Meeting Noelle’s gaze, Eric replied, “A fever, just as Mrs. Lawley said. But it wasn’t like Brigitte’s fever. It was much worse. She had influenza, it was a very cold winter, and I wasn?
??t there to take care of her.”
“Wasn’t she at Farrington?”
“No, Noelle, she wasn’t.”
A thoughtful silence. “Mama ran away, didn’t she?”
Eric tensed. “Who told you that?”
“The Willetts. They didn’t actually tell me. I just overheard them during one of their arguments. I covered my ears, ’cause I didn’t want to hear the rest.” A resigned sigh. “But I guess I always knew the truth. Even Mama didn’t want me.”
An emotional knife pierced Eric’s heart. “It wasn’t a question of …” He broke off, desperately seeking the right words to say. “It wasn’t that simple, Noelle. Your mother was beautiful and spirited, just like you. But she was very young when you were born—very young and very confused. She couldn’t cope; she wasn’t strong enough.” Staunchly, he sustained the myth that would keep Liza’s name as untarnished for Noelle as it was for Farrington’s one-time servants, for the villagers, for everyone who believed him an ogre. “The fault was mine, Noelle. I was cruel to her. Angry and cruel. My rage frightened her and, eventually, drove her away.”
“Brigitte’s not frightened of you.”
A corner of Eric’s mouth lifted. “No, it appears she isn’t.”
“Neither am I.” Noelle climbed into his lap. “Do you know what I think? I think Brigitte’s right. I think you loved Mama a whole lot. I think you just pretend Mama’s running away was your fault ’cause you want people to hate you. That way they’ll leave you alone and you won’t have to remember and your tummy won’t hurt. You’re doing that adult stuff you were talking about—shelf-illusion and protection. But you know what, Uncle? I don’t believe you. You’re not cruel.” To Eric’s amazement, Noelle wrapped her arms about his neck and hugged him. “You’re a hero,” she whispered. “You saved my life.” Groping behind her, she grabbed hold of a clump of damp fur, shoving it unceremoniously in Eric’s face. “Fuzzy’s, too. We love you.”
Were those actually tears he felt burning behind his eyes?
“Thank you, Noelle.” That shattered voice bore no resemblance to his own. “I didn’t think I needed that, but it turns out I do. Very much.”
“I’m glad.” Noelle dried her cheeks, the look she gave him one of profound wisdom. “Maybe, if you add Brigitte’s love to mine and Fuzzy’s, you won’t be so angry anymore. Maybe that bad shelf-illusion will go away. And then maybe you can be happy.” With that, Noelle gave a huge yawn. “I think I can go back to sleep now.” She wriggled between the sheets, sighing contentedly—until she felt Eric’s weight lift from the bed. “Are you returning to your chambers?” A flash of fear darted across her face.
“No. I’m using a lumpy chair in Brigitte’s room as my bed. That way, I can keep an eye on her and also be nearby if you need me. Is that more to your liking?”
A broad smile. “Much more.” Noelle nestled into the pillows. “Uncle?”
“H-m-m?”
“Will you come to my birthday party?”
Silence.
“I won’t chest-ize you if you can’t,” she continued sleepily. “But it would be a whole lot easier for you if you could. That way, I won’t have to fall out of trees to get to see you and you won’t have to rescue me from drowning in ponds.”
A chuckle rumbled in Eric’s chest. “I see your logic, little schemer. I’ll consider the invitation.”
“Good night, Uncle.”
“Good night, Noelle.”
“Uncle?”
“Yes, Noelle.”
“What’s my punishment going to be?”
“Swimming lessons. For you, Brigitte, and Fuzzy. Given by the most grueling of instructors. Me.”
Eight
A NOISE OF SOME KIND PERMEATED BRIGITTE’S CONSCIOUSNESS.
Frowning, she opened her eyes, wondering if Noelle had called her. It was obviously late at night, judging from the darkness of her room and the depth of her slumber.