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“Vicky, whatever is amiss?” Instantly at a loss, he glanced over his shoulder toward Sloane’s room. She could handle tears. He was utterly inept at it.
“No.” The word, strangled with tears but violent, burst from her lips.
He looked back to his niece. She was shaking—quivering with whatever was happening.
He approached the bed, his fingertips tapping on the edge of the peach coverlet. “Whatever it is, I’m sure Sloane can help.”
“No.” Vicky’s head shook, fat curls swinging about her heart-shaped face. “Not Sloane—she cannot help.”
“Why not?”
“It is her—it is about her. I thought I could forget—I thought I could sleep, but then I had a dream and it was so awful—so awful.” Her voice petered into half-swallowed sobs.
With a deep breath Reiner sat on the edge of the bed, his hand awkwardly lifting to pat Vicky’s arm. “Would you like to tell me of it?”
Her eyes went wide. “No. No, no, no—not if it will harm Sloane.”
“Why would it hurt Sloane?”
Vicky shook her head, her hands gripping onto the edge of the coverlet and pushing the folds of fabric under her chin.
“Vicky, why would your dream harm Sloane?”
She shook her head again, curls swinging wide.
Reiner moved up on the bed, leaning in. “Vicky, you need to tell me whatever it is that has put the fear of the devil in you.”
His niece bit back another sob. “You will not harm her?”
“Harm her—Vicky—I would never. But you need to tell me this instant what is happening.”
“You swear it?”
“I do.”
It took her four more breaths before she let the coverlet drop from her chin. “I heard her talking with a man and I don’t believe it, but she said it. She said it, Uncle Reiner. I didn’t want it to be true but she said it.”
“Sloane? What did she say?”
“She’s not who you think she is.”
“What?”
“She didn’t see me in the hallway. She was in a room in the north wing and she was talking with a man—I didn’t see who he was. I only stopped and hid because I heard her voice and I thought to ask her to come to the kitchens with me for a tart. But then she started saying things—awful, awful, awful things.”
“What did she say?” He attempted to shift his voice into calmness even as a rock was dropping to his stomach.
“She said you were a fool in love and that she wanted to ruin you. She said she wanted to take her pound of flesh from you. That she would use some book to undo you. That you fell in love with her and she would use that to destroy you. But that isn’t the worst.”
His lips stretched to a tight line. “What is?”
“She said you would never let your ruin affect me or her—that you would take care of the matter yourself—she meant you would kill yourself before letting harm come to us.”
“Vicky—”
“No—she said it, Uncle Reiner—she said it and she meant it. You would kill yourself.”
“I’m not going to kill myself, Vicky. You can be assured on that.”
