role in her recovery."
Thomas lay back on his pillow. "I hate to say it, but all the signs point to one of your notorious plans."
"How well you know me!" she teased. "We must think of Micheline. You and I have everything that she does not, and a whole lifetime ahead of us in which to enjoy our blessings."
"And how do you propose to obtain our sort of blessings for Micheline?"
"Fontainebleau is the remedy!"
At this St. Briac gave her an incredulous stare. "Fontainebleau?! Surely you jest! A few months at court are more apt to corrupt than bless the unspoiled Micheline!"
"Not if we are there to watch over her!" She leaned toward him excitedly. "She is not ready to think of marriage yet. All I really want for her is to live again! At Fontainebleau, she is bound to feel a spark of interest. You don't understand how desperately melancholy Micheline has been since Bernard's death. She thinks her life is over!"
"Nonsense."
"I know you have not forgotten what we suffered after little Justin's death. Unspeakable grief! But at least we had each other. If we do nothing to help our friend, who knows how long it will take before something or someone comes along to make her take an interest in life again?"
She had said the one thing that could make his heart clench in empathy. "You're determined about this, aren't you?"
A tide of love swept over her as she heard the surrender in his voice. Wrapping her arms around him, she said, "Part of the reason I feel so strongly about this is that I'm certain Micheline has never been truly fulfilled in life or love before."
"That's a safe assumption considering the character of her husband. I've never been one to speak ill of the dead, but frankly Micheline is well rid of Tevoulere."
"We must be very careful to keep the truth about Bernard from her. It would destroy her! She nurtures an illusion that he was meant to be her mate for life."
St. Briac made a noise that succinctly expressed his opinion on that subject.
"And yet," Aimée continued, "I feel that even Micheline realizes, deep inside, that her marriage was not all it could have been. Bernard was the only man she's ever known. She simply doesn't know what she's been missing."
"I doubt that she'll make that discovery at court."
"Perhaps not, but she'll have entertaining distractions. She's like a wounded fawn, Thomas. First she has to heal and learn to enjoy the simplest pleasures; it may be quite some time before she's ready to think of love."
"I yield, my lady." St. Briac smiled, kissing his wife's hair. "We shall go to Fontainebleau for the winter, at least. Do you suppose, though, that in the meantime—"
Aimée turned her face up to joyously receive his kiss. He tasted the sweet secrets of her mouth and drew her closer to feel her softness against his hardness. "How I missed you, miette," he whispered.
She gloried in the hot swirling spiral of passion, giving herself over to it as St. Briac's mouth burned her throat and then found her breasts. Now that the matter of Micheline was resolved for the moment, Aimée could concentrate on her husband. He was, she believed, the most splendid man in France.
* * *
It was long past midnight when Thomas fell asleep. Aimée listened to his heartbeat, wide awake, dozens of plans circling busily in her mind. Gradually her sixth sense told her that Micheline might be awake as well.
St. Briac's long, elegant fingers were curved around her waist, keeping her near even in sleep. His fatigue from the arduous journey home was such, however, that he didn't stir when Aimée lifted his hand and crept out of bed. Donning a velvet robe, she lifted the latch and tiptoed out into the dark corridor.
Micheline sat near the bottom of the curving white marble stairway, leaning against a baluster fashioned of black wrought-iron grapevines. The moonlight was brighter than ever, flooding the gallery through the tall windows that opened onto the courtyard. Aimée approached Micheline carefully. She was so still that she seemed unaware of her friend's presence, but then, as Aimée drew near, she whispered gently, "Has the moon kept you awake as well, Aimée?"
"In part... the moon and thoughts of you." Aimée perched beside her.
"I'm sorry. Don't worry about me. You should be giving your attention to your family."
"I have love enough for all of you," she replied warmly. "Will you tell me why you are still awake?"
"I