboutLe Capitaine?”
Still speaking in French, Nicolette said, “I approve as well. The plan is rather ingenious.”
Henri looked to Julia. “What of our actual genius?”
“Undertaking a journey together?” Julia beamed. “I would like nothing better.”
Quick as that, Aldric was poised to fulfill a promise to his beloved and much-mourned mother, and soon enough, he could make good on the promise Stanley had made to him: leaving the Gents before he ruined them.
Chapter Three
Paris, July 1789
There was nothing Céleste Fortiercould imagine wanting more than to be hundreds of miles from her family. Those who were in Paris, leastwise. In Paris and over the age of five. That narrowed the list to only two horrible Fortiers, but those two were plenty.
“You could have been more attentive toward Mme D’Aubert. Her son is the perfect age for you.” Marguerite, Céleste’s generally well-meaning but overbearing sister-in-law, hadn’t veered from the topic of the younger Monsieur D’Aubert through the entire carriage ride back to their Paris home. Finding Céleste a husband had been a significant part of her brother Jean-François and Marguerite’s focus for nearly two years. And she had been too trapped to escape those machinations.
But Céleste had been working on a plan, one she was nearly ready to put into action. She simply needed to tread carefully until then.
“Mme D’Aubert’s son was not present,” she said. “You needn’t worry that I didn’t show him enough attention.”
Marguerite was undeterred. “Make no mistake, Céleste. Of all a gentleman’s family, it is the mother’s opinion that matters most.”
Precisely the reason Céleste never offered any encouragement to any of the mothers in Paris with eligible sons. It was a delicate dance though. So much of her life was controlled by her brother that she had to be careful not to reveal to him that she was intentionally undermining her family’s efforts.
“I do not think I made a poor impression on Mme D’Aubert,” she said as the carriage stopped in front of their home. “Even if she thought me a bit too quiet today, she did not seem displeased with me.”
Marguerite pondered that as they alighted onto the pavement. Céleste wasn’t worried that her reassurance wouldn’t work. She had done this countless times before.
By the time they had been divested of their outerwear and had climbed the stairs, aiming for the parlor where they generally spent their afternoons, Marguerite’s expression had settled into one of contentment. She rested her hand briefly on her abdomen, a stance she’d begun assuming of late, though Céleste didn’t think her sister-in-law realized she was doing so. She’d donethe same during the early days of her pregnancy with Adèle. Though neither she nor Jean-François had told Céleste directly, she felt certain she would have another niece or a nephew in a few months’ time.
“Mme Lapointe will be at tonight’s gathering,” Marguerite said. “She is worth continuing to make a good impression on as well. Her son is only a couple of years younger than you are.”
From inside the parlor, Céleste’s brother offered his commentary. “At this point, Céleste is old enough that nearly all the unattached gentlemen are years younger than she is. It is a miracle Monsieur D’Aubert has shown any interest at all, he being a couple of years her junior.”
It was not only unfair; it was untrue. Most men of their station didn’t marry until they were near to thirty or even beyond. Céleste was only just twenty-five. Still, she knew Jean-François was frustrated with her unmarried status, and she’d learned over the past two years how miserable he could make things for her if he chose to.
Ignoring the barb, she spoke to Marguerite instead. “How long do you suppose we will be at the soiree this evening?”
“For its entirety.” Her sister-in-law looked horrified at the mere hint that they might cut their participation short.
Céleste had fully anticipated that answer; she was counting on it, in fact. “That is likely to be hours.” She slowly lowered herself into a chair. “Do you suppose Mme Lapointe will object if I choose not to stand throughout the gathering?”
“She is too gracious a hostess to object.” Marguerite eyed Céleste with the confusion she so often did. “But, my dearest sister, standing flatters your figure so much more than sitting. Surely you could summon the fortitude to remain on your feet. We are attempting to capture some gentleman’s eye, after all.”
“I suppose I could manage to stand throughout.” Céleste rendered her voice a little weak but not so much as to draw undue notice. “It will indeed last for hours?”
Jean-François crossed to her, eyeing her with more curiosity than suspicion this time. Her months-long efforts were beginning to pay off. “You grew weary last evening as well, and far sooner than I would have expected.”
