would settle for this child as they’d been settled since he was born.
The child had nothing to do with her.
She glanced again at Raoul. His face was a mix of anger and doubt.
Doubt?
He was as unsure as she was, she thought.
It was enough. Before she could go any further down the introspection path-which was getting her exactly nowhere-she walked across to open the bedroom door.
There was a nightlight in the corner, lighting the room enough to see.
Edouard wasn’t asleep at all.
The little boy was curled tightly in the far corner of his too-big bed. His eyes were wide and wakeful. He was all eyes, she thought. All scared eyes.
He was as fair as his big uncle was dark, with wispy white-blond curls, skin that was almost translucent and huge brown eyes that all but enveloped his tiny face. He lay staring at the open door, his face tight with anxiety.
Why wouldn’t you be anxious in this bed? Jess thought, stunned at what she saw. The boa constrictor had triggered her anger and this scene was doing nothing to calm it.
The little boy’s bed was a bed built for a crown prince, not for a baby, and he took up about two per cent of it. There was not a toy in sight. The starched white top sheet was stretched tightly over his chin-there was miles of sheeting, stretched so tight it almost seemed to cut into his chin. The royal insignia was embroidered on the side of the sheet, making the little boy seem even more insignificant. The bed was made with hospital corners, not a crease in sight.
He lay rigid and expressionless. As Jess took a tentative step toward him, he flinched.
Three-year-olds didn’t flinch, Jess thought in incredulity. Unless…maybe someone had yelled. She glanced out through the jungle to the television and a likely scenario presented itself: You be quiet or else.
She was being fanciful.
But she watched the terror grow in these huge brown eyes and she knew she wasn’t being fanciful at all. This child was nowhere near sleep. He was wide awake but the lack of creases in the bedclothes said that he hadn’t moved a muscle in the crazy, too-big bed since he’d been put there.
Since when? Six o’clock was his bedtime, Raoul had said. Three hours ago?
Raoul had walked in behind her. The child’s eyes moved past Jess to his uncle, and to her relief there was a faint lessening of the terror. It was as if he already knew that when this man was around he wouldn’t be yelled at.
‘You’re not asleep,’ Raoul said softly. ‘Hi, Edouard. This is Jessie.’
No response.
‘Pick him up,’ Jess urged. ‘Oh, for heaven’s sake, he looks terrified.’
‘If I pick him up he cries,’ Raoul told her. ‘The same with my mother.’
‘So what does he do when you don’t pick him up?’ she snapped. ‘Does Cosette pick him up?’
‘Sure she does.’
‘Does she cuddle him? Have you seen her?’
‘No, but-’
‘Have you seen her take him outside?’ she demanded. ‘Have you seen her play with him?’
‘He has his schedule. We don’t interfere.’
Jess took a deep breath. Another. She should get out of here. She should run.
Edouard’s eyes were on her face again. Watchful. Filled with apprehension.
He was thinking that she was yet another babysitter, she thought. Another servant paid to look after him.
She stared down at him in dismay. His hair was just like…
No.
But right then, right as she made the comparison, she knew it was too late. There’d been a connection and she couldn’t break it now.
She walked forward and scooped the little boy out of his bed, mussing his bedclothes in the process. Ignoring the way his body turned rigid. Ignoring the tension that said he was about to open his mouth and wail.
He was thin, she thought. Far too thin. He was dressed in rich-red pyjamas, with that crazy insignia on the jacket. Ridiculous.
She hauled him against her breast. He jerked back, ramrod stiff, and his eyes moved frantically. He opened his mouth, prepared to wail.
‘Hey, it’s OK, Edouard,’ she whispered and she plonked herself down on the crazy, too-big bed. She placed her finger on his lips. ‘You’re not to cry. There’s no need.’ She looked up at Raoul. ‘You know Raoul. You know your uncle. I’m his friend, Jess.’
‘Cosette,’ he whispered, his bottom lip quivering in fear. ‘I want Cosette.’
‘Cosette had to leave in a hurry,’ she told him and her arms held him close. Stiff or not, she held him hard against her body, imparting warmth. ‘But that’s all right because your uncle Raoul’s here and he’s your family. Your grandma’s here, too. Shall I call her?’
The eyes didn’t register a thing.
‘Do you have a teddy?’ she demanded and once more there was no expression at all. The child’s eyes said he was expecting nothing. Any minute he might cry but even that required emotion he wasn’t sure he was prepared to commit.
‘He’s got so many stuffed toys I can’t count,’ Raoul said ruefully. He motioned out to the jungle, where monkeys, elephants, giraffes, snakes, every imaginable stuffed toy was set up in among the carefully orchestrated decor.
‘I don’t mean decorations,’ Jess said scornfully. ‘I mean a teddy. A friend. I know exactly who you need.’ She looked up at Raoul. ‘Uncle Raoul, we need an adventure leader,’ she told him. ‘Edouard’s not the least bit ready to go to sleep, are you, Edouard?’
There was just the faintest, almost imperceptible shake of a blond head. His lips were still quivering, but clearly anything might prove better than lying in this bed.
‘OK. I have a sore shoulder and your uncle Raoul is very strong,’ Jess told him. ‘Raoul, your nephew needs a piggyback.’
‘A piggyback,’ Raoul said, as if she might be losing her mind.
‘Turn around,’ she ordered. She stood up, still holding Edouard close. ‘Edouard, do you know what a piggyback is?’
Another shake of the head, more definite this time.
‘Just think of your uncle Raoul as a two-legged horse,’ she told him. ‘I put you on his back-like this.’ She swung him against Raoul’s broad back. ‘You hang on round his neck as hard as you can. Uncle Raoul will hold you underneath. Raoul,’ she ordered, ‘hang on to Edouard underneath.’
‘Yes, ma’am,’ Raoul told her and hung on to Edouard underneath.
But Edouard didn’t hang on. He pulled back, fearful.
‘I don’t want to,’ he whispered.
‘You know, your uncle Raoul makes a very good horse,’ Jess told him, deliberately misunderstanding his fear. ‘And you don’t want to go to sleep yet, do you?’
‘N…no.’ An almost inaudible whisper.
‘Well, then.’ She wasn’t taking no for an answer. She simply wound his tiny arms around his uncle’s neck and then she stepped back.
He hung on.
‘Excellent,’ she told them both. ‘Follow me.’
‘Where to?’ Raoul asked.
‘It’s an adventure,’ she told him. ‘We’re off to meet a bear. A little bear. A friend bear for Edouard.’ She took a deep breath and tried to swallow pain. ‘Someone who…someone who needs Edouard as much as Edouard needs him. Ready?’
‘Yes, ma’am.’
‘Then gee-up,’ she told him. ‘Pronto.’ She led the way, glancing at the jungle with repugnance as she passed
