Page 21 of Storm Winds
Philippe began to chuckle and Catherine’s blush deepened to bright scarlet.
Jean Marc turned to Catherine. “Is that what—” He stopped as he saw the tears begin to roll down her cheeks.“Sacre bleu. Why didn’t you tell us?”
Miserable, Catherine gazed up at him. “It would have been indelicate. My governess, Claire, says such subjects are never discussed in polite company. I was afraid you’d think—” She broke off as a sob robbed her of the little breath she still possessed.
“The knife.” Juliette’s fingers wriggled demandingly, and this time Philippe unsheathed his jeweled dress dagger and placed it in her hand.
Juliette dropped the dagger on the bed and was immediately behind Catherine, unfastening her peach-colored brocade gown. “You know you’re very stupid to let them do this to you? Why did you not fight them?”
“It was only for a short time.” Catherine gasped. “Claire said every woman should be willing to suffer to look attractive.”
“Hush,” Juliette said. “Save your breath.” She cast a glance over her shoulder at Jean Marc. “Tell your father this Claire is a fool and should be dismissed. It’s clear the girl’s too gentle to fight for herself.”
Catherine’s gown was finally unfastened and Juliette started to spread the material to reveal the lacings of the corset.
Catherine suddenly stiffened and whirled to face them. “No.”
Juliette scowled. “Stop this foolishness. Do you wish—”
“Philippe must go away. It’s not proper he should see me in dishabille.”
Juliette gazed at her in astonishment. “Proper? He’ll see you gasping like a chicken with its neck wrung if you don’t get these lacings undone.”
Catherine’s jaw set. “It’s not proper.”
“Go away and come back in fifteen minutes, Philippe,” Jean Marc said quickly.
Philippe nodded and gave Catherine an understanding smile before leaving the chamber.
Juliette muttered something beneath her breath that sounded remarkably like an oath as she picked up the dagger from the bed and began to saw through the lacings of the corset. A moment later she had cut through the last lacing and the corset sprang open. “There, that’s over.”
Catherine drew a deep shuddering breath.“Merci.”
“Don’t thank me. You should never have been bound in the first place. From now on, when someone tries to bind you, cut yourself free. How old are you?”
“Three and ten.”
“I’m four and ten and I haven’t worn a corset since I was seven. It took six months before Marguerite finally gave up trying to lace me into one, but it’s foolish to let them take your breath just because fashion decrees you must.” She turned to Jean Marc and demanded, “Well, will you fight for her?”
“As well as I can. I travel a great deal and my father is ill.” Jean Marc smiled enigmatically. “Though I see now my cousin definitely needs a champion. Perhaps I can arrange something.”
“Truly, Claire is usually very kind,” Catherine said, troubled. “I wouldn’t want her to suffer because of my foolishness. I should have told her the lacings were too tight.”
“She should have seen it.” Juliette started to refasten Catherine’s gown and then stopped.“Bon Dieu!”
“What’s wrong?” Catherine glanced anxiously over her shoulder.
“The gown won’t fasten now,” Juliette said in disgust. “I can’t even get it closed.”
“Claire stitched me into it after the corset was fastened.” Catherine sighed resignedly. “Perhaps you’d better try to lace up the corset again.”
Juliette shook her head. “Monsieur Guilleme’s given you a chamber a few doors from here. We’ll go there and you can rest until the servants can bring your trunks from the carriage.” She pushed Catherine toward the door and glanced at Jean Marc over her shoulder. “Don’t overtire yourself. I have no desire to have two of you gasping for breath.”
“As you command,” Jean Marc replied sardonically.
Juliette turned back to Catherine, ignoring his tone. “You still look pale, take deep breaths.”
In another moment Juliette had whisked Catherine from the chamber.
