Seleste, Then

SELESTE

S he was nervous. It was silly, really. Seleste had been taking refreshments to Cal's chalet at teatime for over a fortnight—every day since their midnight beach escapade. He'd been excusing himself from the afternoon gathering by telling his family he preferred to nap at that time, to pass the hottest part of the day in a state that conserved the most energy.

It was a lie, but it was so Cal that everyone believed it.

Instead, he spent that hour deep in conversation with Seleste.

Some days they spoke of their lives and interests. On other days, they debated philosophical or religious ideas. Seleste even confessed she'd learned his family name—pleased with herself to find she was correct. None of which made her the slightest bit nervous, or anything other than giddy.

No, she was nervous because of the muffins .

She'd risen far earlier than usual because the cooks had given her permission to sneak into the kitchens before anyone woke, and bake. Of course, she hadn't told them the real reason why she wanted to make an entire batch of lemon muffins, but they hadn't cared much. Seleste had stowed them away in her room and gone about her day trying to pinpoint what had her in such a tizzy. They were just muffins, and he was just a man.

The lemonade was freshly squeezed, chilled, and the perfect mixture of tart and sweet. A tray was loaded up with the carafe and glasses for her ladyship, the young ladies, and their au pair , Becky. Seleste added the butter biscuits intended for them to the tray and set it off to the side of the kitchen counter for Frances to retrieve and take upstairs. In a rush to leave before the other maid arrived in order to avoid questions, Seleste made quick work of securing the jar of lemonade intended for her and Cal, and grabbed the basket of lemon muffins she'd retrieved from her room before preparing the lemonade.

Slipping out the back door as Frances entered the kitchen, Seleste heard, "Enjoy your downtime!" just as the door shut behind her. She waved through the door's window with her pinky, blessedly not dropping the slick jar of lemonade in the process.

She swore the sun was growing closer every single day, and she truly missed the freedom to wade into the ocean just outside her hut anytime she wished. But it was worth it. The heat, missing her isle… All to spend Summer afternoons with Cal. Several times, they'd stayed tucked in the coolness of shadow in his chalet , but some days they'd ventured out. Once to a little pond swarming with goldfish. Once to climb one of the many tall hills to find a view of the surrounding landscape. And once to the shoreline where they dipped their toes into the cool waves of Noir Bay and argued over free will and its effect on mortal life.

Seleste smiled at the memory. Then blushed. The debate had turned so heated that they both stood up, covered in sand and ankle-deep in the bay's cool waters, arguing their points until the charge between them turned to something decidedly more carnal. She'd watched Cal's chest rise and fall rapidly, his hand clenching into a fist as his gaze lingered on her lips before he composed himself and immediately walked her back to Whitehall.

Giggles floated toward Seleste on the hot breeze as she walked through the gardens toward the chalet . Two little girls rushed toward her, shouting her name and falling into more fits of laughter. What a joyous time, to be so young and carefree. Not a worry in all the realms.

"Ladies!" Becky shouted. "Please!"

The ladies' au pair sounded pained, and she was trudging after them breathlessly, a hand on her abdomen.

"Becky?" Seleste bent to set her basket and lemonade down, rushing to the woman as the girls plopped down in the grass, oblivious to anything not right with the world. "Are you all right?" She put an arm around her, but Becky flinched away from her touch, sneering at Seleste.

She let her hands fall to her sides, pushing away the flash of anger and frustration it sent through her. Ignorance was ignorance, willful or not. It would do no good to feed into it. And the woman was clearly hurt in some way. "Are you ill? Can I help?"

To her credit, Becky still backed away, but she softened slightly. "It's my womanly course. It came while I was on a walk with the girls. I wasn't expecting it."

"Go." Seleste gestured toward the main house. "I'll keep the girls occupied while you take care of what you need to do." She smiled kindly at the au pair and glanced at Elsie and Emeline. "We'll be fine. If you're not back by teatime, I'll take them up myself."

"Thank you, thank you." And Becky rushed off toward the main house.

Seleste bid the girls to stay where they were, letting butterflies land on them, while she looked around the garden. "Aha." Seleste looked back and waved Elsie and Emeline over. "Ladies, come over here, would you?"

They both bounded over with no fuss, something that sent a little sense of accomplishment into her heart. "What is it, Mademoiselle Seleste?" Emeline asked politely.

"This plant right here." She bent and pointed to a specific one. "Pull one of those up for me, would you, Lady Emeline?"

The little girl's eyes widened. "I really can?"

It hadn't occurred to Seleste that there might be a rule against anyone but her ladyship or the cooks plucking plants from the garden but…every once in a while, rules needed to be broken in order to help someone else. "Yes."

Emeline squealed, bouncing to pull the bulb loose from the rather dry soil. "What is it?" She held it up.

"Ginger!" Elsie answered first.

"Very good, Lady Elsie!" Seleste praised her. "We are going to use this and one of Cook's cinnamon sticks to prepare a nice tea for Mademoiselle Becky's upset belly. Would you like to do that? "

Both girls jumped at the opportunity and ran for the kitchen. They prattled on without ceasing for the entirety of their time in the kitchen, to the point Seleste wondered when it was they took a breath. The phrase ‘talking someone's ears off' suddenly made immense sense, but Seleste couldn't bring herself to be perturbed by it, even if her too-in-tune senses were aching.

Their job complete, they left the tea to steep in a ray of sun slanting in through the window and made their way back outside. The kitchen—the entire house—seemed too small for these little spitfires.

"I have an idea, while we wait for Mademoiselle Becky." She grinned at the girls and took off running toward where she'd left her muffin basket and lemonade—long since warmed in the sun. Emeline and Elsie sprinted after her, skirts hiked up in their fists and raucous giggling erupting from them. When Seleste reached the lush grass near the garden, she collapsed on her back, arms out wide, and the girls did the same with exaggerated oomphs and uncontrollable laughter.

The three of them stared up at the sky. "What do you see?" she asked them. "In the clouds. I used to play this game with my Sisters and my mother when I was a little girl." A little wild witchling.

"Hmmm," Elsie thought aloud, her face scrunched up. "I see a lion with a big mane."

"I see a sheep!" Emeline chimed in, then looked over at Seleste. "What do you see?"

"I see a palm tree. It has three coconuts on it." She paused as the girls' eyes wandered around the sky looking for the palm. "And I see rain."

Elsie snorted. "But it's sunny! "

"Ah, yes, but—" Seleste pointed to the Ouest and their attention followed. "Do you see those clouds over there? The big fluffy ones?"

"Mmhmm," Emeline hummed.

Someone had approached. Seleste could sense it. But the intruder stayed out of sight, remaining quiet. They'd come from the direction of the chalet and— Yes, that was the scent of ink, parchment, and tea on the wind. Cal . Her heart did a little flip.

"What about them, Mademoiselle Seleste?"

"Well," she continued, wondering how long Cal would observe them while assuming his presence was unknown, "they are extra fluffy on top, like pulled cotton or whipped icing." She nudged Emeline with her elbow and she giggled. "But, there at the bottom, you can see they are flat and grey. That means they are full of rain and soon won't be able to hold it any longer. They're also headed in this direction. Notice how they seem to be getting bigger? It's because they're getting closer. If they pass over Whitehall, we will most certainly get a good dousing of refreshing Summer rain."

"How do clouds get rain, Mademoiselle Seleste?" This from Elsie, her blonde eyebrows bunched in the middle.

"Well, you see, water goes through a cycle. When it is on the ground in a lake, a stream, or even a puddle, or morning dew, it turns into vapour as the sun heats it. A vapour is…" She considered how to explain it to children. "In between a liquid and a solid. Like steam from a teapot."

"Oh! Oh!" Emeline interjected. "Or the steam from my bath when it's chilly out!"

"Yes! Exactly that. That vapour lifts into the sky and stays there, but it cools off because the sky is actually rather chilly way up there. Like the difference between your hot bath and the cold air. Then, the vapour turns back into droplets of water that gather together to form clouds. Eventually, so many have gathered that the cloud has to fall—as rain. And the process begins again."

"Over and over?" Elsie asked.

"Mmhmm."

"Since forever?"

Seleste chuckled. "Yes."

"Until forever?"

"Yes, that too."

She thought she heard a twig snap and noticed Cal's presence was no longer lingering there. "Well, my dears, what say we make a lovely bouquet of flowers for Mademoiselle Becky?"

The girls squealed once more and jumped up, running for the garden. By the time Becky returned, she was looking much better. She thanked Seleste and took the girls into the kitchen to retrieve her tea. Seleste's respite was nearly over, and the sky was growing dark with cloud cover, but she had just enough time to drop off the treats to Cal and at least see his face.

The rain began in a deluge just as she reached his chalet . He opened the door before she could knock. "Come in, you'll get soaked!" he shouted over the hard pelting of rain.

Seleste handed him the basket of muffins and the jar of lemonade, shaking her head. "I have to get back." His face fell, but she smiled. "I'll be back tomorrow, I promise."

She darted out into the rain, bent on making it back in time to change before she had to clean the parlour and tearoom. But someone caught her arm and spun her around. Cal dropped her wrist and wrapped his arm around her waist. Seleste sucked in a breath, the rain drenching them both. Before she could even think, his other hand came up to her cheek and he pulled her against him, his lips meeting hers. Instantly, she melted into him, her hands gripping his back, feeling his skin through his soaked shirt. Cal deepened the kiss, a sweet desperation clawing at both of them.

By the time he broke away, Seleste was breathless, her head swimming. His breathing was ragged as she looked up into those blue eyes, his lashes dripping with rain. "Can I see you tonight?" His voice was husky, and she almost pushed him inside the chalet right then and there.

But he was a lord. A future earl. And she was a maid, who was expected to be cleaning his house right now.

"Yes," she breathed and ran for the house.