she said quietly. “Loving someone because they’re nice.” Even as she spoke the words, she wondered if she’d know love when she found it. Chills up and down the spine, goosebumps on the skin, an erratic heartbeat. What did those things mean? A heightened sexual awareness, due to living a celibate life. That was all. Love was something else entirely.
“So tell me, you two, are you both happy? Are you sure you’ve made the right choices?”
Their spontaneous bursts of joy told Lise all she needed to know. They were both deliriously happy. After breathless assurances Ariane went back to the subject of Charles.
It was clear Ariane hadn’t given up and that her goal was to see her sister as happily married as she was. “In Rhineland I heard there was hell to pay when Charles learned your belongings hadn’t been sent,” she said. “I tell you, one phone call from him and the servants dropped everything to make sure your trunks got packed and returned to you.”
“I see,” Lise said thoughtfully. “Then I have Charles to thank. Because if he hadn’t come through, you wouldn’t see me in this dress today. I’d be wearing an old bedsheet.”
“You’d look good in a bedsheet,” Marie-Claire declared with a grin. “Especially one with lace around the hem.”
“Thank you, dear sister. It won’t be long before bedsheets are the only thing that will fit me. But I haven’t been reduced to that yet. I can still squeeze into some of my trousseau dresses. Believe me, before my trunks came, I had nothing suitable for a queen’s birthday party.” She stood up. “Which reminds me, I’d better go wish her majesty a happy birthday.”
“We’ve already done our duty,” Ariane said. “We’ll see you later.”
Lise took a deep breath and set out down a stone walkway in her strapped sandals, her sheer voile dress brushing against her bare legs. Her sisters only wanted what was best for her and her baby. But she was tired of hearing how different Charles was from his brother. That didn’t automatically make him good husband material. If and when she ever married again, it would be for love.
Before she got to the queen, she was stopped by various old friends and acquaintances, all of them too polite to mention the scandal that had brought her back to St. Michel. She was thankful that not one mention was made of her former husband or her illegitimacy. She did receive condolences on the death of her father, for which she was grateful.
She was just congratulating herself on her poise in the face of this situation she’d been dreading, when she spotted Charles standing at the side of a fountain where white marble cherubs spouted water into a circular pond. He was wearing a dark suit and gazing at her thoughtfully across the grass. She hesitated. She didn’t want to be rude, but what was her response supposed to be? What was the protocol in greeting a man whose offer of marriage you’d recently turned down? She managed a small smile and he must have taken that as an encouraging sign, because he quickly joined her.
“I was wondering if you’d come today,” he said, his dark eyes traveling up and down her pale blue dress.
She felt slightly dizzy in his presence. His intense gaze unnerved her. When he glanced at the rounded neckline of her dress, she was conscious of her breasts swelling, of the fabric tightly stretched across the bodice and of her nipples budding. She felt the color rise to her cheeks. If only she’d kept walking. Talking to the queen would be a piece of cake compared to dealing with Charles. Yes, he was clearly the handsomest man here today. And the memory of his words hung in the air between them.
Take all the time you need…I’m not going anywhere.
“It’s a bit of a command performance,” she said, proud of her composure in the face of the man who looked so much like her ex-husband. “Being my grandmother’s birthday. But I didn’t know you…”
“She was kind enough to invite me.”
“I see,” she said. “I was just on my way to wish her a happy birthday.”
“I was hoping to have a few words with you.”
“Well, now you have,” Lise said. But she should have known she wasn’t going to get off so easily.
Charles smiled briefly at her attempt to dismiss him. “When you have a moment, won’t you join me for something to eat and drink?”
“Well, I…” she said. She knew she needed some sustenance soon if she was to continue to engage in social discourse with him or anyone. If not for herself, for her baby. She needed to eat frequently and to stay hydrated.
“You look a little pale,” he said. “I won’t keep you and I won’t distress you by bringing up anything unpleasant. I’ll be waiting at the table under the big oak.”
“Very well,” Lise said. How could she refuse? There was a look in his eyes that told her he was sincere. Her sister’s words came back to remind her.
He’s nothing like his brother.
She turned to leave then turned back. “I almost forgot to thank you for fixing my roof,” she said.
“I merely made a phone call,” he said.
“You made another to get me my trunks.”
He shrugged. “It was no trouble. If there’s anything else, please let me know. It must be difficult being a woman alone.”
“I’m not alone,” she said stiffly. “I’m surrounded by family. Not only my sisters, but my grandmother, my stepmother, stepsister…” She could have gone on and on, but the truth was that aside from her sisters, who now had their own lives, and her dear nanny, she was alone. Her grandmother cared, she knew, but Queen Simone’s priority right now was locating the missing heir.
Charles frowned at her response. “I didn’t mean to imply you were in any way helpless. Of course you have family and friends. I just meant…”
“I know what you meant,” she said, suddenly contrite. “I’m sorry I took it the wrong way. I don’t know what’s wrong with me these days. I get upset at the slightest thing. One minute I’m in tears, the next minute I’m laughing. My doctor says it’s hormones.” The concerned look on Charles’s face told her it was time to stop this conversation. She’d gone on way too long about herself and her condition. No man wanted to hear about a pregnant woman’s emotions or hormonal problems.
What was she thinking? She finally managed to murmur something about the queen and her duty and left him standing there. As she walked across the lawn she felt his gaze on her. He was probably wondering what on earth had gotten into her. Probably happy she’d turned him down. Who wants to marry an emotional basket case?
She kissed the queen on both cheeks, wished her a happy birthday and said something about how young she looked. At seventy-five, her face was unlined, and her eyes were still bright and alive with the spirit of someone half her age.
Lise retained her composure under the queen’s piercing gaze, answered her polite questions about her family, her work and her situation as best she could.
“How unfortunate it is that you’re divorced,” the queen said, tiny lines etched between her eyebrows. “Your father, if he were still alive, would be very displeased. He arranged this marriage for you with your future in mind. And now…”
Lise
