‘If the ice breaks we might get wet but we won’t drown. It’s more of a swamp than a lake. Come along. I’ll hold you.’
The children had all put on their skates and glided off with elegance and style. Antoine’s arm was strong about her waist and somehow Alexandra got to the ice.
‘Now, step on,’ he said firmly.
She stepped, slipped and fell over. He laughed.
‘Excuse me,’ he said. ‘I’m sorry to laugh but you are always so poised, so elegant, I can’t help being amused.’
‘In England it is not considered good form to mock the afflicted,’ said Alexandra, as haughty as it was possible to be while sitting on the ice with her limbs sliding underneath her.
He picked her up and set her on the ice again. ‘Hold on tight.’ He was certainly holding her tightly. She was clamped to his side. ‘Now move when I move.’
Henri, seeing her difficulties, swooped to her side and took her hand. ‘Come on! Papa and I have got you. One, two, one, two.’
Suddenly Alexandra found she was moving over the ice, if not with grace, at least without falling over. Henri, convinced she’d got it now, abandoned her, and for a moment, she thought she was going to fall again.
‘Just relax into it. I won’t let you go. You’re safe with me.’
Although Alexandra was concentrating very hard on relaxing, not something that was easy, she allowed herself a moment to imagine Antoine was using those words in a different context. Still, it was not to be. She must enjoy what she had and not pine for something she couldn’t have.
‘I think I’ve got it,’ she said. ‘Let me go but don’t move away.’
‘Very well. Bravo! You have got it!’
Alexandra stayed on her feet for a few minutes until Stéphie came racing towards her and couldn’t stop, making Alexandra fall over again.
Now she’d tasted the joy of skating, Alexandra became determined. No matter how many times she landed on the ice, she insisted on getting up again and striking off across the ice, only to fall over again.
Antoine helped her up again. ‘Chérie, you don’t have to do this. We can go inside and drink hot chocolate.’
‘No, no. I hate to give up on things. I’m going to get to that tree’ – she pointed to the edge of the lake – ‘and back, without falling over, and then hot chocolate would be lovely.’
It took her three more attempts before she finally made it. Antoine helped her up every time, getting her back on her feet and watching her tentative, staggering steps until, at last, she realised she was doing it properly. She was skating. She turned round when she got to the tree and headed back towards Antoine.
‘Come on, Lexi!’ he called. His arms were open and he was smiling, willing her to make it.
Nothing would have stopped her. She flew across the ice and into his arms. For a few wonderful moments he hugged her to him. ‘Well done, chérie, well done!’ He kissed the top of her head and mumbled something into her hair. Her heart knew it was something fond and loving but her mind told her it couldn’t be.
He released her. ‘Come on, let’s get you into the warm. I’ll make my special drink which will cure all your aches and pains. Sit down – let’s get your skates off.’
Alexandra hadn’t been aware of suffering any aches and pains until he mentioned them. Now, she sat on the frozen ground and let him deal with the laces and ease off her skates. Then he picked her up and carried her into the house, leaving skates, shoes and various discarded scarves and mittens lying on the ground.
‘I’ll get them later,’ he said.
She closed her eyes as he carried her, drinking in his smell, relishing his closeness. But her moment of bliss was short. He put her down when they reached the chateau.
‘Go and make yourself comfortable,’ said Antoine. ‘I’ll be with you in a minute.’
The children rushed past, Félicité to the office so she could telephone Jules (Alexandra was willing to bet), and Stéphie up to her room, taking Milou and the kittens with her. Henri, more relaxed than his sisters, ambled upstairs too, muttering something about playing some music.
Alexandra collapsed on to the most well-sprung sofa, the one that had been drawn up close to the fire. She pulled a rug over herself and tucked her feet under her. She should go to her room and put on her slippers, but she didn’t want to move. Just for a few moments she wanted to think about Antoine and how lovely it had been in his arms, having him close.
He brought her a steaming mug of chocolate. ‘Here you are. This will warm you up.’
She sipped. ‘Oh! It’s got something in it!’
‘Brandy. You drink it up and relax. I’m making lunch.’
