The Saint-Germain Chronicles Read Online Free PDF Page B

doubted that he had broken the law or was engaged in espionage. Eventually she wondered if he were doing vivisections, but never found a body, or any part of one, in the house, though she did once find the manservant with a large piece of raw meat. With every doubt that was quelled, another rose to take its place. She did not dare to approach him directly, for although he had never shown her anything but kindness, Sabrina reveals that she sensed a force or power in him that frightened her.”
    Twilford shook his head. “Women! Why
will
they endow us with godlike qualities?”
    Dominick stifled a yawn.
    “It was Sabrina’s daughter, Cesily, who first stumbled upon the Count’s secret, or one of his secrets,” Wbittenfield said, and took time to top off his port. He was enjoying the sudden silence that had fallen. Slowly he leaned back, smiling in delight with himself.
    “Charles…” Dominick warned.
    “The secret was one that Sabrina said she should have guessed. How it came about was…”
    “You’d try the patience of half the saints in the calendar, Whittenfleld,” Everard said, attempting an amused chuckle with a distinct lack of success.
    Whittenfleld refused to be rushed. “Cesily came running into her mother’s chamber one afternoon with a large glass beaker clutched in her small hands. She said she had come upon it in the hallway near the locked door, but upon close questioning, she admitted that she had found the door unlocked and had decided to explore. You may imagine how aghast Sabrina was to hear this, and she trembled to think how the Count would react to the news that the child had invaded his private rooms. She thought it best to be prepared for the worst, and determined to approach the Count before he came to her. She had a little money set aside, and if the worst came to pass, she was fairly confident that after she had paid for the damage, she would still have enough money left to afford passage to England, though she did not know what she would do once she got there.”
    “Just like a woman,” Everard said, attempting to look world-weary, though his young features did not easily lend themselves to that expression.
    “Whittenfield, have you had pipes put in, or must I seek the necessary house in the garden?” Lord Graveston asked unexpectedly.
    “You’ll find what you need by the pantry door, my Lord,” Dominick said, a malicious undertone to his good manners.
    “Thanks, puppy,” the old man said, getting out of his chair. “Should be back in a little time.” He walked stiff-legged to the door and closed it sharply behind him.
    “Well…” Whittenfield said, rather nonplussed by Lord Graveston’s departure, and uncertain now how to pick up the threads of his narrative, “as might be expected…”—he covered the awkward moment by pouring himself yet another glass of the excellent port—“it took her some time to convince herself that it was appropriate to interrupt the Count at his work. She did not want to go to that locked door and knock, for fear of his wrath. She also realized that she was not eager to be dismissed. The man was a generous master and had treated her far more kindly than she had thought he would. Yes. You can see her predicament. But if the broken beaker were not acknowledged, then it might go unpleasantly for her and her children. Sabrina was not a foolish woman…”
    “What woman is not foolish where her children are concerned?” Hamworthy inquired piously. He often remarked that heaven had seen fit to visit seven daughters on him, as others were visited with plague. It was tacitly acknowledged that one of his reasons for attending this gathering was to talk with Everard about a possible alliance with his fourth daughter, Isabel.
    “Be that as it may…” Whittenfield said more forcefully, glad that the general irritation with Hamworthy for once worked to his benefit. “Indeed, Sabrina feared for what would become of her and her children. There were