“Ah…” Simone swallowed with some difficulty as Didier crawled from beneath the table, his feather gripped in his fist.
“I’m certain she is merely fatigued,” Nick intervened. Obviously, he’d seen Didier’s emergence as well. He handed a wriggling Isabella to her father and grasped Simone’s elbow, his fingers biting into her flesh. “Lady Simone?” he prompted darkly.
“Oh, yea.” She forced a laugh. “The journey…Iamweary.” She tried not to let her gaze follow Didier, who was now crawling in the direction of Lord Halbrook’s table. “Mayhap I should retire.”
Lady Haith’s eyes darted about the room as if searching for something—orsomeone.“Of course,” she said distractedly. “We’ll have time a plenty to”—she paused as a shrill scream pierced the hall—“become acquainted.”
Nearby, Lord Bartholomew had shot to his feet, and Simone realized where the rather feminine shriek of horror had come from. The stingy-looking man continued to yelp, shaking one leg and then stamping his foot. A manservant rushed to attend him.
“Something’s tried to crawl up my pant leg! I daresay ’twas a rat!”
“Well, that’s not all bad, then,” Simone heard Nick mumble before clearing his throat and speaking loud enough that all gathered could hear. “If you’ll excuse us, friends.”
As he half-dragged Simone away from the table, a ringing crash sounded behind her. She craned her neck to see a round, ornately made battle shield skid down the center aisle of tables, Didier sitting upon it as if it were a sleigh. Lady Genevieve stood transfixed, her fingertips pressed to her lips.
Nick’s fingers dug deeper into her elbow. “That was my father’s shield,” he growled in her ear. “Call him to you before he destroys the entire hall!”
“But, how—”
“Call him!” Nick shook her arm.
Simone pressed her lips into a thin line. “Didier,” she hissed from the corner of her mouth.
The heavy iron chandeliers bearing hundreds of lit candles began to sway like pendulums, dripping hot streams of wax on the guests below, and their surprised cries filled the great hall.
“Simone,” Nick warned.
She knew she had no choice. “Didier!” she said sharply, her voice ringing among the confused murmurs of the guests.
“Coming, Sister!”
A man sitting close by looked at Simone with a perplexed expression. “Dee-dee-yay, Baroness?”
“Pardon me?” Simone asked airily.
“Ah, well,” the man fidgeted, and Simone was appalled to find the other occupants of the table looking to her now as well. Lady Haith had left her seat altogether and was slowly circling the perimeter of the hall, eyes moving to each gently swaying light fixture.
“You said ‘Didier’,” the guest continued, flushing. “Were you seeking someone?”
Simone’s mind worked furiously. The only excuse she could fabricate was out of her mouth before she could think. She let her accent thicken.
“Oh,Didier!” Simone laughed gaily.
“What is it, Sister? I’m right here.”
“’Tis…’tis a custom of my home,” Simone explained, exploring the outrageous lie as it formed and ignoring her brother. “Similar toau revoir,but…” she stuttered, swallowed, then smiled, “reserved only for dear friends.”
The man’s face broke into a smile as his tablemates murmured amongst themselves, testing the phrase on their tongues. “Of course! Forgive my ignorance—I am honored.” He rose from the bench and bowed. “Didierto you, as well, Baroness.”
Simone huffed out a shaky laugh as Nick pulled her to the stone steps in the corner of the hall, amidst calls of “Didier! Didier!”
Simone was mortified. Didier followed them up the winding stairwell, walking backward and blowing kisses to the crowd. “Yea, yea—I am the prince! Bow down to me, loyal subjects!”
Simone was very much aware of Nick’s cross mumblings above her. “I do apologize, my lord,” she said.
Nicholas half-turned to glance down at her as he continued to stomp up the stairs. Ah—therewas the scowl Simone was accustomed to.
“Can you not control him, Simone?”
