Angus must have been lucky, because a carriage soon drew up in front of the doors. The driver hopped down and opened the door to the carriage. Angus hopped out.
“That was fast,” Edna said.
“Where’s Emilie?” Angus asked, glancing around the courtyard.
“She’ll be right back. She had to tell Marie we were going.” Edna looked anxiously to the doors of the palace.
“I’m here,” Emilie called as she hurried towards them with what looked like a large purse in her hand.
“Tell the driver where we’ll be going, dear.” Edna said.
Emilie gave the driver instructions while Edna waited. Angus held the door open for both ladies and helped them inside. Emilie sat by the window on the far side of the carriage while Edna and Angus sat together opposite her.
“I told the driver to hurry as much as he possibly could. We will have to stay the night with my father. It takes hours to get there by carriage. It will be dark before we arrive.” Emilie dabbed at her nose with a handkerchief as she turned to look out the window trying to hide her emotional state from Edna and Angus.
Understanding her state, Edna decided to focus on something else in the hopes it would take Emilie’s mind off of her father and her impending marriage, at least for a moment or two. “I sometimes forget how long it takes to go places in this time.”
“Is it faster in the future?” Emilie seemed to perk up as she turned towards Edna. Her curiosity was evident every time Edna mentioned the future.
“Much faster,” Angus answered. “In the future it might only take us one hour to get there.”
“Oh how I wish we were in the future. I would like to be with my father this very moment.” Emilie went back to gazing out the window of the carriage, while Edna exchanged a worried look with Angus.
They passed through the beautiful French countryside along the way, though no one was particularly interested in the scenery. After a stop for food and a rest break, it was quite dark when they arrived at the house and were greeted by Comte Toussaint’s footman.
“Mademoiselle Toussaint, I am so happy you have arrived,” the man said.
“Is my father able to take visitors?” The worry in her voice was evident.
The man sent a sad look to Edna and Angus before speaking directly to Emilie. “His condition has worsened. The doctor is with him now, but there is nothing he can do. It happened so fast.”
Tears immediately formed in Emilie’s eyes. Edna couldn’t bear to see her in such pain and so she wrapped her arms around her, holding her close and whispering in her ear. “I’m so sorry, Emilie.”
Edna and Angus escorted her inside. The Toussaint home was large and from the outside, very impressive. Once inside, though, it was clear that it was in need of repair. The furniture, curtains and rugs were worn with age, the walls were a mess of peeling paint and paper. Something was definitely amiss.
Edna exchanged a questioning glance with Angus. “We’ll wait for ye here while ye speak with yer father.”
“Claude, please show our guests to the salon.” Emilie seemed to shudder as she took in a deep breath and headed up the stairs to see her father.
* * *
The curtains had been drawnand the room was dark. Emilie peered toward her father’s bed and was shocked at the sight that met her gaze. Even in the dimly lit room it was evident how ill he was. Guilt and anguish over her lack of communication with him set in. If only she’d listened to him and not argued, perhaps she would have spent more time with him. What difference would it have made to her if she’d merely accepted what he’d told her instead of arguing and storming off? All of her quarreling made not one bit of difference in the end. She had lost what little time was left with her father and was still being forced to marry Matteo, that was the truth of it. She moved closer to the bed, holding her breath and holding back her tears.
“Father?” Her voice shook with the fear overtaking her.
“Emilie? Is that you?” Florimond Toussaint’s voice was weak and seemed far away.
He turned his head toward her and as his eyes met hers, Emilie rushed to his side. The doctor was packing his bag and preparing to leave. “How is he, doctor?”
“He will not last much longer.” His words were spoken softly as though he feared she might break on hearing them. “It is good that you are here.”
“Emilie, sit with me.” Florimond’s hand beckoned her to come closer.
She sat on the edge of the bed, taking his hand into hers and realizing, perhaps for the first time, how much she loved those hands. They had held her as a baby, taken her hand as he walked with her when she was a small child and always treated her with love and kindness. His fingers were long and not as strong as they’d once been. How strange that in this moment it was the one thing she was focused on.
“Look at me,” Florimond requested, his tone quiet and filled with emotion. “Emilie, I love you more than you could possibly understand. When last we parted my heart was broken. I thought I might never see you again. You were so angry with me.”
“I love you, too, father. I’m sorry that I argued with you that day and even sorrier that I have stayed away for as long as I have,” she fought to hold back her tears.
