“That I cannot say, but Frère Jude is certainly the image of your cousin.” The monk studied the pictures again. “Though not so happy looking.”
“The years tend to weigh us down more heavily as we grow older,” Suzanne observed. “Has Frère Jude been a patient of yours here at the priory?”
“Not a patient at all,” Frère Pascal said reassuringly. “The lad is a bonesetter and he visits the priory every few months to offer his skills to anyone in need of them.”
“A bonesetter!” Simon exclaimed. “That’s . . . unexpected.”
“Perhaps, but he’s very good.” Frère Pascal patted his gnarled oak cane. “I’d be bedridden if not for his skills. I give thanks to God and Frère Jude that I can get around as well as I do.”
Simon supposed that anything Lucas set out to do, he’d do well. But his being a bonesetter was still surprising. Most practitioners learned the trade as apprentices to skilled bonesetters. Often the skills were passed down through families for generations. “You say that Frère Jude visits regularly. Do you know where he is now?”
Frère Pascal shook his head. “He travels around the whole of his Franciscan province, going wherever he feels he might be needed. It’s fair to say that he’ll probably be here within the next three or four months, but as to exactly when, or where he is now . . .” The monk shrugged philosophically. “Only God in his wisdom knows for sure.”
“Do you know other places he visits regularly?” Simon asked.
“He has occasionally mentioned places he has worked, but it’s not a regular schedule. He doesn’t always stay in religious communities. He’s equally likely to travel to a remote village and stay with locals until his work is done.”
“Frère Jude sounds like a true servant of God,” Suzanne said quietly.
“Oh, he is, he surely his. He has gifted, healing hands.” Pascal smiled a little bashfully. “I have felt blessed by them when he has treated me.”
“Lucas was always kind and compassionate.” Which was true, but could the cousin Simon had thought he’d known so well have been a born healer? “I do wish I could find Frère Jude to discover whether they are one and the same man!”
“I can make a list of places he’s been known to visit,” Pascal offered. “Though I don’t know if it would be a great deal of help.”
“That would be a start.” Simon reached inside his coat and produced a piece of folded blank paper and a short pencil. “Would it be useful if I sketched a simple map of southern Belgium and northern France?”
The monk blinked in surprise. “It might, though I’m not familiar with some of these places. They are only names to me.”
“It’s worth trying,” Suzanne said.
The reception room contained a small table as well as a bench and several plain wooden chairs. Simon sat down and did a swift sketch of the area, filling most of the piece of paper with the outlines of the country before adding in Brussels and the larger towns and a swath of northern France.
Seeing Suzanne’s raised brows, he said, “I was an exploring officer, you know. Maps were a large part of my work.”
She smiled. “You’re a man of parts,mon chéri.”
After half an hour’s discussion with Frère Pascal, Simon had a map of possibilities. He didn’t know if they would be useful, but at least he felt that he was doing something.
Before taking their leave of Frère Pascal, Simon asked about inns between Namur and Charleroi. The monk gave the name of one that wasn’t far, and promised to give Frère Jude a message from Simon if the bonesetter friar appeared at the priory.
When they were back in their carriage and heading south, Suzanne said, “Progress is being made.”
“I hope so. But I could spend a great deal of time chasing around this part of the world without success.” Simon sighed. “It occurs to me that if Frère Jude really is Lucas and he hears that I’m looking for him, he might choose to avoid me for the same reasons that he has never communicated with his family.”
“You might be right. There is no way to be sure,” Suzanne said. “But you have a plan of action now, and the area Frère Jude travels through is not enormous. It’s worth investing several months in the search.” She smiled a little. “At the least, we’ll see a selection of peaceful farms and fields and eat many fine country meals.”
He laughed and took her hand. “You’re right, milady. Now we’ll find that inn and dine on good country cooking, and we can start speculating about what we’ll find at Château Chambron.”
“It will be my turn to be nervous,” Suzanne said wryly. “But my quest is simpler than yours, I think.”
“What do you expect to find at the château?” he asked.
“I don’t really know.” She frowned. “I assume people are living there. Perhaps a powerful Bonapartist official has appropriated it. The property is beautiful and valuable.”
“What would you like to find?”
Her answer was slow in coming. “I would hope the occupants are people who will love the place and be happy there. Happier than I was.”
