The French Wife

by Diney Costeloe

  ‘Hélène’s taken a blow to her self-esteem,’ she told him. ‘She needs to feel loved and admired, and the sooner she has another beau, the sooner she’ll forget Rupert Chalfont and look forward rather than back.’

  Emile did not need much encouragement. He knew that an alliance with the Barnier family would be another rung up the social ladder. He still had to work for his living, but that living was good. He was a professional man, much respected in his world, and before very long he would be able to retire from practice and live as a country gentleman should.

  ‘Have you spoken to Hélène yet?’ her father asked.

  ‘Certainly not, sir,’ replied Simon, shocked. ‘It would be most improper to approach her before receiving your permission to do so.’

  ‘What? Oh, yes, of course.’ Emile held out his hand. ‘Well, you have it, so you may approach her whenever you feel the time is right.’

  Simon left Belair that afternoon feeling very satisfied with the move he had made. He had not loved Clarice when she was snatched from under his nose by Lucas Barrineau and he did not love Hélène, either, but he desired her with every fibre of his being. He longed to possess her and make her entirely his own, thus banishing any lingering feeling for Rupert Chalfont.

  For the next few weeks he set about courting Hélène, paying her marked attention at any gathering and generally making himself agreeable. Hélène was aware of him as she had not been before, but she didn’t attach any significance to his behaviour. She had no idea that he had already approached her parents and that at any time now, Simon might propose marriage to her. Thus it was that when, three weeks later, he arrived unannounced at Belair and he found her sitting alone in the morning room, reading, she was surprised to see him. She was even more surprised when, having discovered her alone, he did not leave the room with an apology, but closed the door behind him and advanced towards her. She got to her feet, feeling somehow at a disadvantage as he approached.

  ‘Hélène,’ he said, smiling. ‘I trust I see you well on such a beautiful morning.’

  ‘Very well, thank you, monsieur,’ she replied. ‘Allow me to let my mother know that you have called.’

  ‘Perhaps, in a while, but it is you that I have come to see.’

  Surprised, and uncomfortable, she fell back on the requirements of hospitality, and with an anxious glance at the door, she said, ‘May I offer you some refreshment? Some coffee? A glass of wine?’ She moved towards the bell, about to summon Didier, but Simon put a hand on her arm to stay her.

  ‘I require nothing, thank you,’ he said. ‘Just a moment of your time. Indeed, I’m delighted to find you alone for a moment or two this morning, as I have something particular that I wanted to say to you.’

  ‘Really, monsieur,’ she began, taking a step backwards, ‘I can’t think what it can be.’

  ‘Can’t you? Well, I shan’t detain you long; I trust you can spare me just a little while.’

  ‘Of course, monsieur,’ Hélène replied uneasily. ‘We are old enough friends, I’m sure.’

  ‘Indeed we are,’ he agreed with a smile. She had given him the way to introduce his proposal. ‘Hélène, my dearest girl…’

  Hélène seemed to freeze. ‘I’m not your dearest girl,’ she murmured.

  ‘Perhaps not. Not yet. But I want you to be. I want to be more to you than an old friend. All marriages should be founded on friendship, don’t you think?’

  ‘Marriage!’ Hélène’s voice was almost a squeak. ‘Why are you talking of marriage, monsieur?’

  ‘Because that is what I have come to ask you,’ replied Simon. ‘You must know that I have admired you from afar for some time, and now I want to be closer. These last few weeks I have come to know you as I never knew you before. You are beautiful and gentle and kind, and I have fallen in love with you, my dearest girl. I want to marry you if you will have me.’

  As she stared at him in astonishment Simon dropped on one knee before her and, reaching for her hand, said, ‘My dearest Hélène, will you do me the honour of becoming my wife? I love you dearly and hope you will come to love me in return. Will you marry me, Hélène? Will you be my wife?’

  Hélène was stunned. With Rupert’s desertion she had already decided that she would never marry, and now here was Simon Barnier, whom she’d known most of her life, on his knee before her asking for her hand. She was at a loss for words.

  ‘Monsieur…’ she tried.

  ‘Simon,’ he corrected.

  ‘Simon, I don’t know what to say.’

  ‘You could say yes,’ he suggested hopefully, her hand still held in his.

  ‘It isn’t for me to say,’ she said, her brain racing as she tried to escape his proposal. ‘You must first apply to my father.’ She pulled her hand free and turned away.

  ‘Of course,’ replied Simon, getting to his feet. ‘But I already have. Your father gave me permission to address you some weeks ago.’

  Hélène stared at him. ‘You went to him without ascertaining my wishes on the matter?’

  Simon smiled at that. ‘Well,’ he said, ‘you can’t have it both ways, you know. You say I must apply to him first and when I say I have, you tell me that I should have asked you first.’

  ‘It’s all too sudden,’ Hélène told him firmly. ‘I have no thought of marriage at present, to you or anyone else.’

  ‘My dearest girl,’ he said, ‘the idea of our marriage is new to you and I understand that, but you must understand that it has been near to my heart for some time. I’m offering you my hand, my heart, my home, and dearest girl, when you have thought about how happy we could be together, I hope you will accept my proposal and become my bride.’

  Hélène moved across the room and pulled the bell. ‘I’m honoured by your proposal, Simon,’ she said, ‘but it is so unexpected that I cannot give you an answer.’

  ‘At least you haven’t refused,’ Simon said. ‘So I can live in hope. Perhaps I may call on you again very soon.’

  ‘Perhaps,’ she agreed, wishing he would go. She felt trapped with him there in the room and was relieved when Didier came in answer to the bell. The relief showed in her voice as she said, ‘Didier, Monsieur Barnier is just leaving; please will you show him out?’

  ‘Thank you for your time, mademoiselle,’ Simon said formally. ‘I look forward to seeing you again soon.’

  When he had gone and she had watched him ride away down the drive, Hélène sank back into her chair, exhausted. Why had Simon Barnier come to propose to her? Did he really want to marry her? He knew perfectly well that she was… had been… in love with Rupert and had thought she was going to marry him. She had seen the two men together on several occasions and knew that neither liked nor trusted the other. Simon had clearly decided that he had been right not to trust Rupert and was trying to take advantage of his disappearance. Rupert would have hated to know that his place might be taken by Simon Barnier. But that didn’t matter now. Rupert hadn’t any rights in her life any more. They all knew that Rupert wasn’t coming back.

  When she considered the past weeks, she realised that Simon had been demonstrating a decided partiality for her company. Until now she had accepted it without thought as she had struggled to appear in public, apparently unconcerned about her broken engagement. Now his attentions took on an entirely different meaning. He was serious, serious enough to have asked her father’s permission, and for Papa to have given it. She needed to talk to Papa.

  With a deep sigh, she heaved herself out of the chair and went in search of her father. When she discovered he was out of the house, she went and tapped on the door of her mother’s parlour.

  ‘Hélène,’ Rosalie exclaimed. ‘Come in, chérie.’ She patted the place on the sofa next to her. ‘Come and talk to me.’ She had seen Simon arrive and depart and had guessed the purpose of his visit. If she was surprised he had decided to propose so soon, she would not say so to Hélène. However, she did want to introduce the subject of his visit, so she said, ‘Was that Sim
on Barnier I saw riding down the drive?’

  ‘Yes, Maman,’ Hélène answered.

  ‘What did he want?’

  Hélène looked across at her mother and said, ‘I think you know, Maman. He has already spoken to Papa and I’m sure you know that he has.’

  ‘I see.’ Rosalie smiled at her. ‘So, don’t keep me in suspense. What did he say to you?’

  ‘He asked me to marry him.’

  ‘And what did you say?’

  ‘I said it was very sudden and I wasn’t thinking of marriage.’

  ‘A very good answer,’ said Rosalie. ‘It would not have been proper to accept him at once, and without reference to your papa.’

  ‘He says he already has Papa’s permission to speak to me,’ Hélène said. ‘But no one thought to ask me what I think about the idea. I have no intention of marrying anyone and now I have to tell him so. If Papa had asked me, he could have headed him off before he knelt down and asked me to be his wife.’

  ‘I’m sure his offer was unexpected,’ said her mother gently, ‘but I think you should not dismiss it out of hand, my dear. Take time to consider the advantages of such a match. You would have a loving husband and be mistress of your own establishment. Your position in society would be assured.’

  ‘But I don’t love him, Maman.’

  ‘My darling, that will surely come in time, and over the years you’ll grow together. You’ll start a family and your children will bring you joy.’

  ‘You loved Papa when you married him,’ Hélène said, then added with a perception her mother had not expected, ‘but you have grown apart.’

  For a moment Rosalie knew a pang as she remembered the bitterness in Mademoiselle Corbine’s eyes when Emile had terminated her employment. ‘I loved him dearly when we married,’ Rosalie replied, ‘and I still do, but as you grow older it becomes a different kind of love. You don’t have to be passionately in love to have a good and happy marriage. Indeed, it is sometimes better to have a union based on friendship.’

  ‘That’s what Simon said,’ Hélène admitted reluctantly.

  ‘It isn’t a bad basis for marriage,’ said Rosalie. She reached out and took Hélène’s hand and continued, ‘All I’m asking you to do is to take the time to consider Simon’s proposal. He’s an eligible young man with whom I think you could be happy. Give the idea some time and thought before you give him your answer.’

  Chapter 36

  The date of Hélène’s marriage with Simon Barnier was set for the beginning of February. Gradually, over the weeks that followed Simon’s initial proposal, she had been worn down in her refusal by both her parents and Simon himself.

  Her mother had been gentle in her persuasion. ‘I know you say you don’t love him, but you don’t dislike him either. I know he’s not Rupert, but no one is going to be, are they? You have to set aside any feelings you still have for him and look forward to the rest of your life. You’ll have your own establishment in the Gavrineau Garden House, your own staff. And, sometime in the future, you’ll move into Gavrineau itself as one of the most important hostesses in the area. Simon loves you and wants you as his wife, but if you turn him down you may lose him completely; a man won’t wait for ever for a capricious bride. Think before you throw all this away, chérie.’

  Her father was altogether more forthright. ‘If you’re still languishing for that Rupert Chalfont, it is time you faced facts. He is no gentleman but a dishonourable man who doesn’t stand by his given word. The sooner you get him out of your head the better it will be. Simon Barnier is first and foremost a man of honour and he expects everyone else to have the same standards.’

  ‘You thought that of Rupert once, Papa,’ Hélène said hesitantly.

  ‘Maybe I did, but I was entirely wrong, wasn’t I?’ Emile retorted. ‘He had us fooled. I should have suspected he was after your money all along. He admitted he knew that you came into your grandmother’s money on your marriage, but he assured us he would not touch a penny of what would be yours. And we believed him! We hardly knew the man and yet we believed him and allowed him to court you. We were wrong. We should never have allowed such a thing. As soon as he discovered he’d become his father’s heir, he no longer needed any money of yours and he was off back to England without a backward glance. I blame myself, Hélène, and I’m not going to make the same mistake twice.’

  ‘Simon might be after my money as well,’ Hélène pointed out.

  ‘Don’t be ridiculous, child,’ snapped her father. ‘We’ve known the family ever since they came to St Etienne. We all move in the same circles and have the same standards of behaviour. You will be marrying into your own kind, which is the best kind of marriage.’

  ‘But I don’t love him,’ Hélène said flatly.

  ‘My dear child’ – there was a pitying note in Emile’s voice – ‘what has that to say to anything? Simon Barnier is an excellent match and should you turn him down, I wash my hands of you.’

  Simon himself was far more subtle. ‘I’ll give you all the time you need,’ he promised. ‘After all, that gives me time to teach you to love me.’

  When Hélène told Annette that she had finally given in and agreed to marry Simon, she said, ‘But you will come with me to Gavrineau, won’t you? I couldn’t go without you.’

  There was only a fractional hesitation before Annette smiled at her and said, ‘Of course I will.’

  ‘You’ll still be able to see Pierre,’ Hélène said. ‘I promise you that.’

  ‘Pierre?’ Annette gave a wry smile. ‘I doubt if he’ll mind one way or the other.’

  ‘I think he will,’ asserted Hélène. ‘I’ve seen the way he looks at you.’

  Annette smiled again. ‘We’ll have to wait and see,’ she said. She was very worried about Hélène’s forthcoming marriage. She had never liked Simon Barnier, especially since he had tried to use her as a spy. She had seen the way Simon looked at Hélène and it was not the way Rupert had looked at her, nor, if she were honest, the way Pierre looked at her. She was loath to move from Belair to Gavrineau, but she was not about to let Hélène go there without her.

  ‘I have to go with her,’ she confided to Pierre when she had slipped out to the stables one evening to sit and talk, cosy in the lamplight. ‘I can’t leave her alone with that man. I simply don’t trust him, not after he paid me to spy.’

  ‘Of course you must go,’ Pierre agreed reluctantly. He didn’t want her to leave; he would miss her more than he’d thought possible. ‘You could stay with her to begin with, but if everything is all right when she’s settled in, you could come back and marry me!’

  Annette stared at him, stunned. ‘What did you say?’ she whispered, unbelieving.

  He grinned at her and said, ‘You heard.’

  ‘You want to marry me?’ She shook her head. ‘But you don’t know anything about me.’

  ‘I know all I need to know,’ Pierre assured her.

  ‘No, you don’t,’ Annette said softly, ‘and you can’t even think about marrying me until you do.’

  ‘Go on, then,’ said Pierre. ‘Tell me.’

  Annette drew a deep breath and got to her feet. Pacing the stable floor, she told him the truth about Father Thomas, the baby and her disgrace. When she had finished Pierre reached for her hand, making her pause in her pacing.

  ‘Do you think that makes any difference to how I feel about you?’ His eyes were fixed on hers and she looked away.

  ‘I don’t know,’ she murmured, ‘do I?’

  ‘Well, it doesn’t,’ stated Pierre. ‘Annette, I don’t care about your life before you came here. I love you and I want you to marry me. Will you?’

  ‘I can’t,’ whispered Annette. ‘I have to go with Hélène.’

  ‘I quite see that,’ responded Pierre, ‘but when the time comes that you’re happy to leave her, I shall be waiting for you.’ He got to his feet and gently drew her into his arms, and for a moment the feel of his body against the length of her own made her stiffe
n. Very gently he kissed the top of her head and said, ‘It’s all right, Annette, I’m not Father Thomas.’ After a moment he felt her relax again, and looking down into her face, he said, ‘I love you, Annette Dubois.’

  ‘My name’s not Annette Dubois,’ she said. ‘Just Annette. I have never had a surname.’

  ‘Well, it won’t be long before you have mine,’ said Pierre, and he shared with her her first truly loving kiss.

  *

  Once Hélène had finally given in and accepted Simon as her future husband, all seemed to be well. The only stand she had to make, with the firm backing of her mother, was that Annette would move with her as her personal maid. Simon had vetoed this to start with, but Rosalie had said, ‘She needs a maid of her own.’ At which Simon had said, ‘And of course she may have one, but it will be a new household and I think it better that we start with entirely new staff.’

  Rosalie appeared to relent. ‘I understand that,’ she said, ‘but marriage is a completely new way of life for a young girl and it would be comforting to have someone with whom she is at ease to look after her.’

  Simon had given in, but with bad grace, saying, ‘Well, if you really think it’s that important, then of course she may bring her maid with her. I only want what will make Hélène happy.’

  So, Rosalie was able to tell Annette that she would be moving to Gavrineau with Hélène. ‘I am sure you’ll want to move with her as her personal maid, Annette; she’ll feel less strange if she still has someone familiar living with her.’

  ‘I’m very happy to go with her, madame,’ Annette replied, and she truly meant it. She considered writing to Rupert and telling him what was happening, but when she consulted Pierre about the idea, he discouraged her.

  ‘There’s no point, my love,’ he said. ‘There’s nothing he can do. It’s too late. He’s married.’

  Even so, Annette continued to think about Rupert. She was angry with him and he deserved to know that it was he who had caused Hélène to accept Simon Barnier’s proposal.

  A few nights before the actual wedding, Simon cornered Annette in the corridor when he was visiting Hélène at Belair.