A Sister's Quest Read Free Page A

left St. Bernard’s.” An uneasy expression crossed the headmistress’s face. “I was unsure if she meant when you finished your studies or when you departed, so I have delayed.”
    â€œBut what is it?”
    Frau Herbart murmured, “I believe it was her wedding ring.”
    â€œWith such an odd design?”
    â€œIt may have symbolized something to her and your father. Did she explain in the letter?”
    â€œI don’t see a letter.”
    Frau Herbart leaned forward. “When your mother gave me this package, she also gave me a letter for you. It must be there.”
    Michelle shook the brown paper. Nothing fell out.
    â€œI shall look for it in the morning,” Frau Herbart said. “It will be waiting when you come back from Vienna.”
    Michelle tried to smile, but could not. She slid the ring on and found a perfect fit on her middle finger. Dear Maman . Even after her death, she was reaching out to her daughter.
    She ran her finger along the ring, realizing she could not recall her mother wearing it. If it had been her wedding ring, Maman must have set it aside after her husband’s death.
    â€œWhy don’t you open the other package?” the headmistress asked. “Mayhap what is in there will explain.”
    Michelle picked up the box, which was as long as her forearm and about as thick. Pulling off the cloth, she found a latched case. She opened it and stared at the coins inside. “Oh, my!”
    Frau Herbart said with a gasp, “There must be hundreds of francs in there.”
    Michelle counted out several coins. She closed the box and handed it back to Frau Herbart. “I will take enough to pay for my journey from Vienna if the situation becomes …” She sought the proper word. “Intolerable.”
    â€œI think that is wise.” She smiled as Michelle stood. “However, I think you and Count Vatutin shall do admirably.”
    Bidding the headmistress a good evening, Michelle went into the hall. She put the coins on a table as she tied her bonnet into place. The coins twinkled in the lamplight. How had Maman amassed this fortune?
    Maman had been like no one else Michelle knew. She had shown no interest in remarrying, although the lot of a widow could not have been an easy one. The cost of boarding Michelle at St. Bernard’s had not been insignificant, and every Christmas and birthday had brought gifts, and Michelle’s gowns never had been allowed to become threadbare or too short. Somewhere, somehow, Maman had garnered enough money to pay for the apartment as well as her daughter’s schooling and this generous bequest. But how?
    She was asking too late. Maman had died when a rock slide hit her carriage near the French border. Tears blurred the sparkle of lamplight. Raising her hand, she stroked her mother’s ring. The past was over and dead. It was time to put aside the life Maman and others had chosen for her and discover the life she wanted.
    Dawn painted the distant mountains with rosy light, but sunrise had not reached the valley. Night clung to the gray stone buildings as Michelle huddled by the drive. In the distance, she could hear the exuberant students as they prepared for the day. It would be more than a month before she heard that familiar noise again.
    Taking a deep breath, she tightened her black cloak around her. She sat on her small portmanteau and balanced her scuffed satchel on her lap. A yawn pulled at her lips. Sleep had not come easily last night as she waited to be thrust into a new life.
    Wheels rattled on the road. She gasped. The approaching carriage was as ornate as the coach of a fairy-tale princess. Gold trim outlined the doors and accented the buttons on the driver’s coat, which was as scarlet as the wheels. She should have guessed a Russian count would possess something this grand.
    The coachman jumped down and opened the door with a flourish. When Count Vatutin stepped out, his