He tested the blanket he’d laid flat to dry earlier. It was still a little damp.
“I can share Adèle’s blanket,” Céleste said. “Then you can use the one I currently have.”
“This one will be dry soon. In the meantime, I’ll keep my coat on.”
Céleste sat on her side of the wagon bed. Her hair had been plaited loosely. The blanket wrapped around her only added to the excessively familiar feel of their arrangement. He would absolutely need to send word to Fairfield the moment they reached England so Niles and Penelope could reach Norwood as soon as possible. If word of this arrangement ever reached the ears of Society in either France or England, they’d both be ruined. No matter that it was necessary, no matter that they had done everything possible to maintain what degree of propriety could be clung to; it wouldn’t be enough to satisfy the perfection Society demanded.
And having the Greenberrys there might be enough to convince Céleste to stay for a while.
Aldric leaned against the wall of his side of the wagon bed, trying to shake off the melancholy hope that seemed to have lodged so fully in his heart. He wanted what he’d been granted such a fleeting glimpse of but wasn’t sure how to claim it. He wasn’t sure he even had the right to imagine it. Céleste trusted him, and they’d worked well together, but when she’d spoken of what her future was likely to be, she’d mentioned finding a position to support herself in England or returning to France.
She’d not even hinted at staying with him. And kissing him hadn’t seemed to turn her thoughts in that direction. He would do well to keep that in mind.
He tucked his chilled hands into his coat pockets. His fingers brushed against his mother’s parcel. In what had become almost habit, he took it out and, as he always did, studied it. It never changed, and yet something in him seemed to expect it to.
“You must think me rather foolish, or rather cowardly, not to have been able to open this yet,” he said, knowing Céleste was aware of what he was doing.
“It is a significant thing, having someone you love offer you something long after you think you’ve lost them. That’s not an experience anyone can be prepared for, nor have an established strategy for. That it’s taking you some time to sort it out is understandable.”
His brow furrowed. “Perhaps it’s time I found out what she gave me.” The words emerged somehow as a sigh.
He looked at Céleste, bracing himself for pity. When, instead, she gave him a pointed look of mingled encouragement and slightly feigned impatience, he actually smiled. He’d made the suggestion only halfheartedly. Buthe unexpectedly found himself ready to follow through with it. She was working miracles for him.
Miracles.Stanley would have approved of that.
Aldric’s fingers trembled a little as he tugged at the twine and untied the knot. He folded back the parchment, one side at a time, with painstaking movements. Even having decided to move forward and be brave, he couldn’t seem to do so without hesitation.
Inside the parcel was another smaller parcel, wrapped in burlap. On top of it was a note. He carefully rested the smaller parcel on his lap and unfolded the note.
I cannot imagine you have been properly provided for. Your subsequent dependence on Crofton will be used against you. I know it will be.
This is not sentimental, nor did it belong to my family. There is nothing about it that should make it special to you, as it was not overly special to me. I am offering it to you for only one reason: it is extremely valuable. It will fetch you a price high enough to—I hate that this is the word I need to use—“purchase” your freedom.
I love you, my Aldric. Never doubt that.
I love you.
Mother
His eyes hovered onMother. She had been the very best of women, but more than that, she’d been the most incredible mother. Oh, how he missed her.
He very carefully placed the note atop the bag at Adèle’s feet. The little girl was sleeping soundly.
Having opened the outer layer of Mother’s offering, he found opening the interior parcel was easy. He untied it and pulled back the burlap. What he found inside made him gasp.
“Mercy,” Céleste whispered.
It was a necklace of exquisite gems inlaid in gold. He was no jeweler and couldn’t place a price on it in that moment, but even the most ignorant of people would look at this and know that he was holding a small fortune.
“She’s funding my freedom from Crofton.” While he had some guaranteed income from their father’s estate and had, by their late father, been given the use of Norwood Manor, there was still a dependency there. Withthis tucked into the safe at Norwood, he would always have a contingency plan. How had she kept the existence of such a piece from Father? It would have been taken from her, no doubt. But she had safeguarded it until Aldric needed it and his father couldn’t steal it.
“She wrote that she loves you,” Céleste said quietly, glancing at the face-up note.
He rewrapped the necklace, tying the twine again. Even years after losing her, his mother was still looking out for him. “She told me that often.” He set the burlap-wrapped parcel inside the portmanteau. “I think she knew my father didn’t even really like me and wanted me to know that she loved me.”
“I wonder if my mother ever said that to me.” A little tear hovered in the corner of her eye. “My father never did.”
How Aldric wished he were permitted, by any degree of understanding between them and by the rules of propriety, to reach across for her and hold her. “Did anyone ever tell you that they loved you?”
