And Be Thy Love (22 page)

His housekeeper, who departed for her own home in the evenings, had left them a cold meal all beautifully laid out in the dining alcove, and Caroline’s heart leapt when she saw the table arrangements. In future, and very soon now, this would be her own home, and she could hardly believe it.

Then she went and washed and refreshed herself in the bathroom, and when she rejoined Armand he was waiting for her in the big living-room. He put a glass into her hand, and then looked at her deliberately over the top of his own.

“To our future happiness, my darling, and to the lovely woman I waited for!”

Later—much later—he drew her out on to the balcony, and the moon was climbing into the sky above the feathery tops of the trees, that were rustling gently in the night wind. Caroline, looking breathlessly up at the silvery slice of moon, thought that last night it had looked very young and slim, whereas to-night it was already shedding a radiant light across the roof-tops of Paris.

Paris...! She could hear the hiss of tyres on the smooth, beautifully-kept road below her, and a low but constant murmur, that was the murmur of other Paris traffic, came up to them. Above them the stars shone like diamonds on a blue-black dinner-gown, the moon peered at its reflection in the river.

Armand’s arms held her close. He held her as if he could never let her go again.

“I love you,” he whispered. “Oh, cherie, I love you!”

She put back her head until the bright brown hair strayed across his jacket and covered his shoulder.

“Do you need me to tell you I love you?” she whispered.

“I shall always need you to tell me that,” he assured her. He looked at her almost humbly in the deepening dusk. “I don’t know why you should love me, my dear one, since I am ten complete years older than you are! But I promise you that I will make you happy! If you will only bear with me sometimes—just sometimes, when I am not all that you would desire!—then there will be no happier couple in Paris than you and I, my sweet!”

She looked up at him seriously.

“And sometimes—sometimes we will go and stay at the chateau?”

“I was going to talk to you about that.” He touched her cheek gently. “I have thought of turning it into some sort of a convalescent home for children, since it is a pity that it should serve no useful purpose; but for you and I there could always be the tower rooms—my mother’s suite! Would you like it if we kept those rooms for ourselves, darling?”

“Oh, Armand, I would love that!”

“And Monique shall look after them for us.... Marthe is growing too old, and I will have to retire her somewhere. But both she and Monique must come to our wedding.... At least, I don’t think we can wait for Marthe to be fit, but Monique must certainly be there.”

“It was Monique who told me how good, and kind, and wonderful you are,” she told him, her adoring eyes never leaving his face.

“Wonderful—me?” He sounded genuinely amazed. “My sweet one, that is somewhat of a departure from your original opinion of me!”

But she shook her head.

“No, even in the beginning I think I must have known —when Robert told me how generous you are!”

“Robert!” he exclaimed, softly. “That is another one we must invite to the wedding! We couldn’t possibly leave him out!” Caroline smiled.

“No, we couldn’t leave him out.”

“There will probably be occasions,” he warned her, “when I shall be jealous of Robert! I remember you told me that you loved him, but you could only loathe me?”

“Oh, don’t!” she begged.

“Very well.” He held her from him. “Where shall we go for our honeymoon?”

She blushed deliciously under cover of the darkness. “Do we need to have a honeymoon? You said that you were going to be busy this autumn.... Why don’t we just come back here?”

“Because you need a real change, and I have got to look after you, and get you tanned and fit-looking. You are looking much better than a few weeks ago, but your natural delicacy makes my heart turn over at times. We will go to the West Indies, or somewhere like that.... And we will go by sea. Then, after that, we will come back here!” He drew her close, very close. “I could never have tempted you with anything but my love, could I?” he asked. “You are like the nymph who would not be tempted by the passionate shepherd because she could not be certain that underneath the passion there was love!” And he quoted, in such excellent English that the words did not sound odd on his lips:

“If all the world and love were young,

And truth in every shepherd’s tongue,

These pretty pleasures might me move To live with thee, and be thy love.”

“And be thy love” he repeated, against her lips. “And, oh, you are my very, dear love!”