“There it is again!” Haith again halted and turned wide eyes to Simone. “Did you not hear it? ’Twas almost like a whisper!”
“Non,” Simone said, a trifle loudly for the close space. “I heard naught.”
“She can hear me, Sister!” Didier cried.
“Please,” Simone said to Haith. She could feel the panic begin to creep up. “If you could but point me in the direction of the entry hall, I really must go. My father will be along and he is already quite angry with me. I—”
“But, Sister—”
“Lady du Roche—”
“Non!” Simone interjected, cutting off both the woman and the boy. “I’m sorry. I heard naught.”
Haith stared at her for a long moment. So intently, in fact, that Simone fancied the woman was trying to discern her very thoughts. She could feel cold beads of sweat blooming along her hairline and upper lip.
Finally, the woman sighed and gestured down the passageway. “A left, and then a right turn.”
“My thanks,” Simone breathed and moved away as quickly as she could without running. But she was not to escape before hearing Lady Haith’s parting words called down the corridor after her.
“I do hope to see you again, Lady du Roche,” she said. “And Didier as well!”
Chapter 3
Simone sat curled in the upholstered armchair in her chamber, awaiting her father’s return with no little trepidation.
After what had seemed like hours in an empty receiving hall, a footman had arrived to see her to her father’s rented rooms and told her that Armand would join her later.
That had been near midnight, and now, dawn wavered on the horizon.
She wondered for the hundredth time what could be keeping him. Any number of scenarios she crafted in answer struck fear in her, and she sank deeper under the robes piled over her.
The small fire in the hearth crackled and popped as it devoured the stout wood lengths and sent a cozy glow creeping across the rug, but Simone’s tiny bedchamber was frigid. Didier was highly agitated following the evening’s events and whenever that occurred, a deep chill descended around his presence.
The boy paced the room in his own strange manner, flitting from one corner to the next—appearing first on the wide, canopied bed and then, in an instant, seated cross-legged before the hearth. His darting about grated on Simone’s already-worn nerves, and she scrubbed her hands over her face before giving a frustrated shriek.
“Didier! Can you not be still for one moment?”
Her brother said nothing, merely sent her a glare from his seated position in front of the—
No, now he scowled at her from the window ledge.
“You are making my head spin,” she pleaded, noting with bad temper that she could now see her breath when she spoke. “Do you not calm yourself, I’ll likely freeze to death before Papa returns.”
“Good,” the boy spat. “Mayhap then you will know what it’s like.”
“Whatwhatis like?” Simone sighed, rubbing her arms vigorously beneath the robes as another icy blast curled around her chair.
“Being ignored!” Didier now stood before her, his small fists planted on his hips. “Why did you not explain to the lady that the whispering she heard was me?”
Simone shook the fine layer of frost from her blankets. “Is it your wish to see me locked away for madness?”
“How could she accuse you of madness if she could also hear me?” Didier reasoned. “The moment I saw her, I felt she might be able to help us.”
The temperature of the room had risen slightly, signaling to Simone that Didier’s fit of pique was subsiding. Her teeth no longer chattered, and she could almost feel her fingers.
“How do you mean?”
“I know not, exactly,” Didier said, a frown wrinkling his face. He flapped a hand at Simone’s robes. “Let me sit with you.”
