Page 30 of Marrying Bluebeard

I clear my throat. “So. What do you think of our new home?”

Whisper stretches and hops off my lap as she takes dainty steps around the fountain’s rim.

I trail along behind her. “I was thinking I might try fixing up this garden. Assuming I can get my hands on some tools. Perhaps I’ll even ask Bertrand to take me into town to see about purchasing some seeds or…” I glance around the messy space. Is it too late in the season for seeds? Julia started working on her garden months ago. “Flowers that can be replanted?” I sigh. “I suppose my first task will have to be studying up on the whole process, as I haven’t the faintest idea what I’m doing.”

A wail drifts down from the castle, and Whisper freezes in place, fur puffing and tail shooting straight up. I grimace. “You heard that too?” I rub my arms as goose-flesh pricks my skin. “Bertrand says they’re harmless, but the way they go on sometimes…” I shiver. “I haven’t seen them yet, but I’ve barely been outside of the master chambers.” I give Whisper a rueful look. “To be honest, it’s one of the reasons I decided to start my explorations out of doors. I’d rather have Bertrand with me should I happen to stumble upon any of them. Harmless or not.”

Whisper finally relents in her stare down of the castle, allowing me to pick her up and cradle her in my arms as I stroll about the abandoned garden, but she immediately tenses, claws piercing my flesh, when Bertrand’s voice cuts through our companionable silence.

“There you are.”

I turn to find him leaning inside the arched doorway, a crooked smile on his face. There’s a note of relief in his voice that makes me wonder how long he’s been looking for me. I offer him a smile of my own. “Just taking in your luxurious gardens,” I tease, carefully extricating Whisper’s claws from my dress.

“Ah yes. They really do put Madame Gossard’s to shame, do they not?” Bertrand laughs, pushing off the wall. He strolls toward me, and I frown as Whisper hisses in his direction. He pauses. “I see your friend finally found her way here,” he says, giving the cat a friendly smile. “Although she has yet to warm up to her new father.”

Whisper gives him one last hiss before disappearing. My empty arms fall to my sides, and I feel a pang of loneliness at the sudden departure that reminds me of the letter tucked deep inside my pocket. Is my family feeling something similar since I left?

“She’ll come around,” I murmur, pulling the envelope from my dress. As will my siblings, I promise myself, fingering the thick paper. I hold it up. “I wrote to my family this morning, but I’m not sure where to put the outgoing post.”

Bertrand closes the distance between us, plucking the envelope from my hand as he bends down and presses a kiss against my forehead. “Leave it to me. I’ll make sure it’s delivered as soon as possible.”

I lean into his chest, the stress and loneliness I felt earlier drifting away as his strong arms wrap around me. Even the overgrown garden feels lovelier now, a wild beauty shining through the mess. Bertrand’s lips brush my neck, and I tilt my head back with a sigh of pleasure as the world melts away.

All I ever need is this.

20

ADELAIDE

Bertrand spent the rest of the day showing me around the castle—or at least, the sections that were open. The west wing was entirely shut off, as was the North Tower. Bertrand hovered outside the door for a long moment, his hand drifting to his jacket pocket, but in the end he merely checked to make sure it was locked before emphatically reminding me it was off limits.

The mournful wails echoed the loudest behind that door.

Now I toss in my sleep, unable to shake the ghostly keening from my mind. What manner of restless souls reside there? I recall the icy grip of the woman in the lake, her fingers wrapped around my ankle as she pulled me beneath the surface, and shiver. Does the tower hold one of those spirits? One who would see me drawn to a matching fate? I stare at the arched ceiling above the bed, tracing the shadows that dance in the hazy moonlight. If there is, why does everyone aside from Bertrand seem so eager for me to go up there? I roll onto my side, reaching for him, but all I find are rumpled sheets and an abandoned pillow.

“Bertrand?”

I push myself upright, searching the dimly lit space for my missing husband. Candlelight flickers from within the toilettes, so I slip out of bed and pad across the room to tap on the door. “Bertrand? Are you unwell?” There’s no response, so I crack the door open and peek inside—and immediately slap a hand over my mouth to stifle the horrified shriek that erupts from my lungs.

A pale arm ravaged with punctures dangles over the edge of the clawfoot tub, where my husband lies propped up in nothing more than a scrap of undergarments, his head rolling back over the rim as empty eyes stare at the ceiling. Blood trickles from the corners of his mouth.

This isn’t right, isn’t natural.

Every cell in my body is urging me to run, to flee this accursed place and beg my family to take me back.

I made a mistake. I…

My heart aches as I inch closer to the tub, tears streaming down my face.

I married a man who needs me, now more than ever.

“Bertrand?” I let my fingertips whisper across his face, gently stroking his beard as I tilt his head to meet my gaze. The subtle rise and fall of his chest assures me he’s alive, but those eyes refuse to focus as they meet mine. They stare straight through me as if I’m not even here. As if I’m nothing more than an apparition. A ghost.

I smooth a hand over his hair, heart breaking as I whisper, “Bertrand, what have you done to yourself?”

He blinks, a flicker of recognition lighting his eyes, and I latch onto it for all I’m worth, stroking his cheek as I whisper sweet words, words of support and encouragement. Words to let him know I’m here, that he’s not alone. That I love him. He stirs beneath my touch, the clouds gradually clearing from his eyes, and I almost weep with relief when his raspy voice mumbles my name.

“Adelaide?”