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She turned and slowly walked from the salon and up the stairs. She couldn’t countenance the thought of food either. She was bewildered and saddened and yet there was a tiny ember of hope burning in the darkness. She must think and sort out her emotions before morning.

Before Francois left Vasaro.

An early morning fog lay over Vasaro, swathing the lushness of the blooming fields in a vaporous white veil.

“Francois!”

Francois turned as Catherine hurried toward him across the stable yard. She still wore the yellow satin gown she had worn last in the salon, and wisps of brown hair escaped the confines of her braid.

She stopped before him, out of breath. “Don’t go.”

He went still, his gaze on her face.

She took a step nearer. “Please. I don’t want you to go.

I want you to stay here with Michel and me.

I thought about what you said all night.

” She moistened her lips. “I don’t know if I love you, but I do feel something…

extraordinary when I’m with you. I want you to stay with me and we can see.

… Would it be so terrible to give me time to get accustomed to the idea? ”

“No, it wouldn’t be terrible at all,” he said gently. “It would be sweet and warm and all that’s wonderful. But nothing could come of it, Catherine.”

“Will you…embrace me?”

“Catherine…”

“It’s not much of a favor to ask.” She took a step nearer until she was only inches away. “I don’t think I’ll be afraid. I believe it will be different with you. But I won’t know unless you hold me.”

He pulled her gently into his arms and she lay quietly against him. His body was warm and strong and yet the strength brought not fear but a sense of security. “It’s really quite nice, isn’t it?” Her voice was trembling as she pressed closer to him. “Rather…sweet.”

“Yes.” His voice was muffled against her hair. “Yes, love. Sweet.”

Her arms went around him and she held him tightly. “Oh, I do love you, Francois,” she whispered. “Don’t go back to Paris. There’s nothing for you there. Will you stay with me for a little while and be patient? I’ll try not to be too long about—”

“No.”

She stiffened and looked up at him. His face was pale beneath the tan, his eyes glittering moistly in his taut face. “Why not?”

“I can’t do it.” His voice was thick. His palms cradled her cheeks, his lips slowly lowered until he was only a breath away. “Catherine. My Catherine…”

His warm mouth touched her lips with the most exquisite tenderness she’d ever known, clung, and then released her.

Wonder.

Then with sudden roughness he pulled her into his arms, his cold, hard cheek pressed against her own, cold and yet something warm dampened the flesh of her own cheek.

He lifted his head and drew a deep shuddering breath. He stepped back and quickly mounted his horse. “Good-bye, Catherine.”

He was leaving her, she thought desperately. Raw pain moved through her, surrounded her. But it made no sense for him to leave her. Not if he loved her.

She stiffened as she realized that perhaps it did make sense.

She took a step toward him. “Is it…because of what those men did to me at the abbey? You said it didn’t matter. Have you changed your mind?”

His gaze flew to her face.

“Because if it is, I don’t want you to stay. They treated me as if I were nothing. But I have worth. I tell you, I have worth.” She blinked back the tears. “But I have to know. Is that the reason you’re leaving? Because of what they did to me at the abbey?”

“Yes.”

She froze, her gaze on his face.

“Christ.” He looked down at her. “Not because of what those bastards did to you. You’re a thousand times the woman you were that night I found you at the abbey.”

“Then why—”

“Not because of what they did. Because of what I didn’t do. I could have stopped them from raping you. I had the choice and I chose to let them do it.”

She stared at him in shock.

“You want to know who the other man was who raped you? It was Dupree.” Francois’s words came hard, fast. “I’d just arrived at the abbey and Dupree recognized me as Danton’s man and welcomed me.

He took me to the south courtyard. There was a woman being torn apart by those filthy canailles .

I saw you run across the courtyard for the gate.

You looked like a child in the moonlight.

A child…” He closed his eyes. “Dupree and Malpan ran after you. Dupree was laughing…”

Shivers began to ice through Catherine.

“He called to me to come with them. I followed them to the gate and saw them chase after you up the hill to the cemetery.” He opened his eyes. “I could have gone after them and killed them. My God, how I wanted to do that.”

“But you didn’t,” she said numbly. “You let them…hurt me.”

“I made a choice. If I’d killed Dupree, I would have marked myself as a protector of aristocrats. I couldn’t do that, Catherine, but it was unforgivable.”

“Yes.” She crossed her arms over her chest to stop their trembling. “Unforgivable.”

He flinched and gathered up the reins. “Adieu , Catherine. If you have need of me, send word and—”

“I’ll not have need of you.”

“No, I don’t suppose you will.” He kicked the horse into a trot but reined in just before he reached the gate of the stable yard. He looked back at her, his expression tormented. “I do love you, Catherine.”

She gazed stonily at him across the stable yard.

She gave him no answer.

He didn’t expect one. He turned and rode away.

Within a few yards the fog claimed him and Francois vanished from sight as if he had never come to Vasaro.

Catherine walked toward the house, shuffling slowly, painfully, as if she were a very old woman.

She was cold. She must change from the silk gown into her old woolen one and then go down to the fields.

Michel would be at the fields. He would smile at her and some of the pain would go away.

She would not oversee today. She would pick herself and more of the agony would ease.

Vasaro would help her as it had helped her before.