Free Winter's Bees by E. E. Ottoman Page B

had not referenced it even once … But it was the only thing Marcel could think of, the only thing he'd done. He should not have done it at all, should not have forced physical intimacy of any kind no matter how small on Gilbert like that. Was Gilbert worried about what else Marcel might force on him now?
    No.
    Marcel pushed away his empty coffee cup as if the physical act would reject such thoughts. He had no reason to believe Gilbert was afraid of him. Gilbert had not said or done anything to indicate that.
    But how would you know? the treacherous voice at the back of his mind asked. He's been avoiding you ever since the ball, takes every opportunity to stay away from you, cannot even bear to be in the same room long enough to share a simple meal.   
    Marcel's stomach turned over, and for a moment he thought he might be ill. Putting his hands flat on the table, Marcel concentrated on taking deep breaths until he calmed a little. He shouldn't be jumping to conclusions like this, but still, he should definitely try to give Gilbert some space. Maybe he should even stay in Challant until or if Gilbert sent word for Marcel to join him.
    Standing from the table, Marcel headed for his own rooms to begin getting ready.
    The ceremony was brief; Gilbert was the youngest son and the last of his siblings to marry. Marcel's own mother was not overly fond of court pomp, so Marcel had never expected an elaborate wedding.
    Gilbert knelt beside Marcel during the prayer, in royal white while Marcel's own jacket had been embroidered with the roses of Mont de la Anges. Out of the corner of his eye, Marcel watched Gilbert, noting the lines around Gilbert's mouth and the dark circles under his eyes that hinted he wasn't sleeping well. Marcel kept himself from balling his hands into fists, but only just. He prayed he wasn't the reason that Gilbert was losing sleep, but the sinking feeling in his stomach told him he might well be.
    Space. Marcel tried to the concentrated on the front of the chapel again. They needed space.
    The bishop ended the prayer, and Gilbert stood and moved to the front of the room where the marriage contract waited for them to both to sign and be witnessed by all those present. Marcel stood as well, waiting at Gilbert's shoulder for him to finish signing. He didn't miss how careful Gilbert was to make sure their hands did not touch as he handed over the pen. 
    The rest of the ceremony passed as a blur. He was aware of Henri-André shaking his hand, the marquise kissing him on the cheek, and Gilbert's siblings began making their way to the front of the chapel to congratulate them. Marcel was so aware of Gilbert's presence close beside him, and he wanted to reach out, touch Gilbert's shoulder or squeeze his hand.  
    Charlotte clapped him on the shoulder and Marcel forced a smile for her, shoulder brushing against Gilbert's for a moment before Gilbert pulled away. Marcel missed his presence immediately.
    "Congratulations!" Henrietta squeezed his hands, beaming up at him.
    Gilbert had moved away from them, and Marcel's gaze followed him as he worked his way through the crowd. He wanted to go after him, but stayed where he was, turning his attention back to Henrietta. "Thank you."
    Space, he told himself, give him space.  
    His hands were shaken by a few more people Marcel vaguely recognized as extended family on his father's side before he managed to make his excuses to his mother and flee to his rooms to get ready for the ball.
    Once in the safety of his rooms, he stripped down to his shirtsleeves and unbuttoned his shirt so he could unstrap the arm he was wearing. Setting that aside, he walked across the room and poured himself a glass of wine as fortification for the party ahead. He downed half of it and stared up at the ceiling, feeling the beginning of a headache coming on.
     His wedding day.
    Marcel wasn't sure if he wanted to laugh or cry.
    A knock came at the door, making Marcel's look round in surprise. "Yes,