‘And leave my sister behind too?’
He shook his head. ‘No, but life is fleeting, and we have to seize happiness. She will come round. She loves you.’
‘You don’t understand.’
‘Perhaps not, but this isn’t doing you any good. I do understand that. Please, Florence, dry your eyes. Come and have a drink.’
‘I can’t. My skin is red and blotchy. I look a fright.’
He smiled, came back to take her face in his hands and kiss her on the tip of her nose. ‘You never look a fright.’
‘You go.’
‘Are you sure? I can get a message to Rosalie and stay with you instead.’
‘No. I’ll be all right. Go.’ She’d spoken more sharply than she’d intended and felt sorry when he stiffened at her tone. And then he was gone.
Night fell slowly, the darkness creeping around the room, but she didn’t switch on the lamps. Didn’t want to see her own face in the mirror. She hadn’t expected instant forgiveness, but she had hoped to be able to talk, find a way to be sisters again. But nothing could make it better. Jack was hers now and she was his. Would it help to break off their engagement? She doubted it. She remembered how kind Hélène and Élise had been after the rape. How they had protected her, cared for her, enfolded her in the safety of their love. Would it help any of them if she were forced to choose between her sister and the man she loved?
CHAPTER 54
Claudette’s will had been read, and now everyone was preparing to leave. She had left the house in France to Élise and her English cottage to Hélène, while Florence was to have her stocks and shares. Before they left for Devon, Rosalie drew Florence aside.
‘I don’t want to speak out of turn,’ Rosalie said, ‘but I was wondering if you and Jack already have plans for your wedding?’
‘Well … no, not really, other than thinking summer might be nice. There will still be rationing, of course, so I’m not quite sure how it will work.’
‘There’ll be a way.’
‘I made gallons of elderflower champagne in June, far more than I meant to and Jack teased me about it.’
‘Well, there you are. It’s a start.’
‘I suppose.’
Rosalie smiled warmly, her face flushing a little as shesaid, ‘It would give me enormous pleasure if you would allow me to be involved, pay for the wedding, the dress and so on.’
‘That’s very kind, but, well I’m just taken aback. I thought the whole thing might be a bit make-do-and-mend.’
‘We’re family. I haven’t had a family for such a long time,’ she said, and now Rosalie’s voice caught. ‘Your mother is no longer here to help you, but I am, and I know it’s not the same, but I would love to. I’m going to be in England until next August.’
Florence smiled. ‘In that case, thank you. Without my sisters here, I’ll be glad of any help I can get.’
Élise and Victoria were planning to take the train to Exeter with Florence and Jack to stay until after Christmas before returning to France. Rosalie was coming too. But Hélène, who had been invited, insisted on remaining in Stanton at Claudette’s house to see to her effects and arrange the sale of the house to take place once probate was complete. While each of them was choosing one small treasure from the cottage as a reminder of their mother, Florence touched Hélène on the back of her shoulder.
‘I could stay too,’ she said. ‘Let me help you with everything here.’
Hélène didn’t turn round and just muttered a blunt, ‘No, thank you.’
Florence tried another tack. ‘You’ll be alone for Christmas.’
Hélène shook her head. ‘You really think I give a fig?’
‘You used to love Christmas.’
Hélène didn’t reply, just carried on picking things up and putting them down. Florence hated seeing her sister in so much pain but knew there was nothing she could do. Hélène was the good sister, the helper, the healer. The one to turn to in a crisis. Who was going to help her?
The time Rosalie, Élise and Victoria spent in Devon was bittersweet. Sweet because Florence was enjoying being around her sister and aunt and loving getting to know her small niece, who was turning out to be quite a little terror. They sang songs together, went for walks when it wasn’t raining, and played games in front of the fire when it was. Vicky’s favourite was ‘Ring a Ring o’ Roses’ especially thea-tishoopart when they all had to fall down and roll around the floor. But when Vicky sang ‘Alouette, Gentille Alouette’both Élise and Florence had tears in their eyes.
