Page 59 of A Noble Affair
“Good call, Jef.” Charles hadn’t underestimated the benefits of working with someone who knew the château as well as he did.
Chastity watched as the viscount’s mother cradled the painting in her hands—the one that had caused her late husband’s demise. Her hooded eyes were filled with tears. “Maman, you need to sit down,” her eldest daughter urged and led her to a chair.
Then she looked at the father of her child—the man she had even allowed to spend time alone with him—and she was filled with nausea. Jef had an arm on his elbow, and Marc refused to look at her. Charles was not paying any attention to her either, but was alternating his focus between the officers around him, and his mother, who was now leaning on him for support.
I don’t belong here, thought Chastity. Her face was hot and her pulse was racing. She couldn’t lift her eyes from the precious painting that now lay on a table between two guards. Her gaze darted to the viscount’s mother who had begun to find her speech. “How did this…? How could he…?”
Chastity didn’t wait a moment longer.No one will even notice I’m gone.She stifled a small sob and slipped away noiselessly.
29
Rays of sun streamed through the sheer white curtains of the apartment, and Chastity cracked the windows for the first time to let the fresh spring air filter through.It’s dusty, she thought dully, watching the particles floating and falling, highlighted by the sunbeam that shone through the opening in the curtains. She moved mechanically, making a sandwich for Thomas and setting it in front of him, and taking nothing for herself apart from a ripe peach.
He didn’t call. He didn’t miss me last night. He didn’t even call this morning. It’s over.
Her heart was heavy. She thought back to her walk home, shivering in the biting wind, stumbling in her pinched shoes, and heartbroken at the turn of events. The viscount’s mother was so shocked that the old painting had been there all along, and that someone had broken into their house again. Jean-Marc had been there because ofher. Charles, or Monsieur de Brase—she would have to revert to his formal name—probably thought she was an accomplice. Thinking it over as she walked home, there was no doubt in her mind that if Louis knew him, it was because her ex had been supplying him with drugs.
He must have done it to get into the château. How had he known about the painting? Did he get back in touch with her for the same reason? She had so many questions and no way of discovering the answers since she planned never to talk to him again.
Louis’s father was not likely to come back to the school as long as she was there. She would finish the remaining three months without needing to run into him even once. She was certain he would avoid her now.At least I hope so, she tried to tell herself.
“Why, you’re home already? Didn’t Charles accompany you?” Elizabeth had been surprised and concerned when Chastity walked, windblown and alone, through the door much earlier than expected. Thomas had only just fallen asleep.
“Oh no, there was an attempted art theft,” she managed to say. “It just seemed better to come home on my own because he had a lot to manage with the police officers and his family. Can I tell you more about it on Monday? I’m just so tired right now.”
“Of course.”
Chastity could see her friend wanted to ask her more questions and was glad when she refrained. Elizabeth gathered her things and walked to the door. “Get some rest,” she said, and gave her friend a hug.
When she was gone, Chastity unzipped her dress and took her makeup off. She collapsed on the bed, hot tears streaking down her cheeks, until she finally rolled into the pillow and sobbed quietly.
“Mom, are you sad today?”Thomas’s small voice jolted her back to daylight and to reality.
“I am sad,” she answered, clearing her throat. Her eyes were heavy, and it was impossible to try and hide it from him. He accepted her admission and attacked his sandwich again. She stood and brought her tea cup to the sink, but Thomas’s next words stopped her dead in her tracks.
“Are you sad because my father’s a criminal?”
“What?” She spun around. “Why would you say that?”
“I heard him talking meanly to a kid at school and threatening him. I heard him say something about drugs.” He took a sip of his water.
“Honey, why didn’t you tell me?” Her eyes filled with tears that she blinked away.
“I didn’t remember. And then I didn’t know.” Thomas wrinkled his brow. “Or—I didn’t know it was him at first, and then I didn’t think to say anything.”
“How did you figure out it was him?” his mother prodded.
“I heard his voice when I was sleeping in the hospital, and it made me remember his voice at the school when I couldn’t see it was him.” He picked up his sandwich matter-of-factly.
“Oh.” She could find nothing to say.
“Is that why you’re sad, Mommy? Do you want me to be nice to him?”
“Don’t talk with your mouth full, sweetheart. No, baby. I don’t want you to be nice to him. We’re never going to see him again.”
The door buzzer rang, and Chastity jumped to her feet, her heart beating wildly. Could it be…? She went over to the intercom. “Allô?”
“It’s Charles,” was the clipped response. His voice sounded hard, and her hands turned to ice.Maybe he’s coming to accuse me of having something to do with the theft.She buzzed him in, forcing herself to breathe.
