I pulled my elbows tightly against my sides and silently cursed my clumsiness. If I hadn’t been so careless, Gabriel’s massive frame would have completely hidden me from view. Maybe if I remained silent, he would just give up and go away.
Gabriel laughed, and said, “Alas, as amusing as that would be, I have only the two. Perhaps the owner of the third elbow will emerge sometime soon.”
I sighed heavily and stepped out from behind Gabriel, glaring at him unhappily before turning to face Auguste. Elodie and Alexandre had moved out of the doorway, allowing him access into the salon. And suddenly there he was, standing right in front of me, just as handsome as ever. His green eyes locked on mine, unwavering in their intensity. I hadn’t seen him since the day I’d been poisoned. It had only been two weeks, but those two weeks without him felt like years.
“Lady Cendrillon,” Auguste said, his deep voice sending a chill running down my spine. “I’m glad to have caught you before you left. You’ve been through quite the ordeal. I wanted to make sure that you were all right. You look well.”
I didn’t look at all well, and I knew it, but he was too kind to let me know if he was alarmed by my pale and weak appearance.
“Thank you. As do you. And please allow me to thank you for your interference with my stepmother, Catherine. Without you, I would not be here now. I owe you a great debt.”
“I would do it all again in a heartbeat. And more. So much more. Perhaps we could take a walk and speak on it? I have something to ask you.”
“All right.” When I realized what I said, and how quickly I said it, I silently cursed my weakness in all matters of Auguste and added, “Just a short chat. We really need to be going.”
“Just a short chat,” he said, looking a little mystified as he extended his arm to me.
I glanced back at my friends for the first time since Auguste had entered the room. Elodie was glancing between me and Alexandre, a worried expression on her face. She wanted to intervene, I could tell—offer to come with us and chaperone, maybe—but she also wanted to stay with Alexandre. I couldn’t separate them, not when Alexandre was still so fragile. I could handle Auguste for a little while.
“You can head back to the carriage, Elodie. I’ll be along shortly,” I said.
“Are you sure? I can come with if you want.”
“No. It’s fine. You stay with Alexandre. I’ll be back before you know it.”
I took Auguste’s arm and let him lead me away.
* * *
“The Orangerie? You’ve brought me to the Orangerie?” I asked as Auguste and I walked down the long, wide white steps.
I hadn’t recognized the path until we made it to the stairs and the orange trees came into view. It had been over a year since I’d been here last, and Elodie, Marius, and I entered through the interior gallery. I’d never used the main entrance before. The grand wrought-iron gates had been locked the last time. They were locked this time, too, but Auguste pulled a large key from an interior pocket in his dark green justaucorps and began to fiddle with the lock.
“Are we supposed to be in here?” I asked skeptically as the lock clicked.
Auguste swung the gates wide open and gestured me inside with a flourish. Despite myself, I smiled at his antics and walked through the gates. The familiar sweet scent of citrus wafted over me, chasing away any lingering hint of roses. I breathed in deeply, letting the calm of the Orangerie fill me up.
I could do this. Hear Auguste out, congratulate him on the upcoming wedding, decline any invitation to his nuptials, and leave. I would have to stay away from court for a while, but that suited me. I was looking forward to saying goodbye to Versailles.
“The Orangerie being off limits never stopped you before,” Auguste said teasingly as he held the door for me.
He closed the gates behind us but left them unlocked. I started walking toward one of the paths that curled through the geometric lawns. The tree branches bowed under the weight of the oranges that glistened under the sunlight. If I could get some fruit out of this outing, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad after all. I even spied a few pomegranates. Elodie would love those.
“I was much more naïve then. I didn’t realize—”
Before I could even finish my sentence, I was spun around and enveloped in strong arms. Auguste pressed me tightly against his chest and buried his face against my neck. I should have shoved him away. I should have told him that this wasn’t appropriate and gone back to the carriage. I should have done anything but grab hold of his waistcoat and burrow closer. But I wanted this just one more time.
“You’re safe. You’re safe,” Auguste whispered, his breath hot against my skin.
“I’m safe. I’m here,” I whispered back.
“When I broke into the château and saw you lying on the floor covered in those awful spots, I thought you were dead. There were so many times over those next few days that you were still far too close to death’s door. I nearly lost my mind with worry. If something had happened to you, I would never have been able to forgive myself.”
“It wasn’t your fault. You saved me. If you hadn’t arrived when you did, I would be dead.”
“Still, I promised to protect you and—”
“No. I’m tired of people blaming themselves for Catherine Monvoisin’s actions. She’s the murderer, not you. You’re a hero. Your father clearly thinks so, too, or he wouldn’t have granted you the dukedom.”
“You heard about that?”
“I heard about that. The Duc de Maine. Like Elodie said, do I call you Your Grace now? Should I even be talking to you? I think I’m too far below you in station. Do you have an extravagant estate?”
Auguste rolled his eyes, but I could see him trying to smother a smile. When he held his arm out to me, I accepted, and we set off down one of the fruit-tree-lined paths. A warm glow burned inside my chest.
“Even if you weren’t allowed to speak to me, that wouldn’t stop you,” he teased. Then his face became more serious. “But I did talk to my father. I told him what was going on between us. I told him he could banish us both and I would accept it, but I hoped he would consider my plan instead.”
“Your plan?”
“My father had been promising me a title and land ever since I was brought to court. I finally told him it was time to live up to his promise. It turns out that’s what he was waiting for all along. He wanted me to demand my own inheritance. That way he knew I was his own son and not a simpering courtier.”
“Fathers are tricky,” I said.
“Yes.” He blushed then. “He told me that my mother—my mother was one of his favorites. The love of his life, he called her. But he could never show that, not at court; it would put her in too much danger. Anyway, as it turns out”—his voice caught a little—“I am his favorite too.”