by Byers, Beth
Then she recalled that she had once had violin lessons. Did she like those, she wondered? She was rather good, wasn’t she? She had been told so, but her mother hadn’t cared, and her father had given her idle compliments that had meant nothing.
Severine stared at a row of violins. What had happened to her? Had she ever known true joy? Did she lose herself in the music while she played? She couldn’t recall. She’d lost even the memory.
She slowly picked up a violin and ran her fingers along the neck.
“Do you play?” the man asked.
“I did once.”
His white teeth shone in the shadows of the shop, and she met his gaze. “Why not anymore?”
“I don’t know.”
“Did you like it?”
“I don’t know.”
His head tilted, and she traced her fingers over the F holes before she handed him back the violin. He didn’t take it. Instead, he handed her the bow. “Maybe you should try to find out.”
Hesitant, Severine accepted the bow. She moved it over the strings and a loud obnoxious squawk filled the air. She laughed at the sound and went to hand it back.
“The violin isn’t a pursuit you can pick up and put down like riding a bike, cher. What if, instead, you try again?”
There was no reason not to. Severine slowly ran the bow over the violin again, and it was barely better. She laughed again and the man said, “Sounds to me like you might need a tutor.”
“Or to let this go,” she said.
“You looked sad when you came in here, cher. You didn’t look sad when you were making that beauty screech.”
Severine glanced down at Anubis, who huffed at her. His eyes said nothing, and she glanced back at the man. “You’re very good at sales.”
He grinned with a low chuckle. “Perhaps.”
“Do you know of anyone who takes students like me?”
“Little one,” he said with his low, smooth voice, “course I do.”
Severine grinned at him. “Then I’ll need an instrument.” Her eyes widened as a memory returned. “I had a nearly black one once. It shone like a dark star. My father bought it for me.” Her surprise at the gift came back to her, as did the way she’d run her fingers down the silky black wood before touching the taut strings.
“I sold an instrument like that once,” the man said. “He bought it for his little girl.”
Severine stared, her expression dubious.
“He did,” he insisted. “Dark hair like you. Told me his little girl was a quiet little thing. He worried about her.”
“He told you about me?” Severine asked. “How do you know it was me?”
“I asked for more details when he told me what he was looking for and he showed me a photograph.”
Severine let the thought that her father had carried of photograph of her pass by. “I was little when my father bought my first violin.”
“Dark hair. Pale skin. And your eyes are the same. They stood out in that photograph, those same sad eyes.”
“Did you recognize me immediately?” she demanded.
He laughed and shook his head. “I’m not a genius. But one doesn’t forget Lukas DuNoir.”
Severine’s head tilted as she examined the man, her attention pulled from the violin. She looked him over, wondering if he was playing a trick on her.
“What happened to your violin?” he asked.
She shook her head.
“It get lost after that business with your parents?”
Severine’s mouth twisted and she was shocked to realize tears were forming in her eyes. There was something desperate in her. Something clawing in her chest. Something that was demanding that she cry, that she crumple, that she…grieve. She closed her eyes, biting her bottom lip.
“Everything got lost,” she told him, able to let out the truth to a man who she’d never met before simply because he’d once been around her father at a time when he’d been caring about her. That little snatch of time when Lukas had stopped being a villain and had simply been her father was enough to crumple her.
“Are you all right, cher?”
Severine shook her head. “Everything’s wrong.”
His eyes were so kind, she thought. Why hadn’t someone like him been her father?
“Do you know what he was?” Severine asked, needing the truth.
“Yes,” he told her simply, but the weight behind that told her more than she could handle.
“He was a monster?”
The man paused long enough to give the question serious thought and then slowly answered, “Sometimes.”
Severine nodded, wiping away a tear. “Can you find me a violin like the one my father bought me?”
“I sure can,” the man said with the kindest possible voice.
“Can you find me a teacher?”
“I can do that too.”
Before she could ask another question, Lisette stumbled through the door.
Chapter 7
Lisette’s lip was bleeding and Severine gasped. “What happened?”
“Landon.”
“Is that where you have been? Following him?” Severine gasped, face twisted with shock and horror. “That’s dangerous, Lisette! My goodness.” After a moment she added, “Your mama is going to wring your neck.”
“He broke into our home and hurt my mama.” Lisette’s tone was fierce and it was full of so much anger and fury and hurt that Severine understood entirely.
She grabbed Lisette’s hand. “We’re stronger together, my friend. I realized today that I’m adrift and alone.”
“You aren’t alone,” Lisette snapped, offended, “but we need to get going in case Landon decides to follow and finish the job.” Lisette’s hand moved from her face to her stomach to her face as if she’d been punched so many times, she wasn’t sure where to hold.
Severine glanced at the man behind her, worried. He seemed as distressed as her. “Landon Gentry?” the man asked. “The Face? You need to go.”
“Is there a way out back?” she asked.
“If he sees you, he’ll kill you both, cher. Go out the back, but I won’t cover for you. He’s a gangster and I’m not important. He’ll burn down my shop and kill my family.”
Severine nodded. “If you need help—”
“The door’s in the back,” he interrupted. “Please go.”
“We need to get out of here,” Lisette pressed, holding her side.
Severine nodded at Anubis and Lisette took his collar in her hand. The shopman jerked his head behind him and they darted through the doors. Boxes and a work bench with damaged instruments cluttered the small space, and the two of them slipped past.
“You’re bleeding.” It was stupid to say; Severine knew it when she said it.
“I’m fine,” Lisette snapped. She chased it with an immediately apology. “I’m sorry…Sev…I’m so sorry. I should have told you what I was doing.”
“What were you doing?” Severine asked as they peeked out the back door and into the alley.
“I…I don’t know. I was thinking I could find who he worked for. He’s a bad man, Sev. How could I have loved him? I feel disgusted with myself. Like I need to scrub out my skin.”
Severine tugged Lisette after her. “You can tell me all about being completely dim when your one-time beau is not chasing us down. That’s what he’s doing, yes?”
Lisette laughed darkly. “I have no idea. Am I worth chasing?”
Severine snorted. “Of course you are.”
They ran down the alley and back to her auto, jumping in without giving Anubis time to do more than scramble into the seat with Lisette. Severine started the car, looking for a man to jump from the shadows and towards them, but one never did and they escaped into traffic.
“How was your day?” Lisette asked with a laugh, dabbing the corner of her mouth where she was still bleeding.
“Why didn’t he kill you?” Severine asked.
Lisette started to reply, paused,
and then admitted, “I have no idea.”
“Don’t you?” Severine asked. “No idea at all?”
“He was following someone,” Lisette muttered. “He probably couldn’t murder me and not lose them.”
“Who?” Severine demanded. “Who did he follow?”
“Some man in a hat.”
Severine couldn’t help but laugh. “A hat? Is this what we’ve come to? A man in a hat, bruises, and wounds.”
“It was a nice, big hat. I couldn’t see his face.”
“Expensive?” Severine asked. “A rich man? Another like my father?” She rubbed her brow as she drove, holding the wheel with one hand.
Lisette glanced at Severine and her mouth twisted with humor. “I have no idea.”
Severine’s hands were shaking now that they were in relative safety. She took a breath in and then slowly let it out, anxiety rising quickly. She muttered low and uselessly. Nothing she had to say would be worthwhile. It was all remonstrances against the universe.
“Are you all right?” Lisette asked. She was twisted towards the door to give Anubis what room she could. It looked painful, and Severine pulled the car to the side of the road so they could adjust now that the panic had settled.
“I think that’s my line,” Severine replied. “Do you need a doctor?”
The pause was long enough that Severine assumed Lisette did.
“Do you want to visit his office or have him come to the house?” Severine reached back to Anubis, feeling better with the warmth of his fur under her skin.
Again, Lisette didn’t answer, but she groaned lightly.
Severine considered what she would want and headed for the house. As she was helping Lisette into the house, Mr. Brand came from across the street, darting at them. He took Lisette up into his arms and carried her into the house.
“What happened?”
Neither of them answered and Mr. Brand cursed low.
“We’ll explain later,” Severine promised as Fabien opened the door. “Put the auto away, please.”
She called for the doctor, already knowing how to reach the man. She frowned and then returned to the parlor where Mr. Brand had laid down Lisette. Her friend shuddered, her feet were propped up, and Edmée had handed her a towel wrapped around a chunk of ice for her face. The look on Edmée’s face was unimpressed, while Chantae had paled and was sitting carefully as though her own wounds had returned.
“What happened?” Chantae demanded once she seemed to have caught her breath.
“I ran into Landon and then he…” Lisette began.
“Ran into you over and over again?” Chantae’s voice was filled with a fiery anger. Her fists were clenched, and Severine noticed that Lisette’s were as well.
Fabien was standing in the corner of the room, and the girls who’d been hired to help with the house were standing there as well. All of their gazes were fixed on Lisette who said, “Mama—”
Chantae’s gaze narrowed on her daughter, reading into that solitary word. “Don’t tell me your lies, Lisette.”
“Mama—” Now there was a bit of a plea in her voice.
Chantae shook her head and faced Severine. “How did you find her?”
“We ran into each other while I was out with Florette.”
“And did Florette see this mess?”
Severine shook her head. “She ambushed me with her mother and brother when we went to lunch. I ended up leaving early.”
Severine met Lisette’s gaze and Severine silently asked what Lisette wanted her to say. Her friend pleaded with her eyes, and Severine rose. “I’ll get coffee.”
“I’ll do that, miss,” one of the girls said and Severine added, “Would you please bring something to eat as well?”
The girl nodded and hurried out. The rest of them waited in a fraught silence for the doctor, who arrived with an expression that judged them and found them wanting.
“What happened?” he asked.
No one answered, and he nodded in a way that said he was imagining the worst. He shoved his glasses up on his head and took Lisette’s pulse and then he asked everyone to leave. The gents left immediately, but Severine and Chantae both stayed.
“Go,” Lisette said to Chantae, who shook her head.
“I must insist,” Dr. Kimball said. “We’ll get her looked over, get her something for the pain, and get her tucked into bed.”
Severine took Chantae’s arm, gently, and tugged her from the room just as the maid appeared with the coffee tray. Severine rerouted the girl to the library and curled into a chair with Chantae across from her.
“How did it happen?” Lisette’s mother asked.
“I wasn’t there. I saw her across the street and she was fine. I went into a store, and she appeared soon after.”
“You didn’t talk about it in the car?”
Severine met Chantae’s eyes. “I need you to talk to Lisette directly.”
Chantae frowned deeply, but what she said was, “You’re a good friend, Severine.”
Sev snorted at that and dropped her head into her hands. Once again, the stress of the moment was making her head ache. I’m young, Sev thought. Too young to have this kind of pain.
“Did you eat at all?”
Severine shook her head and Chantae muttered, “You girls are as helpless as lambs.”
Severine laughed at that and tipped her head to rest on the chair’s padded wing. As she did, Anubis placed his massive, black head on her lap. Severine sniffed and felt Chantae’s soft touch.
“It’ll be all right, little lamb.”
Severine lifted her head and asked, “How do you know?”
Chantae sighed, struggling for words. Eventually she said, “Young ones, like you, sometimes imagine that those of us who are a bit older don’t understand what you feel. But we do.”
Severine paused, her gaze moving over Chantae’s face. How could she understand? How could she know?
Chantae laughed softly. “Life has good days and bad days, Severine. We’re in the midst of some bad ones. The days are heavy, and sometimes it’s hard to see the light.”
That was true, Severine thought.
“Once you struggle through those days, when you get to the other side, it’s easier for a while. You’re stronger. You’ve found a bit of a balance and life carries on.”
“And then?” Severine asked, feeling almost desperate.
“And then it happens again. Life is a cycle of good times and bad. Don’t despair, little lamb. Hold on, press forward; there’s light ahead.”
Severine would have given a lot to see that light. Even if she could just know how long it would take. If she could pin her hopes on a future date, even if that date were distant, she thought she’d be able to carry on. Without knowing? With only believing it would get better? She didn’t know if she could do it.
“I feel lost,” Severine said almost against her will. “I feel like I’m a ship without an anchor. Alone and—”
“But you aren’t alone,” Chantae told her. “You feel alone because your family is worthless, and that’s a bad thing. I won’t pretend otherwise, but you aren’t alone.”
Severine sniffed and then reached out, taking Chantae’s hand. “Lisette will be all right.”
Chantae nodded. “She’s got a backbone of steel, my girl does. She’s probably already planning her next step.”
“Florette says she’s in love with Andre.”
Chantae rolled her eyes. “Now there’s a girl with no backbone at all.”
“She doesn’t want to go home, and her father is insisting, so —”
“So she’s going to jump blindly and stupidly. Someone needs to shake some sense into her.”
“But how would I do that?”
“I don’t know, little lamb. She’s not even a lamb, your Florette. She’s a mouse.”
Severine took up the cup of coffee and looked down at her plate, suddenly ravenous. She took a sip of the coffee and then admitted, “I thought she might be
the only family member I would be able to keep.”
“There are a lot of families, Severine. There’s the family you’re born to, and we can’t help what we get there. Some are good, some are bad, some are in-between. There’s the family you make yourself. The ones that you make along the way, like your nuns. Or, the ones that take you in.”
Severine nodded, sniffing deeply. “I—”
“You can tell yourself you’re adrift, but you aren’t. Mr. Brand adores you. Mr. Thorne and Mr. Oliver would have left any other group for their own pursuit, but they’ve become part of us and they’ll be back. Lisette sees you as the sister she should have had, and I always wanted a second daughter.”
Severine’s eyes filled with tears. There was a knock on the library door, but before either of them answered it, Severine took Chantae’s hands in hers and confessed, “I always wanted a mother.”
Chapter 8
“Sev,” Charles Brand said as he came into the room, “as the doctor was leaving, two of your nuns showed up along with the P.I.”
Severine leapt to her feet and ran to the front of the house, scarcely daring to hope it was true. Names were running through her head as she wondered which of the sisters had left the nunnery. She stumbled to a halt as she saw Sister Bernadette and Sister Sophie. There was a heart-crushing moment as she realized that Sister Mary Chastity hadn’t come, but it didn’t matter. Tears reappeared in Severine’s eyes as she threw herself at the nuns, nearly losing the strength to stand.
“I—” But she couldn’t speak. She curled into Sister’s Sophie’s arms and wept like a baby while Sister Bernadette patted her once on the back and then waited impatiently for Severine to pull herself together.
Finally, after a long tirade of tears, Severine asked, “What? How?”
“I left the sisterhood,” Sister Bernadette said simply. “Never wanted to be a nun anyway.”
Severine’s mouth dropped open.
“I thought you might take me in,” Bernadette said, “given I’m homeless and you’re as rich as sin.”
“Of course,” Severine said, “Of course. I—everything has been so awful.”
“I know,” Bernadette said, patting the top of Severine’s head as though she were a dog. “Mary Chastity suggested I follow my true vocation and look after you as well.”
