Intrigued (10 page)
“Nonsense!” Madame St. Omer contradicted her sister. “There isn’t a girl in the region as beautiful, and certainly not as wealthy. We shall have all we can do, keeping the fortune hunters away and seeing that only the right gentlemen are permitted to court Autumn. I am so glad,
cher
Jasmine, that you have put this matter into our hands.” She smiled at her cousin, displaying her large, almost rabbbity teeth.
cher
Jasmine, that you have put this matter into our hands.” She smiled at her cousin, displaying her large, almost rabbbity teeth.
After the two sisters had taken their leave, with promises to return early the following day, Autumn said to her mother, “The
tantes
are so . . .” She struggled to find the right word but could not.
tantes
are so . . .” She struggled to find the right word but could not.
“Overwhelming?” Jasmine supplied with a smile. “Aye, both Gaby and ’Toinette are all-engulfing in their desire to see that everything is done properly. I remember my grandmother saying that they were very much like their mother, but Autumn, we are fortunate to have their good advice. I want you happy, my child, and your father would too.”
Suddenly Autumn’s eyes filled with tears. “I miss him, Mama,” she said brokenly. “Why did he insist on going to war for the Stuarts?”
Jasmine closed her eyes for a long moment so she might manage her own grief. Then, opening them, she said, “You know why, Autumn. James Leslie was the most honorable man I have ever known. He knew it was a fatal mistake for the Leslies of Glenkirk to defend and follow after the Stuarts, but they were his overlords, and related to him by blood. In his mind, even realizing it was likely to be a disaster, he felt compelled to obey their call, particularly as his own distant Leslie kin were involved up to their hips in the muddle. Your father might have pleaded his age, but he would not, and it was there he and I disagreed. I do not believe his honor would have been compromised by refusing to go. He did. It was easier for him to live with my disapproval than his own self-scorn. So he is dead and in his tomb at Glenkirk, and you and I are here in France, attempting to make a new life for ourselves.”
“But what of Patrick?” Autumn fretted.
Her mother laughed now. “Poor Patrick. He always knew that one day he should be the Duke of Glenkirk, but I know he never expected to find himself with all that responsibility so soon. He will survive. Both your father and I were good teachers. Patrick will reach down into himself to find he has both the wisdom and the strength to do what he must. Before I left him I advised him to find a wife to stand by his side. He should have by now had his fill of enjoying the ladies while avoiding his obligations. Now he has no choice in the matter.” She laughed again. “When I left Glenkirk I thought never to return, but now I know that I will one day go back. After all, I do want to be buried next to your father when my time comes.”
“Oh, do not talk of your death, Mama!” Autumn cried, genuinely distressed, throwing her arms about her surviving parent.
“I intend to live to be an old lady, even as my mother is and my grandmother was,” Jasmine soothed her daughter. “I must if I am to see your children and spoil them as Madame Skye spoiled me.”
“Grandmama Velvet never spoiled me,” Autumn said.
“It is not my mother’s way,” Jasmine said.
“And I never knew Papa’s mother, even though I get my green eye from her,” Autumn said. “I remember when I was almost thirteen, her coffin was brought home from Italy. I never knew where she was buried. Papa said it was a secret. Why was that?”
“I suppose it is all right for me to tell you now,” Jasmine said. “Your grandmother’s great love was her second husband, Francis Stewart-Hepburn, the last Earl of Bothwell. He was King James’s first cousin, and poor Jamie was terrified of him, for Francis was everything the king wasn’t. He was highly intelligent, handsome, passionate, and clever. He was called the uncrowned King of Scotland, which of course didn’t please the king or his adherents. His weakness, however, was that when his royal cousin pushed, Francis, I am told, pushed back twice as hard. The king’s counselors had him accused of witchcraft, claiming he was a warlock.”
“Was he?” Autumn was fascinated by this bit of history, which she had never before heard.
“No, of course not,” Jasmine laughed, “and despite the fact that the courts dragged forth several hysterical women—of low birth, I might add—claiming to be witches who identified him as a member of their coven, nothing could really be proved. What no one knew was that the king had a passion for your grandmother. He raped her one night, and she fled to Bothwell, who had been her friend. They fell in love, and eventually, after Lord Bothwell had been exiled and driven from Scotland, your grandmother, who was a widow, joined him, and they were married. It was actually your father who engineered his mother’s escape, and then pretended to know nothing when the king grew angry. Jamie never knew the part your father played.
“When we came to France some years back for the wedding of Princess Henrietta Maria to our king, Charles I, I met your grandmother for the very first and only time. She asked your father when she died to bring her body and Lord Bothwell’s home to Scotland to be buried on the grounds of the old Glenkirk Abbey. He had already predeceased her. Bothwell’s body was removed secretly from its grave in the garden of their villa in Naples. His bones were placed in your grandmother’s coffin with her, and they were, as she had requested, interred together. Your father did not tell me until the coffin was returned to Scotland. Patrick knows now, for I told him before I left Glenkirk, so he would be certain to see the grave was always tended properly. Now you know, Autumn.”
“I think that is the most romantic story I have ever heard!” Autumn said with a gusty sigh.
“And that is not even the entire story,” Jasmine said with a smile, “but it is much too long a tale for today. Now we must consider preparing you for society, and the possibility of your finding a husband. I shall give you one word of advice,
ma bébé.
Do not marry just to marry. Do not choose a man because everyone else says he is the
right
man. Marry for love,
ma fille.
Marry only for love!”
ma bébé.
Do not marry just to marry. Do not choose a man because everyone else says he is the
right
man. Marry for love,
ma fille.
Marry only for love!”
“Why would you marry for any other reason, Mama?” Autumn cuddled next to her mother as they sat before the fire.
“Marriage,” Jasmine began, “is a sacrament, and that is what I was taught; but it is a business arrangement as well. There is property and wealth involved with people of our station. More often than not, love is not considered before marriage. It is hoped that it will come after marriage.”
“But what if it doesn’t?” Autumn asked.
“Then it is hoped that at least the couple involved can respect one another and live together in harmony. My first marriage was arranged by my father. I did not meet Jamal Khan until our wedding day. Fortunately my husband and I fell in love as we grew to know each other. My grandparents arranged my second marriage with Rowan Lindley, but he and I were in love before we wed. My third marriage, to your father, was ordered by King James. You know the story, so I need not go into it with you. Your father and I were fortunate in that we loved one another dearly. I allowed your sisters their heart’s desires, and it has turned out well for both of them. Now you, my youngest daughter, my last child, must find a mate. Choose wisely, Autumn. Your marriage will last until his death, or yours.”
Autumn nodded, then asked, “Am I to become a Catholic, Mama?”
“You were baptized one, although you were not raised in that faith. Such things are not important to me, but here in France they are. I will speak with Guillaume about his son, who is a priest, so you may be taught the faith you must practice and must teach your children one day,” Jasmine told her daughter.
Then, that same day, she spoke with Guillaume about his son.
“Has he found a place yet?”
“No, madame la duchesse, he has not,” answered Guillaume.
“Since I intend making my home here at Belle Fleurs, we must really have a priest,” Jasmine explained. “There is a chapel here in the house, isn’t there?”
“Oui,
madame, behind the hall next to the library,” came the reply, “but it has not been used in years,” Guillaume said.
madame, behind the hall next to the library,” came the reply, “but it has not been used in years,” Guillaume said.
“I shall tell Adali to have the serving girls open it up and clean it. What is your son’s name?”
“Bernard,” Guillaume replied. He could barely stand still, for he wanted to go and tell his wife, Pascaline, of this stroke of good fortune that had befallen them.
“Tell Pere Bernard that I shall expect him here before week’s end to take up his duties. He will live in the house until a small cottage can be built for him. I will explain his responsibilities to him when he arrives and is settled. Go and tell your
bonne femme
now, for I can see in your eyes that you are anxious to do so.” Then Jasmine smiled.
bonne femme
now, for I can see in your eyes that you are anxious to do so.” Then Jasmine smiled.
Guillaume bowed several times.
“Merci,
madame la duchesse,
mille merci!”
He hurried off in the direction of the kitchens.
“Merci,
madame la duchesse,
mille merci!”
He hurried off in the direction of the kitchens.
They had settled in, and now Jasmine was bringing a priest to the house. France was really going to be her home, she considered.
I never thought to leave Glenkirk when I married Jemmie. I have lived so many places in my life. I wonder if this is my final home, or whether fate will surprise me again in my old age.
Then she laughed softly at herself. A change made life interesting. She had gotten too complacent with her life at Glenkirk. She had not left there since they had come home from Ulster, and Autumn had been a little baby. Oh, occasionally she would come down into England for an English summer with her mother, but Queen’s Malvern had changed with Charlie’s marriage to Bess. She had been content to remain in her own home.
I never thought to leave Glenkirk when I married Jemmie. I have lived so many places in my life. I wonder if this is my final home, or whether fate will surprise me again in my old age.
Then she laughed softly at herself. A change made life interesting. She had gotten too complacent with her life at Glenkirk. She had not left there since they had come home from Ulster, and Autumn had been a little baby. Oh, occasionally she would come down into England for an English summer with her mother, but Queen’s Malvern had changed with Charlie’s marriage to Bess. She had been content to remain in her own home.
Now, however, life was taking her by the hand and leading her down a new path. She hoped she had done the right thing, bringing Autumn to France. What if she didn’t find a husband to love? What would happen to her daughter then? Jasmine sighed deeply. She had always considered herself independent and self-reliant. Now she wished Jemmie Leslie, her beloved husband, was still by her side. All these decisions she had made regarding her children she had made with his help and advice. They had looked over their combined family together. She hadn’t done it alone at all. Not until now.
“Damn the Stuarts!” she said softly. “And damn you, Jemmie Leslie, for going off and leaving me alone! Your loyalty to me should have been greater than your loyalty to the Stuarts. What did they ever do for you? Nothing!” Then she began to cry bitter tears.
“My princess, drink this.” Her faithful Adali was by her side, pressing a small crystal of cordial into her hand.
She swallowed the potent liquid down and then said, “What am I to do without him, Adali? What if I have made the wrong move in this chess game of life?” She looked up at the old man, now past eighty.
The kindly brown eyes met hers without hesitation. “His loss is great indeed, my princess, but we survived before him and we will survive now. There was nothing for your daughter in Scotland or England. If her fate is here, we will know it soon enough. If not, we will go where we are directed, even as we have always done. You are strong, my princess. You have always been strong. Rohana, Toramalli, and I have been by your side since your birth to aid you. None of us will desert you now.”
“We are old, Adali,” she said. “I am past sixty.”
He made an elegant swirl of motion with his hand. “Age, my princess, is but a number. Oh, the body grows old, but it is what is in the heart that keeps us young.”
She was forced to smile now. “Then like Grandmama, I shall remain forever young, Adali, even if I eventually turn into a wizened crone.” She swallowed down the rest of the cordial. “I think I have finished feeling sorry for myself now. Thank you.”
He bowed slightly from the waist. “I overheard the two mesdames, and I have been to the storerooms in the cellar below the kitchens. It is filled with trunks holding absolutely magnificent fabrics. The trunks were cedar, and lined in copper. The fabrics are free of mildew, or mold. They will, of course, need airing to disperse the cedar fragrance, but other than that, they will be fine. I shall have them brought to the hall. The chapel was locked, and I could not find the key for it, but relying on some of my old skills, I managed to open the door. We shall take the lock to the blacksmith and have a new key made.”
“You will not let me rest, Adali, will you?” Jasmine said with a chuckle, and she patted his arm lovingly.
“Time will not wait for us, my princess, no matter how much we wish it,” Adali said. “We have work to do if young Autumn is to be ready for her debut into French society.”
The Duchess of Glenkirk arose from her chair by the fire. “Very well, Adali, lead on,” she told him, and together they departed the Great Hall.
Chapter
5
5
“M
ademoiselle must have at least a hundred petticoats.”
ademoiselle must have at least a hundred petticoats.”
“One hundred petticoats?”
Autumn was astounded by the tailor’s pronouncement. “M’sieu Reynaud, why do I need so many petticoats?”
Autumn was astounded by the tailor’s pronouncement. “M’sieu Reynaud, why do I need so many petticoats?”
“Mademoiselle,” came the pained reply, “the farthingale is passé. It is the petticoat that is fashionable now. They give body to the skirts, and you certainly do not want your skirts drooping about you in a bedraggled and ragtag manner, like some merchant’s daughter, or”—he rolled his eyes dramatically—“a street urchin.
Non! Non! Non!
One hundred petticoats is absolutely the least number you can have. Silk, of course. It has the best texture,” he explained.
Non! Non! Non!
One hundred petticoats is absolutely the least number you can have. Silk, of course. It has the best texture,” he explained.
“Starched lawn will not do for some of them?” Jasmine asked.
“If madame la duchesse wishes to scrimp . . .” The tailor raised a disapproving eyebrow and shrugged his bony shoulders.
Jasmine laughed, not in the least intimidated by the tailor. “I will agree to one hundred silk petticoats for my daughter, M’sieu Reynaud, but she must also have twenty-five lawn petticoats as well. They are cooler on a summer’s day. Not for evening wear, of course, but for morning or afternoon, you understand.”
“But of course, madame la duchesse,” the tailor said with a small smile. “Madame is absolutely correct. I bow to her fashion sense.”
“He bows to her well-filled purse,” murmured Madame St. Omer in low tones. “Why have I never before noted what a terrible snob Reynaud is? But he is the best tailor in all of France, even Paris. Worse! He is well aware of that fact, the little beast.”
“Oh, hush, sister, lest he hear you!” Madame de Belfort whispered back nervously. “You know how he is, and if you insult him, he will not do Autumn’s wardrobe for her. Without him what chance has she?”
“Have you had the opportunity to inspect the fabrics I have?” the Duchess of Glenkirk asked the tailor.
M’sieu Reynaud burst into rapturous cries of approval. “Madame, never in my life have I seen such quality! The velvets! The brocades! The silks! The cloth of gold and of silver! And the ribbons and laces, madame! Where on earth did you obtain such magnificence?”
“My grandmother left them here many years ago,” Jasmine said. “They were in my storerooms, m’sieu.”
“C’est
impossible! They have no odor of rot about them, or any sign of mildew staining the fabric!” the tailor cried.
impossible! They have no odor of rot about them, or any sign of mildew staining the fabric!” the tailor cried.
“The trunks were cedar, lined with copper,” Jasmine explained.
“Amazing!” he replied. Then he was all business once again. “Michel, my tape,
s’il vous plait.
If we are to have anything ready in the ridiculously short time Madame St. Omer has insisted upon, we must begin today. I shall measure mademoiselle myself.”
s’il vous plait.
If we are to have anything ready in the ridiculously short time Madame St. Omer has insisted upon, we must begin today. I shall measure mademoiselle myself.”
Autumn stood quietly upon a small stool as the tailor swiftly took her measurements, his sharp voice snapping off the figures to his assistant, who quickly wrote them down and then repeated each figure to be certain he had gotten it correctly. Any mistake could be fatal to the wardrobe about to be made. When all the measurements had been taken and written down the tailor spoke again.
“What colors are preferred?”
“I think my daughter . . .” Jasmine began, only to be cut off by the volatile tailor.
“Madame la duchesse, I speak to she who must wear these gowns,” he fiercely chided her. “If
mademoiselle
is unhappy, then she is not at her best with the gentlemen.
N’est-ce pas?”
Turning his back on the mother, he addressed Autumn. “Tell me the colors you like best, mademoiselle.”
mademoiselle
is unhappy, then she is not at her best with the gentlemen.
N’est-ce pas?”
Turning his back on the mother, he addressed Autumn. “Tell me the colors you like best, mademoiselle.”
Autumn thought a moment, and then replied, “My hair is dark and my skin translucent. I like rich, clear colors. Emerald green. Turquoise, and peacock blue. Lilac and deep violet. Ruby red. Colors such as those complement me, M’sieu Reynaud. Necklines today are horizontal. I want mine as low as we dare, and no modest little kerchiefs for evening wear either. I want lace on
all
my petticoats and chemises, and I will not wear a corset of
any
kind. Is that understood?”
all
my petticoats and chemises, and I will not wear a corset of
any
kind. Is that understood?”
The tailor smiled, surprised, but appeared well pleased by her answer. “Mademoiselle is absolutely correct,” he agreed.
“Sacré bleu!”
Madame St. Omer exclaimed, amazed.
Madame St. Omer exclaimed, amazed.
“If the necklines are too low, she will gain a reputation without ever having done a thing but enter the room,” Madame de Belfort fretted.
“Mademoiselle will set fashions, not be shackled by them,” M’sieu Reynaud said approvingly. “She is perfect, and my gowns shall be perfect! We shall have our first fitting in two days’ time, madame,” he said to the Duchess of Glenkirk. “You agree?”
“I shall rely upon you, M’sieu Reynaud,” Jasmine replied with a smile. “We are completely in your hands.”
The tailor bowed. “I shall not fail you, madame,” he told her passionately. “My people will come later today to gather up the materials. They shall take them all, for who knows what we shall do, eh?”
The Duchess of Glenkirk nodded. “Of course,” she said. “I have already inventoried everything. Adali, escort m’sieu and his assistant out, and see that the fabrics are ready when they are called for later.”
“Yes, my princess,” Adali responded. Then he accompanied the tailor and Michel from the Great Hall of the chateau.
“Hah!” Madame St. Omer said, well pleased. “He is a difficult little man,
cousine,
but he likes Autumn and will therefore do even better than his best for her.” She turned to the young girl. “You clever minx,” she chuckled. “You did not blush and play the
jeune fille.
Had you done so, he would have simply made you ordinary gowns. Now he will kill himself to be certain you are the best-dressed young woman at the Christmas revels at Archambault! You will snare a fine, wealthy and titled husband, and Reynaud will be delighted to take all the credit for it,” she chortled. “He will be your friend for life!”
cousine,
but he likes Autumn and will therefore do even better than his best for her.” She turned to the young girl. “You clever minx,” she chuckled. “You did not blush and play the
jeune fille.
Had you done so, he would have simply made you ordinary gowns. Now he will kill himself to be certain you are the best-dressed young woman at the Christmas revels at Archambault! You will snare a fine, wealthy and titled husband, and Reynaud will be delighted to take all the credit for it,” she chortled. “He will be your friend for life!”
“If I don’t like what he does, I shall tell him,” Autumn said. “Like my sisters, I am particular about my clothing.”
“Temper any criticism with lavish praise,” Madame St. Omer suggested. “That way you will not insult him, and believe me,
ma petite,
your wardrobe is of paramount importance. We French are enamoured of fashion, and this fussy little man is an
artiste
with fabrics.”
ma petite,
your wardrobe is of paramount importance. We French are enamoured of fashion, and this fussy little man is an
artiste
with fabrics.”
Two days later, Belle Fleurs was alive with the tailor and his staff, come for Autumn’s first fitting. Lily helped her mistress into ten silk petticoats and the first skirt was then draped over them.
“It is not right,” the tailor said pettishly. He pulled upon his chin thoughtfully.
“Pourquoi? Pourquoi?”
“Pourquoi? Pourquoi?”
“Lily, take the skirt off and give me one of those,” Autumn said, pointing to one of the lawn petticoats. “Good, now put it over the top of the silk ones and let us refit the skirt.” She looked to Reynaud. “What do you think?” she asked him.
He nodded approvingly. “Much better, mademoiselle. You have the fashion sense. One less silk petticoat, I think, and it is perfect.”
Lily reached beneath her mistress’s skirts and unfastened the tabs on a silk garment, drawing it down so Autumn might step out of it.
“It is perfect!” the tailor said, clapping his hands together. He turned to the duchess and Madame St. Omer. “Mesdames?”
“Excellent, M’sieu Reynaud,” came the expected approval, as Autumn winked at her mother over the tailor’s periwig.
Five other skirts were fitted that morning, and then came the bodices, which were more difficult. Autumn had insisted that both bodice and skirt be of the same color.
“In my grandmother’s day bodices were far more beautifully decorated with jewels, crystals, and gold threads,” she said. “How sad that my bodices must be so plain, with only ribbons and lace to embellish them.”
The tailor nodded in complete agreement. “It is the times, mademoiselle,” he said. “One does not dare to be lavish in the midst of civil war. At least we are not as dull as England is now.” Then he gave her a mischievous smile. “I have a few tricks, mademoiselle, that I have given to no one, but to you only will I impart them. Mademoiselle will be the most fashionable young lady at Archambault, I promise her.” He turned to the Duchess of Glenkirk. “I shall have twelve gowns, six for day wear, and six for evening, delivered to the chateau at Archambault by the time madame arrives. And each day afterwards, except Christmas day, of course, I shall deliver two more gowns. Your daughter will be well garbed, I assure you. When you have concluded your visit, leave everything, and my people shall deliver mademoiselle’s new wardrobe back here to Belle Fleurs.”
“You are both generous and efficient, M’sieu Reynaud,” Jasmine told him. “See Adali, and he will advance you any funds you may need.”
The tailor bowed respectfully to her. Then he and his staff gathered up their materials and the half-finished gowns, quickly departing. To be offered payment of any kind in advance was indeed a bonus, for the rich were just as likely not to pay, or keep a tradesman waiting months or even years for remuneration.
“You should not have offered to pay him anything until all was satisfactory,” Madame St. Omer scolded her cousin, the duchess.
Jasmine shook her head. “Now,” she replied wisely, “he will keep his promises in hopes of being compensated in full when the last gown is delivered. He will not disappoint me, and I will not disappoint him,
cousine.
I may have lived in the Highlands all these years, but human nature does not change, ’Toinette.”
cousine.
I may have lived in the Highlands all these years, but human nature does not change, ’Toinette.”
Antoinette St. Omer laughed. “You sound like Mama,” she replied. “If Reynaud keeps his word, we shall have to have a separate chamber for all of your daughter’s wardrobe.”
Autumn was almost sick with excitement as they rode to Archambault on December 21. “What if my gowns aren’t there? Damnation, Mama, I shouldn’t behave like some silly chit of a girl. What is the matter with me?”
“You’re excited, that’s all. Sixteen or nineteen, Autumn, this is your first foray into real society,” Jasmine responded.
They were warmly welcomed at the chateau by the comte and his widowed sisters.
“Tonight,” Philippe de Saville said, “we shall be just family.”
When they entered the Great Hall of the chateau that evening, however, there was a handsome young man who Jasmine did not recognize as any member of the comte’s immediate family.
“Oh! Oh! Here they are now,” Gaby de Belfort twittered nervously. “Autumn,
cherie,
do come and meet my late husband’s nephew. This is Pierre Etienne St. Mihiel, the Duc de Belfort.” She reached out and drew Autumn forward. “Etienne, this is Lady Autumn Rose Leslie, my
cousine
’s child. I have told you about the Duchess of Glenkirk.”
cherie,
do come and meet my late husband’s nephew. This is Pierre Etienne St. Mihiel, the Duc de Belfort.” She reached out and drew Autumn forward. “Etienne, this is Lady Autumn Rose Leslie, my
cousine
’s child. I have told you about the Duchess of Glenkirk.”
The duke bowed over Autumn’s outstretched hand, his cool lips just touching the skin. “Mademoiselle,” he said, and then he looked up at her. A lock of his blond hair fell over his forehead and his brown eyes scanned her with open interest.
“M’sieu le duc,” Autumn replied. He was really quite handsome, but she could sense that he knew it.
“And this is Autumn’s mama,” Gaby pattered on.
The Duc de Belfort greeted the Duchess of Glenkirk.
Jasmine nodded pleasantly at the young man. She wondered how much depth there was to him. “My
cousine
has mentioned you in passing, monsigneur,” she told him.
cousine
has mentioned you in passing, monsigneur,” she told him.
“I can but hope she spoke well of me, madame la duchesse,” he replied.
“How could she not?” Jasmine said, and then she turned away to speak with Madame St. Omer.
“I like your gown,” the duke said to Autumn. “It’s the exact color of the fine burgundy I make.” His eyes appeared to struggle to see beyond her neckline, which was low enough to tempt but not low enough to reveal.
“Merci,”
she replied. “Is your burgundy as good a wine as they make here at Archambault? I have drunk Archambault wine all my life. My father would have no other vintage at Glenkirk.”
she replied. “Is your burgundy as good a wine as they make here at Archambault? I have drunk Archambault wine all my life. My father would have no other vintage at Glenkirk.”
He smiled. “You will judge yourself one day soon, mademoiselle. In the spring I hope you and your mama will visit Chateau Reve. Do you ride? You must, of course. Perhaps we could ride tomorrow if the weather is pleasant,” the duke suggested to her.
“You are staying at Archambault, monsigneur?” Autumn asked him.
“Yes,” he replied.
A footman was at their side, offering them silver goblets of wine.
“He is handsome,” Jasmine said to her daughter later that night, as they sat before a fire in their apartment. “Gaby absolutely adores him. She says his chateau is simply gorgeous.”
“He says he will ask us to visit in the spring,” Autumn told her mother. “He is nice, but I suspect he knows he is.”
“My
cousine
asked him to come early so he might gain an advantage with you. I think she may have miscalculated,
ma bébé.”
cousine
asked him to come early so he might gain an advantage with you. I think she may have miscalculated,
ma bébé.”
“I don’t know what’s the matter with me, Mama?” Autumn said with a deep sigh. “When you met Papa, were you so disinterested? When did you know he was the one for you?”
“When I met your father, my stepsister, Sybilla, had decided she was going to be the next Countess of Glenkirk, for your father was not a duke then. But Jemmie didn’t want Sibby, and I was to marry Rowan Lindley. After I was widowed, and after Charlie was born, your father finally got around to trying to court me. He had always held a certain fascination for me. The spark was there; I just did not allow it to burst into flame. By the time I was your age, Autumn, I had had two husbands and two children.” She patted her daughter’s hand. “I know it seems the entire emphasis of our coming to France is on finding you a husband,
ma bébé,
but if no man takes your fancy, you must not marry just for the sake of marrying. You must be happy, Autumn, and if being unwed makes you happy, then so be it!”
ma bébé,
but if no man takes your fancy, you must not marry just for the sake of marrying. You must be happy, Autumn, and if being unwed makes you happy, then so be it!”
Other books
Ghost Light by Hautala, Rick
Lord Peter Views the Body by Dorothy L. Sayers
Angel in Scarlet by Jennifer Wilde
Smoke and Fire: Part 1 by Donna Grant
Brainstorm by Belle, Margaret
Listen to This by Alex Ross
A View from the Buggy by Jerry S. Eicher
The Long Fall by Lynn Kostoff
The au pairs skinny-dipping by Melissa De la Cruz
Love, Let Me Not Hunger by Paul Gallico
