“—Emily Dickinson, “This Quiet Dust” Frances watched the tenebrous passageway, waiting for Lucien de Talle to leave Colin’s chamber. Her own room was dark and growing cold, as the hearth had been allowed to die down to embers. She had known it would be a sacrifice sitting in the dark without a fire and had prepared herself by dragging a stool to the door and supplying herself with a blanket. But the night was proving to be both longer and colder than she had anticipated. Finally there was a crac...k in the blackness, and the silhouette of the Frenchman could be plainly seen in the doorway. Frances leaned forward impatiently, stilling her breath lest he somehow hear her as he stood alone in the echoing passage, as though listening for something. She willed him to be gone with thoughts fierce enough to bludgeon, yet Lucien turned back after a single step and said something in parting that gave her pause, even through her single-minded desire to see Colin again. “You’ll remove her as soon as you may, oui?MoreLessRead More Read Less
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