Elusive by Linda Rae Blair Page B

added
softly, “or if I will be back.”
    The women both started to interrupt her, but
once again quieted when she raised her hand. “Please, Madame,
Esmée, let me get this out. This is very difficult for me. I love
both of you so very much, and I know this hurts you, but I have to
go.” Once they agreed to remain silent, she continued.
    “I have business to tend to that I cannot do
here. I cannot tell you where I am going. I only ask that you not
tell anyone that I have gone. Just tell them I left your
employment, Madame—that you have no idea where I am. Once I am
able, I will write to you. But, even then, if I ask you to keep my
whereabouts unknown, I must have your promise to do so.”
    Madame was incredulous. “Can we not help you,
Blair? There must be something we can do! Oui?”
    “No, Madame,” she hadn’t wanted to frighten
them, but she saw now that they would not let her go easily. “There
is danger, Madame—danger for you, for Esmée, and for me if certain
parties find out where I have gone, so I cannot tell you.”
    “Why can we not…” Madame stopped herself,
suddenly realizing that she should not be arguing with the girl’s
request. “No, I am sorry, Chéri. If this is what you must do, then
you must. You are a good girl, Blair. You would not leave without a
very good reason.” Gripping Blair by the shoulders, “But I fear for
you, little one. Is there no other way, no help we can get for you?
Perhaps the police should be told?”
    “No, Madame. This is a matter I cannot
discuss with anyone. Please grant me this one last favor. You have
always been so very kind to me. I would not do this if it was not
absolutely necessary. Please know that,” she said, pleading with
the woman whose eyes were now filled with tears.
    “Oui, mon chéri, we will do this for you.
Esmée?”
    “Yes, Madame. Yes, Blair. I promise to say
nothing,” Esmée promised with tears running down her flushed
cheeks.
    It had been every bit as difficult to say
goodbye to them as she had known it would be. She had, once again,
promised to write but told them that it might be awhile before she
could do so. She could not tell them that her life could be in
danger if her letters to them were found. It was better that they
hear the whole story after-the-fact. She hoped, no—she knew—they
would forgive her.
    As she walked toward her apartment she saw it
coming. Her mind almost did not allow it to register in time but
the taxi was coming straight at her. The cabbie had his hat pulled
down enough that she could not see his face. He was certainly close
enough to identify when she finally snapped out of the shock and
barely managed to jump to safety. But his was not a face she had
ever seen before.
    Other pedestrians came to her rescue, shocked
at the near hit-and-run she had managed to avoid. The amazed
discussion of what the others had seen confirmed her opinion. The
taxi had been headed straight for her, intent on running her down.
It had not been in her imagination. Someone had tried to kill
her.
    Her heart was racing. She would have to leave
for Edinburgh immediately. After assuring the crowd that she was
fine, she ran the rest of the way to her apartment. First she
packed her bag, and then she braced herself for another
goodbye.
    She knocked on Mssr. LeGard’s door. He
answered in the old silk robe he lounged in so many mornings. His
face lit up when he saw her. “Chéri, please come in.”
    She kissed his wrinkled cheeks and followed
him to the little bench in their garden. “Monsieur, I have decided
to take your advice and go on a little vacation. I may be gone for
some time, and I did not want you to worry about me.”
    “Oh, bien, Chéri. It will be very good for
you! Where do you go?” he asked, as he patted her hands which were
gently gripped in his own.
    “I thought I would spend some time on the
coast in Bretagne. It is lovely there in the spring,” she put her
best smile on her face. If he thought she was