Paladin73

Gabe passed Turro's property as he returned from delivering Philippe's letter. There were no horses set out to graze, and as he approached the main gates he saw a young woman bundled in her cloak. She stood on the side of the road, her hands in the air.

"Monsieur!"

Gabe reined his horse and dismounted, immediately recognizing her as one of the girls who had worked the orchards over the summer, well before Monsieur Belmont had moved into the Manor. She was one of many limber children perfect for climbing trees. However, she was a wily little thing, always sly as a fox when it came to her pranks. She was like a little sister to Gabe.

"Laure."

Her expression changed once she recognized him. "Monsieur Gabe!" she exclaimed. She curtsied twice and clasped her hands. "You are well?"

He nodded, noticing how thin she appeared. Her face had changed, the usual pink in her cheeks nonexistent. "May I ask why you are here, Laure?"

"I am looking for someone."

Gabe nodded. "You should return inside. It's too cold for someone as small as you."

She gave an unladylike snort to his comment. "I am not small. I am a woman."

He attempted to refrain from chuckling at her words, as she could not have been older than eight or nine years old. "Where is your sister?"

Laure glanced behind her at the long drive leading to the Turro estate. "Sabine has been in bed for two days."

Gabe followed the young girl's gaze up the driveway. "You work for the Turro Family?" He glanced at Laure, who didn't return his gaze.

"For Monsieur Turro, yes."

"The father or the son?"

"I have never met the father. Only the son," she mumbled.

"What is the matter with Sabine?"

Laure exhaled. "She will not say. She is sick in the mornings often and does not start her duties until the afternoon."

"Have you called for a doctor?"

"She refuses."

Gabe looked around the road, knowing full well that the young girl had been searching for her employer. He started to excuse himself and return to the estate when Laure stepped forward.

"You have not seen Monsieur Turro, have you, Monsieur Gabe?"

Once again she didn't look at him when she spoke, which struck Gabe as odd. For as long as he had known her and her older sister, who had cared for all the younger children, they had always been a gregarious pair.

Gabe sighed, uncertain of what to tell her.

"I believe he left the estate last night. I thought he was in Sabine's room telling her a story,but she said she had not seen him."

"A story?"

"He tells us both many stories." She looked at Gabe and frowned. "He will return on his own accord. This isn't the first time he has left and not returned by morning."

"You'll freeze out here. It's warmer inside, Laure," Gabe replied.

She nodded.

"Perhaps I should return this evening to see if Sabine is feeling better?" he offered.

The girl smiled. "Does Monsieur Dupree work at the Manor still?"

"He does."

"Perhaps you would be so kind as to send him." With one last curtsy she trotted through the gates and up the drive. Gabe watched her in silence until he saw her reach the main house and disappear through the front door.

-o-

Gabe startled Philippe as he cantered toward the stable.

"Is my letter on its way to Paris?" he called out as loudly as he could with his neck still tightly bandaged.

"Laure," he said through his teeth.

Philippe furrowed his brow. "Pardon me?"

"Turro. He employs both Laure and Sabine." He jumped from the saddle and stormed toward Philippe, who backed away. He'd never seen Gabe angry before, and the sight of the horsemaster's son so livid was not one Philippe wished to see ever again.

"How do you know this?"

"I saw Laure."

Philippe vaguely remembered Laure but he did recall Sabine, whom he'd befriended the previous summer. The young woman had made certain that there was food for all of the children and that they retired for the night with clean hands and faces. He had no idea what had become of the pair once the season had come to an end, but he wished he had hired Sabine to work with Sophia and Citrine. Sabine was several months older than Sophia and, considering how annoyed he was with Citrine at the moment, a more suitable companion.

"Where did you see her?"

"Outside of the horse farm, near the road. She was searching for her employer."

Philippe stared at the ground. "Did you tell her--?"

Gabe grabbed Philippe by the shoulder. "I would tell her nothing of that…that bastard. She said he would come to them at night and tell them stories," he said, still speaking through his teeth. "Tell me, what business does a man have with a child Laure's age?"

"I know."

The look on Gabe's face told Philippe that his friend had every intention of continuing the conversation. "She's very young but she no longer has the look of a child, Philippe."

"We must move the body," Philippe explained, keeping his voice even. "Then we will pay them a visit."

"Sabine is ill."

Philippe met Gabe's eye. "Ill?"

"In the mornings."

Philippe didn't say another word on the subject. "We need two horses. I'll drag Turro's body before I put him onto one of our animals."

"Where will you discard him?"

"Near the overseer's home." Philippe ran his hand over his hair. "I'd rather burn him but I suppose it would draw too much attention. I believe he'll be buried in the vicinity but honestly, if Monsieur Belmont's offer still stands and I have control of the orchards, then I would rather have his ghost haunting somewhere else."

Gabe nodded. "I'll find a shovel and meet you on the other side of the orchards.

-o-

Erik met both Philippe and Gabe outside the smokehouse. Gabe was mounted on horseback and was prepared to leave but stopped when he saw his employer stride across the yard.

"Where are the Mademoiselles?" Erik questioned. He surveyed the horses, two of which were saddled and a third whose reins were tied to the larger horse's saddle.

"I told them to stay inside," Philippe said firmly. He held the two saddled horses by the reins and shifted his weight. "Monsieur, it seems we have little to fear of someone from his estate searching for him."

Gabe muttered under his breath and Erik glanced at him, noticing the twisted expression on the groomsman's face.

Erik reached for the reins of the nearest horse. "Explain."

Before Philippe spoke, Gabe heeled his horse and rode away. He left with a shovel in hand and the remaining two men staring at one another.

Philippe exhaled. "There were two girls who were employed here the summer before you arrived," he said, briefly explaining that Gabe had discovered the two had been hired by Turro. "The little one cannot be older than eight or nine."

Erik stared at Philippe and thought of Christine, whom he'd first met when she was a mere child in the opera house. His intentions, however, were not based on intimate feelings for her. He'd come to her by accident, not out of desire, and knew her only by her voice. With two dozen ballerinas on the stage he never knew what she looked like and he didn't much care while he sat in his private box. She was his student, an experiment of sorts. He taught her because she listened and he heard the potential in her voice, not because he found her sexually inviting.

It wasn't until she acquired a room of her own that he knew her face, and it was not until shortly before her childhood sweetheart had arrived at the opera house that he'd realized his feelings for her as a woman. Still, he was not proud of his actions.

This situation, however, hadn't a drop of innocence in it.

Philippe scratched his horse's muzzle. "In short, Monsieur, I believe Gabe would like to dig the hole himself and toss the first stone on the body."

Erik stared straight ahead and considered Philippe's words.

"Where is a suitable place to bury him?"

To that Philippe sighed. "Gabe has already selected a location." He paused and met Erik's eye. "It's about a half mile from the overseer's house. I think you will agree that it suits our…needs, if you will."

An unexpected shiver ran down Erik's back. He nodded to Philippe, who understood the wordless command and helped him move the body onto the pack horse.

Erik exhaled and stared at the dormant orchard briefly. His only thought was that he desired to return indoors and scrub his hands clean.

"Make haste," he said as he turned toward Philippe. "The sooner this is done the better."

With that he swung into the saddle and waited for Philippe to mount his gelding.