The unique scent of his skin mixed with salt and cedar. I blinked, feeling lightheaded, a wave of sadness burning my throat.
My legs felt weak with the urge to crawl into the bed, surrounded by his scent, and wait for his return.
Realizing I was standing still, staring at the bed, I shook my head. Astrid gave me a sad and knowing smile before pointing to an empty shelf and saying something in French. I gathered there were no spare sheets in the closet, or they were already on the bed. I wasn’t sure which. She straightened the bed, and then we went back downstairs.
Jorge was halfway up with Madame’s valise and nodded to me. “Any news?” I asked as I passed.
“Madame is speaking with Monsieur Pascale now.”
I pulled out my phone and rounded the corner into a large charming kitchen.
There was a text from a number I didn’t recognize.
I have her. We will not be back until late. X.
Xavier.
I gave a gasp of relief as I locked eyes with Madame. She was smiling and nodding, her phone to her ear as she caught my eye.
Feeling dizzy with relief, I slumped into a chair at the large wooden kitchen table. I responded to several texts from Andrea asking for an update.
I was going to hug Dauphine so tight I’d have to be careful not to crack a bone in her tiny bony.
And he’d texted me. That had to mean he didn’t think I was involved any more, surely?
Chapter Forty-Four
Sounds permeated my consciousness, and I blinked my eyes open. A small lamp threw shadows up the stucco walls.
I’d fallen asleep where I sat in an armchair, waiting for news of Dauphine. My back was stiff. I sat up and stretched, rolling my neck. Looking over, I saw Madame had made her way from her armchair to the couch where she snored softly. After Madame had received word from Xavier that he had been reunited with Dauphine but that they were still dealing with the police, we had had a dinner of soup and bread at the kitchen table with Astrid and Jorge. Then we’d come in here to wait.
The sound of a heavy door opening reminded me that I’d been woken up by sounds. I hurriedly made my way to Madame’s side and shook her awake gently. “Madame. I think they are home.” As soon as she blinked up at me, I left her and hurried to the doorway into the entrance hall.
Evan was holding the door open and the tall figure of Xavier, his arms cradling a sleeping Dauphine, carefully negotiated through the opening.
I stifled a sob with my hand, instantly bursting into tears upon seeing her safe. Hurrying forward, eyes on her, I approached and gently touched her head, giving it a gentle kiss before stepping back.
Xavier’s face, tired and grim, gave me a single nod.
Before stepping away, I squeezed his arm where he held her, pouring every emotion I had into it since I couldn’t leap into his arms and hug him.
Then Madame was there, and a series of relieved and excited whispers in French and more tears caused the noise level to grow. Dauphine stirred, her forehead creasing.
Xavier shushed her and inclined his head for the stairs.
I bounded quietly ahead of him and headed for Dauphine’s room but realized my mistake when Xavier headed for his own bedroom and then laid his daughter down gently on one side of his bed. Silly me. I should have realized he’d rather not let her out of his sight. Especially not knowing what she might have been through and if she’d wake up in the night. He wouldn’t want her to feel alone.
Working quietly alongside him, I unbuckled her sandals, noting her bare feet were dusty and dirty. The dress she’d worn was soft enough to sleep in, but I doubted she’d want to wake up in it and be reminded of her ordeal. Madame must have had the same thought because she appeared behind us with a pale green nighty with little mermaids on it.
Dauphine’s hair was tangled, and I’d have to help her brush it out in the morning. I smoothed it back before kissing her forehead gently, tears of relief burning the back of my eyes.
“Was she hurt?” I whispered to him, terrified of the answer.
He paused and met my eyes. So much seemed to flash through his—pain, yearning, apologies, and things I couldn’t decipher that looked like someone who’d stared into the abyss of hell and made