Seleste, Then

SELESTE

S he'd never been so happy in all her years.

Seleste spent the mornings teaching Elsie and Emeline everything she could, the girls ravenous to learn more. Afternoons were spent having luncheon with them and exploring the outdoors, or at the beach until teatime when she would meet Cal at his chalet .

Most of the time, they sat languidly in the shadows, avoiding the heat of the day and discussing every topic under the sun. But the nights…they were steamy and magnificent, slick with sweat and sweet as sin.

Cal would usually toss pebbles at her window until she came down and he would hardly wait until the edge of the house before he could no longer keep his hands off her. Sometimes, they only made it as far as the garden before they were tangled together, breathless under the moonlight. Other times, they made it as far as the bay or the sunflower field. Thrice, they made it all the way to his chalet , where she spent those nights wrapped in his arms.

Only once, the prior night to be exact, Cal had been too impatient to wait for her to come down, and he'd met her in the hall. They'd found the nearest closet, and Cal ravaged her against the wall next to linens and mop handles, while he covered her mouth so she wouldn't be too loud.

" Shhh," he'd whispered, writhing against her, that intoxicating smile on his face. "Someone will hear us ."

Seleste blew out a breath and fanned herself where she sat at the desk she taught from. Goddess . Perhaps she would do well not to think of Cal until lessons were over.

"Done!" Emeline shouted, slamming her graphite on her arithmetic parchment.

"Aw," Elsie groaned. "Not fair!"

Seleste rose and walked to their table. "Lady Elsie, remember that you are younger than your sister. In addition, always remember"—she looked between the girls—"someone else's success does not negate your own. As far as fair is concerned, you would do well to realise that fair is not everyone getting the same things. It is everyone getting what they need . In this case, doing what they need, at the pace they need to do it. Everyone is different." She smiled at them to soften her slight censure. "Lady Emeline, you may read quietly while I check your work and you wait for your sister to finish."

"But I don't want to read!" Emeline whined while Elsie scratched away at her arithmetic.

Seleste said nothing, only tilted her head to the side, one eyebrow raised.

Emeline sighed. "I know, try that again ." They'd already learned Seleste's common phrases she used with them. The girl took a deep breath, muttering to herself, "Unclench my fists. With a calm demeanour, disagree appropriately." She looked up at her governess. "Mademoiselle Seleste, may I draw instead of read?"

Emeline struggled with reading. She was, however, an incredibly gifted artist—something Seleste would never dream of squashing. "Reading opens the entire realm to you, dear one. If you can read well, you can learn anything, do anything, be anything. You may read a short book of your choosing, and then you may draw."

It wasn't exactly what Emeline wanted, but neither was it a total loss. She nodded resolutely and went to the shelf to select a book without further argument. Seleste already knew that she would select one she had nearly memorised, but that was part of her plan—to give the young girl repetition while ensuring she would read and still feel a sense of accomplishment by finishing the book without too many hiccups.

Elsie's little head lolled back then came down hard on her crossed arms as she grumbled, "Mademoiselle Seleeeeeste, I can't!"

Seleste sat in Emeline's vacated chair next to the girl. "Lady Elsie, you can do anything. What stops you is not that you don't know the material, it's that you don't want to do it."

Elsie was a brilliant little girl, but she wasn't fond of arithmetic, in much the same way her sister didn't enjoy reading. It was all about balance, and adding in a dash of fun.

"Why don't you take a tiny break and get some wiggles out? "

Elsie's eyes shone, a big grin crawling across her mouth. "Three sillies?"

"Three sillies," Seleste agreed.

She didn't have to tell Elsie twice. The little girl launched from her chair and ran around the room, arms raised above her head and screeching like a banshee. Before she made one full turn around the room, all three of them were laughing hysterically. Elsie then began to spin, arms out wide and golden hair splaying out around her. Emeline joined in and the two of them landed in a heap of giggles.

Just as Elsie was preparing for her last silly —it appeared it would be a cartwheel—Cal showed up in the doorway, knocking on the doorjamb.

"Clearly I'm interrupting a very important lesson," he said over the noise, a grin of his own plastered on his face.

The girls squealed and ran to attack him as Seleste watched, laughing. She couldn't help but imagine Cal as a father. The thought surprised her, and the smile slid off her face. He was a mortal—something she pointedly ignored—and he would be gone at the end of Summer when her Order was over. Something else she refused to think about.

"All right, all right," Cal chuckled. "Back to your studies, then. I'd like to have a word with Mademoiselle Joubert."

The girls groaned but did as they were told. Apparently, it was only Becky they had difficulty listening to. But the young woman was now merely around to prepare the girls for the day and bed, and to occupy them anytime Seleste wasn't with them.

Cal straightened his waistcoat and his dishevelled hair as he walked toward her. She couldn't help but be reminded of the disarray of his hair once she'd run her fingers through it in the throes of their passion.

She wasn't certain if something in her gaze gave her away, or if he was merely thinking the same thing, but his eyes sparked and red blossomed on his fair cheeks. When he reached her, he cleared his throat, trying and failing to keep his attention from drifting to her lips.

"How are the girls faring?" he asked, keeping a respectable, albeit charged , distance.

"They're doing very well. Lady Emeline isn't fond of reading because she is not yet confident in her capabilities, but she will get there. I'm on the hunt for more books that might interest her and motivate her to push past the difficulties. Lady Elsie, on the other hand, is a gifted reader, but she struggles with arithmetic."

"Words or numbers usually find favour with a person, rarely both."

Seleste nodded her agreement. "There is much to be said for strengthening one's weaknesses. The girls will find success." Her eyes narrowed on Cal. He was nodding along, but his eyes were distant. "What's on your mind, milord?"

That caught his attention. He despised when she called him that, but they were in front of his sisters, out in the open. His mouth dropped into a frown and she watched as he resigned himself to their current situation. Finally, he sighed. "I fear I need your help with something."

"Oh?"

"I'm concerned about my father." He scrubbed a hand along the nape of his neck. "My area of study is surgery, not maladies or viruses, but I have a base knowledge of such things, and I think it's become clear my father is far more ill than he's letting on."

"I would agree."

Brow furrowing, he didn't seem to like that she agreed, as if he'd been holding out hope she would claim his worries were baseless. "I've spoken with his physician after nearly every visit, and he assures me my father is simply overworked." Cal snorted. "As if anyone in Society is overworked , and we've been here all Summer. Dr. Pollock insists he merely needs more of the fresh country air." Scooting in closer, he lowered his voice. "There has to be mo?—"

"Argh!" Elise shouted, drawing both their attention. She threw her arms up in the air. "I can't figure out the sum!"

"I've finished my book!" Emeline spouted.

"Why is it always about you!" Elsie screeched, flinging herself around in her chair, prepared to spew more venom at her twin.

An argument broke out between the girls until Cal moved to intervene, but Seleste took hold of his sleeve and motioned for him to stop. He regarded her curiously but raised both hands in mock surrender, and moved to sit on the edge of her desk. Seleste slowly walked toward the girls and stood there quietly until they both clamped their mouths shut and looked up at her. Instantly, they both dropped their chins and mumbled apologies.

"Chins high and shoulders back," Seleste commanded firmly. "You are ladies and you are intelligent. Now, go and speak to one another as such, and work this out ."

They scampered off to a corner, whispering harshly, and Seleste returned to her desk where Cal looked impressed, if not a bit flirtatious. "You are remarkable," he murmured, his gaze dragging down her body like his fingers in the night.

She tried to suppress the smile rising to her lips. "You'll need to stop that right now, milord, and wipe that look off your face before someone sees it."

"Oh?" he teased. "Is it too telling?"

"If it were any more telling, it would singe my clothes right off." She knew she wasn't helping matters, confirmed by Cal clearing his throat again and adjusting his position on the desk. "What were you saying before the catfight broke out?"

"Right." He shook his head as if he had to physically dislodge his salacious thoughts, and Seleste suppressed a chuckle.

"My mother won't see reason, either. She trusts Dr. Pollock implicitly. He's been the family physician since before she was born. Not to mention, we've never come to Whitehall for the whole of the Summer before, let alone with sworn secrecy and staff acquired from outside Merveille so no one would know who we are…"

He'd been shocked and thoroughly impressed with her sleuthing the night Seleste divulged the fact she knew precisely who he and his family were.

"It's peculiar, I'll give you that."

"It's truly bizarre. They're even talking about inviting Lord Townsend to Whitehall at the end of the Summer. My father loathes Lord Townsend."

"What are your suspicions?"

"I truly don't know. But, you see everything." He smiled at her, a look of pride that warmed her heart. "And I wanted to ask your opinion—see if you had noticed anything, or could keep your eyes open. "

"Of course." She touched his arm, pulling away quickly when he tried to snatch her by the waist. "I did notice drops of blood on your father's handkerchief after a coughing fit while I was in his rooms a moon ago, discussing the girls."

Cal baulked. "The doctor has never once mentioned anything of the like. That could be any number of things… But he's told my father he's fine, and my father seems to believe it. That in and of itself is…" His voice trailed off as he shook his head in disbelief.

"I don't know much about the familial lines in Merveille's aristocracy," Seleste said, "but I do know Bellvary is a large region of Seagovia, and it's strange, at least, to hide a serious illness from you, who stands to inherit said earlship, without reason. Perhaps I'm jumping to conclusions, but it has the air of?—"

"Scandal. I agree," Cal murmured, pensive. "Perhaps he only wants to get his affairs in order before telling me." A sound of exasperation left him. "No, that's not like him to spare my feelings. Something doesn't feel right…" Abruptly, Cal stood. "I'll see you for teatime?"

"Of course," she smiled.

"Good. We'll formulate a plan then."

Cal bid his sisters goodbye and left their makeshift schoolroom. Seleste's mind was busy attempting to connect all the dots she'd been given and sifting through any information she'd heard since her start at Whitehall, so she told the girls their lessons were through for the morning. She sent them out to the garden to play and headed for her room to retrieve a notebook to jot some of her thoughts down while the girls got some fresh air.

Nearing the parlour, she heard voices, one of them harsh .

"Why do you spend so much time talking to that servant ?"

"She is not a servant, Mother. She is a governess."

Oh, sweet Cal .

Lady Della scoffed at her son. "Why do you spend so much time talking to the help , then?"

"Her name ," he snapped so harshly that Seleste gaped, "is Mademoiselle Joubert, and I was asking after the girls' studies. They're doing quite well. Truly blossoming. All thanks to her. We should consider bringing her back to the city with us."

A bitter laugh cracked out of her ladyship. "And have your sisters laughed out of High Society with a governess like that? I think not. They have a perfectly adequate tutor in Merveille already."

Cal was saying something in response, but Seleste had heard enough. She turned back the way she'd come and went to find the girls outside.