Serpent & Dove (Serpent & Dove #1) - Shelby Mahurin Page 0,84

many aristocrats who tried to stop and congratulate him along the way.

I shifted my feet—intensely and horribly aware of my thunderous heartbeat, my tingling limbs, my flushed skin—when he finally reached me.

He took my hand. “You look beautiful.”

I flushed further under his gaze. Unlike the prince’s haughty appreciation, Reid was almost . . . reverent. No one had ever looked at me like that before.

“Thank you.” My breath caught, and he tilted his head, eyes searching mine in silent question. I looked away, embarrassed, but Coco chose that moment to swoop down on us.

She didn’t bother with pleasantries. She never did with Reid. “Tell me, Chasseur Diggory, who was that lovely woman you were with earlier? Your sister, perhaps?”

I glared at her pointedly, but she ignored me. Subtlety had never been Coco’s forte.

“Oh—er, no,” Reid said. “That was the vicomte’s daughter, Mademoiselle Tremblay.”

“Close personal friend?” Coco pressed. “Her-dad-is-friends-with-your-dad type of thing?”

“I’ve never met my father,” Reid answered woodenly.

But Coco didn’t bat an eye. “How do you know one another then?”

“Brie.” I forced a smile and reached for her hand, squeezing it mercilessly. “I think I’d like a little time alone with my husband. Where’s Ansel?”

She waved her other hand behind us dispassionately. “Probably beating his chest and challenging that other Chasseur to a duel.”

I looked back to where she waved. “What other Chasseur?”

“The pompous one. The asshat.” She pursed her lips in concentration, but she needn’t have bothered. I knew exactly to whom she referred. “Jean Luc.”

“What happened?”

“Oh, the usual male condition. Ansel didn’t want Jean Luc playing with his new toy.” She rolled her eyes. “I swear, my female paramours are never so much trouble.”

My grin was genuine now. Poor Ansel. He didn’t stand a chance against Jean Luc—or Coco. “Perhaps you should go referee.”

Coco studied my hand clasped around Reid’s, and the feverish complexion of my cheeks. The way he stood close. Much too close. Her eyes narrowed. “Perhaps I should.”

She stepped forward to embrace me, but Reid wouldn’t let go of my hand. Shooting him a glare, she hugged me regardless—awkward, but fierce. “I’ll see you later,” she murmured in my ear. “Let me know if I need to exsanguinate him.”

Reid watched her leave with an inscrutable expression. “We need to talk,” he said finally. “Somewhere private.”

I followed him in silent apprehension to the same herb garden of Célie’s heartbreak. This time, I made sure to shut the kitchen door firmly behind us. Whatever he wanted to confess—and I had an inkling it would hurt like a bitch—I didn’t need an audience.

He dragged a hand through his coppery hair in agitation. “Lou, the woman you and Mademoiselle Perrot saw me with, that was—”

“Don’t.” I wrapped my arms around my waist to keep from shivering. I couldn’t take it. I couldn’t relive the wretched conversation again. Hearing it once had been enough. “You don’t have to explain anything. I understand.”

“I do need to explain,” he disagreed. “Look, I know we were married under less than ideal circumstances. But, Lou, I—I want this to work. I want to be your husband. I know I can’t force you to want the same, but—”

“I do want the same,” I whispered.

His eyes widened, and he took a tentative step closer. “You do?”

“Yes.”

He smiled, then—truly smiled—before faltering slightly. “Then there can’t be any secrets between us.” He hesitated, as if searching for the right words. “The woman you saw was Célie. You read my letters, so you know I loved her. But—but nothing happened. I promise. She found me when I arrived with the Archbishop, and she . . . she refused to leave my side. I brought her out here just a few moments ago to explain the new parameters of our relationship. I told her I didn’t—”

“I know.”

I took a deep breath, preparing myself for the unpleasantness to come. He frowned. “How can you know that?”

Because I’m a shit person. Because I didn’t trust you. Because she is everything you deserve, and I am your enemy.

“I followed the two of you out here,” I admitted quietly. “I . . . I heard everything.”

“You spied on us?” Disbelief colored his voice.

I trembled. Whether from the cold or shame, I didn’t know. “Old habits die hard.”

His brows pinched together, and he drew back slightly. “That’s not how I would’ve chosen for you to find out.”

I shrugged, attempting a bit of my old swagger, but it fell flat. “Easier this way though.”

He stared at me for a long moment—so long I didn’t know whether