Julian hated that he hadn’t been able to find Camille’s dress. He’d failed his new wife, but he was determined to win her forgiveness. Why he felt this way, he didn’t know. Their marriage was nothing more than a deal and she was being well-compensated for her share. Still, to those on the outside, it looked like a personal disaster for the bride, and that was unacceptable for Julian.
Soren. Where is Soren? He would help Julian fix this, or at least make it seem less painful. With Soren’s help, he’d find a way to ease Camille’s embarrassment.
Finally, Julian spotted Soren directing the servants in the makeshift kitchen.
A crew specializing in weddings had turned the inside of a rented tent into a temporary haven of enchanted opulence. Camille sat in a stiffened pose, trying to appear as regal and confident as possible, but detesting every second of her time at a table in the center of the pavilion.
She wasn’t sure if she could pin the rain on Madeleine—unless the French had found a way to control the weather. If anybody could, Camille’s money was on her new father-in-law. But the wedding gown? That mystery had Madeleine’s name scribbled across it in big red letters.
Julian and Soren standing on the edge of the pavilion caught her eye. The two men were in a deep conversation, like two thieves plotting their next heist.
What were they up to? Camille’s curiosity soared, and landed somewhere in the vicinity of tonight.
Not that she expected to have a night of wedded bliss with Julian, but the thought of him sleeping with another woman on this night just didn’t seem right. Even though they weren’t consummating the marriage, somehow she thought tonight should be about them. Camille and Julian. Not Julian and Madeleine.
On the other side of the bride and groom’s table, Andre and Tasha sat whispering into one another’s ears. One of Andre’s arms rested on the back of Tasha’s chair, and he was caressing her upper arm with his free hand. She, in turn, had laid her hand on his chest and leaned in toward him as she whispered into his ear.
Camille had told her not to do that. She didn’t need Julian’s dejected brother added to the mix. Keeping herself on the path of an unbroken heart was hard enough, especially now that the path had begun to narrow.
And if she thought this day couldn’t get any worse, right on cue, Madeleine invited herself to sit in Julian’s chair. She looked at Camille and gave her one of those fake smiles that makes you want to smack the girl across the face.
“Are you enjoying yourself?” Camille asked, determined to keep a civil tongue.
Madeleine frowned. “You poor dear.” Her face skewed into a crooked smile and she followed it with laughter. “How ridiculous you look. No wonder your husband is clear across the room.”
Camille played with the diamond-studded bands Julian had placed on her ring finger. Her way of pointing out something that Madeleine lacked. “I guess ridicule is in the eye of the beholder.” Camille shrugged, well on her way to losing the fight with her pride. “How’d it feel to watch the man you want to marry, wed someone else?”
“Pretty much the same way it’s going to feel when he stops coming to your bed at night because he’s wrapped up in mine.”
Camille’s throat tightened and she hesitated, fighting for control of her temper. A thousand comebacks shuffled across her mind. If she didn’t confront this challenge right away, the next six months would be hell. “Fancy yourself a permanent room here at Pacifique de Lumière, do you?” Camille flashed her a look she hoped was bathed in mockery. “You’d be surprised at how much influence a wife has over her husband where the mistress is concerned.”
Madeleine’s brittle laughter gave away her waning confidence, and she grabbed a glass of champagne off the tray of a passing waiter.
“Make no mistake, Madeleine,” Camille said, her self-assurance continuing to swell. “You and I will not be living in the same house.”
She hadn’t seen Julian approaching the table, and was a bit startled when he leaned down between them but spoke to Madeleine. “I do hope you’re not thinking of making a scene.”
“Of course not, darling.” She trailed her fingertips longingly over his cheek. “Your new bride and I were just setting some ground rules.”
Julian turned to Camille and plastered on a smile. “Will you excuse us for just a moment, Chéri?” He didn’t wait for her answer. Instead, he latched onto Madeleine’s arm and forced her from the chair. His expression gave no sign of tolerance and Camille was certain Madeleine wasn’t being guided willingly.
Hopefully, Julian didn’t want a scene anymore than Camille. But he had to understand, she wasn’t about to put up with Madeleine’s rudeness. Not for any amount of money.
Julian practically dragged Madeleine in front of him by the time they cleared the tent’s entrance. Outside on the rain-drenched lawn, they stepped in a mud puddle. Madeleine scoffed and stomped her foot, splashing them both with dirty water.
“How dare you.” She chastised him with one of those evil-eyed looks she was so famous for. “How dare you treat me like a casual and indifferent acquaintance.”
“Madeleine, you are a guest at my wedding.” He ripped out the words through gritted teeth. “Not my choice, but you are here. So let’s be civil and do me a favor?” he asked, but didn’t wait for her response. “Stay away from my wife.”
Not that Julian liked being hostile to Madeleine, or any other woman, but he knew this one too well. Civility meant something more than its true purpose in her eyes. Thanks to his meddlesome father, Madeleine actually thought there was still a chance for some sort of relationship between them. And the last thing Julian wanted was Madeleine still hanging around with stars in her eyes after Camille had come and gone.
“Julian...?” Desperation invaded her voice and pushed her plea out. “She cannot give you what you truly need. I’m the only one that can do that. You know I know what satisfies and pleases you.”
Well, she had a point, little did she know. Julian’s wife had made it clear that he wasn’t getting what he needed from her, but that wouldn’t stop him from trying. The one thing he did know was there was no place for Madeleine in this scenario.
But he wasn’t about to confirm that to Camille. He thought he’d seen a hint of jealousy in her eyes, more than once, over Madeleine. And where there’s jealousy, there was also a chance for seduction.