JENNA SMILED AS Philippe came into her laboratory. Every time she looked at him she thought how very lucky she was. She’d never expected to find a lover so suited to her. Handsome, ardent. Her equal in every way.
If only he would trust me more, she thought, then everything would be perfect.
But night after night he left her side. He would never say why he didn’t stay beside her. He would never talk over the worries that shadowed his eyes. They’d been growing day by day.
He looked somber now. “Gaston said you needed me.”
She went to him, sliding her hands up over his shoulders, letting her fingertips trail along the back of his neck. “I always need you.”
She’d hoped for a like rejoinder, and frowned as he pulled away. “What is it? Is something wrong?”
Taking her hands in his, Philippe took her over to the window, where the golden autumn light shone brightly. In the valley far below, the leaves were just falling, but there were bruised clouds rolling in from the north, hiding the highest peaks.
He looked down into her eyes. “Are you happy, Jenna?”
“Deliriously.”
His eyes raked her face, searching for signs of distress. There were none. He dropped her hands and turned to look out over the valley. It was so hard to know what was right and wrong, and where his loyalties lay. His love for her was overwhelming. If he lost her—No! The pain of it was unthinkable.
He took a deep breath.
“If I asked you to leave . . .”
“Philippe!” It was a cry of protest, ripped from the heart of her.
She reached out to him for assurance, but he shook his head. “I have to know, Jenna. If I asked you to leave, would you go?”
“No.” She didn’t hesitate.
“Then . . . what if I told you to leave?”
Jenna saw the fear he was trying to hide, and laughed softly. “I would ignore you. And then I would make mad, passionate love to you until you were too exhausted to speak.”
He laughed too, but the darkness was still there, eating at him. The longer she stayed, the closer she came to discovering everything he wanted to hide. With their growing intimacy it was inevitable.
His face became serious. “I think you should leave Beaumont Foret, Jenna. Today, before it’s too late. There will be snow by morning. If you don’t leave today, it will be many months before you have another chance to go.”
“You’re awfully anxious to be rid of me,” she said.
“No. But I would rather have you go now, with good feelings, than to stay and . . . and change.”
She stepped so close that his arms gathered her in from habit. “I love you, Philippe, and I intend to stay.”
He closed his eyes and kissed her with a fierce protectiveness. “I love you too, Jenna. I have from the very beginning. Never forget that—whatever happens.”
She cradled his cheek against her palm. “And never forget that the decision to stay was mine—whatever happens.”
Jenna moved away, her eyes gleaming. “Did Gaston say why I wanted you to come up here?”
“No.”
She lifted the protective cover off the table. Yesterday the pieces of glass had held sections of charred scroll, flattened by one of the chemicals in her kit, and still unreadable. Today, what were once vague coppery marks and unreadable squiggles on the dark brown parchment had been transformed to flowing black words against a pale ocher ground.
“Unbelievable!” he said. “You are a magician!”
She tipped up her head and smiled. “No. It’s just the magic of science.”
“My God!” He came over to examine them. “I can make out a word here and there.”
“But not enough. Don’t worry,” she said. “The fixative is unstable at first, and some of the chemicals have to evaporate. By tomorrow the words will be crystal clear.”
Philippe’s first excitement calmed a bit. The text wasn’t what he’d expected. “They look like extracts from works on herbs, or gardening—”
“Try this one.” She indicated her laptop, humming on the desk. “It was still faint, so I scanned it in and ran the enhancing software. The writing is very ornate and difficult to read, and the language is one I’ve never seen before.”
“Ah, but I have. It is a coded form of Old French and Latin, used by mages and alchemists.” Tension stretched his muscles taut. Had the moment finally come?
For the first time he faced the fears that had hovered like a specter, haunting all his hopes. Perhaps the burned documents held no answers to his prayers. Perhaps his father had told him so only to give him courage to go on with his life.
He scanned the first page of the scrolls that had been uploaded into the computer, frowning in concentration. The ornate writing, with all its loops and flourishes, was difficult enough to read, much less translate.
Jenna was impatient. “What does it say?”
“It is a sort of introduction to the ‘wonders and marvels’ contained within the document.” A slight smile curved his lips. “Along with a good deal of bragging by the author that he is the greatest alchemist of his time.”
Philippe scrolled down further, and his heart gave a leap of excitement. He read aloud:
In this work will be found stunning spells, enchantments, and philters for the use of those who have studied philosophy and medicine. First come the simple cures for ailments of the heart and uneasy breath, lung fever and other afflictions of man; then those that protect against the Red Death and the Black Death, scrofulous fevers and wasting disease, and those that hasten childbirth.
In the third part will be found such as can calm a madman, turn a simpleton into a paragon of wisdom, and other miracles of nature derived from alchemy. And lastly are those that only the most experienced of mages should attempt: the summoning of angels; the alterations of weather; the changing of man into beast, and back again.
He tried to move the cursor further down, but it wouldn’t budge. “It’s the end of the document,” he exclaimed. “Where is the rest of it?”
Jenna made a face. “I don’t know, but I certainly hope it’s in one of the jars, with the other scrolls.”
That evening, as he and Jenna and Claude played Concentration with two card decks in the salon, Philippe’s gaze was attracted by movement at the window. He looked up and saw it was snowing heavily.
He rubbed his neck and let the tension ease out of him. For good or ill, Mother Nature had taken the decision out of his hands.
“I have another match! And another.” Claude exclaimed, as he picked up another king of hearts and the nine of diamonds. His cheeks were rosy and his eyes almost overbright.
“You win. You’ve beaten us again,” Jenna said.
Philippe congratulated his son, and they played another game before his bedtime. He joined in the spirit of it, his mood buoyed by the knowledge that Jenna could not leave him now. Not until spring.
Pray God that she will uncover the cure before she uncovers my secret.
That night, for the first time, he stayed in bed with Jenna.
She’d fallen asleep in his arms after their heated lovemaking, her body tangled with his. When she awakened in the night, she was surprised to find him still there.
She stretched and got up, tiptoeing to the window. The valley was ermined with snow, and stars burned bright in a moonless sky.
Somewhere a wolf howled, its eerie cry borne to her on the wind. Jenna shivered and wrapped her arms around her shoulders.
Philippe murmured in his sleep and turned over.
After a while Jenna walked back to the bed and stood staring down at him. There were so many words unspoken between them. So many questions left unasked. She was afraid that she would ruin everything by wanting too much, too soon.
She slipped into the bed beside him and fell asleep with her head against his chest. When she awakened next it was dawn, and he was gone.