Despite the Angels - By Madeline A Stringer Page 0,55

see the priest, stretched out on the ground in the shade beside his tent, his head on the book and the flagon lying on its side on the sand. He sighed. It had been a short mass. He hoped that it would work and that his mother would get her value and also that she would not notice the sleeping priest. He spurred his horse on, back the way they had come.

The party stopped again at the little chapel and walked around the side of it, to a large open meadow, down the edge of which there was a row of shady trees. The rugs were laid under the largest tree, the table was set up and at last the food could be unpacked. Eloise chose a place on the rugs and listened to the wind in the leaves above her.

“The wind is making a lovely sound, Monsieur, listen. Gentle. I did not like the sound of the sea, it was too big. I do not want to see it again.”

“No, we will stay away from it in future. But we should never forget that it brought us together, never forget its power. Its power…” Daniel fell silent as he felt the hairs on his spine rise in a ripple that ran up to the back of his neck. He looked at Eloise in sudden concern and knelt beside her, raising her hand to his lips. Her hazel eyes looked into his, puzzled, then she smiled and squeezed his fingers a little as he let go.

“Oh Sir, you should not blame the sea. It was you and your flower that really had the power over me. I would not have been there at the sea with you if it had not been for that flower and the dancing!” Their hands had just met again when Madame deVrac’s voice broke through their self absorption with enquiries about their preferences for duck breast or leg and a complaint about the cheese having been stored on its side.

“I do not know, really, what these servants are thinking of sometimes. That lovely cheese has leaked all over the fruit. Such a waste.”

“Just as well really,” whispered Daniel to Eloise, “if it had not, she would have been berating us for unseemly behaviour in front of the servants!” He squeezed her hand and got up to help with the food and mollify his mother.

Eloise, alone for a moment, picked up Marie-Claire and spoke softly to her.

“My precious little one, I will protect you always, for ever. You do not need to fear that big rough sea, you are never going near it again. I am going to keep you safe.” Marie-Claire slept on, comfortable in the warm shade.

Eloise sat in the shade, nibbling at the pastries spread out on the table and sipping a glass of rich red wine. Her fingers were still greasy from the confit and cheese and she rubbed them with the stiff linen napkin. Her eyes closed, and she could hear more clearly the musicians clattering about as they got out their instruments, the ladies and gentlemen chatting, laughing, and in one case snoring, and the servants gossiping as they packed away the leftovers. She could distinguish very little, but because they were village people and spoke in her dialect, the odd word came through with startling clarity. As she drifted on the edge of sleep she heard ‘Nicholas ….anger…Nantes ….Paris …….cousin ...trouble …….good man’ and her mind drifted back to her childhood, when her brother’s friend Nicholas had teased her, catching her hands and swinging her round, telling her it was only a matter of time and she would dance with him, to his tune. I wonder why Luc liked him, why he never asked him to stop? It seemed he had assumed that if he liked Nicholas, I must too. Of course, if Nicholas had behaved like all the other boys in the village, I would have liked him better, maybe even enough to dance with him, or more. But that air of ownership he put on, that was unattractive. As though I had no mind of my own. Well, I showed him I have a mind, when I danced with Daniel. Though I didn’t dance with Daniel to show Nicholas anything, I wasn’t thinking of him at all. So why am I thinking of him now? He does not matter to me.

“Not directly, you’re right. But get Daniel to listen when he comes to talk to him. Everyone