After dinner and a quiet evening sitting in the smaller parlor, drinking tea and reading aloud, the family rose to retire. Tom began to wheel Etienne out of the room. Katie bent down to rouse Brioche.
“It was a pleasure to have you with us this evening,” Hester told Etienne, giving him her hand.
“The pleasure—and gratitude—are all mine,” he replied quietly, his face serious.
Gerrit also gave him his hand. “We hope you can join us each evening—and day. Please feel at home.”
“Thank you.”
Katie could see the praise made Etienne uncomfortable. She approached him. “Good night, Monsieur Santerre. Please let us know if there is anything you need. If you will excuse me, I shall let Brioche out now for his last walk before I retire.”
Etienne’s eyebrows drew together in a frown. “You let him out so late?”
“It’s not too, too late, not quite ten o’clock.”
“You don’t go out yourself, do you?”
“No, although I think it would be lovely to walk the streets of Paris at night. But one of the servant boys usually takes him around the block.”
He seemed reassured. “Very well. Have a pleasant evening then.” Feeling Brioche’s nose against his hand, he petted him. “Good night, or should I say, have a pleasant walk. No running after the girls!”
The others laughed as Gerrit held the door open for Tom to wheel Etienne out. When Katie turned to bid good night to her sister and brother-in-law, Hester smiled at her. “That went very well, I think. What an enormous improvement Monsieur Santerre has made since his fever broke!”
Gerrit chuckled. “Just a few days of chef Paul’s cooking has done wonders.”
Hester directed her next words to Katie. “Monsieur Santerre seems quite a nice gentleman.”
Katie smiled, relieved that she thought so. “Yes, isn’t he?”
Gerrit nodded. “Even though he is quite reticent about anything concerning himself.” The twinkle in his eye lightened the hint of criticism.
Katie, however, still felt a need to defend her guest. “I don’t think he’s done anything to be ashamed of—”
“I wasn’t implying that,” Gerrit replied gently. “Trust me, as someone who knows what it is to be ashamed of one’s past, I would be the first to be in sympathy with Santerre, if that were the case. But it does seem odd that he does not want to talk about his past in even the most general terms.”
Katie conceded with a slow nod. “A few times, I thought he would say something. He did tell me the other day about...about how he was wounded.”
Gerrit raised his eyebrows. “He did?”
She nodded.
“That is something indeed. A soldier will frequently not wish to discuss the...less pleasant realities of the battlefield. And in his case, the outcome was tragic, if you’ll permit me to voice an opinion.” He gave her a quizzical look. “He must trust you indeed to have been able to talk about it.”
She swallowed, not unconscious of how closely Hester and Gerrit were watching her. “I’ve told him he could—that I would not repeat anything he tells me in confidence.”
“Of course you wouldn’t, my dear,” her sister said immediately. “We don’t expect you to tell us anything he has divulged to you. I only hope you tell him that he can trust us as well, if there is anything—that is, if he is in trouble in any way.”
Katie eyed the two in dismay, its never having occurred to her that Monsieur Santerre might be in trouble. “I shall, of course. I know he is very grateful for how the two of you have taken him in and accepted him.” She made a motion with her hand. “This evening—to treat him as a member of the family or an intimate friend—I know how much that must have meant to him.”
Gerrit nodded thoughtfully. “We shall continue to do so, of course, and hopefully, he can begin to feel more at ease. He handled himself very well, by the way, at a formal dinner with a variety of covers. Tom hardly had to assist him at all.”
Katie smiled, almost as if she had been complimented herself. “Yes, I’m always amazed at how quickly he learns to orient himself.”
Hester picked up the book they’d been reading aloud along with her Bible, which they had also read from before retiring. “What a terrible thing war is, to have killed so many and left others so terribly...incapacitated.” She shook her head, approaching the door. “And with no family to turn to.” At the door, she paused, her hazel eyes surveying Katie. “Be careful, dear, not to...to let your heart become too involved.”
Katie stood mute. It couldn’t be so apparent, could it, how she felt about Etienne? “I’m...not sure what you mean,” she managed at last.
Gerrit took a step toward his wife. “I think what she means, dear sister,” he said with a smile that crinkled the corners of his eyes and gave her the feeling that he knew exactly what she was going through, “is that you not forget that in a few weeks, perhaps a month or more, you’ll be returning home...and Maine is a long distance from Paris, eh?”
Katie chewed her lip, her gaze going from her sister to Gerrit. “I know,” she whispered.
They said nothing more to her, but she felt their gaze on her as she tugged on Brioche’s leash and walked all the way down the corridor to the stairs leading to the kitchen below.
After leaving Brioche with a young male servant, she went upstairs to her bedroom. Passing by Etienne’s door, she heard his and Tom’s muffled tones coming through the panel. How she would have loved to say more about his managing so well this evening, but she knew he’d probably be uncomfortable with the compliments. But her heart sang, happy with this debut of Etienne’s with her family. They would grow to care about him as much as she did—well, perhaps not as much as she did—and see him as a whole, sound person, and not a terrible oddity!
Thankfully, Marie-Thérèse had done as Katie had bidden her and Katie had her room to herself. After she’d prepared for bed, she lay against her pillows with her Bible and prepared to read something before extinguishing her candle.
Therefore if any man be in Christ, he is a new creature: old things are passed away; behold, all things are become new. She smiled, reading the verse in Second Corinthians before closing the Bible. Perhaps tomorrow, she’d be bold enough to share this Scripture with Etienne.
She lifted her head at the sound of a soft knock on her door. It must be the servant returning with Brioche. Strange that she didn’t hear the dog scratching on the panels. “Yes, come in.”
The young man—still a youth—looked frightened.
“What is it, Alphonse?” She peered behind him into the shadows. “Where’s Brioche?”
“Mademoiselle, I’m sorry—” he said in rapid French, “the dog dashed off, I looked everywhere and called to him...that’s why I’m so late.”
“Wait, plus lentement, more slowly,” she kept saying, already scrambling out of bed and reaching for her dressing gown.
“Brioche, the dog, parti, gone—” he slapped one palm against the other—“like that, gone!”
Oh, Brioche, what were you thinking, you naughty dog! She searched for her slippers. “You must always hold his leash tightly for he likes to dash off at the least thing,” she endeavored to say in French in a combination of words and gestures. “Now, tell me, where exactly did he leave you?”
When she could make no more of his words, she motioned him to follow her. “Come with me to Monsieur Hawkes. He’ll know what to do.”
Hoping Gerrit and Hester hadn’t retired yet, she knocked softly on their door.
“Just a moment,” she heard Gerrit’s voice, and then, thankfully, he opened the door, still dressed. Seeing Katie standing there with the servant, he quickly came out and shut the door behind him. “What is it, Katie?” His question encompassed them both.
“Brioche has run away.” She turned to the boy. “You explain to him.”
She listened to the fast exchange of French between the two, able to make out that Brioche had left at a nearby square.
Gerrit turned to her. “Alphonse is going to show me where it was. I’ll see what I can do.”
“Thank you, Gerrit!”
“I’m sure he’ll show up here eventually.”
“I’m sure you’re right.”
When they’d left, Katie returned to her room and began to pace and pray. “Dear Father, please protect Brioche. You know how impetuous he can be. Keep him safe and bring him back home safely. Please, dear Lord.”
She kept praying until Gerrit knocked on her door. She jumped to answer it. Her hopeful look turned to a question when there was no Brioche at his side.
Gerrit shook his head, stifling a yawn. “He was nowhere in the vicinity. We separated and walked several streets in the area, calling out, but he didn’t respond.” He reached out and squeezed her shoulder. “Don’t worry, we’ll look again in the morning. I’m sure he’ll turn up.”
She nodded, swallowing with difficulty. “Thank you for going out,” she whispered.
“Think nothing of it.”
* * *
After he’d finished his breakfast in bed and Tom had helped him wash and shave, dressing him again in clothing of Gerrit’s, Etienne asked if he could be wheeled downstairs again.
“Certainly, sir. I would’a suggested it meself in a moment. It’s a bit overcast out there,” his voice came as if from the window, “but I think it’ll clear later, so if you’d like I’ll set you in the sitting room and later you can sit a bit outside, ’ow’s that?”
“Yes, that would be fine.”
Etienne hadn’t been sitting long in the sitting room, tying a length of rope into the knots that Tom had been teaching him, when he heard the door open and soft footsteps walk toward him.
“Good morning, how are you this day?”
He smiled at the sound of Katie’s voice. “Very well, and you?”
“All right.”
He was immediately attentive to the sedate response, which was less than her usual cheerful tone. “What is it?” he asked, his smile fading.
“Nothing, I hope.”
“Tell me.”
She moved a chair beside his. “It’s just...Brioche has run away.”
“Is that why he has not been around to see me today?”
“Yes.”
“I’m sorry. When—how—?”
“Last night. Remember how I told you he was going for his final outing?”
He nodded.
“The servant knocked on my door and instead of bringing Brioche back, he came to tell me Brioche had broken free of his leash and run off.” She sighed deeply. “It’s not unusual. He loves to run off at the sound of anything. He probably saw a squirrel. I just wish I’d told Alphonse to hold his leash tighter.”
“I’m sure it was not your negligence. Brioche was a stray, wasn’t he?”
“Yes.”
“He is likely accustomed to going where he pleases.”
“I know. I should have been more careful.” She sighed. “I just don’t understand it. He’s been so good lately, learning to heed my commands and he certainly seems happy here. I went out this morning to look again with the servant. We called and called everywhere until some of the neighbors began looking out from their balconies telling us to keep quiet.”
He reached out a hand and found hers on her lap. “Don’t reproach yourself so. I’m sure he’ll return. With such a wonderful mistress, he’ll soon realize the mistake he made.”
“Gerrit says the same, that he will probably turn up soon.”
“I’m sure he’s right. Dogs can find their way back to their masters.”
“Yes, I know.”
“I wish there was a way I could help.”
“You are helping.”
He made a sound of incredulity.
“It means a lot to me that you care enough to listen. That you knew something was wrong even before I said anything.” She sighed. “I trust that the Lord is watching out for Brioche, so I am trying my best not to fret. I’m praying that the Lord restore Brioche to me and keep him safe while he’s away from home. I know it will all turn out fine.” Her tone regained its usual bounce as she spoke.
Etienne didn’t realize he was shaking his head, thinking how like a child Katie’s prayer sounded, when she said, “Why are you shaking your head so? Don’t you believe me?”
He put his hand back in his lap. “Of course I believe you. I was just thinking you sounded the way I used to as a lad, asking God for rain the next day, in order that I might stay home, or—” he struggled for another comparison, but all he could remember was praying for God to remove his stepmother and stepbrother, a prayer that had not only not been answered, but instead had possibly caused his own removal from his ancestral home—“something cataclysmic to happen to avoid my catechism lessons with the local curé, who was a sour old man who delighted in rapping my knuckles.”
She chuckled with him. “I suppose my prayer is a bit childish, but I can’t help it. I couldn’t bear to think of Brioche out there all by himself if I didn’t know the Lord was watching over him. If the Bible says God does not forget the sparrows, I believe he remembers Brioche.”
Etienne could find no words to dispute that. “God would have to be very hard indeed not to be moved by your prayers.”
“Which is why I am praying for your healing.”
“And He has heard, as you can see from my recovery.”
“I mean your complete healing.”
Etienne cocked his head to one side. “What do you mean?”
“I mean that you will be able to see and walk again someday.”
He sat motionless, too stunned by her candid reply and hardly knowing whether to laugh or be angry. “I think you would even strain God’s abilities there, if not His patience.”
Her tinkling laugh startled him. “You might be right about His patience, since I, like the neighbor who knocked on his friend’s door at midnight for some loaves of bread, keep importuning the Lord on your behalf. But the Lord tells us that if we ask, it shall be given us, so I know He hears my prayers for you.”
Etienne began to work at the rope again with his fingers, hardly mindful of what he was doing. “I think you had better forget about this one prayer. I’m sure there are plenty of others the Lord will answer for you.”
“I know the Lord does not tire of hearing me present your name at his throne. He loves you.”
Before he could think of a sufficiently quelling rejoinder, she said, “I came by to ask if after luncheon you would like to take a stroll around the neighborhood. You never know, perhaps Brioche will see us.”
“Of course, that would be fine. I should like that very much.”
Katie read to him for about an hour and then excused herself for her French lesson with her tutor.
Etienne sat idle for a while, thinking about her words. He wished there was something he could do. If he had mobility he would scour the neighborhood for her dog. He wouldn’t give up until he had found the mutt.
What was he going to do here now that he was getting better? Katie would soon get tired of amusing him. He threw aside the length of rope and drummed his fingers on the chair arm.
And how long was he going to be able to bear having Katie so near and not reveal what he felt for her? If only...if only he were the man he used to be—
And yet, would that man even be enough? He remembered her words about what constituted true love between a man and a woman when they were discussing Molière’s play. I think it’s admirable that he does see the bad qualities and loves her despite them—but the good qualities he sees in her should far outweigh the bad.
How would he come out on the scales if Katie were to weigh his good qualities against his bad in the man he used to be?
He remembered his carefree, thoughtless ways during his army days—which composed most of his adult life. Women were a means to an end.
He was not worthy of Katie’s love or of her regard, even if he were a man hale and hearty.
What was to become of him? The thought of returning to Les Invalides left him with a feeling of absolute desolation. Why didn’t he die? Why didn’t he just die?
Of what use was he?
I mean that you will be able to see and walk again someday.
Katie’s guileless words came back to him.
He tried to shut them out. He didn’t want to think about them. It was like a Pandora’s box. He had to forget them. He must!
He put his hands to his ears as if that would shut out the words.
He jerked around at the sound of the door opening behind him. “Who’s there?” he rapped out.
“Good morning,” Major Hawkes said mildly. “Did I startle you? I beg your pardon.”
“Er—no, of course not. Please come in. I...I’m just sitting here...doing nothing,” he said with a short laugh.
“I’m glad to see you so well.” Hawkes’ voice drew closer as he approached Etienne’s chair. “We enjoyed your company last evening, and hope you will partake in more and more of our family meals and activities.”
Etienne clasped his hands together, feeling self-conscious under the gentleman’s obvious scrutiny. “Thank you.”
“May I have a seat?”
Etienne frowned. His host was asking his leave to sit down? “Of course. Please.”
When he had settled down, Hawkes continued. “You made a remark just now about not doing anything.”
Etienne shrugged as if to say, what could be expected of him?
“I would like to suggest one thing, at any rate.”
His attention caught, he nodded. “Go on.”
“Do you get along with Tom?”
Etienne blinked. “Yes, of course. Is something the matter?”
“No, not at all. Tom says you are the model patient, never complaining, always obliging.”
Again, Etienne shrugged. “I would be an ungrateful fellow indeed if I did not do as he requested.”
“Good. I mean, I’m glad you two get along. Tom thinks you are a capital fellow.” He cleared his throat. “What I wanted to say was that Tom has a lot of experience with wounded fellows. He was also a trainer for a while with a pugilist back in London. He thought he could help you build your upper body strength with some simple exercises. He can get you some dumbbells and perhaps hook up some pulleys fixed up with weights you can use from your bed.”
Etienne nodded, his interest piqued. “Yes, I should find that a good way to exercise. I used to exercise with dumbbells when I was younger.”
Hawkes slapped his hands against his knees. “Good, that’s settled then. I’ll have Tom get on it right away.”
Etienne thought Hawkes would rise and excuse himself then, but he heard nothing to indicate such. He waited, wondering if there was anything else Hawkes wanted to talk to him about.
“Katie is a fine young lady, is she not?”
Etienne swallowed, feeling his throat go dry. “Ye...es, she is.”
“We—her family, that is—are very protective of her.”
“I can understand that.” What was the man getting to? Etienne clenched his fingers around the ends of his chair arms, fearing he suspected.
“She’s the kind of person who wouldn’t kill a spider.” Hawkes chuckled. “She pleads for the farm animals at slaughter time. She takes in every sort of stray—Brioche is only the last in a long line. Heaven only knows how he is going to manage the journey back to America.”
The mention of their return dispelled any pleasure Etienne had in the thought of exercising. “Yes...I—ahem—imagine it’s an arduous journey.”
“Yes, very. Thankfully, both Hester and Katie proved quite good sailors. I want to arrange things before Mme. Hawkes is too...too far along, you understand.”
“Yes, yes, of course...” With each word, his spirits plummeted. Was Hawkes gently hinting to him that he’d better take his sights off Katie, if indeed he had any intentions in that direction? Were his feelings for her so apparent?
“And, of course, before winter sets in. But we’ve plenty of time before then. Summer’s hardly begun.”
“Yes.” Etienne fingered his cravat, which felt too tight around his neck.
“We should take some outings while the weather is so mild and before the truly hot weather begins.”
“Yes.”
“You are invited, naturally.”
“Thank...you, but please, don’t feel obligated—”
Gerrit chuckled. “Leave you behind—and face Katie? I think not. I don’t mean to make you think we’d feel obliged to do it only for Katie’s sake. We would enjoy your company.”
Etienne said nothing, fearing anything he said would only betray his feelings. His fingers knotted together.
“You are a gentleman’s son, are you not?”
The question startled Etienne and he answered without thinking, “Yes, of course.”
“I thought as much. You are not very forthcoming about your situation.”
Etienne was at a loss how to answer. He couldn’t ignore the man’s probing—nor deny him his right to know whom he was housing under his roof, especially when he was concerned with his sister-in-law’s feelings. “If—if I haven’t been ‘forthcoming’ as you say, it is only...only because I have no choice.”
Hawkes shifted in his seat. “You can trust me. I know what it’s like...to carry around a load.”
Etienne rubbed his hand across his lower face. It would feel good to unburden himself to someone. But what good would it do? It would serve no purpose. His life was over; he had to accept that. Had accepted it, until Katie. “I...the truth is that I have nothing left, so it doesn’t matter what the rest of the story is.”
“I see,” Hawkes answered slowly. “Are you certain about that?”
He weighed the alternatives and decided against getting his hopes up anymore. He gave a definitive nod of his head. “Yes.”
Hawkes rubbed his hands along his legs as if debating. “We, my wife and I, have accepted you into our home because of Katie. We trust her instincts. Hester has tried to gently warn her not to...become too attached in her regard for you. Both of us realize that is something that is difficult to control, especially when two—uh—persons are in daily contact with one another—”
Etienne held up a hand, cutting him off. “You need say no more, Monsieur Hawkes. I have no intention of hurting Mlle. Leighton. I—whatever my sentiments are—don’t matter. I—I would never make my feelings known to her, I give you my word.”
He heard Hawkes rise from his chair. Then his hand clamped down on Etienne’s shoulder, startling him anew. “I thank you for your promise. If there were any hope—you know...for...”
“Yes—yes, quite.” Before Hawkes left him, Etienne resolved to say something he’d made up his mind to during this difficult conversation. “I..I’d like to ask you for something, if I may.”
Hawkes removed his hold. “Yes, of course, anything.”
“I wish to return to Les Invalides.” He swallowed, forcing himself to continue, knowing once he had Hawkes’ promise, there would be no turning back. “Perhaps in a couple of days or so. It won’t appear so abrupt to Mlle. Leighton that way, if you agree.”
Hawkes seemed to consider. Etienne waited, his hands clenched together. Finally, Katie’s brother-in-law said, “It is not my intention to hurry your convalescence in any way...but perhaps you are right to return to Les Invalides. Tom can visit you there and continue any rehabilitation you need. I understand your old valet has run off. Perhaps I can be on the lookout for someone new to replace him.”
Etienne was hardly listening. After he returned to Les Invalides it didn’t much matter what became of him. “Yes...yes, that is fine.”
“All right,” Gerrit said slowly, as if trying to convince himself that his mission had been accomplished. “Before you go, we’ll be sure to arrange some outings. And Katie can continue to visit you at Les Invalides as before...”
Etienne didn’t bother to agree or disagree. When that time came, he could always discontinue his trips to l’Esplanade. “Could...could you do one last thing for me?” He could hardly get the words out.
“Of course, what is it?”
“I’d like to...to have a little time...alone...with Ka—Mlle. Leighton, that is.” In case Hawkes would misunderstand him, he quickly went on, “Not to declare myself or anything remotely like that. I gave you my word. It’s only...I would merely like to say goodbye, in a fashion, to her...and thank her for her hospitality and her generosity during my stay here.”
“Yes, I understand. I’ll arrange something, never fear.” He sighed. “Well, I shall leave you for the moment then. Tom may come by in a bit.” Etienne could already hear him stepping back as he spoke. “Thank you.”
Etienne only nodded, turning his head away, wanting only to be left alone.
When he knew he was alone, he finally allowed his features to relax and his body to slump forward.
All joy, all pleasure he had experienced since meeting Katie, since coming to live in her house, evaporated, leaving him no hope. The future held nothing but a yawning void.
He could take his life.
The thought took hold.
For how could he continue as he was?
It was the only solution.
Returning to Les Invalides was unbearable now...and to remain here untenable. And the future? Life without Katie was no life...
He was caught between two impossible choices. He curled his hands into fists.
But how to kill himself? He gave a strangled laugh. He couldn’t even manage that. It was not as if he could ask someone for a gun or wheel himself off a bridge, when he couldn’t even see it! Or obtain a knife sharp enough to pierce his veins.
If only the influenza had done away with him!
His only regret would be his apparent ingratitude for all Katie’s efforts—and those of everyone—to keep him alive during the fever—all wasted. But even she must understand that he couldn’t go on like this.
It was the only way. He would figure out a way to accomplish it!