A Dove's Tale

Chapter 176

Things were going about as well as I expected.

We were riding north as the morning sun trekked across the sky, surrounded by nothing but miles and miles of green grass, wildflowers, and tilled fields. The air was fresh and sweet, the sky blue and clear, and the atmosphere charged and tense.

Chevalier rode Blade on my right, his crystal blue eyes set forward and his face devoid of all expression. That wasn't necessarily unusual. He often had the air of a cold, uninterested aristocrat when we were in public, but I knew underneath the facade, he was always a taut string ready to snap if he thought I needed protection.

On my right was Leon, riding his black stallion. He exuded his natural charisma with an easy smile and an easier conversational tone, but there was a wariness about him I felt more than I saw, and that was unusual. Very little put Leon ill at ease.

But Gilbert had a way of making almost anybody uneasy.

He rode on Leon's left, a pleasant smile on his lips and the reins held loosely in his black-gloved hands. To anybody who didn't know him, he was the picture of a handsome nobleman enjoying a relaxing day ride. To me, he was a potentially dangerous man playing at innocence atop a blood bay borrowed from the royal stables, and everything about him was suspect, including the horse's color. Deliberate choice, or sheer coincidence?

He already had me second guessing everything, and we'd exchanged little more than standard greetings.

I didn't have to wonder about our riding formation. That was most certainly deliberate. Chevalier and Leon had maneuvered their horses into position by unspoken agreement as soon as we were all in the saddle: me, safe in the middle; Chevalier and Gilbert, as far apart as possible; Leon, between Gilbert and me.

It was possible the tension would have been less if I hadn't come, but somehow, I didn't think so. There would have been far more silence and far less conversation had I not been present to keep up a steady stream of lighthearted, non-contentious chatter, fulfilling my usual role in awkward social situations. Chevalier could freeze a roomful of people with a single glance, and I could thaw the ice and have them smiling within minutes.

Usually.

"So, Belle thought it would be cute if Theresa made poached eggs, since she was making pain perdu and I was making pancakes."

"I wondered if that was intentional," Leon said, matching my casual tone. He was, of course, my primary conversational partner, and I appreciated his effort to make this ride as cordial as possible.

"It wasn't what we set out to do. I just wanted to spend some time with Belle before we left, and she'd already started the pain perdu last night for Rio, so I started pancakes for Chevalier. Then Theresa started cooking, and we ended up making breakfast for everybody."

"Pancakes are Chevalier's favorite?" Gilbert asked.

It was an innocent enough question, but as always, his blood-red eye and charming smile put me on edge, making me wonder if there was a deeper meaning to every word. Then again, it was a simple question. Maybe there wasn't more, and I was just overthinking it.

"His favorite breakfast food, yes," I replied, choosing to believe the best. "Whenever I make them for him, I don't bother making anything else. He just fills up on pancakes."

I smiled at Chevalier, remembering him devouring a towering stack of warm, fluffy pancakes earlier that morning. He'd gotten a little syrup on his chin. I'd made the mistake of licking it off, and we were nearly late to the stables as a result.

His eyes met mine briefly, and I felt a faint blush color my cheeks.

"Do you cook for him often?"

Gilbert's voice broke the sweet moment and made my cheeks warm even more. This was not the time to get lost in my thoughts, especially when the three men accompanying me were all adept at reading my expressions.