Juliette’s expression was totally blank, her gaze fixed unseeingly before her. Her drenched white nightgown clung to her thin body, and raindrops were running down her cheeks, but she acted as if she didn’t feel them.
She turned and moved back toward the door, fumbling at the lock. “The abbey. I can do it right this time. I have to go…”
Jean Marc stepped in front of her and leaned against the door, blocking her way while his gaze raked her face. A chill ran through him that had nothing to do with the clamminess of his rain-soaked clothing.
Good God, she was asleep! He had heard tales of people walking and talking while asleep, but he had never believed them. Or perhaps it wasn’t sleep but some disorder of the mind.
“Blood.” She had the lock undone and was tugging frantically at the door. “I have to stop the blood.” She was becoming agitated, her eyes glinting with tears. “Why can’t I stop the blood?”
“Juliette, don’t.” He grasped her shoulders. “Let me—”
She screamed.
He went rigid as the raw, tormented sound tore through him.
He couldn’t stand it. He shook her, hard. Harder.“Sacre bleu, wake up! I’ll not have this, Wake—”
“Will you please stop shaking me?” Juliette askedhaughtily. “I knew you wanted to hurt me, but this is uncalled for.”
“You’re awake.” Relief surged through him. Her eyes were not only clear but snapping with anger at him. His hands dropped from her shoulders as he stepped back. “Mother of God, you frightened me.”
“You should be frightened. I’m very angry. Why did you carry me down here?”
He gazed at her in astonishment. “I didn’t. You were asleep and walked downstairs and out—”
“Poppycock. No one walks while sleeping, and I certainly wouldn’t.”
“Have it your way.” His gaze narrowed on her face. “You remember nothing?”
“What is there to remember? You obviously came to my chamber and carried me here for some purpose of your own.” She frowned down at the wet gown clinging to her body. “And why did you open the door and let the rain come in? I’m all wet.”
“My apologies.” He studied her face. Clearly, she not only had no memory of what had transpired but was fabricating excuses to keep from remembering. “Perhaps you’d better go up and change your gown. I’ll wake Marie and have her prepare tea.”
“That won’t be necessary. I shall have no trouble going to sleep, if you’re finished with your little jest.”
“Oh, I’ve quite finished.”
She turned away, the cotton nightgown undulating with her body as she moved toward the staircase.
“Do you ever dream of the abbey, Juliette?”
She stopped but didn’t turn around. “No, of course not. Don’t you remember? It’s Catherine who has the bad dreams. I’ve put all thoughts of thosecanaillesbehind me.”
“I see.” He stood at the bottom of the stairs and watched her as she climbed the stairs and disappeared down the corridor.
It’s not finished.
I have to go back to the abbey.
Let me do it right this time.
Strange words for a woman who had put those memories behind her.
He blew out the candles and moved toward the stairs. He would change his wet clothes and then go back to the study and try to work. He doubted if he would succeed, but he knew he was even less likely to rest now than he had been before, when it was only his body that was frustrated.
All his life he’d had a passion for unraveling riddles, and now it was his mind that was intrigued by the puzzle Juliette had flung at him to solve.
Anne Dupree sat down gracefully on the satin couch, spreading her wide brocade skirts primly. “You appear in good health, Raoul. You haven’t been to see me in over two months and if I hadn’t heard how busy you’ve been, I’d accuse you of neglecting me.”
