“Of course, right away.”
“I’ll go—” Brian started to say.
Jeffrey whirled around. “You damn well won’t! Keep yourself and your blasted mumbo jumbo away from my wife, do you hear?”
Brian’s chubby cheeks turned a dark, mottled pink. “I didn’t cause your wife any harm, Doctor van Bredin.”
“You’d better hope that’s true.” Jeffrey swung Noelle into his arms and started for the stairs. “Marilyn, which bedroom should we use?”
“Mine. First door at the head of the stairs.”
Jeffrey carried Noelle up the stairs. “What happened, Noelle? You still look ghastly.”
“To be honest, I don’t feel too great, either.” She shuddered with remembered pain. “At least those dreadful stomach cramps have stopped.”
He slipped off her shoes and lay her on the bed, then lifted her skirt and gently palpated her abdomen. “Feel tender?” he inquired. “Do you feel nauseated?
“Actually not at all. In fact, I never felt sick.” Noelle sat up and pushed a heavy swath of hair off her forehead. “I’m beginning to feel like a total fraud.”
Jeffrey lifted her wrist and searched out her pulse. “You looked as if you were on the brink of an epileptic fit. Do you remember what happened?”
“My stomach cramped with violent pain. That’s about it. “
“You flung your arms about like a maniac, then crumpled onto the floor shrieking some sort of foreign-sounding gibberish. You made a total spectacle of yourself, if you want the truth.”
Noelle flushed. “I’m sorry. The pain was so bad, I guess I lost control for a moment.”
“Brian wouldn’t let me near you at first. He claimed you were possessed by one of his damn spirits.”
Noelle’s laughter was entirely genuine. “Honey, I was possessed by a severe case of stomach cramps, nothing more. I was completely aware of all the guests around the table all the time. I knew Aunt Marilyn was behind me. I could hear Brian’s tape bleating out that darn music—”
Jeffrey’s hand stilled. “What music?”
“The baroque chamber music Brian was playing. You know the tape I mean. Purcell, or maybe Telemann, played on authentic seventeenth-century instruments.”
Jeffrey avoided her gaze. “Brian didn’t play any music. There was no tape.”
“But of course there was! I heard it!”
Marilyn van Bredin came into the bedroom. “Here’s your medical bag, Jeffrey. Do you still need it?”
“Yes,” he said, his voice grim. “I think I do.”
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To Catch the Wind
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Table of Contents
Folk Rhyme
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Epilogue
Excerpt: To Catch the Wind
Other Titles