Free Chateau of Secrets: A Novel by Melanie Dobson

Sauver.”
    She threw the blanket off her chest again. “But it’s time for us to ride.”
    I kissed her cheek, blinking back my tears. “Perhaps you can go riding tomorrow.”

Chapter 11
    T he ring of the doorbell startled Gisèle, and she almost sliced her finger with the paring knife. Across the table, Émilie was chopping leeks, and Gisèle saw the fear mirrored in her eyes. But perhaps the news wasn’t bad this time. It could be the Polins or even Nadine with good news for them.
    “Be careful,” Émilie warned her, as if Gisèle could somehow ward off the Germans with her caution.
    Shadow trailed her to the window beside the door. There wasn’t an automobile in the courtyard, but she saw a bicycle. And the blond curls of a young woman standing on the flagstone outside.
    Opening the door, she hurried the woman inside. Lisette was barely seventeen, but she had stolen Michel’s heart two years ago. When Michel left with the Armée de Terre, Lisette began coming by often to visit her.
    Gisèle kissed Lisette on both of her cheeks and then escorted her into the salon.
    “Have you heard any news of Michel?” Lisette begged as she sat on the couch across from Gisèle.
    She wished she could offer her the comfort of the truth. Instead she shook her head.
    Lisette dabbed her cheeks with a white handkerchief. “I wish he would send a letter.”
    “We haven’t received a letter from England in months,” Gisèle said.
    “Surely the Germans will let us get mail.”
    Gisèle hated the resignation in Lisette’s voice, as if the Germans would bring an end to their problems. “The Germans will be gone soon,” she insisted.
    “I don’t think so.” Lisette folded the handkerchief on her lap. “They’ve begun moving men into the courthouse in Saint-Lô. They want to make it their headquarters for all of La Manche.”
    Gisèle shuddered at the thought of all those soldiers she’d seen remaining in the city. “How do you know?”
    “Someone told them my uncle had been a translator during the Great War so they knocked on our door. He was too ill to leave the apartment, but I could translate for them.”
    The telephone rang out from her father’s office. For a moment, Gisèle ignored it, as if Papa would answer the call. Then she leapt to her feet.
    The telephone lines had been restored.
    She excused herself and hurried toward the office.
    Trepidation filled her along with a bit of excitement as she reached for the black receiver. “Hello?”
    “Gisèle?” It was Philippe on the other end of the line.
    “It’s me!” she exclaimed, so glad to hear his voice. “Is Papa with you?”
    “Are you safe?”
    “Yes, but I—”
    “I’ve been trying to call.” His words rushed out. “I searched all over for you.”
    “I went to the Batiers’ house.”
    The line clicked. “Who?”
    “My friends’ home. Is Papa with you?”
    There was a scratching sound on the line and then she heard a muffled voice. The Germans may have restored their telephone lines, but it seemed they might be listening to their calls as well.
    “What did you say?” he asked.
    “Papa,” she repeated again. “Is he with you?”
    “No,” he said. “I haven’t seen him.”
    Her excitement leached out of her. “Are you in Lyon?”
    “Yes.”
    She fell back into her father’s chair, and Shadow jumped on her lap. If Papa wasn’t with Philippe, where had he gone?
    Lisette stepped into the office. “Is it Michel?” she mouthed.
    When Gisèle shook her head, Lisette retreated back into the salon, leaving her alone with her cat and Philippe’s voice.
    “Did the Germans bomb the château?”
    “No, the house and property are safe.”
    “Good,” he said. “Quite good.”
    “Is your mother safe?” she asked.
    “She’s right beside me.” Another crackling sound on the line interrupted his words. “We’re trying to figure out how to get you here as well. We could marry—”
    “I can’t leave the château,” she interrupted.