Page 18 of Marrying Bluebeard

“I’ll take that as a no.” I twist to fasten the last few buttons of my pale blue dress. A white sash accentuates my waist, and I tie it into a bow in the back before performing a hasty assessment in the mirror. “A bit too casual for dinner, but I can always change.” Right now I need the comfort of simplicity.

Blowing a kiss in Whisper’s direction, I slip out the door and make my way down to the orangery. I pause before each corner, listening for the sound of voices, but it seems everyone is either still in the garden or otherwise occupied. Aside from a few passing servants, the house is relatively silent. That is, until I reach the orangery doors. Childish giggles drift through the solid wood, accompanied by the deep rumble of male laughter. My heart trips into double time.

He’s here.

I press my fingers against the door, not quite pushing them open as I linger, listening to Bertrand’s voice blend with Jenny’s in the most beautiful way. Until now, he’s been dark and mysterious with a tragic edge that makes me want to draw him in and tease that elusive glimmer of light into his eyes. To rain kisses down his neck and chest until the only word on his lips is my name. No thought to the future, just pure, unadulterated passion.

This feels different.

It feels real.

I crack the doors open and peek inside, a smile tugging at my lips as I spy the pair of them. Bertrand is turning a long rope, the other end of which has been secured to the back of a chair, and Jenny is jumping in the middle. I cover my mouth to keep a laugh from slipping free as her pale feet pass straight through the rope’s length.

“That’s cheating,” Bertrand laughs.

Jenny pokes out her tongue. “You’re just mad because I’ve beaten your count.”

“Only because you’re cheating.”

“It’s your word against mine, and I—Adelaide!” Jenny’s face breaks into a grin as she catches me watching them. She floats across the room and throws her arms around me. I can only just feel them, like the brush of silk against bare skin, but I do my best to return the embrace with equal enthusiasm.

“You two look to be having fun.” I glance over Jenny’s shoulder to where Bertrand is standing, the skipping rope dangling from his fingers. His necktie has been loosened significantly, the sleeves of his white shirt rolled up to the elbows. A smile plays across his lips as our eyes meet.

“If by fun, you mean getting trounced by this little cheater here, then yes. We’re having heaps of fun.”

“Don’t listen to him,” Jenny says, relinquishing her hold on me as she floats back toward Bertrand. “He’s just upset because I’m so light on my feet.”

I glance down to where she hovers a good three inches off the floor. “I can see that.”

Jenny wiggles her feet with a cheeky grin, and cranes her neck to peer behind me. “Did you bring Whisper with you today?”

“Sorry, but when I left she looked to be settling in for a long nap. I can try calling her, but I doubt she’ll come.”

Jenny’s mouth puckers into a moue of disappointment. “Oh.”

“You could go to my room and curl up with her, if you like,” I offer.

She’s instantly brighter. “You wouldn’t mind?”

“Not at all.”

“Thank you!” She disappears with a squeal of excitement, and I turn to Bertrand with a wry grin.

“It would seem my cat has outranked me.”

“If it’s any consolation, I find your company far preferable to that of your feline companion.”

“I’d be flattered if you hadn’t already disclosed your dislike for the animals the last time we were in this room.”

“I don’t believe I said anything of the sort. They’re the ones who are wary of me, not the other way around.” His voice drops low enough to send delicious tingles down my spine. “Clever beasts.”

There’s a hint of warning in his gaze that makes me hesitate, glancing back at the open doors. Propriety would demand I make my excuses and leave before anyone catches us here unchaperoned but chatting in a brightly lit orangery feels tame compared to Aunt Charlotte’s game of hide-and-seek. And goodness knows I’ve given enough of myself over to the expectations of others. Surely, I’ve earned a few moments of intrigue.

I tilt my head, lips curving into a teasing smirk. “Are all the gentlemen in France skipping rope these days?”

“Oh yes,” Bertrand replies, playing along with an amused sparkle in his eyes. “All of the most fashionable gentlemen’s clubs are doing it. Marbles too. Very popular among the upper crust.”

“And here I thought those places were full of stuffed shirts and arrogant bores. I appreciate the insight.”