"What news is so urgent?"

"It regards Mademoiselle Piccard."

Straightening from his semireclined state, Philippe studied the courier alertly. "Yes?"

"When I arrived at Desjardins', he had a visitor and I was asked to wait outside his study. I do not think he realized how clearly his words travel."

Philippe nodded grimly, having always found it noteworthy that such a slightly built man would have such a booming voice. He did not, however, find it interesting that the man would be discussing Marguerite. It was alarming because, quite simply, his very sanity rested with her well-being and proximity. Comte Desjardins was young, ambitious, and hungry for the king's regard. Those qualities made him dangerous to those who stood in his way.

"I heard the name Piccard," Thierry said softly, as if he might be overheard, "and though I attempted to turn my thoughts elsewhere, I could nor help but listen more closely."

"Understandable. You cannot be faulted for hearing conversations spoken within earshot."

"Yes. Exactly." The courier offered a grateful smile.

"About Mademoiselle Piccard…?"

"Desjardins was discussing how preoccupied you seem of late and how best to manage it. It was suggested that Mademoiselle Piccard was to blame for your decreasing participation."

Philippe tapped his fingertips atop his knee. "Do you know who this visitor was?"

"No, I am sorry. He departed through a different door than the one I waited outside of."

As he blew out his breath, Philippe's gaze moved to the banked fire in the grate. This parlor was considerably smaller and less appointed than the one he shared with his wife, yet this residence was home to him. Because of Marguerite.

Who could have foreseen how a reluctantly accepted invitation from the Fontinescus would become the turning point of his life?

Thoughts of Marguerite filled his mind, and he smiled inwardly. He had been unaware of how the many diverse and competing aspects of his life had been affecting him negatively until she'd brought his attention to it.