Spring Fires by Cynthia Wright

Author:Cynthia Wright [Wright, Cynthia]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub, pdf
Tags: Romance, Regency, Historical, Fiction
ISBN: 9780345275141
Google: -ek7wPnUuPQC
Amazon: 0345275144
Publisher: Ballantine
Published: 1983-02-12T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 30

May 10, 1793

Lisette attempted to speak, without success.

"Gabrielle..." Nicholai whispered in disbelief. "It's impossible!"

"Perhaps—" She swallowed, then licked her lips. "Perhaps you would like to go into the study... for some privacy—while you read her letter."

Lisette's voice came to him through a fog. He didn't want to keep her at arm's length because of this incredible—impossible!—letter, but there was Hyla Flowers in the doorway and he had no intention of sharing secrets with her. "I believe that I will just look this over briefly alone. If you ladies will excuse me—"

The last glimpse that Lisette had of Nicholai's dazed expression frightened her. What did it mean? she wondered as she watched him disappear down the narrow corridor.

For nearly a half hour, Lisette fussed over details of the meal they were serving that noon. She spoke sharply to Chastity while the girl was assembling a tray of dishes, then lost her temper when Nancy accidentally dropped a stoneware mug that shattered the instant it struck the brick floor. Finally, she turned on Hyla Flowers.

"I want you to look after things for a few minutes. I will return shortly." Without waiting for a reaction from the older woman, Lisette turned and hurried toward the study.

When she entered, she discovered Nicholai standing and staring out the garden window. He gave no indication that he had heard her enter... or that he was even aware of his surroundings.

Quietly, Lisette crossed the room and touched his coat sleeve. "I do hope it's not bad news," she whispered awkwardly.

He saw her then, his eyes registering a flicker of surprise. "Oh—Lisette." Automatically, he gathered up the sheets of parchment that were scattered with such seeming negligence across the faded red chaise. "I'm in rather a daze, I suppose. It is difficult to believe that Gabrielle can truly be alive. I almost wonder if I should believe it!"

"You don't suspect that her letter could be some kind of hoax?"

"No, no, that's not possible. There are too many references in her letter to—ah—incidents that only the two of us would know about... and besides, I recognize the style of her script. It's just a shock." He ran a hand through his hair and smiled bemusedly. "A happy one, of course, but one which requires adjustment. I mean, I went through hell and I grieved for her, and at last I resigned myself to the fact of Gabrielle's death and I put her in my past...."

It seemed that Gabrielle herself had tightened an icy hand around Lisette's heart. He had loved the beautiful Frenchwoman so much that he still had dreams about her—and now she had returned, as if from the dead! "Well, it's a miracle, then, isn't it? Adjusting to a miracle should be quite a happy task."

The ragged edge of Lisette's voice broke through his distraction. The letter from Gabrielle was disturbing, but he had come to realize, since Lisette, that his relationship with the comtesse had been less than satisfying in many respects. The deepening love between himself and Lisette, however—so keenly sweet, arousing, and fragile—was another matter.

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