The Honorable Officer Read Free Page B

any more than it already was so brought his hand back down to the table.
    Mademoiselle Hélène turned to the serving girl. “Lily, could you watch Ondine for a short time while I speak to the colonel in the hall?”
    The girl agreed, glancing fearfully at Fourbier, who nodded. Jean-Louis followed Mademoiselle Hélène into the dark, cramped hall.
    “I did not wish to frighten Ondine. She understands most of what we say, though she doesn’t speak clearly yet.” She dragged her hand along the wall until they were ten feet from the breakfast room.
    Jean-Louis leaned against the opposite wall, glancing out a tiny, wavy window to where his carriage was waiting. He wondered again if this was a horrible waste of time.
    “You see, Ondine did not drink her milk, but the cat did. When the smoke started, Ondine cried for me to save the cat, but I found it on the floor under the bed, vomiting and twitching. I took up Ondine and opened the window and called for help as I stepped out onto the ledge.”
    “The third-story ledge by the nursery?” His heart wrenched.
    “Yes. I knew I could walk along it to the balcony two windows down. Amandine used to climb out to escape lessons. The ledge is wide enough to walk on, if one is careful. I had Ondine in the shawl I use to carry her when she gets tired on walks. She stayed very still.”
    Jean-Louis stared at Mademoiselle Hélène for a long time after she stopped talking. She was looking in his direction, but not meeting his eyes. He would not have thought her so bold as to walk along a ledge or speak an entire sentence. “Tell me the rest. Why your uncle did not agree there was a threat. Why you chose to leave anyway.”
    She sighed and looked down at her twisting hands. She was nervous, not bold at all. “He said the cat must have breathed smoke. The fire was put out very quickly. They were already throwing water on it when I came back in through the schoolroom. We were hardly in, though, when the window broke.”
    “Broke?” he snapped. “How?”
    “I’m not sure. The window, which is like a narrow door, really, jerked out of my hand and shattered,” she said. “And then I heard a crack .”
    His heart stuttered. He swallowed. “Like a gunshot?”
    “I don’t know. I thought it might be, but my uncle said I must have broken the window. I am clumsy.” She blushed and looked down.
    Jean-Louis rubbed the spot between his eyebrows, the spot where every headache started. “How did you determine this was a threat against Ondine?”
    She brought her head up, her jaw set. “We’ve had someone following us on walks. I started to bring a footman along because I thought I saw someone lurking in the trees. One time, in the village, a man darted out and tried to grab Ondine, but I held on and the footman chased him away. No one knew who the man was. My uncle said it was surely just a joke, but I found it extremely upsetting. But when the fire was set—because I believe it was set and not just an accident with a candle, as he said—I had to get Ondine away.”
    There was another long silence as Jean-Louis wondered about Mademoiselle Hélène’s ability to properly assess a kidnap or murder threat, especially as she surely could not see well enough to identify anyone. He sighed.
    “Was I wrong, Monsieur?” Her voice squeaked. “I was so frightened for Ondine. I didn’t know to whom I could turn, but since you are her father, I thought you would know what to do. She’s…she is the most precious thing in the world to me.” Mademoiselle Hélène’s voice broke. “I know I am not her mother, but I feel as though I am.”
    Jean-Louis turned his back on the weeping lady. Tears had always been his weakness. How many times had his late wife lied to him through tears? And how many times had his mother warped his childhood with a delicate show of tears after a display of temper and spite?
    He had escaped the family home at ten, for which he had been grateful. At the time, he had