Raoul walked Abby down the aisle to the front of the chapel, which was filled with flowers. One huge wreath of white roses and lilies with the Decorvet domaine banner dominated.
The Laroche family were seated near the draped coffin. Raoul approached André’s widow. “Madame Laroche, may I introduce Mademoiselle Grant, visiting from the US? On behalf of the family, I want to tell you how much we’ll miss André. He’s irreplaceable.”
When Abby shook her hand, the other woman broke down. Raoul moved down the line taking Abby with him. He introduced her to each member of the Laroche family. Raoul kept her planted at his side.
Once he’d greeted all of them, he escorted Abby down a side aisle. A fourth of the way, they came to the row where his own family was seated. His graying father sat in the wheelchair on the outside and shot him a black glance of disapproval.
He stopped in front of him. “Papa? Maman? May I present Mademoiselle Grant from San José, California.”
His father made no sign of acknowledgment, but his mother said, “Mademoiselle.”
“It’s very nice to meet you,” Abby responded.
Next to Raoul’s mother sat Josette and her husband, who only nodded. His brother’s and sister’s judgmental expressions mirrored his parents’.
“Don’t forget the dinner tonight,” his father half growled at him before they moved on.
Raoul ignored the comment. He was glad he’d brought Abby with him. Now everyone had seen her with him at the same time and they couldn’t say a word. He drew her closer and kept walking to the rear where he found them space in the last pew.
Abby sat without moving throughout the service and prayers. Being close to the exit, they were able to leave as soon as the priest gave the final blessing and the pallbearers carried the coffin out to the hearse.
He walked her toward the car. “You can breathe now,” he said once they’d gotten inside and had driven away.
“You’re not going to the cemetery?”
“No. You and I have provided more than enough interest by being at the funeral. I’ll pay my own respects to André when I visit his grave site tomorrow. When I asked you if you’d like to come to France to see Byron’s poem, I know you weren’t expecting to attend a funeral too.”
“Please don’t apologize. This is part of who you are.”
Again, he reached for her hand. “Is that so?”
“Yes, and you were right about one thing. After we passed your family along the aisle, I found out what it’s like to be a fish in a goldfish bowl. What did your father say to you?”
“I have to attend a dinner tonight in Dijon...and I want you to go with me. Tomorrow we’ll worry about your flight plans. How do you feel about that?”
She hesitated for a moment. “Is this dinner very important?”
“Not particularly, except that I have to make a few remarks.”
“After what you’ve done for me, of course I’ll come.”
The blood pounded in his ears. She didn’t want to leave him. He knew it.
Raoul parked in front of her apartment, determined to grab at happiness for another twenty-four hours. “Do you have something formal to wear for evening?”
“I’m afraid this black dress is it. Why?”
“Since this is the Regional Wine Association Dinner, I thought you might like to visit some of the shops and find something different to wear.”
“You don’t think black will be appropriate?”
“That question isn’t worth answering. But you’ve already worn it to the funeral and would probably enjoy something different.”
“If I had any spending money, there’s nothing I’d love more than to buy a new outfit, but my budget won’t allow it. When I first flew over, I brought some dressier clothes for the colder weather, but two weeks ago I shipped a lot of them home and kept the black dress to see me through.”
“Naturally I intend to buy something that pleases you.”
“That’s very generous of you. Under the circumstances I’ll pick out something to suit the evening.”
Afraid he was dreaming, he turned to her. “Hurry inside and get what you need, then we’ll drive to Dijon. I’ll show you around and then stop to buy you an outfit you can wear right out of the store.”
“I’d better bring my black high heel sandals with me.”
Unable to hold back another second, he kissed her thoroughly before she left the car. But he was haunted by one question. Did he have the right to love her heart and soul when he hadn’t been the kind of husband Angélique had wanted and needed?
Throughout his marriage and after, he’d suffered remorse for not being able to love her. If it was a flaw in him, he hadn’t been able to overcome it, even though she’d been the mother of their precious baby.
Could he finally forget the past and embrace the glorious life he wanted with Abby? He could deal with his family’s censure, but there was one thing he couldn’t endure. That would be to let her get on a plane and fly away. He couldn’t let it happen.
* * *
Abby had never had so much fun in her life as they spent the rest of the afternoon meandering through the city filled with medieval and renaissance architecture. They would eat a meat pastry here, and a piece of fruit there. Raoul would tease her with a chocolate truffle, then kiss her while they walked on hand in hand.
At five they went to a shop called Clarisse. Abby was afraid to look at the prices. When she found the stunning cherry-red crew neck sheath, she loved it on sight. It had three-quarter sleeves and large colorful flowers on the lower half of the skirt and sleeves. After putting it on with her black heels, she emerged from the dressing room to show Raoul.
The way his black eyes played over her, Abby felt herself
