Serpent & Dove (Serpent & Dove #1) - Shelby Mahurin Page 0,83

is the one who suggested it.”

“The king, then. My father is the vicomte. I’m sure I could arrange a meeting—”

“Célie,” he said softly.

She sniffled, and I knew instinctively it wasn’t because of the cold. “I hate her.”

“Célie, you . . . you didn’t want me.”

My chest constricted at the emotion in his voice. At the pain.

“I always wanted you,” she said fiercely. “This wasn’t supposed to happen. I was angry, heartbroken, and I just—I needed time. I wanted to be selfless for her. For Pip.” She wrapped her arms around his neck, and I saw her face clearly for the first time. She had lovely high cheekbones, with wide, doe-like eyes and full lips. “But I don’t care anymore, Reid. I don’t care if it’s selfish. I want to be with you.”

Surely there is nothing more beautiful in all the world than your smile—except, of course, your eyes. Or your laugh. Or your lips.

I watched her press those lips to Reid’s cheek and felt sick. Suddenly, I didn’t find their love letters funny anymore.

He pulled away before she could move to his mouth. “Célie, don’t. Please. Don’t make this any harder.”

She paused, lower lip trembling. Her next words were a direct blow to my chest. “I love you, Reid.” She clung to him, pleading. “I’m so sorry I pushed you away, but we can still be together. We can fix this. You haven’t consummated the marriage. Speak to the Archbishop, ask for an annulment. He’ll send that whore to prison where she belongs, and—”

“She isn’t a whore.”

I leaned forward as Célie pulled back, frowning at something she saw in his face. “She was a thief, Reid, and she framed you. She—she doesn’t deserve you.”

Reid gently disentangled himself from her arms. “Célie, this can’t continue.” His voice was low, resigned. “Whether or not you like her, I made a vow. I will honor it.”

“Do you like her?” Célie demanded, eyes narrowing.

“It doesn’t matter.”

“It matters to me!”

And me.

“What do you want me to say, Célie? She’s my wife. Of course I like her.”

Célie rocked back as if he’d slapped her. “What’s happened to you, Reid?”

“Nothing—”

“The Reid I know would abhor that woman. She is everything you stand against—”

“You don’t know her.”

“I obviously don’t know you either!”

“Célie, please—”

“Do you love her?”

I held my breath, fingers biting into the doorjamb. There was a heavy pause. Then—

“No.” He exhaled heavily, looking down. “But I think—I think maybe I could—”

“But you said you loved me.” She backed away slowly, eyes wide with shock and hurt. Tears slid down her cheeks. “You asked to marry me! Me—not her!”

“I— Célie, I did. But Lou . . .” He sighed and shook his head. “I won’t hurt her.”

“You won’t hurt her?” She cried in earnest now, patches of color rising to her pale cheeks. “What about me, Reid? We’ve known each other since we were children!” Her tears soaked her bodice, ruining the black silk. “What about Pip? What about your oath?”

Reid’s hands hung limp at his sides. “I’m sorry. I never meant for this to happen.”

“I’m sorry too, Reid,” she sobbed. “I’m sorry I ever met you.”

I inched away from the door, numbness creeping down my limbs. I shouldn’t have been here. This moment hadn’t been meant for my eyes.

Back in the ballroom, I stood apart from the crowd, my mind still reeling.

Reid had loved her.

I shook my head, disgusted with myself. Of course he had. He’d said as much in his stupid journal—which I never should’ve read—and even if he hadn’t, he was a young, attractive man. He would’ve had his choice amongst any number of women if he hadn’t devoted his life to the Chasseurs. The thought rankled more than it should’ve. As did the thought of Célie’s lips—of anyone’s lips—pressed to his cheek.

Célie reemerged several moments later, wiping her face as inconspicuously as possible. She ducked her head before anyone could question her, heading straight for the antechamber. I swallowed the lump in my throat as Reid too reappeared. Watching as he searched for me, I debated following Célie.

How could I face him after what I’d heard? After learning what he’d given up?

Do you love her?

No. But I think—I think maybe I could—

Could what? Love me? Panic clawed up my throat at the word. Just as I’d lifted my skirts to flee toward the carriage, however, Reid spotted me in the crowd. I waved awkwardly, cursing my sudden insecurity, as his blue eyes met mine and widened. He started forward, politely excusing himself from the