She nodded.
“Do you think your aunt enjoyed our adventure?” he asked.
“She was crying last night,” Adèle whispered.
Céleste had held back her tears throughout their conversation. Had she finally let those tears flow? And had the release been relieving or simply more heartrending?
“I was sleeping,” Adèle continued, “and I woke up, and she was crying.”
It was likely for the best that they always discussed their situation in English, even when Adèle appeared to be sleeping or not paying attention. She saw and heard more than she seemed to.
“I think your aunt is tired,” Aldric said. “She was very sleepy last night.”
Adèle twisted a little in his arms, looking back at Céleste, still sleeping.
“We should let her sleep,” Adèle said. “Then she won’t be so tired.”
“A very thoughtful thing to do,” he said.
Adèle smiled sweetly and a little shyly.
“I can sit by you,” she said. “You can make the horse go. Tante Céleste can sleep.”
“An excellent notion,ma petite douce.”
Aldric saw to the various preparations that needed to be made, ensuring everything was in order and prepared for another day’s journey. He and Adèle had a quick breakfast. He helped the little girl attend to all her various needs before helping her onto the wagon bench next to him and setting off down the road once more.
“This horse is not Monsieur Aldric,” Adèle said a few minutes into their journey.
“Monsieur Aldric decided to stay at the inn. I suspect he made a friend in the stable.”
That explanation seemed to both satisfy and please her. “Doesthishorse have a name?”
“If she does, I don’t know what it is.”
“It’s a girl horse?” Adèle asked.
“It is.”
He glanced at her quickly and saw a look of intense concentration pull at her sweet little face. “I will think of a name for her,” she said.
They continued on down the road. The wagon jerked and lurched in the many ruts. Despite all of that, Céleste continued to sleep. The feeling of gratitude he’d had at knowing she was resting began to give way to concern. To be sleeping as deeply as she was on a road in such a state, she must have been beyond exhausted.
They were pushing too hard. She had feigned her illness in Paris, but she would be legitimately ill if they weren’t careful.
But they couldn’t risk drawing attention or allowing their pursuers to catch up to them. Once in England, she could sleep for months if she needed. He’d make certain she wasn’t bothered or disturbed. He and Adèle would name all the horses they could find and tell each other stories and plant flowers all over Norwood while they waited for Céleste to recuperate.
He shook that thought off as soon as he had it. Though he’d come to love this little girl much the way he imagined he would a child of his own, she wasn’t his to claim. And allowing himself to dream of a family was an inarguable mistake.
Benicks ruined families. It was the truth he had known the longest.
“We should call the horseBouton d’Or.” Adèle made the declaration with a firm nod.
Though Aldrich would never have guessed that would be her suggestion, the moment she made it, he knew she would never have suggested anything else. The little girl was obsessed with flowers. “Do you know whatbouton d’oris called in English?”
She shook her head, watching him anxiously.
“Buttercup,” he said.
