Yet Catherine had looked surprisingly well when she arrived that morning. Not withdrawn and without spirit as she had been when she left the house the previous afternoon. It had been only when Juliette had begun to take charge and make suggestions that Catherine’s lethargy had returned.
Juliette could feel the tears burn her eyes and she blinked them away angrily. There could be other explanations. François didn’t have to be correct. She didn’t have to give up Catherine just because what he said had a few grains of truth.
You smother her.
You’re beginning to destroy her.
No one is worse for Catherine than you.
Or is it you who need her?
She had thought she was doing what was best for Catherine. Now she wasn’t sure of anything. François’s words had struck a chord that vibrated with the ring of truth.
She walked slowly from the salon and up the stairs.
Catherine lay on the bed staring at the ceiling, her gaze blank and dreamy. She was in the state Juliette had become accustomed to seeing her in the last few weeks. Now, after glimpsing the vivaciousness of her expression when she’d arrived so few minutes before with François, it came as a fresh shock.
Juliette smiled with an effort and came to sit on the bed beside her. “François said you were frightened last night.”
“Yes, there were some men at the inn who reminded me of—” Catherine stopped. “I wanted to run back here, but François wouldn’t let me. I knew you wouldn’t allow anyone to hurt me.”
“And I make you feel safe?”
“Oh, yes, always. I never have to worry about anything when you’re with me. You keep everything away from me.”
You won’t let her stand alone.
Juliette felt her hopes plummet as she reached outand took Catherine’s hand. “Tell me what happened last night.”
Catherine didn’t look at her. “I’d rather not talk. May I go down to the garden now?”
Catherine would go down to the garden and sit in dreamy silence. She would go to Vasaro and the silence would journey with her. Why? Because Juliette would be there to keep anything that might break the silence away from Catherine.
“Yes, you may go to the garden,” Juliette said numbly.
Mother of God, she hadn’t wanted Etchelet to be right.
Jean Marc helped Catherine into the carriage and looked beyond her at Philippe on the opposite seat. “Send a messenger as soon as you arrive safely at Vasaro. I wish to know at once.”
Philippe nodded. “I’ll take care of them, Jean Marc.”
“You’re damned right you will. Where’s Juliette?”
“She went back inside to fetch the shawl Catherine left in the garden.”
“Etchelet’s meeting you shortly before you reach the barriers to make sure you get through without difficulty. You have the papers?”
“I’m not a fool, Jean Marc.”
Jean Marc didn’t answer as he turned and started to climb the steps. He met Juliette coming out of the front door as he reached the top step. She wore a dark green traveling gown and matching bonnet, and a blue silk shawl was draped over her left arm. “You have it? Good, get in the carriage.”
“Why aren’t you going with her, Jean Marc?” Juliette’s voice was low, her face shadowed by the brim of her bonnet. “You should be the one to go with her. After all, she’s your responsibility.”
“I believe you’ve pointed that out before,” Jean Marc said dryly. “I can’t leave Paris now. The National Convention’s in the middle of a debate about whetherto confiscate more ships for the navy. If I’m not here to stop it, they’ll strip my shipyards even of the ships under construction.”
“Business again?”
“Philippe will send for me if there’s a problem. Once you’re beyond the barriers, you’ll be safe. Vasaro is a world of its own.”
