Of all their lives.
After her mother’s and Didier’s deaths and Charles’s betrayal, rumors of Simone’s descent into madness had quickly spread. Portia du Roche had been quite liberal with the funds of Saint du Lac, and after her death it was discovered that there was no coin left to solicit a family of even modest means. Should she not marry well in England—and soon—she and her father would be paupers at the mercy of a foreign people.
With this weight resting solely on her shoulders, that she would jeopardize her father’s efforts for a few moments in the arms of a known seducer baffled her.
The Baron of Crane is not worth the dust on my slippers,she reasoned.So why? Why?
“I know not, Didier,” she finally sighed. Her answer seemed to leave the boy unsatisfied, so she reached for any possible explanation. “Perhaps ’twas because he was so handsome and I was so miserable at the feast. Perhaps, for once, I merely wanted to do and say what I pleased.”
“You chose a poor time to do so.”
Simone sent her brother a wry smile.
Didier gazed thoughtfully at her. “Would you do the same if given another chance?”
“Oui.” The answer passed her lips before she’d taken time to think on it properly, and Simone was surprised by the truth of it. “Oui,I would do the same. I cannot explain it to you, or even to myself, really.”
The memory of the baron’s kisses flooded her mind so that she rose up on her knees and began untying the bed curtains to distract herself. She could feel Didier’s gaze on her back as she struggled with a knot.
“Perhaps you needed his touch,” Didier offered in a small, uncertain voice.
“What do you mean?” Simone let the freed curtain fall and crawled to the next post at the end of the bed.
“’Twas somethingMamanused to say,” he replied. “When she was feeling sad or out of sorts, she would hold me very tightly.” Didier’s voice grew wistful. “She would say, ‘Come here, my lovely boy, and sit upon my lap.’ She told me that, oft times, when a person is lonely, they need only the touch of one they love to make them feel happy again.”
Simone let the second curtain fall and sat back on her heels, tears welling in her eyes. She turned and crawled back to Didier, the remaining ties forgotten, and slid beneath the furs. She held up a corner of the coverings, and Didier joined her.
“Didier, I do not love the baron,” she explained softly. “He was merely…convenient.”
“I know.” He avoided her gaze, smoothing his hand across the soft fur. His small fingers disappeared as they passed through a fold and reappeared on the other side. “I miss her.”
“You will see her again,chéri,” Simone encouraged. “We must simply bide our time until we can learn why she passed on and you did not.”
“Do you think I’ll go to Hell, Sister?” he asked in a small voice. “Is that why I am still here? Because God does not want me in Heaven?”
“I most certainly do not!” Simone whispered fiercely. “God andMamanwill welcome you into Heaven, into their arms, one day very soon. You must believe that.”
Didier nodded half-heartedly and then looked into Simone’s eyes. “I think Lady Haith can help us. Truly. She is…different.”
His gaze was so earnest, so hopeful, Simone was tentatively won over. “Very well, Didier,” she acquiesced. “If I happen to encounter her again while we are in London, I will confide in her, if ’twill make you happy.”
Didier’s answering smile was radiant.
“But I hope you realize the danger telling another of your presence holds for me,” she warned, thinking of Charles and his disgusted horror at her confidence.
“Lady Haith will not betray you, Sister,” he promised solemnly. He looked as if he was going to say more, but then thought better of it as a rap sounded at the chamber door.
“’Tis Papa,” he whispered. He placed an invisible kiss on Simone’s cheek and then, in a blink, was gone.
Simone’s stomach clenched when she heard the key scraping in the lock. She sank down into the soft mattress and pulled the furs to her chin as the door swung open and her father stepped inside the room, carrying a single candle.
“Simone? Do you sleep?” Armand asked in a low voice.
“Non,Papa.” Her heart raced as he shut the door quietly behind him. His full, ruddy face was etched with fatigue, the ever-present tic around his eye jumping wildly as he limped across the chamber and placed the candle on a small table.
He is too calm,Simone thought as Armand came to stand at the foot of her bed. His arm was drawn against his side and he stared at her intently.Something is terribly wrong.
Her imagination ran unchecked: Lord Halbrook had called off the betrothal and they would be forced to leave London because of her scandalous behavior. Where would they go now? The meager funds Armand had managed to gather for the journey were nearly depleted and they could not return to France.
