Even though Simon always heard Guy arrive, he could not hear what was said in the parlor. But once, after Constance had been there for ten days, he did overhear one scrap of conversation as Guy was leaving. He had mounted his horse just under Simon’s window, so his head was only a few feet away. He had turned down to his cousin, who was standing in the doorway.

“You know, Cousin,” he remarked, “this killing of Protestants is a nasty business, no question. Yet when it’s all over, we may be glad of it. If destroying one community of heretics is the price of uniting France, maybe we should pay it.” Then he had ridden away.

The words had come through the window quite clearly. Simon looked down at little Constance. Had she heard? Had she understood? Yes. Her face was quite still, but her mouth was open in shock. He put his arm around her. After a few moments he felt her shaking, and saw the tears roll down her cheeks, but she cried silently, because she knew she must not make a sound.

And somehow, after that, he could never love his uncle Guy the way he had before.

Constance had been there for two weeks when Pierre told his son that it would be safe for him to take her to her family in La Rochelle. “There has been no assault on the town so far,” he explained, and the roads seemed to be clear. “I shall say that I am returning a niece to your mother’s family in Poitiers. That’s well on the way. I should be able to get Constance safely across from Poitiers to La Rochelle.”

He was going to leave the city the following afternoon. Simon’s mother would take both the apprentice and the serving girl out with her while they left.

“Just think,” Simon whispered to her before they went to sleep, “you’ll see your family soon.”

“I shall miss you,” she whispered back. “Will you come to see me?”

“Of course,” he said, though he had no idea whether such a thing would ever be possible.

They were standing together in the parlor the next afternoon, while Pierre was saddling his horse. The house was empty. Simon looked at the dark-haired little girl he had been living with for the last two weeks and felt the need to say something.

“When I’m grown up, I shall marry you,” he declared.

“You will?”

“If you like.”

Just then, Pierre came into the room.

“Time to go,” he announced, and took Constance by the hand.

But when they got to the door, she turned and ran back to where Simon was standing, and kissed him before his father led her out.

Chapter Eleven

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