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Chapter one Part One Louise stood at the white wooden door, her trunks several steps below on the sidewalk. There was a chill in the air and Louise pulled her sweater closer around her slight body, but the cold had already worked its way to the bone. A moment of resolve brought a white knuckled hand out into the dying light. A scant moment and three terse knocks later, the door was opened by an older woman with a puff of hair sitting beneath her little mob cap. "Oui?" Louise tried to remember the few words of French her aunt had forced her to memorize, but came up empty. She stood there, her mouth open, her mind an absolute blank. "Puis je vous aide?" Shaking her head Louise wondered what the woman was asking her. "I don't speak French." Even as the words come out of her mouth, Louise relized how futile the words were. "Puis je vous aide?" The woman stepped forward and crossed her arms over her burgeoning bosom. Louise couldn't understand her, but her look was unmistakeable. "She's asking you if you need help." The voice came out of the dark interior. The masculine tone was sharp and nearly angry. Louise was relieved and peered into the darkness, looking for her savior, "You speak English!" "Yes, and I'm also very busy. Do you have business here?" Staring into his dark eyes, she wondered if this was the right place, "I think so.. Is there a Henry McCloud here?" A strange fleeting grimace flew over his features, "I haven't heard that name in years. What do you know about him?" Louise searched in her pockets and pulled out a crumpled envelope, "My aunt Lillian gave me this for him." Eyes, black as the night sky and shifty as the changing sea, stared down into her own, "Aunt Lillian? Give me that." He tore the envelope from her hands and walked back into the hall. The women in the mob cap shut the door behind him. Louise was left on the doorstep, shivering in her shoes; the weather in France was much different than St. Louis and she wondered if she'd need to get at least a thicker jacket, the dark clouds gathering in the sky promised a cold Spring. The door jerked open and the woman waved Louise in. 'He' stood just inside, one hand on the back of an ornate chair, staring at her. "I never expected to see you." "Who are you?" she demanded, the chill in her body lent her a harsh voice. "Quite a little tongue on you," He moved closer, "Lillian must have really had her hands full." Louise had a funny feeling in the pit of her stomach and huffed out a breath, "Where is my father?" Setting down the envelope, her host moved to the bar and poured
himself a large glass of brandy,
"He's right here." Instead of waiting for her to ask, he looked her
straight in the eye, "Only they call me Henri now. Henri Nuage."
Title Page The Storybook The Kidnation |