Page 30 of A Noble Affair
“I’m sorry. There was a delay in the train schedule. So do you have news on the buyer?”
“Yes, I’m in touch with him. Come, let’s walk.” Cyril surged forward without waiting to see if Jean followed. “The buyer’s a Russian, and he’ll be ready to receive the package when his cargo ship has been reloaded and is ready to return. That’s going to be some time towards the beginning of April. I’ve got the driver in place, but you need to let me know now if you’re sure of your end of the deal.”
“I’m getting there, and I’ll be ready by then,” Jean reassured him. “I’m working on getting through the point of entry so I can come and go without detection. Once I’m through, all that’ll be left is for me to choose the right moment when no one’s around.”
“The place is more fully guarded than it was twenty years ago,” Cyril warned. “I hope you have a better plan than breaking a window or picking a lock. If that were the case, I’d use one of my own men.”
Gaining confidence, Jean shook his head. “It’s all about relationships, and I have two in place that’ll allow me to gain access when I need it.”
Cyril dodged sometourists and walked back next to Jean. “I’ll need to have more specific details before long to make sure there aren’t any screw-ups.”
“As soon as I get a few more items in place—namely figuring out when it’s going to happen—I’ll let you know everything.”
“I’m counting on that.” Cyril nodded in Jean’s direction before taking abrupt leave of him again. This time Jean was less disconcerted by the encounter. It didn’t matter how much more cunning or dangerous Cyril was. Jean knew he had something Cyril did not—the map.
* * *
Chastity flutteredaround the hospital room, picking dead leaves off the plant that had been brought in by Maude, tucking the teddy bear sent by her parents next to her son’s arm, only to remove it and put it back next to the window where he would see it when he opened his eyes. She walked back to his side and sat, kissing his cheek with great care and taking hold of his hand.
“Hi, baby,” she murmured. “Now that the room’s in order, shall we continue with our story of Harry Potter?”
She reached over and grabbed her reading glasses mechanically, but she didn’t pull the book out right away. In the week that her son had been in a coma, she hadn’t left his side except to shower. She knew that French law permitted her to extend her paid leave of absence because her son was gravely injured, but she was beginning to accept that her son might be in this state for some time. Then what would she do? She had no family here, and she couldn’t imagine ever leaving him to go back to work. If his coma were of long duration, she would have to—
Oh, I can’t think about that now.
Mr. de Brase—Docteur de Brase—had been in every day since the accident and, almost without realizing it, she had begun to look forward to his visits. He spared those few extra minutes after examining Thomas to provide subtle reassurance. He dropped comments like how the body used the coma to allow itself to heal, and it was by no means a sign he wouldn't wake up. Or he would tell her of a case he handled a few years back where the child was hit in exactly the same way as Thomas, and how the end-result had been better than anyone had hoped. She would have been hard-put to explain exactly why, but her spirits always lifted by the time he left.
“Bonjour, Madame.” A handsome young man with a large smile walked into the room. He came over and shook her hand, speaking in perfect English. “I’m an intern in this hospital, and my name is Dr. Okonkwo. Docteur de Brase charged me with keeping a special eye on your son.” His broad smile caused her own to appear.
“Are you studying to be a neurosurgeon too then?”
“It’s my plan,” he replied. “This is my sub-internship so it’s not too late to decide on a different specialty, but if I can get a residency here, this is the field I would choose.”
“You’re not French,” Chastity observed.
“No, I’m Nigerian. I was studying in Cambridge with Docteur de Brase’s niece, and she made the introductions that allowed me to intern here.”
“Oh, that was kind of him to bring you in,” she said, politely. “You must be fluent in French then.”
“Yes. I went to the Lycée Français in Lagos.”
“I went to the Lycée Français in New York.” Chastity smiled. “I guess learning to be fluent in Frenchhas its uses after all, since we both ended up here.”
The intern went over to Thomas and checked the catheter and the stitches, making notes in the patient’s file. “Has he shown any movement that’s new?”
“No.” She shook her head. “He sometimes jerks suddenly, but he did that right from the beginning. The doctor said it’s not necessarily a sign of awareness.”
“That’s tr—” The intern was interrupted.
“Bonjour, Mademoiselle.” The viscount strode into the room and clasped Chastity’s hand warmly, before shaking the intern’s. “Samuel.”
“So you were able to come earlier than expected,” the intern observed.
“Yes. My estate manager is quickly getting up to speed, and I’m able to extricate myself more easily these days.” Dr. de Brase smiled at Chastity as he said this. “So, you’ve been introduced to our intern then.”
“I have.”
“Has he reviewed your son’s progress with you?” Dr. de Brase caught her gaze, and Chastity felt her heart spark to life. She was able to breathe again when he lowered his eyes and studied the patient’s chart.
