Page 6 of Marrying Bluebeard

Or so I like to pretend. The farce keeps me sane.

I maneuver Lancelot around as Lord Harrison mounts his own horse, and soon we’re on our way, crossing the sprawling green field and passing the lake with its mirrored surface. The sun isn’t hot enough to make me sweat yet, but I enjoy the breeze as it cools my cheeks all the same. Lifting my face, I breathe it all in. There’s a flash of blue in my periphery, and I glance to my left to find Monsieur de Montragoux watching me as he rides a few horses over. I grin, tossing my dark curls as I face forward and dig in my heels.

“Last one to the abbey is a stinky peacock.”

Lord Harrison laughs as he chases after me, but it’s the low chuckle that I know without looking belongs to him that sends me flying.

5

ADELAIDE

The grounds around the abbey are laid out with blankets and a long table has been filled to the brim with meats, cheeses, fruits, nuts, and tiny, crustless sandwiches. Servants pass around fluted glasses of lemonade, and I take one gratefully, cheeks flushed from the ride. Thank goodness the carriages have yet to arrive, as Julien would have been apoplectic at the sight of me galloping in. (Never mind that I was in first place, with Monsieur de Montragoux only a beat behind.)

“Shall we?” Lord Harrison offers me his arm as he nods toward the buffet table, and I can’t think of a good reason to refuse. Honestly, I am hungry, and the other gentlemen are already lining up along with the handful of ladies who chose to ride. All except one, that is. I notice Monsieur de Montragoux has taken refuge under a nearby tree, where he sips from a silver flask. I wonder what he’s drinking. Julien favors port, while Tristan and Darren prefer whiskey. I, myself, have only been allowed to have wine, and watered-down wine at that. I imagine Monsieur de Montragoux drinks something daring, like absinthe.

I wonder if he’d offer me a taste, should I be bold enough to ask.

Lord Harrison insists on filling a plate for me, despite the fact that I tell him I’m more than capable of carrying two things at a time. It should annoy me, but he’s so sweet and sincere that I allow it. Fortunately, he listens when I tell him what I do and don’t like, and I find myself with a satisfactory spread by the time we settle onto a nearby blanket.

Just in time for the carriages to arrive.

Julien helps Marguerite and Aunt Charlotte out of the first one, his eyes seeking me out with uncanny precision. I resist the urge to smooth my hair, praying I’ve done an adequate job of fixing the errant strands after the ride. Of course, if either Tristan or Darren decide to open their big mouths about my less-than-ladylike performance, it’ll be a wasted effort.

“Not a hair out of place. He’ll never know,” Lord Harrison whispers, winking when I throw him a startled look. He sips his lemonade, looking pleased at having figured me out.

I laugh, lifting my own glass. “Here’s to keeping it that way.”

“My lips are sealed.”

Julien and Marguerite soon join us at our blanket, and the conversation turns to politics, and more importantly, how some upcoming changes will affect the business scene. I tune them out, allowing my gaze to roam over the ruins. A large portion of the abbey remains intact, and I’m not at all surprised to see a wisp of white slide past one of the upper windows. A place like this is bound to have its share of ghosts.

“Has anyone told you the story behind this place?” Lord Harrison asks, taking me by surprise. I turn to see Julien has wandered off to chat with Lord Hefner. Typical.

“No.” I look back up at the crumbling stone building. “I take it you’re familiar with it?”

“I’ve heard a few versions over the years.” He sets his glass aside as he stands and offers me his hand. “It’s a story best told while exploring the area in question,” he adds, a challenge in his eyes. “Unless, of course, you’re afraid it’s haunted?”

I know it’s haunted. “Are you sure it’s safe?” I eye the structure doubtfully.

“Perfectly safe,” he insists. “I grew up not too far from here, and sneaking into the abbey at night was basically a rite of passage for any boy under the age of twelve.”

“I suppose…” I allow him to help me up, eyes fixed on the window where I’d seen the ghost pass by. Would it be insulted by our presence? Or pleased? I certainly wasn’t looking to offend any lingering spirits.

Marguerite catches my wrist, her voice low as she whispers, “You can’t go in there alone, Adelaide. It wouldn’t be proper.”

Aha! An out. “Come with us, then,” I suggest, knowing she’ll decline. I’m not sure I particularly want to go, either.

She bites her lip, glancing at Lord Harrison as he waits patiently to the side. Her expression takes a determined slant, and I bite back a groan. Of course, she grows a backbone now of all times. She must really want to see me with Lord Harrison if she’s willing to traipse through creepy old ruins with us. “All right.” She brushes the wrinkles free of her skirt as she rises. “I will.”

Drat. Looks like I’ll have to be the one to back out after all. I hate looking weak, but waltzing through a sea of spirits who may or may not be malevolent is far less appealing. I try to come up with a good excuse not to go when a voice behind my shoulder interrupts my thoughts.

“I couldn’t help but overhear the three of you planning to explore the ruins. Do you mind if I join you?”

My heart stutters at the smooth baritone, delicious shivers running down my back. It’s him.

“Not at all.” Lord Harrison grins amicably at the man looming behind me. “The more the merrier.” He holds out his arm for me, and I bite back a frown as I take it with trembling fingers. I don’t dare turn my head to look at Monsieur de Montragoux for fear my cheeks are as flushed as they feel. What is this effect he has on me? I swallow. I can’t explain it, but I don’t entirely hate it, either. It’s—my lips curve into a slow smile—rather thrilling, actually.

I hold my breath as he moves past, the sleeve of his jacket brushing my arm. I lift my gaze as he steps in front of Marguerite and crooks his elbow. After a moment of hesitation, she takes it.