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He slipped it onto the little finger of Fiona’s right hand. She looked down at it, shaking her head slightly. “I’d never have dreamed—”

“Bonjour.”

Armand stiffened and his smile froze.

“Sam!” Fiona brushed between the Gamaches to embrace her brother. “Thank you for coming.”

“Are you kidding? Miss this? Never. I’m so proud of you. First person in our family to go to university, never mind graduate. You definitely got the brains.”

“While you got the rugged good looks,” she said with a laugh.

It was a running joke between the siblings. Though, as Reine-Marie watched, she recognized it was true. She’d met this young man only once before and had liked him. She suspected most people would.

Except her husband. It went beyond not liking, into a territory she’d rarely seen with Armand. She’d asked him once about it, about Sam Arsenault, but he’d just frowned and shrugged and said he couldn’t explain it.

She thought he meant that he wouldn’t explain it.

Still, she didn’t press. It didn’t matter. The young man had no place in their lives. Unlike his sister.

Sam embraced Fiona again, holding her tight. “I’ve missed you. Missed this.” Then he turned to the other two. “Madame Gamache. Chief Inspector.”

“Sam.”

There was no question of a handshake.

Armand held the young man’s eyes. While he’d kept tabs on Sam Arsenault, he hadn’t actually seen him in years. The boy had grown into a man. He was tall. Almost as tall as Armand. He’d filled out, grown fit.

But his eyes had not changed. They were remarkable. Clear, bright, a bluey green. They sparked with intelligence and warmth and good humor.

But, Armand knew, if he held them long enough, really looked, he’d eventually see it. The flecks on the irises. The dark spots where the real Samuel Arsenault hid.

But what Armand would always recognize was intangible, invisible. If he were blindfolded and Sam Arsenault walked into the room, Armand would know it.

“Excusez-moi,” he said, breaking eye contact.

He and Reine-Marie began to walk away when Sam called after them. “I’ll see you there.”

Armand stopped, paused, then turned. “Where?”

“Didn’t Fiona tell you? I’m coming down to Three Pines too. I’ve made a reservation at the B&B.” He smiled at Gamache. “It’s gonna be fun.”

“You all right?” Nathalie Provost asked a few minutes later. “You look tense.”

Armand’s smile was tight. “I was coming over to ask how you were feeling,” he said, deflecting the question. “It was a beautiful ceremony. But emotional, I know.”

“Oui. Always is. In a good way too.”

“Thank you for what you did for Fiona. I know it added an extra stress.”

Nathalie didn’t answer. Her eyes were locked on the young man standing with Fiona Arsenault. She wasn’t the only one watching him. Almost all the female grads, and their sisters, and their mothers, and more than a few of the men had at least glanced over. Some were openly staring.

“Who’s that?” Nathalie asked.

“Her brother,” said Reine-Marie. “Sam.”

Nathalie nodded, examining him. “Attractive.”

Though she looked anything but attracted. Her brows were drawn together. And she’d taken half a step back.