Page 63 of Marrying Bluebeard

My heart stops at the sight of blue-stained teeth.

No. Dear god, no. Don’t say it.

“…swallowed some of Celeste’s blood.”

Ten simple words and my carefully laid plans are shattered. Because there’s no future in which I’m willing to trap Adelaide in this tower alongside me. “We’ll figure something out,” I assure her, even as my mind scrambles for an answer. For a way out of this disastrous predicament. We could let the monsters roam free. Seek out evil doers and feed off their blood. Perhaps together, we’d have more control. Perhaps…

“Bertrand.”

Adelaide’s voice breaks through my frantic thoughts, and I find her watching me with a hint of fond amusement. Her grin widens at my befuddlement.

“I already know exactly what to do.”

42

EPILOGUE

ADELAIDE

The castle is abuzz with activity as servants flutter about, putting last minute touches on the rooms and making sure the newly-installed electric lights are glowing cheerily in every corridor. I can already see the first of our guests arriving at the bottom of the hill, and I hurry outside to greet them as they climb the steps.

“Marguerite! You came!” I fly into my sister’s arms. “I missed you so much.”

She returns my embrace, her voice wobbly as she whispers, “Don’t you ever run off like that again, do you hear? I was worried half to death.”

I produce a look of contrition as I finally pull away. “I’m sorry, Margie. Truly.”

“I hope you’ve prepared one of those apologies for me,” Julien interjects, his voice gruff with emotion. I allow myself to be pulled into his arms for a brisk, yet surprisingly tight, hug.

“Of course, brother.” I grimace. “I do hope the scandal didn’t hurt your business too terribly much?”

He clears his throat, fingers adjusting his already impeccable necktie. “It survived. Although I’ve likely shaved a few years off my life from the stress of it all.”

“Don’t listen to him, Addie.” Tristan appears at the top of the steps, grinning broadly. “Business has been booming ever since we acquired an anonymous new investor.” He gives me a pointed look. “Anyone you know?”

I smirk, giving him a little shrug. “It’s news to me.”

“I bet.” With a laugh, he scoops me off the ground and whirls me around in a circle. “Missed you, little sis.”

“I’m not sure we can call her little sis anymore,” Darren chimes in as he appears on my other side. “Haven’t you heard? She’s the infamous Madame de Montragoux. Beloved benefactress of the poor and rising radical in the advocation of women’s rights.”

“A bluestocking with hair to match,” Tristan teases, tilting his head as he takes in my colored coiffure.

I tuck a sapphire lock behind my ear with a satisfied smile. I rather like the added highlights. They coordinate perfectly with Bertrand’s own blue streaks that have found their way into the rest of his hair since he took up regular shaving. Speaking of which…

I turn to watch my husband as he strolls down the walk to join us, his gaze fixed firmly on me until I’m tucked comfortably in his arms. Then and only then does he greet my family, shaking hands with my brothers and presenting my sister with a bow. I wait for them to finish their formalities and trot off after the servants carrying the baggage up to the castle before pulling Bertrand to the side.

“You have something for me, I expect?” I lift my head with a coy smile.

“Ah, of course. How remiss of me to forget.” He promptly plants a kiss on my upturned lips.

I poke his ribs, eliciting a chuckle. “That is not what I meant, and you know it.”

“Oh, you mean this,” he laughs, pulling a silver flask from his breast pocket. “My mistake.”

I snatch the flask from his hand. “Such wit, mon amour.”

Bertrand grins as he pulls out a matching flask and unscrews the top. “You’ve been practicing your French. Très Bien.”