Now Serena’s cheeks heated as well, not from embarrassment but from happiness at her fiancé’s compliment.
Then he looked around. “Lady Elmstead would have been too young as well when she left France.”
“And she has always been on the fairer side of blonde,” said Edward, looking adoringly at his wife.
Malcolm looked at her grandparents. “Of course! The Fox,le Renard— and you are Monsieur Renault.”
“I am,” agreed Pépère, “but I amnotthe Fox.”
“Then—?” Malcolm broke off and stared at Adèle Renault.
After a gracious nod of her head, Serena’s grand-mère said, “In this case, monsieur, it isla Renarde.”
“My wife was just as red as her granddaughter,” said Henri. “Before she blossomed into this lovely, silver-headed queen. But she is still our famedRenarde.”
“I am truly honored to be told the family secret,” Malcolm said.
“Youarefamily now,” Serena’s mother declared.
“Almost,” her grand-père said. “If you don’t fulfill the marriage contract, we will hunt you down and slay you. If you ever give away the identity of my wife, I will slay you myself, and it won’t be pleasant.”
Malcolm coughed. “You mean there are pleasant ways to slay someone.”
Henri Renault said nothing until he sipped his wife’s ratafia and made a face at its sweetness.
“You would be surprised, Monsieur Branley,” he said. “You would be surprised.”
***
MALCOLM WAS, IN FACTsurprised by everything that evening, by eating quintessential French cuisine in the utterly British household and especially by being allowed to spend time alone with his fiancée, out on the back terrace, overlooking Lady Elmstead’s lovely rose gardens.
“Naturally, they trust you,” Serena said, leaning against the stone railing, her new pup at her side. “Or at least they trust you’re smart enough not to risk their wrath.”
“Especially not the Fox’s. Why didn’t you tell me I was running all over Paris and the Loire Valley with the Fox’s granddaughter?”
“You didn’t ask,” she teased.
“I can’t believe I’m here at last,” he told her.
“I wasn’t sure you would come,” she confessed.
Malcolm drew back, staring at her with consternation.
“I promised you I would.”
“I know, but I thought maybe you’d said that merely to get me onto the boat.”
“Yes, perhaps,” he agreed, “but only because I had no way of knowing I would make it back from France. When I did, I gave your grandmother the message to remind you of my love.”
Serena shook her head. “Mémère said only something about remembering a flower room.”
He grinned, feeling so light and happy, and entirely sure of his future. “I told her to remind you of what I’d said in our room at the Defleur’s house.”
“Oh!Not thesalle des fleurs.” Then she grinned. “I love you, too, but when we visit France again, why don’t you pretend to be the mute baker.”
Laughing hard, Malcolm drew her close. Although two generations of her family were indoors, mere yards away, he decided to take the risk.
Holding her face in his hands, breathing in the familiar floral scent of her skin, he slowly pressed his mouth to her.
