She dragged her eyes slowly over his face in the low light of the lamp, at the way his shirt fell with one arm tucked up high in the sling Cate had made for him. Even one-armed and with a bruise circling his eye, he was still the most handsome man she’d ever clapped eyes on.

“Goodnight, Harry.”

And as he quietly disappeared, she laid her cheek flat to the table, closing her eyes and feeling the night’s silence surround her.

What have I done?

CHAPTER THIRTEEN CATE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CATE

It had been two days since they’d arrived in Le Paradis, and Cate was starting to understand the meaning of claustrophobia. She supposed she could go outside briefly if she wanted to; she was supposed to be the cousin of Elise and Adelaide, after all, but she was terrified now of being found out. Those first hours after they’d arrived, she’d kept her head, focusing on her job and doing what she knew so well. But once she’d finally gone to bed that night and slept, fitfully despite the comfortable surroundings, all she’d been able to see in her head were the people she’d left behind. They were coming to her in her dreams, calling for her, asking her why she’d left them. She kept seeing patients bleeding, crying in pain, and her feet wouldn’t move, like she was stuck in quicksand.

That’s what you get for abandoning everyone.

The attic was dark with the blinds pulled, and although she longed to let the light in and breathe fresh air, she wanted to keep it comfortable for Jack. They’d managed to carry him up the night before, terrified he’d be discovered downstairs if they had a surprise visitor. He’d slept fitfully in the beginning, too, but then he’d eased into a much more settled slumber. At times she’d wondered whether he would ever wake, but he’d stirred twice now, long enough for her to spoon some water into his mouth and wipe his brow before he fell asleep again.

Cate sat beside him, peering at his face and seeing there was no longer a wet line beading across his forehead. Her hope was that any fever he’d had had broken; a quick look under his bandages would tell her if there was an infection, but she didn’t want to rouse him, not when he was sleeping so peacefully. Instead she reached inside the shirt she was wearing for her ring, tugging gently at the chain that kept it around her neck. She closed her fingers around it and thought of Charlie, but her hand fell away like it had been burnt when Jack’s face swam in her gaze.