“Of course I am. But it’s open-ended at the moment.”
They fell silent. They were standing in the middle of the apartment, facing each other, each caught up in thought. Cady reached out and placed her hand on his chest. He looked down at it, a carefully neutral expression on his face.
“Oh yes,” Cady said in a quiet voice as she let her hand drop. “I remember you told me you weren’t good enough for your ex-fiancée. I’m pretty sure my ex felt I wasn’t good enough for him, too. But the truth was, I was way too good for him. Of course, I didn’t know that at the time. That’s part of the knowledge that came with growing up.”
“Are you suggesting I haven’t grown up?”
She laughed. “Not at all. You look grown-up, and you have averygrown-up-sounding job at the ‘firm’ in Paris.”
“Where I’m not working at the moment, as I play around in Saint-Véran.”
“Is that how you see yourself?”
He gave a wry chuckle and shook his head.
“To tell you the truth,” he said, “I don’t knowwhatI’m doing. I seem to be at something of a crossroads in my life. The only thing that makes sense to me lately... is you.”
They gazed at each other for a long moment.
“Whatyouneed,” Cady said finally, “is to spend a little time fixing up an old carousel.”
CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO
1900
CHÂTEAU CLEMENT
Maëlle
“You do not think me wicked?”
Josephine takes a moment to respond, as though choosing her words carefully. “To be perfectly honest, I might have, a few years ago. But now... it is easy to see that women are afforded a different lot in life than men. We all have passions, do we not? Why is it that the men are allowed to express theirs, whereas we are expected always to be such paragons?”
Maëlle shakes her head and keens into her handkerchief. “I th-thought helovedme.”
“Of course you did,” says Josephine, rubbing Maëlle’s back.
“I’ve never before...” She hiccups. “I mean, I’ve hardly even kissed a boy before.”
“Not even the two men who offered you marriage?”
“Not even them—just quick pecks. Nothing like with Léon...” She can still feel the sensation of his mouth on hers. “He talked of taking me to Paris, of showing me the world. He said we would sculpt together, traveling from château to château to work under the patronage of wealthy art lovers. But now... what do I do, Josephine?”
Josephine gives her a sad smile. “Could you go back to your family, in Bretagne?”
“How could I? I ran off to the city, and now I come back unmarried, with a baby? My mother’s not alive; we would simply be a burden on my father.”
“If he loves you, he won’t see it as a burden.”
“My brother is sick as well; I have been sending half my wages home.”
Josephine makes atsking sound. “And your wages are a scandal. For a talented, intelligent woman like you?” She frowns and shakes her head.
“And... how could I work? The world is not kind to an unwed mother—or to the child that comes of such.”
They sit in silence for a long moment, each lost in her own thoughts, gazing into the fire that pops and hisses in the hearth.
“Let’s look at this another way,” Josephine says after a moment. “What would you have done if you hadn’t found yourself in the position you’re in now?”
