Only With Your Love (Vallerands #2)(110)

She had never seen the twins in the same room together. It was overwhelming. She found it hard to believe that one could ever be mistaken for the other. Although their features were identical, it was easy to see which was the doctor and which was the reformed pirate. One was the kind of man all mothers would wish their daughters to marry, while the other was the kind mothers would beg their daughters to stay away from.

Philippe let go of Celia’s hand and stood up. “So you’ve been pardoned, mon frère,” he said.

Justin took his hard gaze from Celia and looked at his brother with a slight smile. “Yes. After all of this I’m afraid father’s political influence has been severely depleted. He hasn’t a single favor left to call in.”

“Justin, what you did for me—” Philippe began, and stopped as if at a loss for words. He stepped forward and clasped Justin in a rough embrace. They held fast, and then Justin released him with a laugh.

“The worst part of it was pretending to be you,” Justin said. “It wasn’t easy, affecting such gentility and kindness. And having to listen politely to accounts of all the maladies plaguing the elderly matrons of New Orleans.”

Philippe chuckled. “I must admit, I can’t imagine you listening politely to anyone.”

Justin surveyed his brother appraisingly. “You look well, Philippe. No one is more glad than I to have you alive, and back here safely.”

“Thank you,” Philippe said. “It is all because of you.” Blue eyes met blue as the twins exchanged a glance of understanding. They had been separated for a long time, but nothing would ever break the bond between them.

“When I heard you were dead,” Justin muttered, “I felt as if half of me were missing.”

“I wanted to kill you myself when I realized you were exchanging yourself for me.”

“I never thought twice about it,” Justin said simply. “I only wish I could make Legare pay ten times over for what he did to you.”

“There are things I need to talk to you about, Justin.”

“I know,” Justin said quietly. “Whenever you want, mon frère.”

Celia stood up and took a step toward them. “Justin, I—”

“I see that you have been reunited with your wife,” Justin said to Philippe, ignoring her. His voice turned cool and courteous, as if he were complimenting his brother on winning a card game. “My congratulations.”

“Actually—”

“Obviously I’ve interrupted a private moment,” Justin said. “I’ll leave the two of you to your…celebration. We’ll talk later, Philippe.” Before either of them could reply, he turned and strode from the library.

“Justin!” Celia called after him, but there was no response. Wildly she spun around to Philippe. “H-he misinterpreted the kiss,” she said in a panic. “He does not understand—”

“If I don’t miss my guess,” Philippe said thoughtfully, “Justin expects you to follow after him. It might be wise to do so immediately. And in the meanwhile…” He smiled, suddenly looking as eager as a boy. “I plan to pay a visit to Miss Briony Doyle.”

“Good luck,” she said breathlessly.

“Good luck to you.”

Rushing down the hallway, Celia caught up to Justin just as he reached the octagonal entrance hall. “Justin, wait.” She touched his arm. He spun around to face her, towering over her. In contrast to his icy control of a few moments before, he was breathing fast and his blue eyes were simmering with fury. “Justin, Philippe and I were talking, and—”

“Legare was right about one thing,” he said tersely. “You seem to do equally well with either one of the Vallerand brothers.”

“What?” She gazed at him in astonishment. “Let me explain—”

“Don’t bother. It doesn’t interest me.”

“You are the most unreasonable, thick-headed—”

“I don’t blame you for wanting to keep Philippe on the line,” Justin sneered. “He’s safe, respectable—an exemplary husband. And when you find he doesn’t satisfy you in bed, you can always come visit me for a good hard—”

She slapped his face. The crack of her hand echoed in the entrance hall. “After all I’ve endured, I will not be insulted by you!”

“Oh, I’m not insulting you—”

“You jealous—”

“I quite admire your adroitness in getting what you want.”

“I am trying to tell you that Philippe and I have decided on an annulment!”

Maximilien’s deep voice boomed out from behind them in annoyance. “What is this uproar about?” He was standing with Lysette at the bottom of the staircase. “Is all this noise and commotion really necessary? I urge the two of you to settle your differences in a more circumspect manner.”

Glaring at the two of them, Justin dragged Celia into the nearby parlor and slammed the door.

Max began to chuckle. Lysette glanced at him bemusedly. “Bien-aimé, why are you smiling like that?”

Max lifted her up the first two steps so that they were standing nose to nose. “I am thinking of the settee you had upholstered in that slick blue damask,” he said, drawing her arms around his neck. “And wondering if they will have more success with it than we did.”