“The twins?” Carefully noting the fine quality of the deep gray wool of her gown, he caught Nicole’s eyes. “Of what age?”
“Six.”
“They are not yours?”
“I care for them.”
He smiled. “Good. I believe I must make do with your mill. I would not like to be awakened by children.”
As Nicole started toward her cape by the door, Janie stopped her. “You go to your mother and see that she’s all right. I’ll take care of him.”
Smiling gratefully, she bid Gerard goodnight and went upstairs to where her mother lay peacefully sleeping. The storm had subsided outside, and gentle flakes of snow were silently falling. As Nicole held her mother’s warm hand in hers and watched her, she was flooded with memories—her mother lifting her and swinging her about just before she left for a court ball, her mother reading to her, pushing her in a swing. When Nicole was eight years old, Adele had had identical dresses made for them. The king said that someday the two of them would be twins, for Adele would never grow older.
“Nicole,” Janie said when she returned. “You are not going to sit there all night. Your mother needs rest.”
“I won’t disturb her.”
“And you won’t help her either. If you don’t sleep tonight, you’ll be too tired tomorrow to be of any use to her.”
Even though she knew Janie was right, Nicole sighed because she was afraid that if she closed her eyes her mother would disappear. Reluctantly, she stood and kissed her mother before turning away to get undressed.
An hour before sunrise, everyone in the little house was awakened by hideous screams—screams of absolute terror. As the twins shot out of their beds and ran to Janie, Nicole ran to her mother’s side.
“Mama, it’s me, Nicole. Nicole! Your daughter. Mama, be still, you’re safe.”
The woman’s wild-eyed terror showed she obviously did not understand Nicole’s words. Even though Nicole spoke in French, the words had no effect; Adele was still afraid, still screaming, screaming as if her whole body were being torn apart.
The twins put their hands over their ears and hid in the folds of Janie’s flannel nightgown.
“Get Mr. Gautier,” Nicole shouted, holding her mother’s flailing hands as she fought her daughter.
“I am here,” he said from the head of the stairs. “I thought she might wake like this. Adele!” he said sharply. Then, when she didn’t respond, he slapped her hard across the cheek. The screams stopped at once, and she blinked a few times, then collapsed, sobbing, into Gerard’s arms. He held her for a moment before quickly putting her down on the bed.
“She’ll sleep for about three hours now,” he said, rising before turning back toward the stairs.
“Mr. Gautier!” Nicole said. “Please, there must be something we can do. We can’t go off and just leave her.”
He turned and smiled at Nicole. “There is nothing anyone can do. Your mother is totally insane.” Shrugging as if the matter meant very little to him, he went down the stairs.
Pausing only long enough to grab her bedrobe from its peg, Nicole raced down the stairs after him. “You can’t just say something like that and leave,” she said. “My mother has been through some horrible experiences. Surely, after she rests and is once again sure of her surroundings, she will recover.”
“Perhaps.”
Janie entered the room, the twins close behind her. By silent agreement, the discussion was postponed until everyone had eaten and the twins were out of the house.
As Janie cleared the dishes away, Nicole turned to Gerard. “Please tell me what happened to my mother after your father rescued her.”
“She never recovered,” he said simply. “Everyone thought she was so brave when she was walking to her death, but the truth was she had long ago lost touch with reality. They had kept her in prison for a long time, and she’d seen one after another of her friends taken away to be executed. After a while, I guess her mind refused to accept that the same fate awaited her.”
“But when she was safe,” Nicole said, “didn’t that reassure her?”
Gerard looked with interest at his fingernails. “My father should not have rescued her. There was much danger in keeping one of the aristocracy in our house. The day he took her, the crowd was for hi
m, but later someone could turn us in to the citizens’ committee. It was very dangerous for all of us. My mother began to cry every night in fear. Adele’s screams woke the neighbors. They kept quiet about the woman we hid, but we wondered how long it would be before they asked for the reward offered for the duchess.”
Sipping on the coffee Janie had given him, he studied Nicole for a few moments. She was especially lovely in the morning light, her skin dewy from her night’s sleep, her eyes luminous as she listened to the story, and he rather liked the way she looked at him, expectantly, with great interest.
He continued, “When we heard that the duke had been killed, I went to the mill where he’d hidden. I wanted to know if there was anyone else left in the family. The miller’s wife was very angry because her husband had been murdered with the duke. It took me a long while to get her to tell me about Adele’s daughter and that you’d gone to England. At home, when my parents heard the story of the miller, they were very frightened. We knew we had to get Adele out of our house.”