The Duke watched Alex for a moment. “Yes, Emily,” he began. “She surprised me.”
“She surprised us all,” said Alex.
He continued. “Her husband, Etienne du Ponce, will no longer be a Marquis. He has lost that privilege and responsibility.” He put his hand on Alex’s shoulder. “But his wife, Emily. She will retain the title. In her own right. I would like to see what she does with it.”
Philippe and Alex looked at each other. They grinned.
“I am happy to hear that,” Alex said.
“I am too,” Philippe agreed. “I think she is good for the task.”
Guillaume grunted a nod and with that, movement started immediately. Philippe reached out to take Alex’s hand. Guillaume lost himself in the crowd, organizing where prisoners would be taken and where the men would need to debrief before going to their homes. The attendants buzzed, ready to take care of all the additions to the palace.
Laure approached Michel. She linked her arm through his. “Michel. Michel my dear,” she said.
“Yes, Mother,” he replied.
“I am happy for this outcome. I am.”
“I, as well,” he said. “I believe Father acted quite fairly.”
“Don’t discount your influence on him. He trusts your opinion and recognizes your talent in such matters. Besides, these will be all your decisions one day.” She sighed, content, as they continued the walk back to the front doors. “You know,” she began, “we shall be planning your younger brother’s wedding. And once that is finished, we must turn our focus to finding you a bride. And then after you, the much greater task of finding one for your other brother.”
“I am happy as I am. I will take a wife when it suits Chevalerie.”
“Ah, don’t be so sure some young coquette won’t catch your attention. You can’t plan for everything, you know.” Up ahead, Philippe struggled to keep his arm around Alex as attendants attacked them from both ends. Soon enough they were pulled apart, Alex being directed towards her room and Philippe to his. Philippe waved to her as he was led away. “You see that fool up there,” Laure continued. “It will be you soon enough,” she laughed. “It just takes the right girl.”
Chapter Forty-One
That evening, after dinner, Philippe waited for Alex under a large sycamore tree in the East Garden. It was a place where they had played many times as children, way back when Alex first took to the sword. He had wanted to find a space where they could be alone, now that he feared he would have no time with her until the wedding. He had seen her not long ago in the dining room where they officially announced their engagement, and through the course of dinner it was decided that their wedding would happen in two weeks’ time. His mother was already frantic, calling out a long list of everyone who needed to be notified and invited to the staff. His father lost interest in wedding plans and began discussing ideas for the newly establishedVallée de la Rivièrewith Michel and Giroux, but all Philippe could do was stare at his lovely fiancé, across from him in a shimmering silver gown and wearing a smile more beautiful than the stars.
As he waited for her in the garden at their designated meeting spot, he began to feel uneasy. He wanted her in his arms; he wanted her close, without any hesitation. He wanted to be married before she could get away from him again. He began pacing back and forth, across the grass, staring impatiently at the path to the palace. What if she changed her mind? It wouldn’t be the first time she decided to run away.
Just as he started to get worked up, he saw her floating towards him. She was a dream in her gown. The vision went in through his eyes and trilled out through his limbs. She was his woman, he thought, and there was only her.
In front of her, she was carrying a basket. As she came closer, he realized what she had, and it made him drop his head with laughter. He looked back up, anxiously waiting, and he watched as she picked up speed to jog to him, but Alex, not used to the dress, struggled to grip the panels of her skirts while holding the basket in front of her. Just before she reached him, she stumbled, tripping over the long fabric of the dress she wasn’t used to controlling. She pitched forward and dumped a basket full of peaches all over him.
“Philippe!” she cried. “I’m so sorry!” She laughed. She dropped to her knees in the grass and grabbed at the fallen fruit. “But look what I found in the kitchen! Do you remember when your father brought these home from his travels years ago? I haven’t tasted one since.”
Philippe laughed as he helped her to gather the peaches rolling away from them. He went to his knees before her, and together, they put the fruit in the basket. “Of course, I remember,” he said, grinning. He reached out to grab the last one and drop it in the basket. “Come,” he said, standing and helping her up. “Sit with me here.”
He led her to the base of the tree. They were perched high on a hill that looked down over all of Chevalerie. The stars twinkled in the sky while the fires and lamps from the city winked below them. He sat down and leaned against the tree, pulling Alex down into his arms.
“Is it strange to be here?” he asked.
“Some of my happiest memories are from this very spot. I am very glad to be back in Chevalerie.” She shifted to put her head against his shoulder. “Though I feel I may miss the activity I am used to.”
“We will find a solution,” he replied. “I don’t want you to get bored.”
“I have a feeling you will keep me entertained,” she said. “But,” she continued, “do you know who I spoke with today?”
“Tell me,” he said. He ran his finger over her lips and down her neck.
“MonsieurPerreault,” she said. “Our teacher.”
“He always enjoyed you,” Philippe said. “Except for the day of the tournament.”
“Well, yes,” Alex said. “But Philippe, listen. He is getting older now andhas expressed the desire to take on an apprentice.” She angled her head to look at him.
