Michel’s words suddenly came back to her.Monsieur Philippe enjoys the flowers but he doesn’t understand them. “That’s a pity. I think he understands you very well.”
“What are you going to do?” He tried to smile. “I suppose you’ll tell Jean Marc? He’ll send me away from Vasaro, you know.”
“No, I’m not going to tell Jean Marc.”
An expression of relief brightened Philippe’s features. “That’s kind of you.”
“I won’t tell anyone. You love Vasaro and you serve it well.” She met his gaze. “But I can’t look at you right now. I want you to go away for a time.”
“Where?”
“Anywhere. Go visit your mother and sisters for six months. Leave today.”
“But you’ll need me at Vasaro. You don’t know a tenth of the things you should about running the property.”
“Then I’ll learn them from Monsieur Augustine and the pickers and Michel.” She paused. “And whenyou return you’ll find Michel has moved up to the manor and will be raised as a gentleman.”
“But the son of a common picker wouldn’t be comfortable at—” Philippe saw the hardening of her expression and hurried on. “I can’t acknowledge him. Jean Marc would be angered and send me away.”
“Jean Marc doesn’t own Vasaro. I decide whether you go or stay,” Catherine said. “But I have no desire for you to acknowledge Michel. It’s too late.”
“Yes.” Philippe nodded quickly. “I’m glad you see I meant no harm. If you like, I’ll try to become better acquainted with him.”
“Oh, no.” Her tone held irony. “Not when he makes you uncomfortable.”
She turned and walked away from him.
“The Wind Dancer,” Catherine murmured as she crossed the bedchamber toward the window seat where Juliette sat sketching. “But won’t it be dangerous going into Spain at this time?”
“I don’t see why.” Juliette’s pen moved with lightning strokes over the pad on her lap. Her gaze was on the pickers in the field below. “After all, I speak the language and we’re not at war with Spain yet. After he lands at La Escala, Jean Marc will buy horses and travel overland just below the Pyrenees to Andorra. If I’m questioned by guards, we can always say I’m fleeing France for my grandfather’s home. God knows, there are enough émigrés these days to make that appear true. No, I shall do splendidly.” She grimaced. “And we have François to protect Jean Marc.”
Catherine looked startled. “François is supposed to protect Jean Marc?”
“Danton says that is François’s purpose in accompanying us.” A smile tugged at Juliette’s lips. “I find it amusing too. It’s like a panther protecting a tiger,n’est-ce pas?”
“And what does Jean Marc say?”
“He thinks Danton sent François to see what he’s doing in Spain. Which is probably correct.”
“I’m confused. You keep saying Jean Marc, yet you tell me you also are going.”
“I am.” Juliette sketched in a plump baby kicking joyfully in a straw basket next to one of the pickers. “But Jean Marc says I’m to stay here at Vasaro and has convinced everyone he’ll have his way.”
“He usually does,” Catherine said. “I wish you would stay here. I don’t like the thought of you leaving again.”
“I told you why I must go. How can I expect Jean Marc to give me the money for the Wind Dancer if he finds it himself?”
“He said he’d still give it to you.”
“We made a bargain.” Juliette’s jaw set stubbornly. “A bargain must be kept.”
Catherine sat down on the window seat and leaned back against the wall of the alcove, her gaze on Juliette’s face. “I believe you’ve changed too.”
Juliette shook her head. “I’m always the same.”
“No, there’s something…softer.”
“You’re looking at me with clearer eyes. I was never as bold and strong as you thought I was.” Juliette kept her gaze on the sketch. “François once told me it was I who needed you. He must have been right, for you don’t need me at all now.” She smiled with an effort. “You’ve grown beyond me. How did it happen?”
