you?’
‘Yes,’ she told him quietly. ‘Oh, yes.’
And knew, with sadness, that she spoke only the truth. But that it was all, tragically, too late…
Trehel was an old grey stone house, massive among its surrounding grasslands and trees, with three storeys of shutteredwindows that seemed to be watching like half-closed eyes as they rode up. Allie could only hope the scrutiny was friendly.
Remy walked Roland round the side of the house to a large courtyard holding stables and outbuildings.
There was a big barn set well back from the yard, and Allie could hear the noise of sawing and hammering emanating from it.
‘Is that where you’re planning to live?’ she asked as Remy dismounted and lifted her down.
‘Yes,’ he said, then looked at her, his mouth twisting ruefully. ‘Ah, Solange must have told you. What else did she say?’
Allie shrugged. ‘That it hadn’t gone entirely to plan.’ Also, she happened to mention the view from the bedroom.
‘The building work has been more slow than I had hoped,’ he admitted. ‘However, it should be finished soon.’
‘May I see round it?’
‘Of course, but not now,’ he said, tossing Roland’s reins to the elderly man emerging from the stables. He added softly, ‘One day, ma belle, when we have more time.’ And the promise in his voice warmed her skin.
Then he took her hand, and led her into the house.
She found herself in a huge kitchen, with a long table at its centre. A tall white-haired man was busying himself at the range with a kettle as they came in, and the two dogs of indeterminate breed who were lying beside him looked up, thumped feathery tails on the rug, then relapsed into doing very little again.
The man turned, and Allie found herself being studied by shrewd blue eyes under bushy eyebrows.
He said, ‘So, Remy, who is this lovely girl you have brought to brighten our morning?’
‘I wish you to meet Alys, Grandpère. She is Celine Vaillac’s granddaughter. Ma mie, this is my grandfather, Georges de Brizat.’
‘But of course.’ The rather stern mouth softened into a warm smile. ‘I was foolish not to have known at once. You are very like her, mademoiselle .’
And you, she thought. One look at you, and I know exactly what Remy will be like as he grows old.
And she felt pain slash at her as she realised she would not be there to see him…
Oh, God, she thought, this is all so wrong. I shouldn’t even be here now. The whole situation’s getting out of hand.
But she recovered herself instantly, shook hands, murmuring a polite greeting, and sat at the table to be served with warm rolls, cherry jam, and large bowls of hot chocolate.
‘Where is Papa?’ Remy asked.
‘The Richaud baby. They telephoned at dawn after the first contraction, I think.’
‘Well, it is understandable,’ Remy said tolerantly. ‘After four girls, Richaud is desperate for a boy.’ He grinned. ‘It has become a matter of public concern, Alys. They have been laying odds in the Café des Sports.’
Her mouth was suddenly bone-dry. ‘Poor woman—to have so much expected of her,’ she managed, and gulped some of her chocolate.
Georges de Brizat came and sat at the head of the table, followed hopefully by the dogs. He gave Allie another thoughtful look. ‘You are staying with Madame Colville, mademoiselle ? She is well, I hope.’
‘Absolutely fine.’ She forced a smile.
‘Good.’ His nod was faintly abstracted. ‘Good. You will tell her I was asking about her? Also, give her my best wishes?’
‘Yes—yes, of course.’
‘We knew each other many years ago, during the bad years of the Occupation. She and her sister were brave girls. Brave and very beautiful.’ He paused. ‘They had happy lives—with their Englishmen?’
‘Yes,’ Allie returned, faintly surprised. ‘Very happy.’
He nodded again, then applied himself to his breakfast.
One of the dogs came and laid a chin on her leg, and she stroked his silky head and fondled
‘Yes,’ she told him quietly. ‘Oh, yes.’
And knew, with sadness, that she spoke only the truth. But that it was all, tragically, too late…
Trehel was an old grey stone house, massive among its surrounding grasslands and trees, with three storeys of shutteredwindows that seemed to be watching like half-closed eyes as they rode up. Allie could only hope the scrutiny was friendly.
Remy walked Roland round the side of the house to a large courtyard holding stables and outbuildings.
There was a big barn set well back from the yard, and Allie could hear the noise of sawing and hammering emanating from it.
‘Is that where you’re planning to live?’ she asked as Remy dismounted and lifted her down.
‘Yes,’ he said, then looked at her, his mouth twisting ruefully. ‘Ah, Solange must have told you. What else did she say?’
Allie shrugged. ‘That it hadn’t gone entirely to plan.’ Also, she happened to mention the view from the bedroom.
‘The building work has been more slow than I had hoped,’ he admitted. ‘However, it should be finished soon.’
‘May I see round it?’
‘Of course, but not now,’ he said, tossing Roland’s reins to the elderly man emerging from the stables. He added softly, ‘One day, ma belle, when we have more time.’ And the promise in his voice warmed her skin.
Then he took her hand, and led her into the house.
She found herself in a huge kitchen, with a long table at its centre. A tall white-haired man was busying himself at the range with a kettle as they came in, and the two dogs of indeterminate breed who were lying beside him looked up, thumped feathery tails on the rug, then relapsed into doing very little again.
The man turned, and Allie found herself being studied by shrewd blue eyes under bushy eyebrows.
He said, ‘So, Remy, who is this lovely girl you have brought to brighten our morning?’
‘I wish you to meet Alys, Grandpère. She is Celine Vaillac’s granddaughter. Ma mie, this is my grandfather, Georges de Brizat.’
‘But of course.’ The rather stern mouth softened into a warm smile. ‘I was foolish not to have known at once. You are very like her, mademoiselle .’
And you, she thought. One look at you, and I know exactly what Remy will be like as he grows old.
And she felt pain slash at her as she realised she would not be there to see him…
Oh, God, she thought, this is all so wrong. I shouldn’t even be here now. The whole situation’s getting out of hand.
But she recovered herself instantly, shook hands, murmuring a polite greeting, and sat at the table to be served with warm rolls, cherry jam, and large bowls of hot chocolate.
‘Where is Papa?’ Remy asked.
‘The Richaud baby. They telephoned at dawn after the first contraction, I think.’
‘Well, it is understandable,’ Remy said tolerantly. ‘After four girls, Richaud is desperate for a boy.’ He grinned. ‘It has become a matter of public concern, Alys. They have been laying odds in the Café des Sports.’
Her mouth was suddenly bone-dry. ‘Poor woman—to have so much expected of her,’ she managed, and gulped some of her chocolate.
Georges de Brizat came and sat at the head of the table, followed hopefully by the dogs. He gave Allie another thoughtful look. ‘You are staying with Madame Colville, mademoiselle ? She is well, I hope.’
‘Absolutely fine.’ She forced a smile.
‘Good.’ His nod was faintly abstracted. ‘Good. You will tell her I was asking about her? Also, give her my best wishes?’
‘Yes—yes, of course.’
‘We knew each other many years ago, during the bad years of the Occupation. She and her sister were brave girls. Brave and very beautiful.’ He paused. ‘They had happy lives—with their Englishmen?’
‘Yes,’ Allie returned, faintly surprised. ‘Very happy.’
He nodded again, then applied himself to his breakfast.
One of the dogs came and laid a chin on her leg, and she stroked his silky head and fondled
Similar Books
