Céleste breathed as slowly and deeply as she could, clinging to her calm. She was not prone to panic and refused to succumb to it now.
“That looks like an inn up ahead.” Aldric spoke without any obvious emotion. She unexpectedly appreciated that. “When we stop in front, I’ll take Adèle so you can climb down. Go directly inside.”
“You’ll go directly inside too?” she asked.
“We’ll be on your heels.”
Adèle watched him, a crease forming between her eyebrows. Céleste wished she were the one most able to offer her reassurance and a sense of security.
She bent closer to her niece. “Lean a bit against him again, Adèle. You’ll feel better.”
Adèle did just that, and the tension in her eased. Being with Henri had lifted so many of Céleste’s burdens when she was a little girl. She’d felt less alone, less afraid. It had been such a long time since she’d felt that way.
Aldric stopped the cart in front of the inn. He scooped up Adèle. Céleste grabbed the handle of her violin case and climbed out of the cart. She moved swiftly inside the inn. As promised, Aldric was only a step behind her.
A large bay window at the front of the public room they stepped into offered an unimpeded view of the innyard and the road leading to it. Céleste set herself there and watched the innyard. The carriage that had been following them would either arrive and pull in or pass by on the road. And it ought to happen in the next few minutes.
Aldric talked with the innkeeper. Céleste watched out the window.
And watched.
And watched.
The carriage never appeared. It didn’t pull into the innyard. It didn’t drive past. Nothing.
“I don’t understand,” she said when Aldric joined her at the window, Adèle still in his arms. “I couldn’t have missed the carriage.”
“Perhaps it stopped before reaching the inn,” he said.
She shook her head. “Stopped where? There wasn’t a road branching off in the short distance they would be covering. No houses. No paths.”
Aldric set a key in her hand. “Take Adèle up the stairs. First room on the left of the first-floor landing. Lock yourselves in.”
Lock yourselves in.That caused her lungs to hitch painfully.
“What about you?” She looked back at him. His eyes were on the window.
“The innkeeper tells me the room overlooks the yard. Set yourself at the window and watch for that carriage. I’ll wait down here until you’ve had enough time to begin your watch, then I’ll go out into the innyard and get the horse stabled.”
“I’d already forgotten about the horse and cart.” She shook her head. “I can’t seem to think clearly.”
“Removing to the countryside should have given you the rest you need. Instead, it’s offered you anything but.” He sounded so ... guilty. She had been less than truthful with him and Henri and all the others. Jean-François was the reason their time in the country had turned so chaotic. ButAldriclaid the blame for all of that at his own feet.
He handed Adèle over to her.
“No,” the little girl pleaded.
“I’ll be back soon,ma petite douce,” Aldric said. His eyes never left the window.
Céleste kept hold of Adèle’s hand and walked with her to the stairs, her heart breaking at the continued objections the poor girl made. She wanted to stay with Aldric. Céleste knew that pull so well.
They climbed the stairs, nervousness still knotted painfully in Céleste’s chest. Angry mobs. Burnt homes. A suspicious carriage. She tried to appear calm for Adèle’s sake.
First door to the left of the landing.
Once inside, she set down her violin case and released Adèle’s hand, then locked the door behind them. Remembering her instructions, she stood at the window and studied the innyard below and the road just visible beyond.
Aldric stepped out of the inn and returned to the cart. He looked up at the window from which she was watching him. Céleste gave a small wave, though she didn’t know if he could actually see her. He returned his attention to his task.
