“Simone,” Armand cried up to her. “My daughter—will you not save me? Will you not save the man you called Papa for the whole of your life?”
“You were never my father, even when I thought you to be,” Simone said, and she stepped behind her brother, placed her palms on Didier’s bony shoulder. She couldfeelhim, his heat, his vibrating fury.
Didier snapped his mouth shut with a loud click and the sounds of the hellish blaze ceased, as did the very wind and rain buffeting the cliff and the abbey. Even the sea was silent as Didier looked at Armand.
“Let go,” he said in a quick, low voice.
Armand’s fingers unclenched and he fell away from them, backward, into the black. He did not scream.
The next sound they heard was a dull thud, then two more, then another. Then, as if the world exhaled a long sigh, the sounds of the ocean returned.
The skies began to clear. There was no sign of the French ship, once anchored in yonder bay.
’Twas as if it all, like a terrible dream, had simply gone away.
Didier turned, smiled up at Simone, and her breath caught in her throat—he was so beautiful.
“Sister,” he said, holding up his arms to her.
“Didier,” Simone croaked, and dropped to her knees, wrapping her arms about him tightly, smelling him, closing her eyes.
Didier pulled away and looked into her eyes. “The baron fetched me.”
Simone nodded, smiling through her tears. “I know.”
Didier nodded, too, then glanced over her shoulder. His eyes found hers once more, their pure, green depths filled with uncertainty. “Uncle Jehan is not our uncle.”
Her smile grew wider. “Why do you not go and see him?” She turned on one knee and placed her arm around his skinny waist.
Jehan had not moved. He still stood several steps away, his sword in one hand, its tip touching the ground. Tears wet his face.
“Didier?” he said gruffly, and his sword fell to the ground with a clang.
And then the boy ran, his small feet slapping the damp floor, and launched himself into Jehan’s arms.
“Papa!”
“Oh, my boy! My boy!” Jehan turned around and around. “How I have missed your sweet face!”
Simone saw Nicholas, crouched now at Genevieve’s side, his arm bracing her shoulders. The lady cried quietly into her hand, and Nick glanced up at Simone. She could not fathom the emotion on his face—was it relief? Sadness? Regret?
Jehan stopped spinning, and Didier leaned back in the old man’s arms.
“Can you stay?” Jehan asked tentatively, as if he knew the answer before he voiced the question.
Didier shook his head. “I missMaman.”
“Of course you do, my boy, of course,” Jehan whispered fiercely.
“Papa?” Didier asked.
“Oui,my son?”
Didier poked a finger into his father’s chest shyly. “Have you anything to eat?”
Simone could not help but laugh out loud, and she was surprised when she heard Nick’s chuckle.
Jehan set the boy on his feet slowly, reluctantly, and reached into a pouch on his belt. “Well, what have we here…let’s see—oh! Do you fancy a sweetmeat?”
