I plunged my knife into the bottle’s cork, twisting sharply. Everyone flinched. Grinning anew, I dipped my chin in the briefest of nods. “Who’s thirsty?” I flicked the cork at Reid’s nose, and he swatted it away in exasperation. “Ansel?”

His eyes widened. “Oh, I don’t—”

“Perhaps we should procure a nipple.” Beau snatched the bottle from under Ansel’s nose and took a hearty swig. “It might be more palatable to him that way.”

I choked on a laugh. “Stop it, Beau—”

“You’re right. He’d have no idea what to do with a breast.”

“Have you ever had a drink before, Ansel?” Coco asked curiously.

Face darkening, Ansel jerked the wine from Beau and drank deeply. Instead of spluttering, he seemed to unhinge his jaw and inhale half the bottle. When he’d finished, he merely wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and shoved the bottle toward Coco. His cheeks were still pink. “It goes down smooth.”

I didn’t know which was funnier—Coco and Beau’s gobsmacked expressions or Ansel’s smug one. I clapped my hands together in delight. “Oh, well done, Ansel. When you told me you liked wine, I didn’t realize you could drink like a fish.”

He shrugged and looked away. “I lived in Saint-Cécile for years. I learned to like it.” His eyes flicked back to the bottle in Coco’s hand. “That one tastes a lot better than anything in the sanctuary, though. Where did you get it?”

“Yes,” Reid said, his voice not nearly as amused as the situation warranted. “Where did you get it? Clearly Coco and Ansel didn’t purchase it with our supplies.”

They both had the decency to look apologetic.

“Ah.” I batted my lashes as Beau offered the bottle to Madame Labelle, who shook her head curtly. She waited for my answer with pursed lips. “Ask me no questions, mon amour, and I shall tell you no lies.”

When he clenched his jaw, clearly battling his temper, I braced myself for the inquisition. Though Reid no longer wore his blue uniform, he just couldn’t seem to help himself. The law was the law. It didn’t matter on which side of it he stood. Bless him. “Tell me you didn’t steal it,” he said. “Tell me you found it in a hole somewhere.”

“All right. I didn’t steal it. I found it in a hole somewhere.”

He folded his arms across his chest, leveling me with a stern gaze. “Lou.”

“What?” I asked innocently. In a helpful gesture, Coco offered me the bottle, and I took a long pull of my own, admiring his biceps—his square jaw, his full mouth, his copper hair—with unabashed appreciation. I reached up to pat his cheek. “You didn’t ask for the truth.”

He trapped my hand against his face. “I am now.”

I stared at him, the impulse to lie rising like a tide in my throat. But—no. I frowned at myself, examining the base instinct with a pause. He mistook my silence for refusal, shifting closer to coax me into answering. “Did you steal it, Lou? The truth, please.”

“Well, that was dripping with condescension. Shall we try again?”

With an exasperated sigh, he turned his head to kiss my fingers. “You’re impossible.”

“I’m impractical, improbable, but never impossible.” I rose to my toes and pressed my lips to his. Shaking his head, chuckling despite himself, he bent low to fold me in his arms and deepen the kiss. Delicious heat washed through me, and it took considerable self-restraint not to tackle him to the ground and have my wicked way with him.

“My God,” Beau said, voice thick with disgust. “It looks like he’s eating her face.”

But Madame Labelle wasn’t listening. Her eyes—so familiar and blue—shone with anger. “Answer the question, Louise.” I stiffened at her sharp tone. To my surprise, Reid did too. He turned to look at her slowly. “Did you leave camp?”

For Reid’s sake, I kept my own voice pleasant.

“I didn’t steal anything. At least”—I shrugged, forcing myself to maintain an easy smile—“I didn’t steal the wine. I bought it from a peddler on the road this morning with a few of Reid’s couronnes.”

“You stole from my son?”

Reid held out a calming hand. “Easy. She didn’t steal anything from—”

“He’s my husband.” My jaw ached from smiling so hard, and I lifted my left hand for emphasis. Her own mother-of-pearl stone still gleamed on my ring finger. “What’s mine is his, and what’s his is mine. Isn’t that part of the vows we took?”

“Yes, it is.” Reid nodded swiftly, shooting me a reassuring look, before glaring at Madame Labelle. “She’s welcome to anything I own.”

“Of course, son.” She flashed her own tight-lipped smile. “Though I do feel obligated to point out the two of you were never legally wed. Louise used a false name on the marriage license, therefore nullifying the contract. Of course, if you still choose to share your possessions with her, you are free to do so, but do not feel obligated in any way. Especially if she insists on endangering your life—all our lives—with her impulsive, reckless behavior.”

My smile finally slipped. “The hood of your cloak hid my face. The woman didn’t recognize me.”

“And if she did? If the Chasseurs or Dames Blanches ambush us tonight? What then?” When I made no move to answer her, she sighed and continued softly, “I understand your reluctance to confront this, Louise, but closing your eyes will not make it so the monsters can’t see you. It will only make you blind.” Then, softer still: “You’ve hidden long enough.”

Suddenly unable to look at anyone, I dropped my arms from Reid’s neck. They immediately missed his warmth. Though he stepped closer as if to draw me back to him, I took another drink of wine instead. “All right,” I finally said, forcing myself to meet her flinty gaze, “I shouldn’t have left camp, but I couldn’t ask Ansel to buy his own birthday present. Birthdays are sacred. We’ll strategize tomorrow.”

“Really,” Ansel said earnestly, “it isn’t my birthday until next month. This isn’t necessary.”

“It is necessary. We might not be here—” I stopped short, biting my errant tongue, but it was too late. Though I hadn’t spoken the words aloud, they reverberated through camp all the same. We might not be here next month. Shoving the wine back at him, I tried again. “Let us celebrate you, Ansel. It’s not every day you turn seventeen.”

His eyes cut to Madame Labelle’s as if seeking permission. She nodded stiffly. “Tomorrow, Louise.”

“Of course.” I accepted Reid’s hand, allowing him to pull me close as I feigned another horrible smile. “Tomorrow.”

Reid kissed me again—harder, fiercer this time, like he had something to prove. Or something to lose. “Tonight, we celebrate.”

The wind picked up as the sun dipped below the trees, and the clouds continued to thicken.

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