Chapter Eighteen
DAGONET FOLLOWED HIM out of the room, not certain that he should, but giving in to his morbid curiosity. Vallentyn headed toward the nursery, the scene of all of the recent family drama, but the maid led them down the hall rather than up the other flight of stairs.
They could hear the lady’s wails long before they reached her room.
“No! No! No! It can’t be,” she cried loudly.
Vallentyn picked up speed, nearly running down the hall toward his wife. “Tatiana, Tatiana, my love! What’s the matter? What’s wrong?”
She was kneeling in the middle of the large bed, which dominated the room, her arms outstretched, her fingers curled into claws.
Vallentyn laced his fingers through hers as he joined her on the bed. “It’s okay, my love. Whatever it is, it will be all right.” His
