Further, she meant to ask if her niece, Adèle, could return to the countryside with her. The little girl spent nearly every moment of the day away from her parents, ensconced in the nursery with the nursemaids. Though it ached Céleste’s heart to acknowledge the coldness that had grown in her oldest brother over the past years, the sweet, tenderhearted five-year-old girl would not be overly missed by her parents. Her absence might not even be noticed.
“Is it another of those horrid letters?” Marguerite asked in a strained whisper.
“Yes.” Jean-François’s voice matched hers. “And I am growing rather weary.”
“Weary? What you ought to be is worried.”
Céleste turned ever so slightly, just enough to see her brother and sister-in-law out of the corner of her eye without them realizing she was watching them.
“Until this letter writer identifies what I am meant to do in order to end his threats, I refuse to find his blustering anything but bothersome.” Jean-François didn’t look as unconcerned as he was clearly attempting to sound.
What were these threats he had been receiving?
Marguerite leaned enough to read over Jean-François’s shoulder. “I cannot like that he has mentioned your family. That feels ... significant.”
Jean-François folded the letter once more and tucked it into a pocket. “There are people in France just now who take delight in causing consternation. We won’t allow this troublemaker to upend us.”
Marguerite nodded but looked disconcerted.
“We have increased our fortune, and our standing in Society has never been better. These letters are, no doubt, simply the result of resentment.” Jean-François wore a stern expression, but there was worry in his eyes.
A footman stepped into the parlor. “Visitors, monsieur and madame.”
Visitors? Céleste hadn’t heard anyone was expected. Based on the surprise she saw on Jean-François’s and Marguerite’s faces, these visitors were a surprise to them as well.
“Show them in,” Jean-François instructed.
The footman moved aside, clearing the doorway. A golden-haired gentleman walking alongside a lady with a hint of red in her brunette hair stepped into the room. Céleste knew them both on the instant, having met Lord and Lady Lampton during the very house party in England at which she’d struck her bargain with Jean-François.
What had brought them to Paris?
Before she could take more than a step in their direction, another familiar face entered. Familiar. Unexpected. Upending.
Lord Aldric Benick, of all people.
Lord Aldric Benick, who hadn’t been interested at all in her heart when he had managed to capture it years ago. Infuriating man.
Two more arrivals stepped over the threshold.
Céleste pulled in a breath, instantly forgetting her annoyance with Aldric. “Henri!” She rushed across the room and threw her arms around him.
Chapter Four
Céleste very seldom allowed herselfto grow emotional, yet she struggled in that moment. She loved Henri, and she hadn’t seen him in two years. Everything she had endured in that time had been to secure his future and happiness. He meant the world to her, and he was there, hugging her and giving her hope that she would not always be so alone.
“You’re here.” She forcefully swallowed down her emotions. “I can hardly believe it.”
“This is the most enthusiastic reception I’ve ever had from you,abeille.” Henri had used that affectionate pet name for her since she was a little girl.
She looked up at him. “I am always excited to see you.”
“As excited as you are to see Nicolette?”
Céleste was both reluctant to let go of Henri and unspeakably excited to hug her friend, but she did so. “Paris has been miserable without you.”
Marguerite managed to ruin the moment. “Do attempt some decorum, Céleste. We have company.”
“I am greeting our company,” she countered.
