“Do not tell him I am here,” hissed the voice in warning and Caroleen felt a pressure, almost like a pinch in her soul. She ignored the voice and whispered,<br/><br/>“The 6th of June? Who is the king?” she asked. “The king of France, who is it?” She wasn’t sure how to find out what year it was any other way.  Caroleen’s mind was frantically searching. Her baby was to have been born on the day of fools in April. She must have died in childbirth, but how long ago?<br/><br/>“Sorry,” she whispered and really looked at the man who introduced himself as Ivan Crane. “I’m Caroleen Xavier.”<br/><br/>“Isn’t this just touching,” the voice sneered.<br/><br/>“I’m sorry about your wife. You must have loved her very much to try to bring her back to you.” She said, in a small voice. She was not so afraid not but still not quite confident. Caroleen looked demurely at the hands in her lap.<br/><br/>“Sure you are,” sniped the voice. “You better be good to him but you better not enjoy anything of the flesh.”<br/><br/>“So I’m damned if I do and damned if I don’t?” Caroleen asked aloud, and sighed. She leaned her head against the wall of the carriage, staring out the window but not really seeing anything.<br/><br/>“Mr. Crane, whatever are we going to do? I think I have died. I do not know if my babe lived and how fares my husband and children. Am I supposed to remember those things?” Two tears spilled down her lovely, otherwise serene face.<br/><br/>A man's handkerchief was placed in her upturned palm and she crushed the linen in her grasp.<br/><br/>"You have lost your wife and so I know you might not be sympathetic to my poor Gustav and my boys, but but, " she sputtered, not knowing how to ask or what to ask.<br/><br/>Teresa's cold little laugh sent chills down her spine and made gooseflesh raise on her arms.<br/><br/>"Where are we going? Where are we right now? I was in France. I'm so lost and confused" Caroleen cried.