‘I became sicker and finally a woman took me in. Eloise Mercier was her name and she was a healer. She had a way with natural herbs and made a living in administering medicines to those who were ill in the area.’
‘And so you recovered with her help?’
‘I did. It was so good being away from deceit and subterfuge and for a while I stopped glancing over my shoulder and looked inside instead. To Loring. I didn’t have you, but I had him, and all I could hope was that he would be a child that might resemble his father so that I had a part of you left. But even then I knew that there would always be people who would want to harm me and I needed to keep Loring safe. So I wrapped him up in the warmest blankets I could find and took passage on a boat to England.’
‘And returned to your grandmother?’
‘Yes. I had no notion you would ever forgive me and I knew that you were probably a viscount to boot. It was a risk to return to Langley with Luxford so very close, but for Loring’s sake it was one that I was willing to take.’
‘I should have come looking for you. I nearly did many a time, but...’
‘I’d run from you once already?’
‘That and the fact that if I had tried to locate you, it might have made everything far more dangerous for you.’
‘Maybe it would have. When you cast out such a wide net it is never certain who might be caught within it.’
‘Then I thank God that you and Loring are safe now and home.’
‘Summer?’
‘Yes?’
‘I’d like our wedding to be here at Langley with only a handful of guests. Grandmère. Vivienne Shayborne and perhaps Aurelian de la Tomber? Do you think that is something you might want as well?’
‘I’ll get a special licence and send word to Lian tomorrow. If all goes to plan, we can be married within three days.’
Epilogue
One year later—London
The Barrymore Ball was the talk of the Season, with its colourful interiors, its unusual cuisine and its musicians who were the very cream of Europe’s talent.
No expense had been spared and the place was full of people. Rich people. Interesting people. Bohemian people. People who looked as though they were neither interesting nor rich, but were there to enjoy the present. A melting pot of people in a setting that was unmatched.
‘I did not imagine that the English could rival even the greatest of the Parisian soirées.’ Celeste almost had to shout these words. ‘But I think this one just might.’
‘You went to such occasions with your father?’
She shook her head. ‘I peeked a few times into the Tuileries Palace whose high windows on both sides of the building can be scaled easily if you know how. I thought the women were like princesses.’
‘You look like one tonight, the most beautiful princess of them all.’
She used her fan in the way she had observed other women here wielding theirs and hoped she had covered her blush. Marriage suited her, she loved the endless days and nights in her husband’s company at Luxford and the intimacy of their connection.
‘Look at me like that for much longer and I will have to take you home again, my darling, to enjoy in privacy what your eyes are promising.’
She was on the point of agreeing when their names were called, the ringing tones of the major-domo loud above the crowd.
‘Viscount and Viscountess Luxford.’
In all the months they had been married, she had never got over the thrill of hearing their names linked, though when the chatter died down and hundreds of faces turned their way she had a moment of disquiet.
If anyone recognised her...
But even she could barely see the old her in the new one any more. She was happy and in love, a wife and a mother, a granddaughter and the chatelaine to a house more stately than any she could ever have imagined. The furtive, careful Mademoiselle Brigitte Guerin had been replaced by a far more certain Lady Luxford, for with Summer at her side she knew she was loved.
* * *
