Page 74 of Love in a Mist
“I am going to pull the wagon around the back of that wall.”
She could see enough to know he motioned just off the side of the road, but she didn’t know what he was motioning at.
“There appear to be some trees around it,” he said. “No one passing by on the road will see us there.”
She trusted his judgment, which kept her calm despite her inability to see any details in such a vulnerable location.
Aldric guided the wagon off the road and pulled it to a stop. She could hear the trees rustling in a soft breeze and could make out enough of what was around them to know it matched the description he’d given. Fortunately, it hadn’t rained the last couple days. The ground was hard, and they were unlikely to become stuck in a quagmire.
“The wagon is old and well used, but one benefit is we won’t have to sleep on the ground.” Aldric lifted Adèle off their laps. The wagon shifted, no doubt from him climbing down.
Céleste glanced in that direction, but the sharp rays of light from the lantern hurt her eyes, and she had to look away again. When she was tired or her eyes were already strained, the impact of light in dark surroundings was intensified.
The wagon shifted again.
“Go back to sleep,ma petite douce,” Aldric said quietly.
He was tending to Adèle. Céleste would have struggled to manage it. Maybe it was for the best her niece had grown so quickly attached to him. He could be depended on.
“Céleste?”
She turned at the sound of his voice. He stood directly beside the wagon, next to her. Now turned away from the lantern, she could see him better. It lit him without blinding her.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I wish I were more help.”
His brow pulled. “Morehelp? You’ve been indispensable.”
She shook her head. “We might have reached another inn if I drove. We wouldn’t be stopped on the side of the road.”
“You’re tired, Céleste. We all are.”
“It isn’t that.” She emptied her lungs. “There is something wrong with my eyes, Aldric. My vision is so cloudy in dim light. And in the dark, every flicker of a candle or flame in a fireplace, even the moon and stars, become glaring bursts of light. I’m not entirely blinded by it, but very nearly.”
She watched him, waiting with bated breath for pity or dismissal or annoyance. Instead, she saw his mouth drop open in a small O and a look of understanding cross his face.
“You told me you aren’t afraid of the dark but that it makes you uncomfortable. I’d wondered what, precisely, you meant by that.”
Intrigue at a mystery being solved was an improvement over annoyance.
“And that would explain your concern at being alone in the dark and how often you bump into things in dim rooms.”
She didn’t hear any contempt in his recollection of her struggles. Why she’d even thought it a possibility, she couldn’t say. This was Aldric Benick, who had shown her such kindness and tenderness during their flight.
“Henri never mentioned this,” Aldric said.
“He doesn’t know. I haven’t told anyone before.”
Aldric set his hand on hers. “Why not?”
“Society is horribly uncharitable about things like this.”
“But you didn’t even tell your family.”
She shook her head. “What do you suppose my father and Jean-François would have done if I’d told them?”
He wove his fingers through hers. “And what do you supposeHenriwould have done if you’d told him?”
Years of loneliness surged in her, breaking her answer with emotion. “He left me behind, Aldric. He wasn’t here to tell. This was just one more thing I had to survive on my own.” She pressed her teeth together and swallowed several times in quick succession. It was a trick she’d learned as a little girl when emotions threatened to flow out. “I won’t cry, I promise. I don’t ever cry.”
