Afterthought, M J Marlow [bts books to read .TXT] 📗

we suspect her.” He accompanied her to the conservatory and looked at the painting. “If that is how you see her, Princess; we have reason to suspect her of something.” Evangeline looked at the portrait and decided she really did not want to work on it further. Looking at it made her head hurt. There was something about that woman that raised bad memories she did not want to remember. She was still upset with herself for breaking down last night after the attack. She’d been so weak! Her father had seen her fear and must surely be disgusted with her over it. He had not spoken to her about it once since they had come back home. “Emilio,” Evangeline asked as another thought crossed her mind. “I don’t know much about you. Is there a Mrs. Emilio?” “There was,” Emilio told her, wondering why it was so easy to open up around this pretty child. “My wife and youngest daughter died a long time ago in a car accident during a storm.” He saw the tears in her eyes. She actually cared very deeply about people he noted. It did his heart good to think there was someone who cared for him that way. “Ysabel would have been about your age if she had survived.” He shook his head as if he were coming out from under a spell. “I don’t know why I told you that. I never talk about my family.” He left after one more glance at the portrait. He went to find Stefano. He found him in the study going over some reports. “Your child is a witch, my friend.” “What was that?” Stefano looked up from his reading, amused by his friend’s comment. He closed the file and set it aside. “A witch, you say?” “She sees into people’s hearts,” Emilio nodded. “And gets others to talk about things they have not thought about in years.” He looked sheepish. “I told her about my Yarena and Ysabel, Stefano.” His friend looked at him sharply and he nodded. “We were just standing there looking at the portrait she’d done of Otto’s wife and she asked about my family. I told her.” “My daughter should be a psychiatrist,” Stefano smiled briefly. He frowned. “You say Otto brought a wife with him for this lesson?” Emilio nodded and Stefano was on his feet. “I’d like to see what my daughter saw in this woman.” “You’re not going to like it,” Emilio said as he followed. “It made me very uneasy.” They entered the conservatory and Evangeline was lying on a padded bench sleeping. Stefano found her shawl and covered her with it before he turned to the portrait. He could see why it would make Emilio uneasy. Here, for all with eyes to see, was a woman who was hiding secrets and was amused at the thought of how she was pulling things over on people. This was not a woman who should be allowed near his child, Stefano decided. Her secrets could cause harm to Evangeline. “The princess already asked me to look into the woman’s background,” Emilio told him. “I’m putting Petrie in charge of that.” “Best choice for work like that,” Stefano nodded. He found his eyes drawn to a man in the background. “This woman made her remember him? This is not good at all, Emilio.” He turned the portrait to the wall and put his mind to the problem. “Tell Petrie he is to put shadows on this woman. I want to know where she goes; whom she talks to, and whom she calls. Don’t let Max know,” he decided. “I have a strange feeling she has him completely fooled,” he said as he saw Max on his knees at the woman’s feet holding a red rose out to her. He had a full head of black hair and was dressed in costume as well; that of the jester. He was looking at the woman with slavish adoration. “Evangeline is telling us that Max won’t believe us if we tell him his darling wife is a liar.” He turned as he heard Evangeline murmuring in her sleep. He recognized the signs of nightmare and he understood. The woman had unlocked the old memory again. He sat down next to her and stroked her hair, murmuring in Italian to her. Emilio left them alone until he heard her scream. He ran back to see her staring off into space as Stefano held her tight. “What is she seeing?” “Creatures her mother and nasty cousins used to torment her with,” Stefano said as he continued to stroke the girl’s back until she calmed. He helped her lie back down and covered her with the shawl again. “Shadow men, she calls them.” He was frowning as he thought of it. How could anyone be so deliberately cruel to a child? “Aileen would tell Evangeline that they would come for her if she fussed. Her cousins would lock her in closets and empty rooms and tell her that the shadow men would come take her away if she cried for help.” “Little bastards!” “I would have wrung Sebastian’s neck,” Stefano said stiffly, “if he had treated a lonely child that cruelly. And yet, my angel child forgave them every time because she knew they didn’t really mean it.” “Their harmless fun at her expense,” Emilio frowned darkly, “has left her wounded.” He was angrier than he had any right to be. “She will not like that we have seen her break down like this. Your child is very much like you in such matters.” “She will think I see her as weak and have lost respect for her,” Stefano frowned. “My angel,” he shook his head. “How could that get any further from my true feelings for you?” He looked at Emilio. “Has it only been a few weeks since I found her? I feel as if she has been with us always.” “As I said, my friend,” Emilio laughed; “your daughter is a witch.” Stefano laughed and called a maid. “Please bring the princess another cup of raspberry tea, Charlotte. She will feel the need for it when she wakes.” The maid bobbed a quick curtsy. He nodded to the canvas. “Have that portrait moved to the Study. The princess is not to see it again. If she asks, tell her to speak to me about it.” “Yes, my lord,” the woman nodded. She took the canvas and left the easel. Stefano was satisfied when she did not even look at the offensive thing. The more he had looked at it the more disturbed he had become. Stefano remained with his daughter as she slept on; the nightmare sent fleeing under his gentle care. How she could think anyone would judge her harshly over something she had no control of was beyond him. What kind of upbringing had she been given? Education in the arts was all well and good, but her emotional welfare had been overlooked. Lord Sterling had assumed that just because she would not complain the incidents had not harmed her. Nothing could be further from the truth as Stefano had now seen. He saw Evangeline’s eyes opening. “Did you have a nice nap, my angel?” “That portrait,” Evangeline frowned as she sat up. “Something about it was giving me a headache. She looked towards the easel. “It’s gone.” “And it stays gone,” Stefano replied. “You are not the only one who is disturbed by that portrait. We understood your message and the matter is being is looked into.” He helped her to her feet. “I think you need a special treat to take your mind off of it. What could we do to make you smile again?” “You’ve given me so much already, Father,” Evangeline smiled up at him. “Let me take you to lunch and then, perhaps, a walk?” He nodded and she kissed him on the cheek. She looked at her rumpled skirts. “Let me change into something a little less wrinkled first.” Stefano watched her dance away and he was content. She was happy in that moment and that was what mattered. He would give his fortune to keep that lovely smile on her beautiful face. She came downstairs as he finished putting his files away and he was again struck by how much she resembled her mother; except for the eyes, Evangeline was Aileen all over again. Only in looks, he reminded himself sternly. Evangeline had his strength in her; she was not going to fall apart and run screaming in terror because life got difficult or decide her need to see what lay elsewhere was more important than her children’s welfare. Eva had already proven she was capable of handling herself in a crisis. As much as he hated the thought of the conversation, it was time Evangeline knew the truth about her mother. She should have been told much sooner. “There is a restaurant in the Eiffel Tower, is there not?” Evangeline asked as she came down the stairs towards him. Her eyes were dancing with happiness. “It probably requires reservations, though.” Before Stefano could say a word, she shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. We will find something else.” She was trying too hard, Stefano realized. She was feeling ashamed of herself for the breakdown even now. He was determined to cure her of that; she had nothing to be ashamed of. His daughter was fine just the way she was, despite the bad memories and nightmares. They got in the convertible and Stefano took the wheel, leaving Emilio and Petrie to sit in back. They parked with the other tourists and the guards fell back to let Stefano and Evangeline enjoy some time nearly alone. They went up to the observation deck of the Tower and Emilio passed the word to the Maitre’d that Prince Roza and his daughter would be grateful if he could squeeze them in. He did better than that. Stefano and Evangeline were shown to the best table and she looked out over the city in true delight. Stefano left her with the guards and went to speak to the Maitre’d. “You have made my daughter very happy, sir,” he said to the delighted man. “If there is anything I can ever do to help you, please contact me.” “Your Highness is doing that now,” the man blushed, “by honoring our poor establishment with his presence. A table shall be kept open for members of your family any time you wish to dine here.” “The princess will most assuredly wish to take you up on your kind offer,” Stefano smiled. “When you have a moment, kindly come over so that she may thank you personally for your thoughtfulness.” The Maitre’d practically fainted in delight. Stefano returned to Evangeline and found her crouched down looking into the eyes of a small child. The little girl was blushing and smiling at being presented to a ‘real’ princess. The parents had a camera and his darling daughter was allowing them to photograph her with their child. But then she asked Petrie to take a picture of her and the entire family with the parents’ camera. That simple act was going to be a memory that child would cherish forever. Evangeline returned to her seat blushing after the child threw her arms around her neck and kissed her on the cheek. “I need to be doing something meaningful, Father,” Evangeline said once they had ordered their lunch. “There is an orphanage near our estate. I would like to visit it and find out how I can help them.” “I believe it is run by nuns, Your Highness,” Petrie said from where he stood nearby on guard. “They have fundraisers once each year that barely cover their yearly expenses. The next one is in two weeks.” “How do you know so much about them, Petrie?” Evangeline asked the man. She saw his expression. “You grew up