Love's Vengeance by Dana Roquet Read Free Book Online Page B

what I could from the carriage and we discovered something very distressing. Could you come for a moment?”
    “Of course.” Francois nodded, the driver’s serious tone and concerned expression telling of the urgency. Together the two walked the short distance around the side of the manor and across the back lawn, toward the carriage house.
    “You see there—and there?” Georges’ questioned, pointing with a greasy finger at the underside of the over-turned carriage. It lay like a dead and bloated beast, broken wheels at odd angles from the force of the fall down the embankment.
    “File marks?” Francois asked, looking to the two beside him.
    Philippe nodded solemnly, “And look here…” he walked around to the front axle still intact, “Here also—almost in two it is but being filed from the bottom, near the floor of the carriage, it is undetectable, unless as it is here, turned on its top. It’s no wonder we were unable to detect anything amiss at the time of the accident.” He wiped his hands on his soiled breeches, looking into the eyes of his employer.
    “Someone meant for them to meet with an accident!” Georges’ stated, slamming his fist down upon the carriage in rage.
    “ Mon Dieu ! Who could have done such a thing and for what purpose?” Francois demanded angrily. The two servants shook their heads, totally perplexed by their findings.
     
    ***
     
    “You may return to the Roche’s.” Desiree stated with a weak smile directed at the young driver. He placed her bag upon the ground before her, nodded politely and mounted his perch. She watched the carriage lurch forward and out the crescent shaped drive at the front of the Château, lumbering toward the road, then with a quivering draw of breath, she picked up her satchel and turned to face her home. The flood of emotions that assailed her was staggering.
    It had been just days ago she had shared a pleasant morning with her parents. Just days ago she had kissed them, touched them, spoke with them and she felt guilty now. Guilty that she had not told them she loved them that last morning. She wished she had spent more time with her father in recent years. Wished she had listened more intently when her mother spoke to her of everyday happenings. She wished she had accepted the invitation and joined her mother in the parlor just four days ago when she had come in from an evening stroll with Honore' instead of retiring for the night. She wished she could turn back the hands of time and not have spent eleven of the last twelve months of their lives in Paris, spending that time here instead. She wished—Enough!, she chided herself mentally—no more looking back, it will do no good to look back with regret now! She lowered her eyes from the upper floor of the Château, until they rested upon Bridgett who waited patiently to be joined on the front veranda. Slowly Desiree plodded up the steps but before she could even reach out to grasp the handle, the door was swung wide and Mary had her in a warm embrace.
    “Desiree, I am so happy to see you sweet! Let me look…” she released her hold and looked at Desiree from arms length, studying her face carefully, “You look fine, much improved from yesterday. I think you shall be fine now, eh? Don’t you agree Bridgett?” Mary asked as she relieved Desiree of her bag.
    “Yes indeed.” Bridgett nodded, with a reassuring signal to the elderly housekeeper that the worst seemed to have passed.
    “Oh thank you Mary. I must admit it is so very painful to go on, but I am trying. I can’t seem to stop the tears, but I’m sure Papa and Mama would want me to overcome, don't you think?” Desiree questioned, with tears slipping down her cheeks, against her will.
    “Of course my sweet, but don’t you worry about it.” Mary crooned, dabbing at Desiree’s tears with the hem of her apron, “You are doing just fine. We can’t help the tears now and again, can we? Those tears will help us all to heal and move